#diagnosable and preventable if doctors had just BELIEVED HER when she went to them with her symptoms)

[fingertipsmp3]

So one of my friends considers herself to be a skeptical and distrustful person but is going to see a medium tonight. Every day God picks new and interesting ways to test me

[beardedmrbean]

A doctor warned three years before the Nottingham attacks that Valdo Calocane's mental illness was so severe he could "end up killing someone", the BBC can reveal.

This was one of a series of missed opportunities over three years that could have prevented the killings, Calocane's mother and brother told BBC Panorama in their first interview.

The doctor's warning appeared in a 300-page summary of medical records the family received only after Calocane was sentenced for the killings, which they have shared with Panorama.

The chief executive of Nottinghamshire's NHS trust said he would do everything he could to stop such a tragedy happening again.

Calocane was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia in 2020 and was sectioned four times in less than two years.

In June 2023, he went on a rampage through the streets of Nottingham, killing students Barnaby Webber and Grace O’Malley-Kumar, both aged 19, with a knife as they returned from a night out, before stabbing to death Ian Coates, 65, near the school where he worked as a caretaker.

Calocane then stole his van and crashed into three other people, inflicting serious injuries.

The warning was given by one psychiatrist while the medical team reviewed Calocane on the ward and was set down in medical records held by Nottinghamshire NHS trust.

Elias and Celeste, Calocane's brother and mother, said the mental health system was "broken" and led to a "tragedy that could have been prevented".

The BBC has also learned:

In autumn 2020, Calocane admitted lying to doctors earlier that year about no longer hearing voices so that he could be discharged from hospital, but was not admitted again until nearly a year later

In 2022, the community mental health team discharged Calocane to his GP because he was not responding to them - on the same day an arrest warrant for him was issued over the assault of a police officer

Calocane's longest stay in hospital during his four admissions was seven weeks, despite being twice eligible for stays of up to six months

His family say they only discovered he had been diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia months after the attacks in 2023, and more than three years after he had first been diagnosed

The Calocane family wants a public inquiry, but is also calling for urgent reform of mental health services

First section: 'I hear voices'

Elias Calocane told the BBC he first became aware that something was wrong with his brother, who was studying mechanical engineering at the University of Nottingham, during one of their regular phone calls in May 2020.

The family said Valdo Calocane had previously shown no signs of mental illness as a teenager or young man.

"He was just crying on the other side of the phone for 40 minutes," Elias said. "Finally, he said to me, 'I hear voices'."

Calocane's first admission for mental health treatment came on 25 May after two incidents when he broke into neighbours' flats, believing his mother was being raped inside.

He was prescribed medication by doctors for a psychotic episode and released from custody by police. His mother, Celeste, asked the mental health team to keep him until she arrived from Wales, but her pleas were ignored.

His family said this was the first of the missed opportunities to prevent someone being hurt, because he was not admitted to hospital until after he had carried out another break-in.

An hour after his release, Calocane tried to get into another flat. The woman inside was so terrified she jumped from a first-floor window to escape and was severely injured.

He was arrested again and this time taken to Highbury Hospital in Nottingham under section 2 of the Mental Health Act, which meant he could be kept in hospital against his will for up to 28 days - known as a "section".

Second section: 'No insight or remorse'

Four weeks later, Calocane was still hearing voices and believed they were coming from another neighbour’s flat. Again, he tried to break in.

He was sectioned again, this time under section 3 of the Mental Health Act, which allows for a longer hospital stay of up to six months.

According to the medical records, at a July 2020 meeting with health and care professionals while Calocane was ill in hospital, a psychiatrist observed that "there seems to be no insight or remorse and the danger is that this will happen again and perhaps Valdo will end up killing someone".

Forensic psychiatrist Dr Richard Taylor - who has not treated Valdo Calocane but has treated people with serious mental illness and been an expert witness in more than 150 court cases - said that in his 30 years in the field, he cannot recall ever seeing such a remark written down in medical records before.

“If a psychiatrist is committing themselves to a serious risk of homicide, then I think that’s something I would expect to be taken very seriously,” he said.

But two weeks after this entry was made, Calocane was discharged from Highbury Hospital.

Upon discharge, a formal diagnosis of paranoid schizophrenia was sent to his GP.

His family, who were in regular contact with mental health services, say they were not informed of this diagnosis and instead believed he was still suffering from isolated episodes of psychosis rather than a long-term mental health condition.

Third section: 'Prove his power'

The medical records show that in the autumn of 2020, Calocane admitted to his community mental health team that he had lied to doctors at Highbury Hospital earlier in the year about no longer hearing voices because he was “tired” of being there.

He told them he could still hear the voices, that they “talk to each other about him”, and suggest he should “prove his power.”

But he still insisted he wasn’t mentally ill, believing the voices he heard were real people who were intelligence agents and police officers.

He was prescribed a higher dose of his medication. Although he had told the team that his mental health was improving by spring 2021, his mother contacted them to say she was worried that he was becoming “unwell” again.

In September 2021, Calocane was sectioned for a third time. Police arrived at his flat in Nottingham and he punched an officer three times.

After five days in seclusion and three weeks in psychiatric intensive care, Calocane was transferred under section 3 of the Mental Health Act to an NHS-funded bed in the privately run Priory Arnold Hospital just outside Nottingham.

Less than three weeks after he arrived, a psychiatrist at the Priory reviewed Calocane and decided he was well enough to be discharged into the care of his community mental health team.

The Priory Group said discharge decisions are made in "accordance with statutory criteria" and that Calocane’s treatment and discharge into the care of his community team were "appropriate".

Fourth section: 'They wash their hands'

By January 2022, when he was sectioned for a fourth time after he assaulted his housemate in their student flat, Calocane had told his mental health team he did not want his family to know about his treatment and they were not told he had been admitted to hospital.

While in hospital, his community mental health nurse told doctors he had repeatedly missed appointments and not taken his tablets.

She said she thought he should be given long lasting injectable medication which would be beneficial in the long term, but that did not happen.

By that summer, the medical records show he was again missing appointments and in September 2022, the mental health team discharged him back to his GP. He had no more contact with them.

“Basically, they wash their hands and say, 'OK, that's it’,” said Celeste.

Dr Taylor told Panorama more should be done to make contact with patients who are not engaging.

"A letter on the doormat is really not effective," he said. “I think where there's been aggression, where there's been revolving door, repeated admissions, then to walk away from somebody or leave it to the GP because they're not engaging - that's something I find problematic. And I see it quite a lot."

The same day the decision to discharge him was made, a judge issued a warrant for Calocane’s arrest after he failed to appear in court over the earlier assault on a police officer. But police did not carry out the warrant.

The Independent Office for Police Conduct (IOPC) is investigating complaints made against Nottinghamshire Police by the families of Calocane’s victims. It said it cannot comment while the investigation continues.

Over the next nine months, Elias and Celeste said Calocane continued to distance himself from his family.

They said he told them falsely that he was living and working in Coventry, which is where they believed he was on the day of the killings.

The attacks: 'It's already done'

The night before the attacks Calocane called his brother. Elias said the call was “a copy” of previous conversations where he talked about his “delusions.”

At around 5am on the morning of the attacks, Calocane called Elias again. He picked up on the discussion they’d had the previous evening and told his brother to take the family out of the country, believing they were not safe in the UK because of his delusional beliefs that he was being controlled by the government.

"I asked him eventually, ‘Are you going to do something stupid?’ And he says, ‘It's already done’. And then he hangs up."

Elias told Panorama he was convinced that meant his brother was going to hurt himself, "that this would end in suicide".

But at the time of the call Calocane had already stabbed and killed the two university students, Barnaby Webber and Grace O’Malley-Kumar.

After the phone call to Elias, Calocane then went on to kill Ian Coates. He stole his van and drove into three other people, causing them serious injuries.

Five psychiatrists reviewed Calocane and the medical evidence in the case. They all agreed his violent behaviour was caused by mental illness.

Calocane was originally charged with murder. The Crown Prosecution Service changed the charge to manslaughter on the grounds of diminished responsibility and he pleaded guilty. He was sentenced to an indefinite hospital order in January and told he would “very probably” be detained for the rest of his life.

That outcome caused deep anger and pain to the families of Barnaby Webber, Grace O’Malley-Kumar and Ian Coates.

In June 2023, Barnaby Webber, Grace O'Malley-Kumar and Ian Coates were stabbed to death by Valdo Calocane. Reporter Navtej Johal investigates his history of mental ill health and the care he received.

They believe Valdo Calocane, although mentally ill, knew what he was doing and should have been convicted of murder and sent to prison.

They were also angry about his sentencing and called for it to be referred to the Court of Appeal.

It found his sentence was correct and had not been unduly lenient.

Afterwards, Barnaby Webber’s mother, Emma, said in a statement: “We do not and never will agree that the vicious, calculated and planned attacks carried out were that of an individual who was at zero level of capability.

“We have never disputed that he is mentally unwell; however, he knew what he was doing, he knew that it was wrong; but he did it anyway. There should be an element of punishment for such a heinous act; alongside appropriate treatment.”

Brian Dow, deputy chief executive of the mental health charity Rethink Mental Illness, believes the state of mental healthcare in the UK has made tragic outcomes inevitable.

“Looking back, it was a question of when, not if. And unless we both invest and change the model of healthcare that we have, so we don't allow these crises to build up and build up, then there's the inevitable risk that this will happen again,” he said.

The victims’ families believe there should be a public inquiry. The Calocane family want one too and are calling for urgent reform to mental health services.

Elias said: “Yes, commission a public inquiry. Yes, we need some strong recommendations. But we can't just say, we'll just wait until it finishes how many years down the line and then do something about it then. Something needs to happen now.”

“There's a lot of Valdos out there at the moment and if we haven't got capacity to care for them I don't know what's going to happen. The system is not fit for purpose,” said Celeste.

A Care Quality Commission review of the care of Valdo Calocane by Nottinghamshire Healthcare NHS Foundation Trust (NHFT) is due to be published on Tuesday.

NHFT chief executive Ifti Majid said: “I have committed to do everything within my power to prevent such a tragedy reoccurring.

“We are working with our colleagues across Nottinghamshire Healthcare to continue to improve the safety and quality of our services for patients.”

Elias said he knew that nothing he could say to the victims' families “will ever be enough”.

“I can only say that I'm sorry, that we are sorry their lives have been so utterly destroyed.”

[horsefreek151]

My doctor ignored my Suffering for a year

I'm trying to be generous, but after reviewing my results of 3 blood tests over the past year... I think my doctor completely ignored my autoimmune disease. I have MCAS (Mast Cell Activation Syndrome), I was diagnosed in November, but we had our suspicions over a year ago.

In February 2023, I went to the ER unable to eat or drink and doubled over in pain with a 104 fever (40c), where the doctor nearly killed me by not prescribing antibiotics (We Had to Remind her that she only listened when my husband asked her to). I was back in the ER a week later for Intestinal bleeding. I lost 20lb in two weeks. This event is what I believe caused an MCAS flair. I had a kidney infection that gave me a 104 fever, and I was unable to eat or drink for about a week. I already had known immune system problems; I've suffered from asthma since I was 4, and was known for having a weak immune system. On every blood test, if I didn't have markers for Immune issues, I was just on the borderline. I read my test results and analyze them because after having been gaslit so often, I want to know what my charts say, and what my charts have been saying over the last year. There is an immune issue going on.

The tests are saying I'm having an MCAS Flair up. What I have been telling him for months. I'm not getting better on the medications he has me on (I am not bleeding [much], but that's not a solution to the pain and bloating). If he had actually read my conditions and looked past my initial symptoms in the last 6 months, I could have been treated properly... my suffering could have stopped or at least been pushed back. Thank the gods he's retiring. My bloating makes me walk differently and makes my back arch and my ligements in pain (I have EDS, so my connective tissue is terrible). It feels like a monster is tearing itself out of my abdomen. I look 6 months pregnant. It gives me body dysmorphia issues. I would love to be pregnant, but it's horrifying to look pregnant and know I'm not; I'm suffering for nothing. To see stretchmarks climb up to my ribs, the young red and angry, the old white and shiny. It's been getting worse since I was 19. My pain in my joints has gotten so bad I use a wheelchair half the time, and that is in no small part due to what the bloating does to my body and how I have to relieve the pain in the way I move. I will get my life back no matter what. I will fight till I'm dead to get the care that I need, I will probably have too. It just sets my soul aflame with rage, looking at my charts and tests and knowing my suffering could be prevented. Knowing that he just didn't spend the time to understand what I was going through, and dismissed me as wanting him to work magic. I just wanted to be treated. I will Fight for myself. I will get the care I need.

[briamichellewrites]

66

Dance Again was Bria’s comeback song. It took months of writing, producing, and editing before it was released. The song was about persevering through hard times and not giving up. It had been a very hard year with her learning how to walk again and her mental health problems. But she never gave up. During an appointment with a psychiatrist, they uncovered a repressed memory of a girl who bullied her when she was twelve years old.

The bully was the teachers’ golden child. Nicole was spoiled and she was used to getting whatever she wanted. Bria had the unfortunate experience of having her as a roommate. Whenever she didn’t get what she wanted, she had a tantrum. She sabotaged her schoolwork to make it appear as if she was cheating. Bria got into a lot of trouble for that.

She couldn’t prove anything, so she couldn’t stand up for herself. Nicole also spread rumors about her, isolating her from the other students. She was often found crying in the bathroom because she wanted the bullying to stop. Her parents were notified about her behavior. They flew to the school and had a meeting with the headmaster. She was a great student and had never been in trouble before. Even with her ADHD. She did her schoolwork and studied. They listened to their daughter explain everything.

They believed her. Her father sought out the headmaster and asked to speak to him in private. They went into his office. The allegations of bullying were investigated. Other students came forward to testify against Nicole. They were too afraid of retaliation to say anything. Bria had done nothing wrong. She was the victim. When confronted with the allegations, she had a tantrum. The headmaster realized that Bria had been telling the truth. Nicole was expelled.

She and her parents had to pack everything up. Once she was gone, the headmaster sought her out personally and apologized. How long did the bullying last? It was about a year. Her teachers changed her grades, giving her the credits they originally gave Nicole. The other students also apologized to her. They kept in contact over the summer through letters.

Because baby, I will learn to dance again…

During an interview, Bria was asked about how she was doing. She was doing a lot better. Could they ask what happened and why she was hospitalized? Yes. Everything she remembered was what she had been told. She was at home when she lost consciousness.

Somehow her friend got a call from her cat. He came over just to make sure she was okay. At the time, she was recently diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder. Her two dogs were at the door waiting for him. He asked them where she was and they brought him upstairs to where she was unconscious in her bathroom. After shaking her, he called 911.

“Your cat called him?”

“That is a mystery that will never be solved. I like to believe that she did. They put me into a medically induced coma to shut my brain off for a while and to prevent further brain damage.”

“How long were you in a coma for?”

“Two weeks. Initially, the doctor wasn’t sure if or when I would wake up. He thought that if I did wake up, I would have significant developmental difficulties and would need around-the-clock care for the rest of my life.”

After she woke up, she had to learn how to do everything again. Before she could communicate verbally, she used facial expressions. When talking about her mental health, she was asked what she was diagnosed with. She was officially diagnosed with ADHD, anxiety, depression, Borderline Personality Disorder, and PTSD. Céline and Renè were watching the interview with pride.

She was like she was before she was hospitalized. Did she have any lingering symptoms of her brain damage? She had problems with her memory. At first, it was about her not having the right words to use during a conversation. Now, it was more about remembering appointments or taking her medication. She took all of her medications at the same time every day to make it easier for her. How was her relationship with Brad?

They broke up six months after discovering they weren’t truly in love. It was more like a passing fancy. They were better as friends. Neither of them had any hard feelings towards each other. Bradford tried not to be too excited when he heard about the breakup.

There was a new vegan restaurant he wanted to try out, so he invited her to join him. She met him there. He had already grabbed a table for them. The hostess asked how many people were in her party. She pointed out her friend who was already seated. During their meal, they talked, laughed, and gossiped about the band. Like two old ladies. Since the band was back in the studio, she was more than welcome to join them. She would do that because she missed them.

After eating and paying, they drove to her place separately. While up in her room, he kissed her. She tasted as good as he imagined. They took off their shirts before he laid her on the bed. His heart was pounding because he dreamed of this moment since he first met her. He wanted to unwrap her.

Mike was attending his first therapy session. It was something he should have done a long time ago. Everything he said was confidential. He understood. What was he getting help with? Trust issues that started with his ex-girlfriend cheating on him and becoming pregnant. How did he find out? He and his housemate had just come home from work.

She was coming out of the bathroom and she asked to speak with him alone. They went into the bedroom and closed the door. She let him know that she was pregnant and she wasn’t sure he was the father. He then found out she had been sleeping with an old boyfriend. It destroyed him because he was going to marry her and have children with her. He loved her that much. How long were they together at that point? It was around five years.

Was the child his? No. He cut off contact with her because he was so hurt and angry. Those were more than understandable. They talked about his emotions and how he dealt with them. He had been pushing them down for years and he never truly worked through his pain. Now, he was so afraid of falling in love again. If his girlfriend was there, what would he say to her?

He would apologize for not being there enough for her. It was his fault for not making her more of a priority. He would then tell her how her cheating affected him. Would he ever forgive her? Maybe after he worked through everything.

When he got home, Chester was waiting for him again. They went inside and inside his living room. Chester kissed him. Something was pushing them together. They backed up against the wall. Mike groaned while he pulled everything down leaving him exposed. He licked and kissed him. Mike pulled his hair as he continued groaning in pleasure.

“Fuck, Mikey. God, you’re so big!”

He laughed because he wanted more. His lips felt amazing on his skin. When he finished, he sighed in relief. Chester went to the bathroom and washed his mouth out while he pulled everything back up. When he came back, he framed his face with his hands. His best friend. Love me, Mikey. He looked into his eyes before kissing him again.

He wanted to but he was so scared. Chester understood that. He went down to his neck and buried his face. Love me. His voice begged him. That was all he wanted. He saw the broken child inside of him. Best friends. They were best friends. How did this happen? How could he not notice him for eight years? Love me. He didn’t mean just for one night, but forever. Marry me. Have a family with me. Grow old with me. He wanted to be truly loved.

His mind pushed him away from what his heart wanted. It was him. His best friend. Chester got down on one knee with his hands in his. He promised to love him until death and he promised to be with him and only him forever. Mike bent down to him as he asked him to love him for the rest of his life. Yes. Chester kissed him happily. They both told each other I love you.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon

[your-dietician]

Girl, 14, Denied Autoimmune Medication Due to Arizona's Near-Total Abortion Ban

New Post has been published on https://medianwire.com/girl-14-denied-autoimmune-medication-due-to-arizonas-near-total-abortion-ban/

Girl, 14, Denied Autoimmune Medication Due to Arizona's Near-Total Abortion Ban

After the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade, a 14-year-old child with rheumatoid arthritis was initially denied medication essential to her quality of life because she was of “child-bearing age” and could become pregnant, her mother and doctor told TODAY. After confronting the pharmacist, the mom said the prescription was filled 24 hours later.

Kaitlin Preble, 34, has lost count of how many times her daughter, Emma Thompson, has been poked, prodded and hospitalized.

“When she was 3, she was diagnosed with systemic polyarticular juvenile idiopathic arthritis,” Preble, who lives in Arizona, told TODAY. “As a baby, she never crawled because she didn’t want to be on her knees — she went straight to walking. When she was 2, she started limping and telling me her foot hurt.”

Juvenile idiopathic arthritis is an autoimmune or autoinflammatory disease in which the body’s immune system attacks the joints and causes pain and inflammation, according to the Arthritis Foundation. A reported 10 to 20% of children with JIA have systemic juvenile idiopathic arthritis — “a rare but serious condition” in which the immune system attacks not just the joints but organs, including the liver, lungs and heart, per the foundation.

“Polyarticular” SJIA means that the body’s immune system attacks five or more joints in the body, according to Stanford Medicine. The disease can occur at any time in childhood, but most commonly starts at 2 years of age, and the cause is unknown, according to the Arthritis Foundation.

After 10 years of clinical trials, exams, lengthy hospitalizations and various experiments with dosages of the medication methotrexate — a drug prescribed to treat some cancers, arthritis and a number of autoimmune diseases, according to the National Library of Medicine — doctors finally developed a successful treatment plan and found an effective methotrexate dosage that allows Emma to walk, attend school in person, live relatively pain-free and “be the most normal,” Preble said.

On Sept. 25, when Preble attempted to fulfill her daughter’s methotrexate prescription, all of that was threatened.

‘I said she will suffer without this medication’

When Preble went online to see if all of her daughter’s medications had been filled at a local Walgreens, she received a notification that the methotrexate was denied.

“All it said was: ‘Please call doctor for more information,'” Preble explained. The mom called her daughter’s rheumatologist, Dr. Debra Power, and left a message with a nurse. Afraid for her daughter’s health and unable to sleep, the next day Preble drove to the pharmacy to get some answers and try make sure her daughter didn’t have to miss any doses of her much-needed medication.

“I asked them why the methotrexate was denied. The pharmacy techs, both looking at the computer, said they weren’t really sure,” Preble said. “Then the pharmacist, from the back, said she denied it yesterday.”

Preble told the technicians she believed she knew what was going on: After Roe v. Wade was overturned, Arizona enacted a total abortion ban in all cases except to save the life of the pregnant person, a law that dates back to 1864, according to the American Civil Liberties Union. Methotrexate can cause severe birth defects and is sometimes used off-label to end ectopic pregnancies and treat miscarriage, according to the National Birth Defects Prevention Study and the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists.

(An appeals court has since blocked the anti-abortion law. Abortions are now legal in Arizona up to 15 weeks gestation until at least Nov. 17, the earliest the case will be decided.)

The tech went back to talk to the pharmacist, and I heard the pharmacist say, ‘Well, she’s 14 years old.’

mom, kaitlin preble

“The tech went back to talk to the pharmacist, and I heard the pharmacist say, ‘Well, she’s 14 years old,'” Preble said, adding that because her daughter was considered “child-bearing age” the pharmacist had denied the medication. “The tech asked the pharmacist if she had looked at Emma’s history, and said, ‘If you look, you can see she’s been on this medication for years.”

After some back and forth, the tech returned, gave Preble what she said was an “I’m so sorry look,” and filled the prescription. Preble said she overheard the pharmacist change her mind after reviewing Emma’s patient history at the prompting of the pharmacy tech. Emma did not have to miss any doses of her medication.

TODAY reached out to Walgreens for comment. A spokesperson provided TODAY with a written statement reading, in part, that privacy laws prohibit them from discussing “individual patients.”

“Laws in several states may require a pharmacist to take additional steps prior to dispensing certain medications. These laws apply to all pharmacies, including Walgreens, and often put pharmacists in a difficult position,” the statement continued. “Our pharmacists will continue to comply with all applicable laws and regulations and work closely with prescribers as necessary, to fill lawful, clinically appropriate, prescriptions.”

‘I was shaking and in tears’

Preble was distraught during the discussion between the technician and the pharmacist.

“I was shaking and in tears,” she said. “I got really sick. I felt like I was having an anxiety attack. My daughter went from not being able to walk or play outside with other kids to where she is now. To think that it all could be taken away? That’s like trying to kidnap my child from me.”

My daughter went from not being able to walk or play outside with other kids to where she is now. To think that it all could be taken away? That’s like trying to kidnap my child from me.

kaitlin preble

Preble recounted all the suffering her daughter endured before she started taking methotrexate at the proper dosage. She said her joints and organs would flare up to the point that she couldn’t walk; she couldn’t swallow correctly and would throw up; she had severe acid reflex and hematomas on her intestines. Preble also said Emma’s bladder was impacted, so she would get severe UTIs and kidney infections; she had hypertension in her eyes; her lungs were impacted, and she had severe asthma.

Emma was forced to go to school at home, from third grade to just last year, according to Preble. At one point, the child almost died after she contracted the flu, her mom said.

“All of this has severely affected her mental health,” Preble said. “We’re doing therapy now, but there have been times throughout her young childhood life when she has said, ‘I don’t want to do this anymore mom.’ That is the scariest thing for me.”

‘The only word I can use to describe this situation is disgusting’

Even now, after her daughter was able to obtain the medication she needs, Preble can’t shake the trauma of what happened when it was first denied.

“It makes me feel crazy inside. It doesn’t make any sense to me, for anybody to be able to tell you what you can or can’t do with your body or that you can’t have a medication that’s going to save your quality of life,” the mom said. “Why would they even think that that’s OK, ever? I cannot wrap my mind around it. The only word I can use to describe this situation is disgusting.”

Power, Emma’s doctor, is just as disgusted, she told TODAY. When Roe v. Wade was overturned, Power warned her patients that they may encounter issues getting certain medications. Still, Power said she never imagined in her 20 years practicing rheumatology that a pediatric patient would be impacted, adding that she never received a notification from the pharmacy that Emma’s prescription had been denied. Asked whether Power was notified, Walgreens refused to discuss Emma’s case due to privacy laws restricting the release of medical information.

I’m angry and I’m frustrated that we can’t provide the standard of care that we are taught to give our patients.

debra power, rheumatologist

“I’m angry, and I’m frustrated that we can’t provide the standard of care that we are taught to give our patients,” Power told TODAY. “Do the people making laws, do they have medical backgrounds to understand what they’re forcing upon people? It’s very scary for my patient and her mother to think about anything changing because for the first time in a long time (Emma) is in a good position.”

Other patients like Emma have faced similar situations in which their methotrexate prescriptions have been denied. Earlier this year, an article published in the medical journal BMJ stated that patients “are reporting trouble accessing drugs for autoimmune diseases” after some states banned “abortion-inducing drugs.”

In June, the Arthritis Foundation issued a statement which read in part that “some anti-abortion laws hold the threat of legal action against health care providers who prescribe or provide these medications, making it more difficult for patients to receive them.”

My patient was denied necessary medication that allows her to go to school, grow as she should and develop mentally and physically over a fictitious fetus.

Debra power, rheumatologist

 The statement also noted that “much higher dosages of methotrexate are used for abortion than for arthritis,” adding that “a rheumatoid arthritis patient may get a maximum dose of 25 mg per week, whereas abortion requires three times that dose.”

“My patient was denied necessary medication that allows her to go to school, grow as she should and develop mentally and physically over a fictitious fetus,” Power said. “And what’s even more crazy: The amount of methotrexate she would need to hoard in order to use it for an abortion would be three months’ worth of the monthly prescription I write. She takes two pills once a week. If she took all eight pills at once, it would not cause the termination of a pregnancy — and she was still denied anyway.”

Preble knows that she may very well face issues filling her daughter’s medication again in the future. She said she’s prepared if that day ever comes.

“I was a young mom, so I know what it’s like to be that mom who is scared to stand up to people,” Preble added. “But you need to advocate for your kids, no matter what. You know your kid better than anybody else.”

Read full article here

[thememoriesofaqueen]

In Another Life - Part 8

Masterlist (x)      

A/N: Hello & welcome back. First of all, I want to thank you all for your continuous support and feedback. It means a lot to me ♥ Chapter 8 of 'In Another Life' is by far the longest chapter I've ever written with its 13k words and I can promise it's going to be a rollercoaster full of feelings. I also decided to update this chapter on Katherine's 548th birthday, so please enjoy and wish our queen a good birthday. Regarding the question about Nadia's whereabouts: She's not involved in this story yet. That's either because she wasn't introduced yet or because she had left after Katherine killed her boyfriend in 5x08 and told her to rot in hell. Still need to think about what option it's going to be. :) Little hints of Klaroline will be present in this chapter. I hope you enjoy it and please make sure to leave feedback ♥

 English is not my first language    

→ I do not own anything of the TVD - Universe and I’m not affiliated or                   associated with the writers etc. This is only a headcanon/fanfiction.

Pairing: Kalijah ( Katherine / Elijah )

TW: death, accident, hospitals

Word Count: 13.141

Please read also: AO3 and FFnet

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After the car stopped in the parking lot and the engine turned off, Elijah didn't immediately get out of the car. Instead, he took in a shaky breath and leaned his head back against the headrest. His eyes closed as he tried to compose. Not once had he thought that visiting a hospital would be as unnerving as it is now. And while he often donates generous sums of money to hospitals, he never really felt emotionally impacted by them. They were hospitals, people die there but people could also be healed. People are born in them, people get diagnosed with diseases in them, people are treated in them. Nothing that affects a vampire in the slightest, nothing that's even worth paying attention to. For some vampires, the blood bags stored in them were interesting but apart from that, vampires don't concern themselves with it. 

Perhaps his donations are made out of a guilty conscience to give humankind something back to lessen the evils of his family. Nonetheless, he has never dreaded to set a foot in a hospital as much as he dreads it right now, not knowing how his visit is going to turn out.

During his drive, he had tried to not think too much about the 'what if it's her'. Because he, perhaps foolishly, believed that his Katerina won't die because of a mere car crash (however, how many humans already did die because of them?). That would not be an end that befits a person like her. A person as attentive as she could not be run over by a car. But didn't the article said something about a car crash? Some accidents cannot be prevented, no matter how attentive that person is. But no! He didn't even want to consider the possibility of such a thing as the mere thought, the mere thought experiment made him sick beyond repair.

Elijah shuddered and his eyes snapped open as that dreadful imagine started to form in his mind again: Katerina's pale, petite body strained with blood that kept flushing out her gaping wounds, her bones smashed, her chocolate brown eyes wide open but empty and lifeless.

He gritted his teeth and tried to compose himself to not let his despair out on something. The horrible apprehension that his search could come to an abrupt end when he finds her dead body drove him mad and let him almost forget his confidence that it's not her the article was about. 

Nonetheless, he gulped hard, his gaze wandering down to his shaking hands which he clenched into fists in a weak attempt to get control over his body. Without success. His gaze began to become rigid as he continued to stare down at his hands, his subconscious letting him think that his hands started to be soaked with her blood, telling him that her death could have been prevented if he had just been a bit faster, a bit more forceful and energetic. If he hadn't left her, if he had made sure that Katerina was doing well after he had left.

Eventually, he found the strength to fight the inner demons, the blame he subconsciously gave himself, and he blinked, the imagined blood vanishing from his hands. Nonetheless, the guilt was still there.

"What happens if something goes wrong? You know that there are many people who'd do anything to gain power over you if they need something from you. What if someone thinks I'd made good leverage?" "Is that the reason why you refuse to officially accompany me to the meeting with the local witches?" "I'm not really keen on witches, Elijah. And a girl is going to look out after herself. I don't want to get involved with Original's drama because I certainly don't like being a weak spot." "Oh, I doubt that you're ever going to be a weak spot." "Unlike you, I can easily die. A witch doesn't even have to touch me to drive a stake through my heart." "You have nothing to fear from these witches, they are associates. Besides, I won't ever let anything happen to you or anyone harm you, Katerina. You have my word."

The memories echoed through his mind as he opened and closed his fists, still trying to prevent his hands from shaking. What a hypocrite he had been.

He went to New Orleans to prevent her from coming to harm at Niklaus' hands but at the same time, he was too mindless to properly think it through. Whatever led to Katerina's transitioning into a human, he should have been supposed to know it earlier. Not finding it out because of some unanswered calls and a conversation with his sister. He should have tried harder to keep a tap on her, no matter how much it would have broken his heart to know he cannot be with her at that time. He should have considered the other dangers, especially with the cure and Silas still being around whose intentions were unclear at the time being. Of course, he believed that Katerina could take care of herself and never get herself into a life-threatening situation because, in his eyes, Niklaus had always been the greatest threat, and with him going and being occupied in New Orleans, Elijah thought she would be safe. That she'd be safer without him. Furthermore, Elijah believed that Katerina is an extraordinary person who is very capable of fighting her own battles.

He shouldn't have assumed that everything is going to be turn out okay after he left. And that had been his mistake, his fault. The reason why blame kept weighing him down because she obviously had needed him, even called him, and he wasn't capable of helping her. Because the dagger in his heart, put there by his own brother, prevented him from protecting her and not coming sooner to her aid.

His promise, an empty shell of words if the worst comes true.

He wouldn't have caused her death directly, but her death would still be indirectly his fault if he should find out that it's indeed her that was stored in the hospital.

Elijah pressed his lips together into a thin line as he finally lifted his gaze and stared out of the windshield, directly at the hospital building. His hands closed into tight fists again and he took in a deep breath, telling himself that there's still hope. Still hope that it's not her and instead some stranger he doesn't know.

Yet he still couldn't get out of the damn car, his muscles still immobilized by the tight hold of fear that grabbed his heart.

As long as he didn't get out of the car and didn't enter the hospital, he could still hope that he'll find her alive. Oddly enough, he felt himself being reminded of the thought experiment of Schrödinger's cat that illustrates a paradox of quantum superposition. In the thought experiment, a hypothetical cat may be considered simultaneously both alive and dead. Katerina still could be both, both alive and dead, although Elijah clung to the hope it's going to be the latter.

But if he's not getting out of the car, he won't find out. He can end his own torture and can either enter a different kind of torture or can get salvation. If he's being honest to himself, he's being pathetic. A man like him shouldn't be paralyzed by fear, shouldn't be frightened by results which were also to some degree his fault.

His hands slowly unclenched and despite them still being a bit shaky, Elijah blindly grabbed his phone before his gaze finally averted from the building. The pad of his thumb hovered over the contact 'Kaitlyn Sawyer' and despite knowing it better, he called her again.

It took some time until it connected and started ringing before he was being led to the mailbox again.

“Hello. I’m currently not available and my time’s precious, so whoever this is, make it short.”

Hearing Katerina's lovely voice again, gave Elijah a stab into his heart. He didn’t leave a message this time and hung up when the beep sounded before he slowly put the phone back inside of his jacket. He would have never assumed that a simple spoken text on a mailbox could elicit such feelings in him. He recalled the tone of her voice again and again, and somehow, that gave him enough strength to get out of the car.

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Entering a hospital in a haste has always been something that Elijah had only seen from afar when Rebekah had watched some of those incredibly over-dramatic doctors- and hospital shows. He had tried his best to ignore his younger sister's comments and exclamations when something apparently tragic has happened and it had happened not only once that she was in need of a handkerchief because sometimes those shows seemed to touch her to an extent that was unbelievable. Elijah himself could never comprehend those emotions his sister managed to muster up.

And yet, as he hurried towards the entrance of the hospital in which the deadly-injured woman was kept, he felt a toxic cocktail of anguish flooding his veins despite having told -no, convinced- himself on the way from the car to the entrance that it's just a routine visit. Just to make sure it's not Katerina. Just to make sure he has covered all hints.

It didn't take him too long to orientate himself after he had entered the hospital and found himself in the reception area despite the countless humans partly hurrying, partly strolling around. No, Elijah was focused on his task and would do anything possible to get fast assurance so his eyes quickly found the information center and instantly approached it.

There were a few people of different ages waiting in front of the only two staffed service desks that both suggested a longer wait because one of the visitors seemed to have communication problems whereas the other apparently had a thousand questions the woman behind the service desk couldn't answer. Elijah, however, didn't have the time nor the nerve to wait in line in front of the information center and pushed to the front, his cold stare instantly quieting all complaints that were caused by his behavior. Once he was in front, Elijah compelled the woman with the unnecessary questions to leave.

"Excuse me sir, but it's not your turn yet. Please-"

"I'm in a hurry, you understand? I need to speak to Dr. Johnson. I'm expected."

His compulsion is fast and inconspicuous, not having the nerve of having an argument. Elijah was too distressed to muster up any patience or silly chitchat and it pleased him to see that the employee paged the Dr. instantly. Nonetheless, his fingertips drummed nervously on the surface of the counter while he's waiting for Dr. Johnson to arrive, all the while mentally renewing his belief that it's not her. That it's just a routine visit. Nothing more. There's nothing to fear. Katerina can't be here.

It can't be her. No, it can't be her.

"I'm curious, how do you muster up the drive to keep going on for so long?" "What do you mean, Elijah? Why I haven't given up yet?" "Sometimes the prospect of eternity can be scary, Katerina. "It may sound strange but to me, death is scarier. All I know is that I don't want to die ... and I don't want to find out what it feels like."

The memory of a conversation he had with Katerina shortly after they started dating came into his mind. He had always wondered what kept her going for so long. Only a few people possessed the strength to endure an endless life under such circumstances as Katerina's. Many go mad or lose themselves in things that numb their pain. Most don't make it so far. Katerina, however, had a clear idea, a goal she wanted to achieve, and that had fascinated him. Somehow she managed to not dwell too much in the past but instead was forward-looking -- quite on the contrary to him who, unfortunately, did dwell too much in the past. 

The fear of dying, the fear of death was something that was essential to who Katerina is. It kept her going, it kept her making her careful and very aware of her surroundings. And although it may be foolish, Elijah tried to find an anchor in that. It's absurd that she had lost her life in a car accident ... isn't it?

Thankfully, the voice of Dr. Johnson tore him out of his thoughts.

"Mr. Mikaelson was the name, wasn't it?"

"Exactly."

"Why do you believe you can identify the injured woman? Don't get me wrong, we would be glad if we can finally close the case but she's been here for some time and no one seems to miss her."

Elijah swallowed hard and tried to get those hideous fears out of his mind as the image of a dead Katerina flashed through his mind again.

"Unfortunately, a person is missing that shares the same traits. I hope it's not her," he sincerely hoped it's not her, "but I need to make sure."

"Has she been reported as missed, Mr. Mikaelson?"

"Of course", a lie because of course the police weren't involved with Katerina's disappearance. Yes, he could compel some officers to look for her but a sufficient search would only be successful if they make a profile and that's something he cannot risk. He can't have her data be spread around for anyone to find or see, risking that the wrong people become aware of her and her current situation (or status).

"Then I can assure you the chance is low that it's her. Otherwise, the police would have been able to identify her and notify you."

Elijah's lips curled up into a weak smile despite knowing that Dr. Johnson's well-intentioned words could not do a thing to calm his nerves and as the doors of the elevator closed, he knew that there's no running back anymore. That he has to face the truth no matter how painful it's going to be.

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His restlessness had increased since they've left the elevator and walked through the small labyrinth of corridors until eventually reaching the destination.

The premises in which the deceased people were kept until they were picked up by the undertaker were immersed in cold light, making it uninviting for any visitor.

Subconsciously, another memory came into his mind as his gaze flickered over the surroundings.

"You once mentioned you were born in the Old World but your parents settled over in the New World so you basically grew up in Mystic Falls. Have you ever visited your actual home village?" "No. I hold no memory of my birthplace. I was too young to remember. Perhaps I should have made an effort and see the place I was originally from. Have you ever been to Norway?" "No. I don't like cold places. Usually, I try to avoid all cold and windy areas. But I admit I would have visited to see what your home village looked like if it still existed."

Katerina wouldn't have liked it here. More so, she would have despised the idea that she was kept in such localities. She wouldn't have liked it to lie on an ice-cold stretcher, stored away in a cool cellar whose scent of disinfectant bites in the nose. Nevertheless, he was thankful for the circumstances because at least it would prevent the body from starting to rot. He tensed at the thought, his hands clutching into fists for a short moment in order to remain calm and focused.

"I’ve already prepared her body for your visit. Usually, we keep them stored in boxes so we can assure their safety. Sometimes it's a bit hectic down here," Dr. Johnsson explained which only elicited a slow nod from Elijah.

"Here. She's in that room. I'm not coming in so you can take all the time you need to get ready. I have to warn you, the sight of an accident victim isn't easy so please prepare yourself. I advise taking deep breaths before and during you pull back the sheet and look at her. I know it's going to be hard and I sincerely hope she's not the person you're missing." Dr. Johnson looked at him in an encouraging way before briefly touching his arm, "I'm right behind the door if you need me. Take your time."

All Elijah could do is nod. While he doesn't need to be told that the sight of the dead can be nasty (he had been the reason for many nasty deaths or at least had to clean the particular hideous messes his brothers had made), he appreciated Dr. Johnson's well-meant words because he is aware that the next steps won't be easy, no matter if it's her or not.

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The room was empty with the expectation of a simple metal treatment table on which a covered body laid. Elijah had to swallow hard as he slowly approached the table and then eventually came to a halt in front of it.

Elijah almost didn't dare to take a closer look, too afraid that it's Katerina he's going to find underneath the sheet. The fear only got worse when he noted that the person seemed to have the size of the missing brunette.

The Original couldn't remember when he had last dreaded the sight of someone deceased as much as he did now. It's like an inner barrier prevents him from going ahead, from finally allowing him to come to the knowledge of the truth.

As he slowly reached out, his hand trembled again and he took in a deep breath, praying to all gods he knows of to not let this person be his Katerina that was unlucky enough to have died under such fatal circumstances. He focused on his breath as he gently grabbed the sheet and slowly moved it away from the head of the woman.

A gasp left his lips when it revealed brown, matte curls. His heart dropped and his movement froze, a pained expression on his face.

No, no, no. Please! Please for the universe's sake don't let it be her!

He shook his head more than once, gasping as his gaze was rigidly fixed on the dull curls that lacked the rich brown tone Katerina has. A circumstance that may be due to the long stay here.

Elijah didn't want to continue moving down the sheet more to reveal the face, didn't want to have certainty. In fact, he was too afraid to go ahead -- it immobilized him.

So he stood there, frozen, not knowing what he should do.

What the revelation of her death would mean.

His world would fell apart. It would crush and crumble down. It would break him, beat him down.

Once again he's reminded how important she is to him. How much he needed her. If she's gone, what is left of him? Him, as a person, not him as the eternal redemption seeker of his brother?

He assumed, has recently discovered again and again, that he had just taken her existence for granted. That she is, to some kind, as immortal as he is. He had hoped, relied on, that someday is going to be the right time, the right place. That, if he stays patient, he'll eventually find his way back to her.

But staring at the pile of dark curls so similar to Katerina's -- whether they are hers or not -- made him realize even more that nothing can be taken for granted, that his hope, his anchor, might be gone and he wasn't even there for her.

He didn't know the last moments of this person laying in front of him. They said she was immediately dead. But what if she wasn't? Even when she spent only two minutes in agony, what torture must it have been as the life faded from this body? If this woman was afraid of what is going to come? If she wished to hear the voice, feel the touch of a loved one for the last time?

Elijah knew, although he hoped he'd never get into that situation, that he wouldn't have left Katerina's side if something had happened to her which couldn't be fixed in time. Although not overall worried, there had been a time during the search for the cure where she had been alone, potentially having to deal with Silas, a creature his brother Kol was afraid of.

He didn't believe in the nonsense his brother spread about an ancient plague should Silas be released but it had filled him with unease knowing that Katerina had to deal alone with that creature if he were to be real. She wanted to handle this on her own, insisting on it's her part of the deal she needed to fulfill. Nevertheless, he was very relieved when she called him later, telling him she had the cure and everything was alright. But if it hadn't been the case and she returned to him with a hex or something, causing her to suffer, he wouldn't have left her side.

A shake of his head followed as his mind snapped back to reality, his gaze still set on the dark curls spreading out on the treatment table.

He should man up and face reality and either find torture or salvation because it's not her.

He owed her that.

What right has he to delay the knowledge about her fate just to give him a few more minutes of 'what ifs'? To spare him the torture her death would cause him?

None, absolutely none.

And, although he wanted to think otherwise, there's no way to prepare for such a situation. No matter if he wanted a few more minutes or days, it would just hurt as much as it would hurt now.

He gritted his teeth, the muscles jumping in his tensed jaw as he reached out again, his hand trembling to grab the cover and slowly and respectfully pull it down after he had muttered another silent prayer.

His heart beat loud, it drummed in his ears all the while shudders after shudders ran down his spine.

He held his breath when the person's face finally came to light, his heart stopping when he finally could see her.

His legs gave way and he fell to his knees, a single tear managed to find its way over his cheek.

Not because of the shock, but because of relief.

Gasps left his parted lips as the realization settled in, as the relief flooded through his veins.

It's not her! It's not her! There's still a chance she's alive and well. There's still the chance he's going to see her again.

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After he had testified that he did not know the unknown deceased, he was allowed to leave Dr. Johnson's office and made his way through the hospital to go back to his car, his steps lighter than when he first stepped into the building.

The relief that it hadn't been Katerina was still present, spurred him. There's still a chance she's alive and well, as well as someone in her situation can be. There's still hope. He hadn't lost her forever, fate has still granted him a chance to reunite with her and gave him more time to find her although that wasn't an excuse to slow down his search. If anything, he became even more aware of how critical her new situation is. That, if only one other person made a mistake, her life could be ended.

Oddly enough, his thoughts and worries seemed to be confirmed when he needed to stop in his track in order to make room for a nurse that pushed a hospital bed through the hallway, occupied by someone who apparently had broken their leg. His brows furrowed as he watched her vanishing into a room shortly after.

Right after, his phone vibrated on the inside of his chest pocket but when he pulled the phone out and saw who it was, his gaze immediately darkened.

Apparently, good news was always linked with bad ones. Or, in this case, the incapability to accept someone's choice. Elijah didn't even have second thoughts when he pressed the ignore button. If he had to take a guess, the reason for this call is the same one as the previous ones he had ignored already.

It gave him a headache, really, and changed his plan of leaving the hospital immediately, just in case some spies were lurking around outside. With Niklaus, coincidences are hardly possible and the timing of the attempted call had been almost too perfect. He'd follow through with his threat of killing any possible minions he's going to send but after this day, Elijah didn't want to enact violence.

A seating area near the main entrance of the hospital caught his attention and he decided to sit down there and calm down from the anger that was flaring up again.

He closed his eyes and focused on his breath. It angered him that his brother still didn't get the message that he wanted to be left alone but his unbelievable incapability of accepting other's choices shouldn't ruin the day, especially not after what he had gone through when he feared he had lost his love forever.

Lost in thoughts, Elijah pulled out the wallet from inside of his jacket to pick out the picture of Katerina. He was still beyond relieved that the person found dead had not been his Katerina although the worry about her whereabouts and state persisted. Even more so, the relief that managed to suppress all his uneasiness and worries was only short-lived and the guilt and the dread slowly crawled back into this mind and he sighed because he hoped the good feeling he had would have lasted longer.

His gaze flickered over the passport-photograph-sized picture of Katerina that he had kept in his wallet the entire time. This way, he had ensured that a part of her will always be with him although their ways have parted and right now, it's one of the few things he still has of her.

He had never believed that it's going to be so uncertain if they ever going to see each other again. Of course, he had expected that it won't be easy, especially after he had realized that unfortunately, Katerina had interpreted another meaning behind his decision of going to New Orleans. However, he would have never assumed it's going to be uncertain if she's still alive the next time he reaches out for her.

Perhaps she's not in this hospital but who says she's not stored up somewhere else? He quivered at the thought and tried to remind himself that she's smart. That she'd hopefully had found a way, a safe one, to take care of herself.

Nonetheless, the longer he stayed in the hospital and when he had walked through it, Elijah was repeatedly reminded of how fragile human life is. How easily a human can get hurt. How easily they can get sick. He had seen a number of injured humans with bandages who were attached to hospital beds that passed him as he sat in the waiting room. He had smelled the mixture of blood and chemicals that were either pouring out of them or injected into them. He had overheard a conversation about a family father that had passed away. He had seen how overtired some humans, no matter if staff or visitors, had looked like.

Today he realized more than he had ever that humans can get sick, can get hurt. They can catch diseases some have to deal with for years, decades, or the entire life. They don't heal as quickly -- or at all -- if they get hurt. They suffer from pain and uncertainty because no one can help them or know what is happening to them. Some lose all appetite and get weaker and weaker, some cannot keep food in. Some are put into a coma no one knows if they wake up anymore again.

There are so many risks, so many things that could end a normal human life or make it unbearable. Some things can be treated, others can't.

His sister romanticizes humanity to no end but his short stay in the hospital made him realize that being human always meant vulnerability.

He had never been so aware of it, although he deals with humans and values humanity. He even did his best to keep a human side and habits.

But if he has to admit to himself, especially while for the first time really noticing and becoming aware of all the downsides of humanity, he has no idea what it's like to be human. In fact, he doesn't even remember what it's like to be a human being.

He has no idea what it means and he believes, that if he were to be suddenly human again, it would be a shock from which it would be difficult to recover. He wouldn’t know how to deal with such a sudden change. The possibility alone of catching a sinus infection seems to be from another world. Fortunately, he'll never be in that situation.

Katerina, however, is.

He can only imagine how hard it must have been for Katerina to be human again, knowing how much she loved her vampiric nature. How hard it still must be for her to adjust to the new circumstances.

Her health is something Elijah worried about as well. He assumed she doesn't have a functioning and strong immune system because it wasn't needed in the past five centuries. What if she's severely sick and is in treatment?

"Excuse me, sir, can we please have this seat?" a nurse called out and approached him with a limping woman on her arm. In an instant, Elijah raised to his feet and blindly put the picture of Katerina back into his jacket where his handkerchief was, too lost in thoughts to notice that it, in fact, slipped and glided to the ground.

Perhaps the disturbance was much needed anyway to make him become aware that he didn't have a reason to stay in that hospital any longer. He's been in here long enough to bore possible minions Niklaus had sent to spy on him. Katerina is not here, so why should he stay? Strangely enough, however, he had the feeling that he was much closer to the missing brunette in this place than anywhere else. This was probably due to the fact that this place visibly showed him what he feared the most: That his beloved Katerina is hurt, that she needed (medical) help.

And, although he had no part in her becoming human, seeing all the misery in this place, made him blame himself even more. Because if he hadn't left, she wouldn't be in this situation, she wouldn't be human. Of course, it's only an assumption. Perhaps it would have still happened as he didn't know what exactly led to the two doppelgänger's sparring. He doesn't know but at least he would have been present afterward, he could have taken care of her.

Any suffering or damage could have been prevented if he hadn't left.

"Sir? Sir?!"

At first, Elijah did not feel addressed but as the voice came closer, he finally turned around and looked at the nurse that had just brought in the limping woman. She held something tiny in her hands and waved with it.

"Sir, I believed you have lost something. Is it yours?" she questioned and showed him the pic of Katerina. His hand immediately moved up to the pocket in which he had believed to have placed the picture. It wasn't there. Not that he would have needed to check it because he doubted anyone was in the possession of a picture that looked like his picture. It just happened to be a somewhat natural movement.

"Yes, it is mine. Thank you for being so attentive. I wouldn't know what I'd have done without it." he reached out his hand so the nurse could give it back to him but she refused.

"Do you know this woman?", she asked and Elijah frowned, not knowing why she came up with such a personal question.

"Yes, I do. Can I please have the picture back?" he felt uncomfortable seeing that someone else had it. As if he couldn't protect her if someone else was in the possession of her picture. Not that a nurse could do any harm to Katerina if she’s in possession of a picture.

"I know her too...."

"I beg your pardon?", suddenly Elijah's impatience of getting the picture back turned into curiosity and interest. How did she know her? And, did she really know Katherine or does she just somehow know Elena Gilbert?

"Yeah, she was brought in several weeks ago -- perhaps it’s been even two or three months."

Elijah's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and he took a quick glance around before he pulled the nurse gently with him to a more quiet place. This was beyond important.

"Define 'brought in'"

"She came in an ambulance. I helped to bring her to Dr. Brown who checked up on her. She was unconscious so we gave her the name 'Elisa' until we found out more."

Elijah absorbed this new, unexpected information, not believing that he just found out about this coincidence. She may have been here. Was that the reason why he felt so strangely connected to this hospital?

"And where is she now?" he impatiently asked, needing to know what has happened to her.

"I don't know. Dr. Brown has his own staff, I'm not responsible for that area."

"Where can I find him?"

"3rd floor, Station C"

Elijah nodded and offered the nurse a smile. "Thank you. I'll make it worth your while," with that, and after taking back the picture, Elijah turned on his heels and quickly moved to the elevator to get to Dr. Brown.

He needed to find out what has happened and where she was. Perhaps, although he feared that would be too much luck, she was still here somewhere.

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It wasn't too hard to find the office of Dr. Brown. In contrary to his first entry into the hospital, Elijah didn't care to ask someone for arranging a meeting with the doctor. Instead, he went straight into the office and even had luck as the doctor was present. His protest was quickly silenced as he compelled the human to be quiet before he compelled him to comply and answer his questions.

"I was told this girl, patient Elisa was brought in this hospital several weeks ago." to underline his words and to make sure the doctor knew of whom he spoke, Elijah showed him the picture of Katerina, earning a nod from him.

"Yes, I remember her. She had been here but several weeks have indeed passed since that."

"Is she still here?"

"Unfortunately, no"

She's not here anymore. Elijah closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to sort his thoughts before he finally took a seat. He'd thought they could leave quickly to go to her but the reality was different. She could be anywhere by now. How comes he's always too late? Nonetheless -- and despite his worries -- his voice and tone remained calm and collected.

"What do you mean by 'unfortunately no'? I was told she was unconscious. What happened to her?"

"I cannot give away personal information to a stranger. Or are you in any kind of relationship with the patient?"

This astonished Elijah because apparently, Dr. Brown was really serious about and devoted to his job, otherwise, it wouldn't have been possible to work around the compulsion and hold information back. However, it also had to be said that perhaps the compulsion wasn't specific enough.

"I’m Elijah Mikaelson and she's my girlfriend. Unfortunately, she’s missing for quite some time by now." The lie left his lips without hesitation. Moreover, the word 'girlfriend' slipped his tongue quite naturally although he knew that they were no longer a couple, that he could no longer address her as his girlfriend or partner.

"I understand. Well, Mr. Mikaelson, under these circumstances I can give information. A moment please." He stood up and left the office only to return with a file two minutes later.

"Miss Forbes was brought in with severe hypothermia. She had collapsed on the streets and was nearly hit by a car. Fortunately, the driver was able to brake in time. She wasn’t responsive when she was brought in and in a state of unconsciousness. When I examined her I noticed that she was slightly malnutrition so we gave her some infusions to help her regain strength."

Elijah listened attentively to the doctor and frowned when he addressed Katerina as 'Miss Forbes'. How did they come up with that name? And what had happened that she'd collapsed and was brought in with severe hypothermia? His concern increased even more and he didn't know how he should put that information together because it confirmed his worst suspicions.

But why isn't she here anymore? If her state was so worse?

"Go on please, I need to know every detail," Elijah stated and leaned slightly forward to intensify the compulsion.

"After she regained consciousness, she had a panic attack and acted aggressively toward the staff. It took some time until we managed to calm her down and convince her that she's in no danger."

Elijah nodded because he can comprehend that it must have been terrifying for her to wake up in entirely new surroundings and somehow it relieved him to know that her natural survival instinct still seemed to be there if she acted so hostile towards the staff.

"She stated that her name was Katherine Forbes and that she wanted to call her sister to come to get her."

His confusion only grew because Katerina had no sister and certainly no remaining family.

"Has she called that sister?" Elijah asked because he needed to know who it was.

"Yes, she has. I also talked to her about the next steps because I wanted to keep her in for a few more days. Somehow, however, Miss Forbes found a way to leave the hospital unauthorized on the fourth night. She has no discharge papers so we cannot take responsibility if anything happens to Miss Forbes."

"And the sister wanted that?"

"No, Miss Katherine Forbes seemed to have acted on her own. Her sister agreed on having her stay a few more days until we're certain that everything's okay."

"What's the name of the sister?"

"Miss Caroline Forbes".

Caroline Forbes.

A blurry memory of a blonde girl found its way to the surface. Elijah didn't remember too much about her but he believed that she had been (or is still) friends with Elena Gilbert. And, if his memory doesn't play tricks on him, he recalled that his brother fancied her presence and companionship the night their mother threw that deceptive ball for their family.

He could not understand the connections. Neither Caroline's Forbes connection with Elena Gilbert nor her questionable connection with Niklaus made any sense in regard to Katerina as Katerina despised both Elena Gilbert and Niklaus. So how comes that Katerina would want to call her of all people?

Elijah tried to dig deeper into his memories about that Forbes girl but couldn't find anything relevant. Truth be told, he hasn't really paid attention to her. She had been an embellishment to his plans and main focus although he remembered that it had puzzled him that Niklaus was so eager on getting the blonde's attention. He could also recall that Niklaus had been keen on staying in Mystic Falls although there was nothing that could hold someone like him there.

Although Mystic Falls hasn't been Elijah's birthplace, it had been the location of his family home. All siblings after him were born there and yet none of them held a too pleasant memory of that time. Rebekah was probably the most sentimental about it but apart from her, none of them really thought much about their human days in Mystic Falls, Niklaus even less.

He didn't question Niklaus's reasons behind staying in Mystic Falls though and he certainly won't start now because it won't bring light into the darkness about Katerina's connection to the Forbes girl.

"I do recall Caroline Forbes. Do you have her number?"

"Yes, it is recorded in the file."

Elijah nodded and decided to call Caroline later on. Hopefully, she knew more about Katerina's whereabouts although he really can't comprehend why the two of them were even in contact. He, however, believed that whatever the reason was, they must have been in contact even longer if Katerina's first doing was addressing herself as Katherine Forbes which implied that she knew exactly what she's doing and that she could count on the other one.

The Original leaned forward, took the file in his hands, and opened it. A few medical terms caught his eye: Hypothermia, malnutrition, hypoglycemia, hypotension. Hematoma, probably because of the accident. A remark about older injuries, including the possibility of sprained ribs in the past, let Elijah frown but it has not been discussed in more detail.

"Allow me a question, Dr. Brown: What was your impression of Katherine and her health?"

Her health was something Elijah did worry about. He was already concerned about how she’s going to survive out there, especially after he learned that she didn’t seem to have money. After he had realized how fast something serious and fatal can happen to a human, however, his concern grew even more.

And apparently, his concerns were justified.

The doctor sighed and folded his hands on top of his desk.

"In all honesty, Mr. Mikaeson, it appeared as if Miss Forbes had a couple of rough weeks. She seemed ... paranoid when we wanted to take her blood to test it in our laboratory. It wasn't the usual fear we see from other patients when it comes to needles or blood, she seemed to not agree on being it taken in the first place. We also have reason to believe that she has suffered violence-," the doctor glanced at him sharply but Elijah ignored it, instead, his frown only deepened, "-domestic abuse perhaps."

Someone had dared to lay a finger on her. Elijah did his best to suppress a snarl.

"Are you implying someone has hurt her?"

"We have reason to believe so, yes. Although we cannot be sure because the marks were already almost healed but she had a whiff of bruises on her neck and arms. As already mentioned, it could be from an old accident perhaps but the location of them implies that it was violence against her."

Elijah inhaled sharply, his hands clenched into fists under the desk. If he learns that someone has hurt her, hell will break loose for that person!

"Anything else which may be relevant?"

"We weren't able to run the necessary tests but I suggest someone should examine her blood, her lungs, and her heart. There seemed to be irregularities but that could also be because she was under a lot of stress lately. I would also recommend a lot of rest until she's healed properly and her levels are back in the green area as well as seeing a doctor soon in order to make sure she doesn’t develop pneumonia."

Elijah nodded, hoping that her condition was better by now because he had no idea why Katerina left the hospital in a hurry despite being told that she needed to stay and rest. 

"Thank you for your time, Dr. Brown. Her bills are probably not yet paid so please send them to this address" Elijah gave him the business card of the hotel he's currently staying in but didn't hand back Katerina's file. It's better such valuable information stays with him.

"Mr. Mikaelson?"

Elijah stopped in his trails and turned around once more, having already been on his way to the door.

"I forgot to give you this", Dr. Brown surrounded his desk and handed him a white envelope. "We wanted to give it to the lost property office after Ms. Forbes didn't return to us but somehow it must have been overlooked. Unfortunately, we're often in a hurry and I apologize if it caused any inconvenience. We had to take them off because of the scans."

The Original didn't know what he was talking about but took the envelope without any further inquiry.

"Thank you, Dr. Brown."

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Elijah had pondered when it's going to be the right time to call Caroline Forbes. His impatience said immediately, his reason told him to wait until he's back in his hotel suite. He didn't want to waste time but he also needed to make sure he's calm and collected. Right now, however, he wasn't any of it.

His sorrows are riding rollercoasters. It appears as if he's never going to reach a phase in which everything seems to calm down.

Elijah hasn't studied Katerina's hospital files entirely. In fact, he had only looked for Caroline's number before he's going to indulge in more details of Katerina's report.

Nonetheless, there's something which had struck him and which wasn't good at all. The report was from two months ago, meaning that too much time has passed already to rely on the belief Katerina's still in the area, not to question in what state she is. From what he has gathered and was informed, her state was critical at the time she was brought to the hospital.

However, it's probably better if he focuses on his next step instead of worrying too much about the 'what if's' again. Perhaps Katerina is staying with Caroline by now and all his worries have been for nothing.

Before Elijah called Caroline after he finally arrived back in his suite, he changed. He felt more comfortable in a new suit that didn't smell like a hospital. In fact, his convenience increased which was a good condition for staying focused. And patient. Patience is a trait he seemed to lose the longer his search for Katerina continued although he continuously reminded himself why it's so important to act calm and with patience.

A quick glance at his watch told him that now it's an appropriate time for a serious conversation so he took in a deep breath, reminded himself of his goals and aims, and then tipped in the number of Caroline Forbes.

Mercifully, it didn’t take long until the call was answered.

"Miss Forbes?"

"Who's this?"

The Original exhaled in relief as he recognized the voice of the blonde, although admittedly, the memory of her is almost non-existent. He never thought he'd interact with her or even call her. However, despite the lack of interaction, he's aware that she'll know exactly who he is and that she's going to have reservations about talking to him. Let alone share any possible valuable information. Another reason why he needed to act smart and calm.

"Elijah Mikaelson. I know this must come very unexpected, but I require information you presumably have."

He heard her sucking in a deep breath as she went awfully quiet for a few moments.

"Wait a minute. The Elijah Mikaelson? Where did you get my freakin' number?"

He'd probably be amused by the panic and disbelief in her voice, but the reason for his call is urgent and he can't muster up any amusement.

"The same reason why I called you. It was in Katherine Pierce's medical record. Apparently, she poses as your sister nowadays and I hope you perhaps know where she is now."

Again, silence is filling the line and he could basically hear her thinking. It must come very surprising for her.

"How did you get- ... wait! Why do you think I'm going to tell you anything about Katherine Pierce?"

"I believe we have shared interests. Apparently, you don't want her dead, neither do I."

At least that's what he hoped. Katerina has had a rather troubled past in Mystic Falls, leading to her gathering a few people that weren't exactly fond of her. He hoped that his assumption was right and the relationship between Katerina and Caroline was friendly, although he still can't comprehend how it comes she seemed to trust the blonde as much as to put her on the emergency contact list. If there's anyone who knows about Katerina, it's Caroline Forbes. As unbelievable as it is.

"And I'm supposed to believe that? Even if I had knowledge about anything regarding Katherine, why should I tell you? Aren't you the one who wanted her dead for all her life?"

The accusation came unexpected and he tried to ignore the knot in his gut, his fingers tensing around the phone while he tried his best to remain calm. While he had expected some resistance, he hadn't prepared himself for such an accusation that stirred up anger within him. However, he tried his best to swallow it down and answer neutrally.

"I fear you're confusing me with my brother."

"It's still the same. I was told you locked her in the tomb. Doesn't sound like you're too interested in her well-being."

His fingers cracked as he closed his hand into a fist, his eyes narrowed while he stared out of the window that led to the balcony of his hotel suite. He did not tolerate any false allegations, didn't approve of the lack of respect Caroline voiced. Although she's of course right because he had compelled Katerina to stay in the tomb. However, his main intention had certainly not been letting her rot there. It has been the only place she had been safe from Klaus.

"And now I fear that's where you're wrong. I am concerned about Katherine's well-being, that's why I need to know where she is now."

"Is that how you Mikaelson's think the world works? You snap with your fingers, demand something, and expect you immediately get it?"

He blinked in confusion at her words, not really knowing where that came from. Apparently talking to him from a distance seemed to give her some confidence.

"Miss Forbes ... I appreciate your concern for my intentions regarding the woman known as Katherine Pierce but I assure you the information is needed. I ask you to share every information you have about Katherine's whereabouts."

"I'm not dumb if that's what you thinking. Let's say I have information about Katherine Pierce, why would I want to share it with you? A friend's loyal to their friends, I'm not going to throw her under the bus if she's my friend and I have knowledge about something regarding her life."

He relaxed because although probably not intended, Caroline has just let him know that she indeed has information about Katerina. Otherwise, she wouldn't have mentioned matters of loyalty. And loyalty was something he appreciated, something he was indeed thankful for, especially in that delicate matter.

Elijah knew that it was now up to him to convince Caroline that his intentions were true, that he didn't intend on using the information to harm her. Although that required exposing details he wasn't keen on sharing with everyone. He rather keeps his private life well ... private. However, it was needed if he wanted to find Katerina as soon as possible.

"Katherine and I ... we've been in a relationship shortly before ... before she turned human. It would ease my mind knowing she's doing okay."

There's another pause but he could fill the mood change.

"Oh my god ... you... you and Katherine? How come no one has told me about it? I mean ... you two ... you two don't really fit each other. I mean ... I mean no offense but you're this scary, intimidating, and stoic Original whereas she's this scary but very vivid and fun-loving woman. How can that work out?"

She sounded genuinely surprised which finally elicited a little smile on his lips. It had something pure and admittedly, she hit the nail on the head. Katerina and he were an unlike pairing but -- although he never admitted it out loud -- that was just what he had needed. She completed him in a way he hadn't known, gave him the things he lacked himself.

"I believe Katherine and I have always shared a certain connection. It surprises me the Salvatores didn't lack respect in that matter as they always do."

His tone didn't imply how much he missed her, how much he worries about her. Instead, he focused on the dreadful Salvatores and wondered why they haven't mentioned their little encounter around, especially because usually, they aren't that cautious.

"Wait, they knew about you two? How could I miss those things? But ... but Katherine didn't seem to be in a relationship anymore so you two broke up? Why are you even interested in her anymore? Apparently, you didn't care before?"

His lips pressed together into a thin line and he tried to swallow down the bitter taste on his tongue.

"Look, it's an understatement to say things have been complicated but I am interested in her well-being and it would help me a lot if you could share information if you have any."

"Oh -- so he was right? I swear he only mentioned it because he needed an excuse. It sounded so lied..."

Now Elijah started to frown because he has no idea what she was talking about. Who was 'he'? And what had it to do with his request?

"What are you talking about, Caroline?"

"Klaus. He came to Mystic Falls saying he wants to look for you because you're jumbled and you need to come back."

The color drained from his face at the mention of Niklaus. While it didn't surprise him that his brother attempted another poor try to get him back to New Orleans, it surprised him that he'd chosen Mystic Falls for his search. While Mystic Falls had been their home once, Elijah didn't hold much sentimentality for this place, unlike the rest of his siblings. However, Mystic Falls had been the place where he had told his brother about Katerina and his intentions with her.

"My brother was in Mystic Falls? Has he gathered any information about Katherine?"

"No, I don't think so. I think she was the latest that's been on his mind that day...."

Was she? If he knew anything about his brother, it was his boundless vengeance and need to control. If Katerina were to get into his hands ... No, he didn't want to think about it and could only hardly hold back a growl. Rebekah has assured him that Niklaus doesn't know about Katerina's new status. She wouldn't lie to him about that.

"Are you absolutely certain?"

"Yes! Oh my god, I thought you were the one who values privacy!"

His eyebrows raised in surprise at Caroline's reactions, again puzzled by how this conversation turns and twists.

"Listen, your personal matters are non of my interest," he assured her, suddenly remembering his brother's odd fascination with the blonde. Perhaps that was the reason for this unusual reaction, "All I care about is the whereabouts of Katherine. So, do you have any information or not?"

"Before I tell anything I need to make sure you're telling the truth. Is this the number I can reach you?"

"Yes"

"Then I call you after I verified your words. Bye."

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The ticking of the clock seemed to mock him and his malaise.

A part of him had hoped that Caroline is going to call him back in a matter of a few hours but as time passed, his phone didn't ring once, making him question the blonde's intentions.

What if she doesn't call back?

The solution is simple, although he wasn't particularly fond of the idea. He didn't want to leave and travel to Mystic Falls to compel the truth out of Caroline or anyone else that he gets his hands on, especially because he knew that it's likely they are on vervain which meant he had to wait for 24 hours until it's safe to assume the compulsion works.

Time he wasn't keen on wasting on people who better not dare to show themselves before him because he can't guarantee anything. His nerves and patience are strained to the utmost and he couldn't ensure he won't kill someone, especially if it came to the pesky Salvatore.

He can't risk causing messes right now because his main attention should be set on Katerina and her well-being.

Eventually, he managed to calm his nerves enough to study Katerina's file again because he thought that is going to help him make the right choices if he's going to find her. Furthermore, it may help him to put together the pieces of her journey.

Which, in hindsight, was probably all too optimistic.

But as he browsed through the admission and medical reports, the white envelope that he had put quickly in the file caught his attention again. He recalled the words of Dr. Brown 'we had to take them off because of the scans' but because of the important conversation he had to have with Caroline Forbes, Elijah must have forgotten about it.

He had already noted that the envelope was quite heavy for a simple letter when it was handed over to him and he noticed it again now as he took it in his hands.

Whatever it was, it belonged to Katerina and he wasn't sure if he should open it. If he was even entitled to do so. Although on the other hand, he also wasn't quite entitled to have her medical file in his possession.

Elijah's thumb brushed thoughtfully over the flap as he considered the pros and cons before he simply opened it and peeked into the content.

At first, there was nothing much to see or even identify. Just a pile of silver material. But as he carefully poured the content in his palm, Elijah's eyes widened slightly as he finally realized what it was.

Katerina's daylight jewelry!

He gently detangled the delicate necklace, careful to not break anything until it was neat again before the pad of this thumb brushed over its Lapislazuli pendant.

Although Katerina was no longer a vampire, he assumed that she mourned its loss because it certainly holds some sentimentality in it. It surprised him that Katerina hadn't taken the necklace she sometimes used as a bracelet not with her, perhaps she was in such a hurry that she either forget it or wasn't able to find it immediately. He remembered that she didn't take it off even once, not even when she was showering or taking an almost impressive long bath in the middle of the night. Something which was quite understandable because daylight jewelry is rare and especially someone like Katerina was dependent on having it as it made it possible to travel during the daytime.

Elijah watched the necklace in his hands a while longer, feeling so connected to Katerina as he had never felt before. It was different than looking at photos because this necklace is actually something that belonged to Katerina, which was a part of her.

For a short moment, Elijah wondered if this necklace would allow him to detect her whereabouts but as thrilling as the idea seemed to be, he didn't want to hand it over to a witch, potentially having it destroyed or damaged, especially not now after he had a good lead with Caroline Forbes. Furthermore, spells didn't seem to be all too clear when it came to Katherine Pierce.

Nonetheless having it with him now held importance to Elijah, even managed to bring a little smile forth as he took another paper and wrapped the necklace carefully around it so it won't get tangled again before he put it back into the envelope.

Elijah is going to make sure it's going to return to her and until then, he's keeping it safe for her.

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Two whole day have passed and it was already late in the night as Elijah's phone suddenly vibrated. The Original wasn't asleep yet (sleep was something which in general didn't seem to find him), instead, he was focused on a book of human healing arts.

Of course, he had hoped, wished, that it was Caroline that finally called him back, unfortunately, however, that wasn't the case.

It was his sister.

Elijah debated if he should answer the call or not as he had no real desire to talk to his family, knowing already how their conversation is going to turn out. In the end, however, he decided to answer the call.

"Yes?"

"Elijah! Thank god. I feared something happened to you."

"I appreciate your concern, dear sister, but just because I chose radio silence doesn't mean something has happened to me", although she's right, of course. It wasn't like him to cancel all contacts with his family. Usually, being silent meant that their brother has stuffed them in a coffin.

"Have the two of you still not made peace?", Rebekah asked, and although she didn't mention any names, Elijah was aware that she was talking about Niklaus and him.

"As I've already told our brother, forgiveness is earned. Right now he still doesn't seem to understand the concept.", Elijah simply retorted, having his brother's several annoying attempts of luring him back to New Orleans in mind.

"Is it really just because he daggered you? Because I know I am tearing furious if he does it with me but it's been months and you aren't the unforgiving sibling if it comes to Nik."

Elijah exhaled, his gaze fixed on the open sides of the book he had previously read.

"Our brother needs to learn that there are consequences for his treacherous actions, that his siblings are no deposit for him to use as he wishes." Of course, there was more to it because Niklaus' actions had resulted in Elijah's current search for his beloved, always having to fear that he's coming too late, that she's forever lost to him. And just as if his sister could read his mind, she made the conclusion of the real reasons.

"Please don't tell me you've decided to take your time off because you're still after Katherine. Our family finally has the chance to start new, to have an almost human experience."

"What if I do prefer my own luck for once?"

"With that manipulative wench? Elijah please, she can't possibly be the one who finally makes you desire a life without being chained to Klaus. She'll burn you."

Elijah's gaze darkened and he clenched his free hand to fist.

"Watch your language, Rebekah.", his voice is calm but there's obvious disapproval in his tone. And he meant it. If his sister is going to continue to insult Katerina, he'll end their conversation.

"But it's true. You're being blinded by something that probably doesn't even exist. When she was still in Mystic Falls, she was pretty much focused on getting back into Stefan Salvatore's pants."

Elijah can't deny that a wave of jealousy swept through his veins, along with a hint of pain as he imagined the two of them together. The muscle in his jaw jumped at the thought that perhaps, Katerina preferred someone else.

"Well, Katherine can organize her private life the way she wants. I'm hardly in a position to judge her for her choices."

"Then what do you want from her?"

Yes, what did he want from her? Of course, he wanted to make sure that Katerina is safe and fine. He didn't want her to be scared and have no idea how she's supposed to survive the next day. However, there were also more selfish reasons why he needed to find her. Elijah needed Katerina. He needed her in his life to make it worthwhile. And yes, he wanted, hoped, to get her trust and perhaps even her love back.

This is, however, something that's none of Rebekah's concern so he chose to simply ignore her question and picked another topic.

"How's Hope?"

"Oh, she's doing fine. You can't believe what a lovely baby she is. I could kiss and cuddle her all time," Rebekah stated and Elijah relaxed because apparently, Rebekah let go of the previous topic. Furthermore, it relieved him to know that everything was okay with his little niece.

"I wish I could be a part of her life and see her but it's safer the way if she stays with you." Yes, Rebekah taking care of their niece somewhere far away and safe was the better option, although it filled him with regret that he wasn't there for Hope as he should be.

"Someday you're able to visit, Elijah. I really believe in that. Things just have to settle down in New Orleans so she can return to her parents." Elijah's lips pulled upwards at the thought because he is actually looking forward to finally meeting his niece properly.

"There's something else I wanted to ask you..." Elijah's eyebrows furrowed at his sister's question, hoping that she won't come to the Katerina topic again.

"Please go on"

"I was thinking about our family lately. About our siblings both alive and unfortunately already deceased." Elijah had honestly no idea where Rebekah's sudden interest in digging into their past came from. However, he continued to listen to her words.

"There's one sibling I never met, one who was hardly mentioned. I don't even know their name...."

It took some time until Elijah remembered that there was indeed another sibling. One he had also never met, despite being older than Niklaus and Rebekah.

"Mother mentioned we had an older sister. She must have died because of a disease, a plague, somewhere before I was born. Apparently, her death was the reason why our parents decided to settle over to the New World after I was born" These were old stories, so old that it certainly didn't cross his mind nowadays. Oddly enough, she must have been loved dearly by their father, and perhaps it explains why Mikael was way fonder of Rebekah than he was of his (biological) sons. It surprised him that Rebekah suddenly harbors any interest in such old stories.

"But do you know her name?"

Her question let Elijah frown even more because despite wanting to recall their older sister's name, nothing came into his mind.

"Our parents didn't like to speak about her. Actually, I don’t remember them ever talking about her any longer." Their older sister seemed to be some kind of red flag for their parents. "Is there any reason why you want to know?"

"No, Elijah. Just curiosity."

The older Original squinted his eyes slightly, something telling him that there was a reason why Rebekah had asked about their late older sister. He knew that Finn as the oldest had known their older sister but he also never spoke about her. Elijah had never questioned that, perhaps he should have. Now, however, it's too late.

He’s thought about it for a long time, even after his conversation with his sister had ended because he couldn't shake the feeling that something was odd about her request for information. He couldn't explain it, however, although he could also not tell the reason for her question.

He has been separated from his family for some time now, although, measured by their lifetime, it seemed like a mere few seconds. Elijah didn't know what Niklaus was up to, didn't know what his siblings had going on although it would be smarter to not attract attention for their niece's sake. There's certainly something going on and Elijah wished he would know what it was although he'd rather brush it off as a mere interest in family stories. Perhaps spending time with a baby and allowing it to take care of it had changed Rebekah's view on family. He certainly hoped it would.

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Another day had passed without any call back from Caroline Forbes and Elijah started to become restless because time passed without him doing anything. Something he considered as fatal because he knew how precious time was nowadays, that even a minute can make a difference. He also couldn't comprehend what took the blonde so long to verify his words because firstly, he wasn't a liar, and secondly, his relationship with Katerina seemed to have been a topic of conversation. Although he wasn't too keen on making such personal matters public, he knew that unfortunately, many people seemed to think they're allowed to have an opinion about it, even dared to question his sanity.

Elijah wasn't capable of sitting still at his desk and focusing on the lecture in front of him (another book about healing arts). His eyes flickered to his watch every few minutes while at the same time, he thought about the given possibilities. Perhaps traveling to Mystic Falls and using compulsion is the best opinion. Perhaps he should consider using Katerina's necklace. Perhaps he should call one of his witches. Perhaps he should just go on searching in the blind. Perhaps...

The vibrating of his phone tore him out of his thoughts and finally caused him to stop from his restless wandering around in his suite. Without any hesitation, perhaps even impatiently, he answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Elijah?"

The Original exhaled in relief as he recognized Caroline's voice.

"Yes, you're having the right number, Miss Forbes. I assume you could verify my words right now?" he asked politely although his impatience ascended into the Immeasurable.

"Yes, I had. And sorry for the wait. I had to develop a tactic. Can't possibly go to Stefan and ask what had happened while they were away searching for the cure and if he can confirm Elijah and Katherine were a thing." By the tone of her voice, Elijah could tell she seemed to be amused by the thought of it. But there's also a prouder tone swinging in her words because apparently, she enjoyed having been successful in her 'detective' work. At the mention of Stefan Salvatore, however, Elijah couldn't ignore the memory of what his sister had told him about Katerina and her apparent desire for the younger Salvatore. He refused to believe it, of course, but the slight hint of jealousy couldn't be denied.

"Surely then you can grant me my desired information about Katherine's whereabouts?"

"Yes, I can. Although I still can't understand why you want to know now. Wanting to know she's safe or not. Which is actually kinda cute, I suppose." Elijah's eyebrows raised in surprise mixed with confusion at Caroline's words because it was unexpected to hear such a thing. Nevertheless, it's not what he had hoped to hear and he'd be thankful if she could quit the chitchat now and get to the point.

"Caroline, the location please..."

"Oh right ... Katherine told me she's staying with someone in Charleston, near White Point Garden."

"Do you have a name?"

"No, unfortunately not. But it's an older woman, apparently."

Elijah's eyes widened slightly at the mention of an older woman, being reminded of the locator spell done so many months ago which had shown him an elderly woman. Is that the same person? It can't possibly be because Katerina had been spotted at other places after he had started his search. If she had planned to go to Charleston the entire time, why hadn't she chosen a different route? The shortest path wouldn't have led over Charlotte or Columbia and everything that's in between, including that dreadful gas station.

The Original exhaled and pinched the bag of his nose as he tried to sort his thoughts.

"And do you know if she's still staying there?"

"No, I don't. Katherine's not exactly the type of person who gives daily updates. But I assume she's still in that area because she hasn't told me anything about moving. But I don't even know if it's right to tell you anyway, you know? Katherine hasn't told anyone but me, not even ...."

"Yes?"

"Well.... she hasn't even told Stefan. "

"I see....", although Elijah understood nothing. He hadn't been aware that apparently, Stefan Salvatore seemed to hold such a big part in Katerina's life. But now both Rebekah and Caroline have mentioned the younger Salvatore independently of each other and he wondered if perhaps it's true what his sister had said: That Katerina had moved on.

Not that this new revelation would change anything about his mission because he still sought to find her and offer her his help in this difficult situation she was in. Nonetheless, he can't deny the sting in his heart to know that perhaps, Katerina had given her heart to someone else, to someone who can't possibly value her.

Stefan Salvatore and the doppelgänger Elena Gilbert always seemed to be an unmatchable team. He doubted Stefan's interest in Katerina -- if there even was any -- is wholehearted, therefore he can't comprehend why Katerina should be so keen on getting the younger Salvatore's attention.

"I'll make sure she won't find out from where I've gathered the piece of information. You don't have to worry about possibly betraying her trust in you," Elijah spoke and meant it, especially because he started to consider the blonde vampire as a reliable source of information. He certainly won't shy away from using every detail he can get in order to find Katerina.

"Thank you. And Elijah?"

"Yes?"

"I can't believe I'm really saying this because she certainly can be a big bitch but ... don't hurt her. I came to like her and I don't want her to get hurt."

"You have nothing to fear, Miss Forbes. As I've already told you, it's not my intention to harm Katherine."

"That's not what I meant...."

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After having pondered about Caroline's words and the obvious meaning behind them, as well as getting other things done, Elijah started to pack his things, having a new destination in mind.

"Please bring the bags in my car, will you?" he ordered and didn't look up when the people of the hotel's staff grabbed the bags and his suits that were neatly packed in protective garment covers.

It's drawing outside, the sun is just about to rise and Elijah was ready to hopefully start the last part of his journey in his search for Katerina. He had showered and shaved. His entire appearance looked impeccable, ready to meet Katerina again.

As soon as he had finished the call with Caroline, he had ordered a few of his people to travel to Charleston in South Carolina with the order to look for a house inhabited by an old lady with flowers on the outside of the window. That's what he had remembered from the vision giving to him by his witch in Lafayette. Of course, he's aware that there're going to be plenty of homes to which the conditions would apply, but Elijah hoped he'd find it fast. And with a population of about 135.000 people, it's definitely gonna take some time. At least he had a rough direction, knowing that apparently the old lady is settled somewhere in the south of Charleston.

Elijah folded the map of the area that laid in front of him neatly after he had studied its structure. Then, he carefully took the white envelope with Katerina's necklace in his hands and placed it into the left inside of his suit jacket. He's going to make sure nothing happens to Katerina's daylight jewelry until he's having the opportunity to give it back to her.

Then, he switched off the lights and left his hotel suite, knowing that he's going to be in Charleston and therefore closer to Katerina in not even two hours.

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A/N: I hope you've liked this enormous chapter and are excited for the next one. Do you think Caroline told the truth? And how do you think is Elijah going to handle meeting Katherine again? What will he do? Will he talk to her right after he finds her? I'm also not sure if I should continue to write in Elijah's POV as I come to like it or should switch back to Katherine's POV. What do you think? Please consider leaving feedback as it keeps my muse for writing alive.♥

[drprettyboyspence]

Memory Lane

Dr. Spencer Reid/reader

Summary: Reader just can't seem to get to sleep one night so she decides to walk around the house she shares with her boyfriend, Spencer Reid. As she travels around the house she remembers significant moments in their relationship.

words: 2.9k

warnings: season 12 spoilers, mentioning of mental illness, nothing else to my knowledge! (just a lot of fluff) 

a/n: This is my first Spencer Reid fic and I kinda went off the rails with the word count, let me know if you enjoy it :)

I turn myself over in bed for what feels like the four hundredth time this hour, facing the ceiling now. I can hear the rustling of leaves outside and the distant sirens of the city, remembering how those sounds used to bring me some sort of comfort as a child, now all I can think of is the death and tragedy being an FBI profiler has brought me into contact with, the horrors at the end of the trail of sirens. Mostly noticeably though, I hear the steady breathing of the man lying next to me in the king bed, glancing over at my boyfriend of almost 4 years I smile warmly, his unruly hair draped over the pillow, glad to see him in deep sleep. Recently he hasn’t been sleeping well, suffering from PTSD from his time spent in prison as well as all the trauma the poor man has been through in the last 10 years of his life. I quietly get out of bed, making sure not to bother him, he deserves a good nights sleep and we have to be at the BAU in a depressingly minuscule amount of hours. My feet hit the cold wooden floors and I wonder for the uncountable time “Why did we decide on wooden floors?” A memory of an argument with Spencer answers my question,  

“Because silly, don’t you know that carpets can hold up to 200,000 bacteria per square inch, this room is 100 square feet, 144 square inches per square foot, that is 28,800,000 bacteria in our bedroom alone.” I remember shaking my head at him, he’s always been such a germaphobe. In fact, when we first met, he shook my hand, and later when I confided in JJ and Penelope that I had pretty intense feelings for the resident genius of the BAU, they mentioned that he usually hates shaking hands, is known for refusing to shake the hands of many people the team comes into contact with on cases. He shook my hand right away, it’s one of the things I love about him and we always say we knew right away that we had a special connection. I glance at Spencer’s sleeping frame one more time before leaving the bedroom and making my way down the hallway. There are pictures there, pictures of me and Spence, him and his mom, pictures of the team at work, Spencer won’t admit it often, but he wakes up every morning scared that he won’t remember those he loves, his mother’s dementia and schizophrenia have impacted him greatly. I stop in front of a picture of me and Spence, it’s the first picture we ever took together, Halloween almost 5 years ago now, at the FBI Halloween party.

October 2015

“Come on Y/n! How can you not love Halloween!”

“Spencer, what’s so great about Halloween!” I had asked laughing while filling up a plastic cup with punch. The party is fun, but all this dressing up just seems silly to me sometimes.

“It’s a uniquely American holiday! I mean, despite its obvious origins in the Celtic festival of Samhain and the Christian All Saints’ Day, it really is a melting pot of various immigrants’ traditions and beliefs. It became a little more commercialized in the 1950s with trick-or-treat, and today it rivals only Christmas in terms of popularity!” I catch JJ’s eyes from across the room, she gives me a sympathetic look as I’m stuck in another of Reid’s constant statistics rants. Frankly, I don’t understand how the rest of the team can cut Reid off when he’s like this. He’s so genuinely excited by this holiday it makes my budding feelings for the man standing in front of me even stronger.

“Aw you guys look so cute! Say cheese!” the always-hyper voice of Penelope Garcia shouts from across the bullpen, snapping a quick picture of me and Spence before running after Derek. I glance down at my phone and see a text from Penelope “It doesn’t take a profiler to realize how gone you are for him Y/n” I blush profusely before continuing my conversation with Spencer.

Present day

Tearing my eyes away from that specific picture, I continue walking to the end of the hallway, painfully aware that the floorboards are squeaking with my every step, hoping Spencer’s just-finished-a-case level of exhaustion will prevent him from waking up. I pass the threshold into the kitchen and see the dim light of the clock over the stove, the red 2:15 blinking back at me through my tired eyes, I just can’t seem to get to sleep tonight, I’m sure Spencer would say something like

“Chronic insomnia is usually tied to an underlying mental or physical issue. Anxiety, stress, and depression are some of the most common causes of chronic insomnia but even if you do not suffer from chronic insomnia, 35% of Americans report their sleep quality as poor or only fair.” Dating a living encyclopedia definitely has its perks I suppose. I walk towards the fridge and glance at the refrigerator, my eyes traveling to a postcard held up by a doctor who magnet. Houston, Texas the postcard reads.

February 2017

Me and Spencer had been dating for less than 6 months but as we had known each other for over a year I was falling head over heels in love with him. The last few months hadn’t been easy, Spencer learned that his mother had been diagnosed with dementia and not a day had gone by where he didn’t try and find a cure, he had been traveling to Houston,Texas to talk with his mother’s doctor, he then brought her to live with him in Virginia, it had been difficult to say the least. My fingers traced the edges of the postcard I had received in the mail this morning, then flipped it over and saw Spencer’s familiar scraggly handwriting, it read

Dear Y/n,

I was able to speak with my mother’s doctors today, I feel as though there must be more I can be doing, she seems to be responding to the medicines but I am looking into new methods of treating the disease. I miss you so much Y/n, and I miss the rest of the team as well, tell them I will be back as soon as I can, I hate the thought of you putting yourself in danger on cases without me there, not because I doubt your ability to protect yourself, but because I doubt my ability to handle being 1,402 miles away from you. Please do not worry about me, if you’re anxiously awaiting my return, stop looking at the clock because remember, when looking at a clock our brains anticipate what we’ll see faster than we actually see it, so the clock seems to stop, Ill be back before you know it Y/n.

With all my love, Spencer Reid.

I giggle quietly at the added facts, only Spencer would describe the phenomenon of a clock appearing stopped when glanced out. I’m concerned about Spencer though, I’m not sure what is going on, but there is definitely something not right with him and if I didn’t trust him so much I would consider asking Garcia to do a background check to check the legitimacy of his travels to Houston.

Present Day

This postcard is extremely bittersweet, the next week we were all rushing to Mexico, responding to a call that Spencer was in jail, I was a nervous wreck, we all were, it was an extremely rough 6 months, truly showing me how strong the man I love is. I push some of those harsh memories out of my brain, choosing to focus on the happy memories if I ever want to fall asleep tonight. There’s a coffee machine next to the fridge, if there’s one thing Spencer loves more than me, its coffee, or rather coffee flavored sugar with the amount of sweetener he puts in his cup every day. Spencer smells like coffee, almost always, he struggles to sleep most nights and therefore is always hyped up on caffeine. It's actually played a huge role in our relationship.

August 2016

Dr. Spencer Reid and I are walking to the BAU together as we do every single day, we live close to each other, close enough that he walks about 5 minutes before arriving at my house, we then walk to the coffee shop on the way to the train station. We’re best friends, but I’ve been secretly in love with him for months. Walking into Quantico, we get the daily glances from Penelope, Derek, and JJ who are sitting together looking at pictures of Henry. Penelope always teases me that we’re both so in love with each other that everyone can see it but us, it’s ironic actually. As much as I don’t believe Pen, I have been noticing small changes in Spence’s behavior the last couple months, prompting me to, in the deepest corners of my mind, hope that maybe he feels the same way, our friendship is worth too much to risk him not feeling the same way though, so I’m forever stuck. We aren’t on a case right now, so there’s a lot of paperwork to be done, at one point during the day I get up, asking Spence if he wants another cup of coffee before walking to the break room. I return after a brief 5 minutes and am surprised to see Derek sitting in my seat, arguing with Spencer.

“Come on Pretty boy! We both know you’re in love with her! Just ask her out man, she’ll say yes!”

“Morgan, quiet down, she’ll be back any minute, besides I’m 35 and Y/n is 32, I’m not saying there would even be a chance that we would get married but the marriage success rate in the United States is only 50%, the worst it has ever been, that therefore shows the state of relationships in the country as well, I don’t want to ruin our friendship, I could never lose her. Besides, I’ve never been good with women.”

“But that’s the thing pretty boy, you don’t have to be good with women, you’re already good with Y/n, she’s the one who matters, just ask her out man, you’ll regret it if you don’t.” With that Morgan walks away and I take a deep breath, its now or never, walking over to Spencer and setting down the cup, whispering in his ear,

“You never know how good with women you are until you try, Spence” He looks up at me with wide eyes and licks his tongue across his lips, something he does often.

“Um, Y/n, y-you heard all of that?” I nod and I can see Spence take a deep breath just as I did before walking over, “W-would you like to um- go to dinner with me Y/n?”

“Hmm I don’t know…” Spencer’s face starts to fall as I quickly continue “Of course I would love to go to dinner with you silly, what did you think?” His smile lights up the entire room as he pulls me into a deep hug.

“Well finally you two. You couldn’t have waited just a few more months though, I assumed you lovebirds wouldn’t get it together until after Spencer’s birthday” Rossi says from behind us, passing a pretty hefty stack of bills to Penelope.

That was the day that started the greatest adventure of my life.

Present Day

I leave the kitchen and walk to the living room, a chilly breeze blows my hair slightly askew, its June in Virginia, warm enough that all I’m wearing is one of Spence’s oversized MIT shirts with pajama shorts, but the night air causes slight goosebumps on my skin, sending me into my memories once again.

August 2019

Spencer and I are sitting on the couch, participating in yet another Doctor Who marathon on the tv, it's a rare day off from work and the hot summer air fills our living room even with the fan blowing through the house. I lie my head in Spencer’s lap as we watch the tv and his strong hand strokes the back of my neck, causing goosebumps to pop up all over my arms. I giggle and glance up at him causing him to pointedly look at me asking me with his eyes “What is so funny that you dare distract from Doctor Who?”

“It’s just strange, its 95 degrees outside but your hands on my neck give me goosebumps like its a crisp fall day, isn’t that funny baby?”

“Of course the most common cause of goosebumps is cold weather, but when you’re experiencing extreme emotions, the human body responds in a variety of ways. Two common responses include increased electrical activity in the muscles just under the skin and increased depth or heaviness of breathing, resulting in goosebumps.” I roll my eyes at him and playfully swat his hair out of his eyes.

“Only you, Dr. Spencer Reid, would take a romantic statement and turn it into statistics, and I love you for that” he kisses me and well, the Doctor Who marathon was quickly turned off after that.

Present Day

As I turn the corner into the living room I smile warmly, it’s the room that Spencer and I like the best. There are book cases lining the back wall, Spencer loves books, I’d ask him what made his books so special and he’d tell me stories of his childhood, his mom reading him 15th century literature, I loved when Spence told me stories about his childhood.

December 2017

I knocked on the door of Spencer’s apartment, it wasn’t like him to be late for our daily walk to work especially because he had been on probation after his time in jail. I received no answer, prompting my concern as I unlocked the door with the key he had given me. I walked into his living room and saw him, Spencer was sitting in the middle of the floor surrounded by books, running his fingers up and down the pages as he does when he’s reading at his top speed.

“Spence what on earth are you doing! Where did all these books come from? We aren’t on a case are we?”

“This year in the United States alone there have been 328,259 new books published, I read at 20,000 words per minute but at an average of 100,000 words per book, it would take me 27,377 hours to read all those books!”

“Oh Spencer how I love you, you don’t need to read every book ever published, are you going to start reading romance novels?” I tease while picking up a copy of 50 Shades of Gray from the ground at Spencer’s feet.

“Okay maybe you’re right, I just feel like I missed so much time when I was incarcerated, all that reading I could’ve done when I was trapped in that place, it's time I can never get back.”

“Spencer, I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you, but this is not going to help that feeling go away, let’s go to work.” Spencer nodded and began to tidy up the floor before following me out the door.

“Wait, Y/n, I have to ask you something that I’ve meant to say since I’ve gotten out of jail, and I might as well say it now, will you move in with me?” He’s chewing on his bottom lip again and I jump into his arms in excitement, kissing his hair as he caresses the back of my head.

“Of course I’ll move in with you! I love you, Dr. Spencer Reid.”

“And I love you Y/n Y/l/n.”

Present Day

I’m coming around to the opposite side of the living room now, sitting down on the couch in front of the fireplace. I love the fireplace in our house and I think secretly Spencer does too. We argued for days over the safety of having a fireplace in our house, Spencer of course supplied with enough knowledge of house fires to last him 5 lifetimes, “But Spencer it’ll be so cozy, doesn’t it sound romantic to cuddle up by the fire?” I had pleaded with him the day we toured the house for the first time.

“Y/n, there were an average of 357,400 residential fires per year in the US between 2012 and 2014, an average of 22,300 of those fires were caused by a fireplace or chimney!”

“But Spenceee, that’s only 6.24% of the residential house fires during that period, 43.9% were from cooking equipment, are you going to forbid us from having a kitchen too?” Hey, don’t underestimate how useful a cellphone calculator and a quick google search can be in winning an argument against your genius boyfriend. Obviously, we had ended up agreeing on the fireplace, but Spencer was still overly cautious whenever it was in use. As I stood in front of the fireplace I became hyper aware of the floorboards creaking in the hallway just as they had done when I left the room earlier, I felt a presence enter the room and the 6’1” frame of my boyfriend wrapped his long arms around me from behind while burying his face in the hollow of my shoulder.

“Hi, baby, what are you doing up so late? Are you feeling okay? Can’t seem to get to sleep?” I nod back at him and recline my head so it rests on his strong chest.

“I was just taking a trip down memory lane I suppose” I say before smiling up at the love of my life.

[nakediconoclast]

About a certain livestock de-wormer...

Ivermectin

.

Before I even start this post, let me get the legal shit out of the way.I am not a doctor. I haven't even been to a doctor in over 5 years.I have no medical training except for maybe 100 hours of outdated first aid training when I was in the army 40 years ago and my First Sergeant needed a break from me.I am not a pharmacist, although back in the 1980s and 90s, I have dispensed dru..... Wait, I better leave that one alone.The point being, don't take my word for shit here. Do your own research. I'm going to refer to the drug as IM in this post because I don't want Google/Blogger taking my blog down or red-paging it for not toeing the party line. It is not my purpose to try to talk you into taking it any more than I'd try to talk you out of taking the vaccine if that's what you want to do. Your body, your choice.All I'm doing is making you aware of it if you haven't already checked it out, and to pass on my own experiences and thoughts. IM has been approved for use in humans, although it's more widely known as an parasitic medication for livestock.IM, sold under the brand name Stromectol among others, is a medication that is used to treat parasite infestations. In humans, this includes head lice, scabies, river blindness (onchocerciasis), strongyloidiasis, trichuriasis, ascariasis, and lymphatic filariasis. In veterinary medicine, it is used to prevent and treat heartworm and acariasis, among other indications. It can be taken by mouth or applied to the skin for external infestations.MORE Question: If it's already been proven safe for human use, why isn't there full speed ahead testing being done to see if it works for covid?Answer: Big Pharma. IM has been off patent for years and is dirt cheap. If it's found out to be effective for covid, guess who's profits are going to nosedive in that vaccine market? * Back a few weeks ago, a very good friend who shall remain nameless - fuck it, I'll out him, it was WiscoDave - initiated a conversation with me about IM and wanted to know if I had considered taking it to 1) prevent covid and 2) use it to cure covid if I were to contract it. Me, being invincible, said no, so he turned me onto a few links and pretty much left it at that.He's a sly devil - he knew I'd eventually get bored and read them. One of them concerned a study in India. As you may recall, there was a major outbreak a couple months ago and motherfuckers were dying like flies, then all of a sudden..... nothing.Why? Because they introduced IM. HERE is the link to the study in the first sentence of this paragraph.HERE is a 25 minute youtube video along the same lines. There's more out there if you take a few seconds to look them up. Okay, I read that, then I started digging and found more articles and videos on youtube, although youtube seems to be pulling a bunch of them if they even mention covid and IM.To make a long story short, I figured to give it a try. Hell, I never was shy about trying new drugs when I was younger, so it wasn't that big of a deal.My reasoning was this: While I may be invincible, my wife is not and with her health problems, she is one of those high risk people. She doesn't get out much, so about the only way she'd get it would be from me, so I needed to protect myself, but I really don't want to get vaccinated.Besides, I keep hearing about all the deaths and complications from taking the vaccines, but I've yet to hear about anybody dying from taking IM. On top of that, every day I read about fully vaccinated people being diagnosed with covid in spite of their precautions, so even if I got vaccinated, there's a good possibility that's not going to protect my wife from getting it. Wisco had also directed me to Ann Barnhardt's IM page HERE and told me to be sure that I read it - it tells you where to buy it, how to buy it, what kinds to buy (very important!) and dosage instructions. So, armed with that knowledge, I went into town to score some of this miracle drug in the liquid form. First stop was the Farmer's Co-op in town. There was none to be had and the old boy behind the counter said they can't keep it in stock for the past few months. That seemed a little weird seeing as I haven't noticed a massive influx of livestock around here lately - unless people are buying it up to use on themselves. Bubba also told me he couldn't guarantee a hold for me when it did come in, so I headed down to Tractor Supply. Once there, I couldn't find the liquid 1% solution so I asked one of the guys and immediately started getting the 3rd degree - just exactly what I did I want it for and shit like that, so I told him it was to worm a sick donkey. He went to the back to see if there was any there, but came back to tell me there was none in stock, so I asked him to order it for me. He hemmed and hawed around until the manager walked by and told him to order anything I wanted, with as much money as I've spent in that store, so he ordered a 50ml bottle for me and I got it 3-4 days later.While I'm on the subject of Tractor Supply, if you order something online from your home, YOU pay the shipping. If you have them order it for you, it ships to your address and shipping is free - something to keep in mind. Ten bucks is ten bucks. Anyways, after I got home and was re-reading Miss Ann's page, I realized I saw the 1.87% paste there at Tractor Supply, so I hustled back down there and scored a tube for about 8 bucks.Once I got it home, I figured to give it a whirl as a preventive measure, but I didn't want to use the liquid, figuring to hold off on that in case it became 'unavailable' in the future.Now Wisco had told me the paste tasted like ass, but what the fuck, I've eaten British food before. I ain't scared. Besides, this shit was apple flavored. So I took a piece of bread, squeezed out the recommended dose (I thought), put it on the bread, folded it over and wolfed it down. I got a very slight taste of bitter apple, so I shoveled in a load of Copenhagen and that was the end of that. Now, while IM in the liquid form is taken orally, it's drawn from the bottle and measured using a syringe which can be bought at Tractor Supply, livestock supply stores and even online at vet supply sites such as Chewy.com.In the liquid form and by using a little math, you can get the dosage down for your body weight pretty easily. Using the paste, the tube dispenses the doses in 50 kilogram increments for your body weight. Luckily, as I found out, it's pretty fucking hard to overdose yourself. As I was putting the tube away, I realized I had accidentally dosed myself with double the amount recommended for my weight. It's okay to round up - better a little too much than too little according to everything I had read, but damn, I really rounded up.Like I said, the shit measures out in 50 kilo increments for body weight and I did 3 clicks instead of 2. I weigh 170 pounds and took enough for a 330 pounder.I sat down and waited to die. What I got was a very slight headache and I do mean very slight - it wasn't even bad enough to require aspirin. I didn't even cop a buzz, damn it. Okay, that's my experience. Did I have any side effects? Nope.Did I get sick to my stomach? Huh-uh.Does my dick still get hard in the morning? Most of the time, but that's my age showing.Any frothing at the mouth? Only when I brush my teeth.Do my trigger fingers still work? Yes, praise the Lord.Any newfound empathy or tolerance for Biden? Fuck no.Do I have an urge to gallop in the pasture? What happens in that pasture is between me and God. Obviously, there's precautions.Ladies, you probably don't want to take it if you're pregnant or trying to get pregnant.If you're taking medication, you most definitely want to talk with your doctor first to see if there's going to be any kind of interactions. There's a website HERE that you can check, but I think I'd want to hear it from a doctor. How you word those questions is up to you, but if it was me I wouldn't ask IF I can take it, I'd let him or her know I was going to take it and what should I know. Okay, bottom line for me: Like I said earlier, I've heard of many, many cases of horrible side effects and even deaths from taking the vaccines, but I've yet to hear of anybody taking the correct dosage of IM having any adverse effects. I'm sure there's some out there, but if they were even remotely common, the FDA would be spreading those examples everywhere. Instead, they're putting out vague warnings like this HERE.Do I believe the hype about how deadly covid is for healthy people? No. But I do believe it can make you sicker than a dog, and I generally try to avoid shit like that. And again, I do have to protect my wife by protecting myself. With her health issues, death is a very real possibility. * So, if you are considering it, please go to Ann Barnhardt's page on the stuff and read it. Again, you'll find instructions on the kind to buy (they're not all the same), dosage, how to take it, and even a little video on how to use the paste.HEREIf you're concerned about the correct dosage, she addresses that as well.HERE

[curiousconch]

Ricochet (An Open Heart AU)

Series Synopsis: Dr. Heather Song, Edenbrook’s newest diagnostician, gets embroiled in a plot of revenge against Boston’s top politician. Together with FBI Special Agent Rafael Aveiro and rising star prosecutor, Bryce Lahela, they try to uncover a web of conspiracies far greater than their imagination. Can they stop the attack in time? Or will their entangled hearts eventually become caught up in the crossfire?

Pairing: Rafael Aveiro x MC (Dr. Heather Song) x Bryce Lahela 

Words: 1.3k+ | Genre: Crime, Mystery, Thriller, Romance

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / implied violence

Author's notes: I'd like to thank the following for inspiring me to do this series:

@eleanorbloom​ - her awesome works made me see that there’s so much more to Bryce Lahela than being a meathead and a scalpel jockey

@kat-tia801 - for the captivating AU worlds she built with her TRR series, please check her works here. 

Finally, @alwaysmychoices​ - the same emotion you put into the stories of Charlie & Ethan is something I aspire to achieve with the characters of this fanfic series. 

Without these talented writers, I wouldn't be able to get this work out to the world.

PROLOGUE

"Here's the copy of the MRI you requested for Room 502, doctor," a blonde nurse dropped an envelope on the pile already in front of her.

"Thanks Kaley," she smiled and nodded briefly from the patient charts she was finishing in the nurse's station, her brunette bangs slightly rustling at the sudden movement.

She went back to the mountain of paper work she was trying to finish, her Johns Hopkins Montblanc pen squiqqling as she went. On the bottom of the last page, she wrote her full name: Dr. Heather Song, along with her medical license number. 

She opened the envelope containing the scan results, and examined the writings on the sheet of paper. No tumors - meaning that the patient's headaches were probably caused by a genetic, albeit irritating migraine. She prescribed a relaxant, and handed it to Danny, along with the rest of the clipboards. 

She bit her lower lip as she tapped on her fitbit: 8:39 pm - another 14 hour shift. It was another day at work in the diagnostics team. Thankfully, she loved her job, so she has no complaints for the long hours.

Scrolling, she checked the rest of her messages. Her frown turned into a smile as she read out a text from her boyfriend:

I'm done for the day. Pick you up in 20 minutes?

She took out her phone from the pocket of her white coat and texted him back, agreeing to the said rendezvous.

With a friendly nod to the night shift nurses, she stood up and walked towards the Diagnostics office, her white sneakers squeaking along with her steps. With the door behind her hissing closed, she went to her table and retrieved her sling bag. She shoved her ID badge and her phone inside, while she shutdown her PC. She retouched her lip gloss before shrugging off her coat, revealing a blue crew neck shirt, neatly tucked into her dark jeans.

She freed her shoulder length hair from the tight bun that she usually wears at work and brushed off the few loose strands. Once she was satisfied with her appearance, she grabbed her belongings and stepped out of the empty room, making her way towards the elevator bay. 

As she walked through Edenbrook's ground floor hallways, her pale skin glowed against the fluorescent lights. She crossed the atrium and bid her goodbye to Bobby, the hospital's security guard, then went outside, into the cold night air.

A green bomber jacket caught her sight, and her heart immediately skipped a beat. The tall, dark figure had a backpack slung on his left shoulder, his right foot tapping along a mental beat.

"Hey, handsome," Heather slung her arm around Rafael's, tiptoeing to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Missed me?"

Rafael chuckled, as his eyes glistened in the dark, humming in agreement. He returned the compliment with a quick peck on her lips.

He gazed down at her, "Hungry, Dr. Song?"

Heather nodded in excitement. She loved his cooking, but she missed the gelateria near his place.

Fond memories flooded her, making her smile. 

A year ago, Rafael first whisked her away to the same Italian ice cream shop to decompress, seeing how stressed she was with the investigation. It was the night after she called in Travis Perry to the authorities. 

Ed Farrugia was just one of those patients her team took in to increase Edenbrook's struggling funds. He was Massachusetts' most popular Senator, and the media mileage he gave the hospital prevented it from going under. 

But what they first thought as just another day in the job took a turn when Heather diagnosed the politician's illness as lead poisoning. By midday, she was able to confirm that the chemical element was not coming from his newly-purchased house. A quick search engine lookup returned a suspicious article about Travis, his aide. Not wanting to make conclusions without concrete evidence, she raised her own suspicions with her mentors, Dr. Ramsey and Chief Banerji. Collectively, they decided that the best course of action was to quietly alert the authorities. 

That day was the first time Rafael walked into the hospital's hallways.  He got assigned to the case once Dr. Naveen called the FBI Boston field office. Rafael's discreet but valiant efforts foiled the perpetrator's sinister plans - of releasing a deadly airborne poison into the hospital room of the unknowing Senator. 

He was able to stop the attack and prevented deaths, including Heather's. They later found out that the attacker wanted to take revenge on her due to her earlier attempts to treat the senator. Travis Perry admitted to sprinkling lead in the politician's assorted drinks over the years. 

With the criminal charges filed and the case handed over to the district attorney's office, they were able to focus on the budding attraction between them. Several dates and a couple of samba lessons later, it bloomed into a full-on romance. 

Heather easily fell for him. He was an easy guy to love. His ways are simple, uncomplicated. 

He was a welcome reverie from the chaos of her first  year as a junior fellow of Edenbrook's premier Diagnostics Team. It was Rafael's sweet charms that made the unbearable, bearable. His tenacity to crack the cases he was assigned to matched her own. But his motive - of always being more than willing to serve others and his community, regardless of danger, never failed to amaze her. 

When they became an item, his whole community took her in. It was a sincere group of people consisted of his grandmother, his colleagues, and the elderly at the senior center where he volunteered. Rafael also frequently hung out with Heather's friends. Sienna, Elijah, Aurora and even Jackie were nothing but supportive of their relationship. 

Snapping out of her head space with a gentle nudge from Rafael, they began to leave the front steps of Edenbrook. They hadn't walked far when a familiar voice calling her name stopped them in their tracks. 

'Heather. Dr. Heather Song!"

Both turning around, they saw a tall man approaching them hurriedly. She had to raise her head to gaze at him as he neared.

"ADA Lahela," she saluted him in a greeting. She gave him a polite smile, letting Rafael go briefly to shake the hand of the man in the gray suit. "To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?"

"Something very urgent. I wouldn't spoil your RnR, but this really can't wait until tomorrow." Bryce Lahela, the rising star of the Boston's District Attorney's office, nodded back at Raf, catching his breathe.  "Ah, Agent Aveiro, hi. I believe this also very much concerns you." he also waved at Rafael, a hint of unsteadiness in his voice. 

She tried to recall the last time she saw Bryce. It was 3 months ago, on the last day of the trial of Travis Perry. The fierce young lawyer eagerly took on the case of Senator Farrugia, who single-handedly put Perry behind bars for the rest of his life. 

Her head perked a little, sensing the quick falter in the young prosecutor's greeting. She waved off his apology, expressing she didn't mind the intrusion. She trusted him enough to make the judgment that this couldn't wait. They were friends after all. 

"There's been a new development in the Ed Farrugia case," the assistant district attorney clutched his leather shoulder bag and pulled out a peculiar looking paper.  "Someone sent a blank message to my office email address an hour ago, it included this file attachment," he handed the page to Heather, a look of concern crossing his face. 

Beside her, Raf tensed.

The black and white printout, with words spelled from cutouts of magazines, knotted Heather's stomach in a million ways. 

It's not over, Dr. Song.

The sinister note made her skin crawl, unleashing a wave of terror within her. 

She immediately knew right then that the mirage of her quiet life threatened to crumble. She just didn't know how much. 

Tagging also @choicesficwriterscreations for #fics of the week.

Chapter 1 to be posted tomorrow.

[vhenadahls]

bend but never break

Rory Stern, a civilian contractor on the Normandy, has her physical examination from Dr. Chakwas. The doctor takes one look at her chronic pain and gives her the first answers she’s had in seven years.

G, 2100 words.

(This is a fictionalized account of my own getting diagnosed with hypermobility spectrum disorder!)

Rory steps through the airlock, breathing in the familiar recycled air of the Normandy’s CIC. It hasn’t been long since she’s been on the ship - she was here just last week, doing the final pre-shakedown calibration of the drive core’s integration with the cooling system - but she wasn’t carrying a duffle bag then. And there were people at various stations around the CIC, but not like this. A lot more swearing at code, then, compared to the current introductions and shouts to old friends and salutes. Not everyone who’s going to be on the shakedown cruise is on the ship now, either, but it’s certainly got a different feel than it did with a bunch of nerds in coke-bottle glasses just like hers.

Those glasses slide down her nose a bit, and she smiles. Okay, everyone else’s weren’t bright blue, but still.

She steps aside to let someone in uniform with a cart full of supplies past, then heads purposefully down the center aisle. She’ll know his name eventually, and the thought of knowing everyone on a ship again sends a thrill down her spine. The galaxy map isn’t turned on, of course, but she still looks over as if it might be before heading down the stairs. Her right hip twinges as she walks down, and she huffs in frustration when she’s on level ground again. Already acting up, apparently. Maybe it’ll prefer artificial gravity the way she does, but she’s not hopeful.

The elevator, still just as slow and irritating as before, takes her down to the crew deck, and she finds the bunk she’s been assigned. Someone else will be sharing with her, of course, but there’s a footlocker just for her, and she’s able to fit her few belongings into it. The familiar lack of creature comforts and even personal space is a friendly reminder that she’s on a ship again. She’s been planetside far too long.

Once her things are packed away neatly, her next stop is the med bay. Other people are bustling around and familiarizing themselves with the ship’s layout - no one wants to get lost during shakedown - but she’s been here for years working on interfacing the Tantalus drive core with standard (and not-so-standard) Alliance tech. And that means skipping that step, and getting her introduction to the ship’s doctor over with.

Sighing again, she takes the elevator back up, mulling over what to say. I’ve had chronic pain in my shoulders for seven years, it’s been appearing in other joints, they always say it’s unrelated. She snorts. There’s not a snowball’s chance in hell that this military doctor with a battalion of marines to take care of is going to take a second glance at the achy civilian engineer.

The mess hall is a bustle of activity, with marines stocking their gear lockers and crew members squaring away food, medical supplies, and other necessities. Rory weaves her way through the chaos towards the med bay. It smells clean and sterile, even more so than the rest of the ship. A woman with chin-length grey hair leans over the desk to the left of the door. She looks up when the door slides open, giving Rory one of those bland doctor smiles.

“Hello,” she says, reaching out a hand to shake. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Dr. Chakwas. You are…?”

“I’m Rory Stern.” Rory shifts from foot to foot after shaking the proffered hand, trying not to belie that her hip is bothering her. “I’m a civilian, one of the engineers who’s worked on the Normandy the whole way through.”

Nodding, the doctor turns back to her desk, swiping a finger over her datapad. “Ah yes, I remember that name. I believe I was looking at your medical record earlier…” she trails off, focusing on what’s on the datapad. She gives it a decisive tap. “Yes, I remember now. It says here you’ve been suffering from chronic pain in your shoulders for about seven years now, and your hips and knees for some of that time?”

Sighing inwardly, Rory nods. Yet another doctor who’s just going to treat the description in her file of years-long pain as just a random note. Another doctor who’s going to be less likely to treat her properly. She tries not to get lost in memories of the string of physical therapists acting like she doesn’t want to get better, trying not to hope that Dr. Chakwas will be any different.

Dr. Chakwas is talking again, so Rory drags her attention back to the present. She studies the way the cabinets are built into the wall to avoid looking the doctor in the face. “We’ll definitely take a look at that. But first I have to do the standard physical exam, which I’m guessing is why you’re here?”

Rory nods again.

“Hop on up on this bed here, then.”

The doctor goes through the standard physical health checks - vitals like blood pressure, heart rate, weight, height. But after that, and after recording all that data into her datapad, she sits back on her stool with the pad and a stylus poised as if to take notes. “So your file has some descriptions of your pain, but I’d like to hear it from you and see how it compares to this.”

“Okay.” Scrolling back through her memories, Rory tries not to roll her eyes. Thirty-one years in this body, seven with the pain, and barely anyone listening. The one doctor on a ship of soldiers isn’t going to care about the chronic pain of a random civilian any more than anyone else is.

“My first year of grad school, towards the end, I started having issues with my left shoulder.” The words spark a sliver of pain in the shoulder, almost like a sense memory. She rolls first that shoulder, then the other to prevent them feeling uneven. Her neck complains, but she tries to stretch it more surreptitiously. “I figured it was just weak from sitting poorly at a computer console all the time. I tried to sit better or prop it up. Didn’t help. I finally got some physical therapy and exercises that seemed to help, but the way the school health system worked I couldn’t keep going. The pain was fine for a while, but it comes and goes, moreso if I do stuff like carry bags with that arm. I went to a chiropractor for a bit, and they did some sort of nerve test? I never really understood the results from that. But I kept getting bounced around between physical therapists and stuff. I don’t remember when it got as bad as it is now, but I can’t wear a messenger bag, or stand for long, or lie on that side for long.”

Dr. Chakwas is nodding along, sometimes scribbling new notes on her datapad and sometimes crossing something out. Rory squints, trying to make out whether she’s crossing out her own notes or old notes from previous doctors.

“My hip is more recent. And my back, I guess, I can’t quite tell. That’s been maybe two years, and often affects my right knee I think? Sometimes my hip feels like it catches when I walk. I did physical therapy for a little while for that, but it didn’t seem to be helping. And sometimes my elbows and hands hurt, and maybe my wrists? I haven’t really had much physical therapy or anything for any of those, though. It hasn’t felt worthwhile, because I’ve been trying therapy for the other pain and not really gotten anywhere.” It all comes out in a rush, and when she finishes she realizes she’s massaging her right wrist. Her instinct is to stop, to move her hands apart and put them in her lap, but she lets herself continue. Maybe the self-comforting motion will endear her to Dr. Chakwas.

A minute passes without words, the only sound the doctor’s stylus on the datapad. Eventually she looks up, tapping the stylus against her chin thoughtfully. “You mentioned a nerve test. Have you had other tests done?”

“Hmm, let me think.” She squints in thought. “I’ve had a lot of blood tests done for various things, but I’m not sure anything was for this. Or maybe there was, and there was one positive value but it wasn’t indicative of anything? And I think there was an MRI once. But everything seems to have come back normal.” There definitely was an MRI, but you couldn’t pay her to remember what it had been for. And it’s not like any of the tests had helped.

More tapping, then Dr. Chakwas puts her datapad back on her desk. “Okay. I have a thought, and I’d like you to do a few quick movements for me.” She reaches out one hand, bends her wrist down, and presses her thumb back towards her forearm. It’s about two or three inches away. “Can you do that? As far as you can.”

Rory does, sticking her right arm out in front of her and pushing the thumb back until it touches her forearm.

“And the other hand?”

She does, touching the two together again, wondering what this has to do with anything.

There’s what looks like the beginning of a smile on Dr. Chakwas’s face now. She picks the datapad back up. “Extend your left elbow for me, all the way, then the other, out to the sides. As far as you can again.”

One after the other, she stretches her arms out to her sides.

“One last thing. Can you put your palms flat on the floor when you bend over, with your legs straight?”

Bending over, Rory flattens her palms on the ground. “Wait,” she says, tilting her head to look up at the doctor. “Are my knees straight already? I can’t do it if I push them back any further, to lock them.”

“No, you’re fine.” She takes another note on the datapad. “You can stand up now, and sit back on the bed if you like.”

Climbing back onto the bed, Rory has a brief moment of embarrassment realizing she’s using her hands to support at times when it seems her core muscles should be able to handle it. But once she gets settled, she looks back up at Dr. Chakwas - trying to keep herself from getting too hopeful that these weird new tests will say something, trying not to get too cynical.

“Do you know what double-jointed means?”

There’s a twinge in her right hip, so Rory shifts to sitting cross-legged on the bed before answering. “It means there’s more of a range of motion in a joint than normal, right?”

“Yes, that’s it.” That’s definitely a smile on her face now. “You’re hypermobile. Double-jointed. Your ligaments and tendons are looser than normal, so you’re prone to overuse injuries, especially when your muscles are weak. With pain, it’s hypermobility spectrum disorder.”

“What?” Rory’s mouth drops open in shock. She’s certainly sitting up straighter now, leaning forward to listen.

Laughing lightly, Dr. Chakwas nods again. “Your joints like to move a lot. You might’ve gotten frequent sprains as a child, or felt more flexible than others. But now you’ve got so much pain going on, and we need to start working on building your strength up. There’s a physical therapist here on the Normandy -”

Rory wilts. It’s not even worth trying to hide it. Dr. Chakwas notices immediately.

“I know you haven’t had great luck with physical therapy before, but please try this. His name is Sergeant Patrick Travers. He’s used to working with stubborn marines who think they’re invincible - and our very stubborn pilot - so you’ll be a nice change of pace for him. You can usually find him in the gym on the crew deck. Should I send him a message that you’ll be along to see him?”

The doctor sure is pushy, but it’s not for nothing. Rory muses over that word hypermobile before nodding. “Yeah, I’ll try it.” Maybe she even will. She’s got a lot of research to do first.

“Great.” Dr. Chakwas slides her stool back towards her desk. “That’s all I need from you now, I think. Do you have any questions for me?”

“I think I’m good for now.” Rory hops down off the bed. “But I’ll swing back by if there’s anything else I think of that I need some help with.”

“That works. Please do see the physical therapist, Ms. Stern, I think you will find it valuable.”

Rory doesn’t answer that, but when she gets to the door and it hisses open, she turns back. “Thank you, Dr. Chakwas. Thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome, Ms. Stern.”

[crunchyfaerie]

Trigger warning: Emetophobia.

I want to be brave.

I have emetophobia and I’ve had it for 20 years or more.

The fear of vomiting is disabling.

I want to start a family but I am just so terrified that pregnancy or labour will make me sick.

I guess if I had to describe why it scares me, it’s so overwhelming and uncontrollable. It burns and hurts, it’s disgusting and sometimes sudden. The feeling of anxiety and dread right beforehand. I feel like I will choke to death if I throw up, and I used to tell myself that my full reality and future will change and end if I throw up. That if I let myself be sick, it will never stop and that’s how I will die.

I guess I associate it with having a stomach bug as a child where I didn’t stop throwing up for hours. I’ve never had this happen again. I also think of the time where I woke up in the night with food poisoning at someone’s house which is my worst nightmare.

And I guess the part where I feel like it will never stop might be linked to a period of my childhood where the phobia first occurred. I had been going through family trauma for a few years involving my dad going bankrupt, my parents yelling at each other a lot, both of them treating me emotionally abusively and I had been through experiences at school where teachers had force fed me to the point of feeling panicky, trapped and sick. (totally different times and people, same traumatizing situation)

I had also watched my mum go in and out of hospital surgery from a disease and no one told me that it wasn’t life threatening, just horrible and painful (endo) they let me believe she was dying so many times. I had developed a very bad case of depression and anxiety by age 7 and had to be taken out of school permanently. About six months later, I got a really bad virus and while that didn’t last too long, maybe a week, it was around then that I started feeling off.

It was the night of my eighth birthday party after my friends went home, I remember reflecting on the day and then suddenly I just collapsed in bed, I had a headache and was convinced I had a fever. I just wanted to curl up and die. I felt super sick and stayed mostly in bed for months. My mind was really fuzzy and I shook every night in fear and got all clammy. I slowly associated this feeling and routine with trying to prevent myself from being sick, even though I wasn’t fully sure if I actually felt nauseas or not.

I could get up in the morning when everyone was still asleep. I made breakfast and watched cartoons. I read books. I went down to the computer room and played Neopets alone in the silence for hours. Then at about 10am, my mum would wake up and direct me to complete my school work which I finished by 1pm. I really enjoyed my education. By the afternoon though, I started to feel it. The heaviness, the tiredness. The anxiety and nausea. By about 5pm I got into bed and just lay there and stared at the wall. Shaking. Uncontrollably. Being clammy and feeling like I had a fever. Telling my mum I was sick because I felt sick. But I think I partly just desperately wanted to hide away and not have to see anyone. But as a child this presented itself in shaking and feeling scared of being sick. I kept staring at that wall and I didn’t eat dinner. Every night for almost two years until I met my best friend and something about going to her house which was quiet and calm, slowly made me able to eat dinner again and get back to normal.

But those years my gosh. I lost so much weight. I was miserable. I didn’t have friends because I started to realize that my friends kind of sucked, they ganged up on me and didn’t actually like me. They thought I was weird and blatantly bitched about me behind my back.

After so many hospital, doctors and specialist appointments myself, I was diagnosed with depression by a psychologist and my mum was offended and asked me “you’re not depressed, are you?” In disbelief as we walked out into the car park. I was terrified of what that meant and thought if I had whatever that is, that I would be a bad daughter. So I reassured her and told her that I’m a super happy girl so of course I don’t have depression! Eventually otherwise I got diagnosed with with a case of chronic fatigue/post viral syndrome. I know I did have this, but I also know it certainly wasn’t the only thing and it didn’t explain that night on my birthday. It never made me throw up, it just made me a bit nauseas and like super super tired and sore.

In fact, I didn’t throw up for another seven years until I ate a whole bunch of fatty food on one evening and it just came out again I guess, but I felt on top of the world the next morning when I faced my fear. I felt so good. Until like a day later when the fear came back. Same thing happened when I got drunk at 19 when I moved out and was very sick. I felt like an amazing super hero until a day later when my fear came back. These days it’s faded but still there. I eat extremely healthy to avoid feeling sick and I’m happy with that as a whole, but anything like the thought of pregnancy or kids or viruses absolutely terrify me.

Like, catatonic scared.

[differentnutpeace]

Once On The Brink Of Eradication, Syphilis is Raging Again

In certain circles of San Francisco, a case of syphilis can be as common and casual as catching the flu, to the point where Billy Lemon can't even remember how many times he's had it.  หวย บอล เกมส์ คาสิโนออนไลน์

"Three or four? Five times in my life?" he struggles to recall. "It does not seem like a big deal."

At the time, about a decade ago, Lemon went on frequent methamphetamine binges, kicking his libido into overdrive and silencing the voice in his head that said condoms would be a wise choice at a raging sex party.

"It lowers your inhibitions, and also your decision making abilities are skewed," says Lemon.

He's sober now and runs the Castro Country Club in San Francisco, which is not a resort, but a place where gay men come to get help with addiction, especially meth. Lemon says syphilis comes with the territory.

"In the 12-step community, if meth was your thing, everybody had syphilis," he says.

In 2000, syphilis rates were so low, public health officials believed eradication was on the horizon. But the rates started creeping up in 2001, grew steadily for the next two decades, then spiked 74% since 2015. There were nearly 130,000 cases nationwide in 2019, according to data released Tuesday by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

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In California and the US, about half of syphilis cases are in men who have sex with men. More than a third of women in the western United States who have syphilis also use meth, a drug that has seen its own surge in recent years.

These are just some of the trends causing overall national cases of sexually transmitted diseases to hit an all-time high for the last six years in a row, reaching 2.5 million. And the consequences are now trickling down to babies who are contracting syphilis from their mothers: these congenital syphilis rates nearly quadrupled between 2012 and 2019.

This was all before the coronavirus pandemic took hold in the US, and with contact tracers and testing supplies diverted from STDs to COVID, the CDC is predicting 2020 numbers will be no better.

"We are quite worried about this and have seen this trend over time," says Dr. Erica Pan, California's state epidemiologist. "Unfortunately, with years of not having enough funding and infrastructure in public health, and then in this past year, of course, both at the local and state level, a lot of personnel who had been focusing on STDs and syphilis follow-up have really been redirected to the pandemic."

Billy Lemon is executive director of the Castro Country Club in San Francisco, where gay men can get help with addiction. Lemon says that when it comes to methamphetamine use in particular, syphilis often comes with the territory.

Beth LaBerge/KQED

A number of factors are fueling the syphilis surge

There are many factors that contribute to the rise of STDs, and syphilis in particular.

In the gay community in San Francisco, for example, the rise of mobile dating apps like Grindr and Tinder made finding a date "faster than getting pizza delivered to your home," says Dan Wohlfeiler, an STD prevention specialist and co-founder of Building Healthy Online Communities, which uses these apps to improve gay men's health.

When the dating apps first came on the scene around 2009, they made it harder for disease investigators to track the spread of STDs and notify people who may have been infected, because men don't always know the names of the men they hook up with.

"They sometimes only know their online handle," says Dr. Ina Park, associate professor at UCSF School of Medicine and author of the book Strange Bedfellows, about the history of STDs. "And if the sex didn't go well, then sometimes they will block the person from their app and they don't even know how to reach that person again."

Online dating began back in the late 1990s, which was around the same time effective medications to prevent the transmission of HIV became available: first, antiretrovirals that suppress the virus in those who are HIV positive, and then later, in 2012, pre-exposure prophylaxis, or PreP, which prevents new infections in people who are HIV negative, but considered at-risk for exposure to the virus.

With the risk of contracting a deadly disease falling to almost zero, condoms fell even more out of favor than they already were, says Park.

"If one man is taking PreP and the other one is virally suppressed, there's no HIV risk at all," she says. "So why use condoms if you don't mind having a touch of syphilis?"

Diagnosing syphilis is tricky

While syphilis is not benign – it can cause blindness, deafness, or brain damage – it is easy to treat. Typically, a shot of penicillin in the butt will cure it.

But diagnosing syphilis can be tricky, says Park, who treats patients with STDs at the San Francisco City Clinic. She often finds herself crouched low in the exam room, "lifting up their scrotum and lifting up their penis," craning her head to get a look from all angles.

She does these gymnastics to find rashes associated with syphilis. Some are obvious, others subtle. She says doctors in regular family medicine clinics often aren't trained on where to look, or when.

"The patient came in saying, 'I'm tired,'" Park says, referring to a common symptom of syphilis. "How many people are going to say, 'Take off your pants and lift up your scrotum, I want to look? We only do that at the STD clinic because that's what we do."

But specialized public STD clinics, like the one where Park works, have been shutting down nationwide. One reason is persistent underfunding of public health programs, a trend laid bare during the coronavirus pandemic. Another reason is the Affordable Care Act. In a strange way, the 2010 law intended to expand access to health care actually contributed to the closure of STD clinics.

"Honestly, I think everyone thought they weren't going to be necessary," said Dr. Karen Smith in 2019, when she was the director of the California Department of Public Health. She says once Obamacare was in place, the thought was that STD testing would happen in primary care clinics.

"We sort of all assumed that if you've got health insurance and you've got access to a doctor, that's all that you need," she said. "It turns out that that's not really all that you need."

People still had affairs that they didn't want to talk about with their family doctor. And some family doctors didn't want to probe into their patients' sex lives. Young people, in particular, prefer clinics geared to them, out of their parents' purview.

"That loss of anonymous care really was a problem," Smith said.

The spread of syphilis is reaching newborns, too

When Christian Faulkenberry-Miranda decided to become a pediatrician, she never thought she'd become an expert in syphilis.

In 2010, shortly after finishing her medical training and starting work at the Community Regional Medical Center in Fresno, California, she began seeing babies with a rash on their tummies that looks like a blueberry muffin. At first she thought it was a common viral infection, until these babies tested positive for syphilis.

In those early days, Dr. Faulkenberry-Miranda saw perhaps a few instances of congenital syphilis each year. Now she sees two cases every week. It's important to start the 10-day antibiotic treatment right away, to avoid complications, but she still follows her patients through their first year of life, and often through their childhood, to watch for vision and hearing problems, developmental delays, attention deficits, and learning disabilities, all of which can result from congenital syphilis infections. In 2019, 128 of these congenital syphilis cases resulted in stillbirth or neonatal death.

"The disappointing thing is that syphilis is very treatable," she says. "This is something that's completely preventable, with proper screening and treatment of these moms during pregnancy."

Congenital syphilis cases hit a troubling milestone in 2019, increasing 279% over the previous five years, and hitting a high of cases in the U.S. That is more mother-to-child transmissions of syphilis than there were at the peak of mother-to-child cases of HIV in 1991.

"How could this be happening? Testing is cheap and widely available. The same treatment we've been using since the forties still works," says Dr. Park, who has also seen an increase in congenital syphilis cases in San Francisco. "And yet we have this completely out of control epidemic among the most vulnerable babies in our society."

Many of the women who give birth to babies with syphilis have had no prenatal care. They often use drugs – mainly methamphetamine – and they are often homeless, said Dr. Karen Smith, former director of CDPH. This makes them more likely to trade sex for housing, food, or drugs, prompting Smith to call congenital syphilis a "disease of despair." Drug use, in particular, makes women less likely to recognize that they're pregnant at all, and less likely to seek health care if they do.

"They're very concerned about what's going to happen when they're found to be pregnant and using drugs," said Dr. Smith. "They're concerned that their drug use will be reported and then CPS will be involved and their children will be taken away."

Romni Neiman is a veteran contact tracer with the CDC. Before she got redirected to COVID last year, she was working on STD prevention in California, including the problem of congenital syphilis. Neiman says when she tries to reach pregnant women who may have been exposed to syphilis, it's extremely challenging.

Neiman remembers looking for one woman in the late 80s in Chicago. She used drugs, was pregnant and had been exposed to syphilis. The woman's housing was so unstable, that Neiman went to three different places before finding her. The woman had no car, so Neiman offered to drive her to the clinic to get tested. The woman had no safe place to leave her toddler, because a man in the place she was staying was abusive, so Neiman took care of the child while the woman saw the doctor.

"She was just trying to do the best that she can, and she was really afraid," Neiman remembers. "Sometimes it's really taxing and really sad. And you come home at the end of the day and you're like, 'Wow. Wow.'"

Those challenges, combined with persistent underfunding for public health, is what led to the initial spike in congenital syphilis cases in Fresno County in the 2010s, says Park. Local contact tracers couldn't keep up, and the state had to step in with reinforcements. After leveling off for a couple years, congenital syphilis rates in Fresno spiked 900% in 2018.

The state is taking new measures to address the rates, says state epidemiologist Dr. Erica Pan, like requiring women to be screened for syphilis twice during pregnancy, instead of just once. And, rather than waiting for women to come in for prenatal care, the state is doing more outreach, and screening pregnant women in the emergency room, and in prisons and jails.

Dr. Pan believes the coronavirus pandemic has created an opportunity to invest in a more nimble response to emerging and re-emerging public health issues, like syphilis and congenital syphilis.

"It's been a really long, hard year responding to this pandemic, but people have really acknowledged and realized the impact of divesting in public health infrastructure," she said. "I hope that a lot of the resources that we hope to bring to bear in the longer term after this pandemic will benefit STDs as well."

[xiolaperry]

Four Ways Gaston Could Have Died (And the One Way He Actually Did) - Chapter 5

Chapter Notes:  Somehow, this chapter veered away from being simply a Gaston “death” and ended up turning into a Colonel Ives backstory. For those of you who have not seen the movie "Ravenous", I highly recommend it. It is a surprisingly funny dark comedy horror story, and Robert Carlyle is amazing in it (as always).

---

Francis Ives had not expected to discover he had a half brother when he attended his father's funeral.

He hadn't seen his father in years (and was better off for it) when a solicitor contacted him to inform him of his death. Malcolm had somehow gotten rich before he died, and the will stipulated attendance of the funeral for access to the funds.

Tempted though he was not to comply with the demand, the money would be welcome. He had recently been diagnosed with tuberculosis and wanted to visit America to see if the doctors there could help him. Therefore, he made plans to attend. His miserable excuse for a father owed him a chance to live.

The church was empty. Every movement was magnified and echoed through the cavernous space. The only ones in attendance were the solicitor, who had to be there, the minister, who doubtless had never laid eyes on Malcolm Gold in his life, and a pair of drunken old men. Ives wondered if they’d been bribed, too.

The minister waited a few minutes past the time to begin, hoping in vain for additional mourners to fill the empty seats. He'd just cleared his throat and begun to speak when a well-dressed man entered. A beautiful woman and a little girl followed him. They sat down and the man, a fierce scowl on this face, gestured with impatience to the minister to continue.

Ives watched them from the corners of his eyes, wondering who they could be. Forced into attendance like him, no doubt. Malcolm Gold was not the type to make friends.

Unnoticed, he studied the older man. His longish hair was silver at the temples, and he kept running his hand through it and looked annoyed. He walked with a cane, but there was no air of weakness about him.

Ives assumed the woman was his wife. She looked young enough to be his daughter, but the way she put her hand on his thigh to stop his leg from bouncing with impatience was not at all daughterly. And even from a distance, he could see love and concern radiating from striking blue eyes that he'd not soon forget.

The little girl fidgeted and looked as though she'd rather be anywhere than here. Ives couldn't blame her, he felt the same way. She winked when she caught him looking, and he smiled.

After the service, he went straight to the family and introduced himself. “Francis Ives,” he said, extending his hand.

“Mr. Gold,“ the older man answered, returning the handshake.

Gold? Ives's mind reeled at the surname, and the resemblance he now noticed. He heard nothing else of the introductions, and he realized he must look odd, standing there frozen in shock with his hand still out.

“Please forgive me, I didn't catch the names of your wife and daughter; yours distracted me. Your name is Gold, as in a relation of Malcolm Gold?”

“Yes. Unfortunately, that bastard was my father.”

“Mine too!” he blurted out before he could think of a more delicate way to say it.

The family stared at Ives, speechless.

The little girl recovered first. “Does this mean you're my uncle? Papa, do you have any other brothers and sisters? My name is Tilly, can I call you Uncle Ives?”

When she paused to take a breath, her mother pulled her a short distance away to give the men a moment to process the revelation. Her hands fluttered about, making signs, and Tilly responded in kind. Mute, he thought.

Mr. Gold asked, “Malcolm was your father? But you said your name was Ives?”

“I took my mother's name. I wanted nothing that would connect me to that man.”

“Ah. I didn't have that luxury. Didn't even know my mother.”

The solicitor interrupted. “Good, I see you've met each other. If you'd be so kind as to follow me, the minister has allowed us to use his back office for the reading of the will. You can continue the family reunion there.”

“Whatever gets this over with the fastest.” Gold waved his hand for his family to follow him. Tilly, a bit more subdued but still grinning, skipped ahead. Gold's wife gave him a quick hug and then they continued on.

The reading was brief. Malcolm had made a few big gambling winnings shortly before his death, and his sudden demise prevented him from squandering it all. It was to be divided equally between his two known children, Francis and Labhrainn.

“Thank God there aren't more of us running around,” muttered Gold, who received an elbow to the ribs from his wife for the comment.

Finding the idea of a brother intriguing, Ives hoped to continue the conversation with Mr. Gold. But as soon as the information on the distribution of Malcolm's assets was finished, Mr. Gold stood up, said a curt goodbye, and headed for the door.

His wife stopped him. Her gloved hands flew as she signed, although one did not seem to move quite like the other. Ives watched Gold's face change from hard and impatient to soft and indulgent during her 'discourse.' Tilly chimed in with “Please, Papa?” and an imploring look. Gold sighed.

“Belle insists that you accompany us home for a meal so she can get to know you better.”

Belle poked her husband, and he amended, “We would both like you to come, you are my half-brother, after all.”

She beamed at Ives, and he wondered how his brother had gotten such a beauty. At his hesitation, Tilly said, “Please come. You can meet my cat. I brought her all the way from New Zealand.”

“How can I turn down such an invitation? I would be honored to meet your cat.”

Belle was a wonderful hostess, and Tilly's smile lit up the room. Her endless chatter at the dinner table made him laugh more that night than he had in months. Gold (who asked him to please not call him Labhrainn) was not as surly as he first appeared and warmed up to him over the course of the meal.

After they sent Tilly to bed, Ives and Gold spent a pleasant evening comparing stories of their upbringing and tales of their youth over glasses of whiskey. Ives told him of his plan to travel to America in hope of a cure for his tuberculosis.

Gold's tales of his time in New Zealand were fascinating, but his mood darkened when he spoke of Gaston Legume and the cause of his return to Scotland. When Belle removed her glove to show him the wooden finger Gold had crafted for her, Ives shook his head with disbelief. What kind of man would hurt a woman like that?

Sensing her husband's distress over the memories the conversation had brought up, she kissed him. The tender moment embarrassed Ives, and he looked away.

They talked until the early morning. After saying their goodbyes, and offering their best wishes for his health and recovery, Gold surprised him by asking him to keep in touch. “I'm learning to write,” he explained. “The letters will be good practice.”

The half-brothers struck up an enjoyable correspondence. Ives looked forward to Gold's letters, which included notes from Belle and Tilly. He would not have believed you could come to love someone through the mail, but he did. He loved his newfound family. They were the only bright spots in his life as he got sicker and weaker, and the illness turned him bitter and desperate.

The doctors in America were no better than the ones in Scotland. Depressed and discouraged, his thoughts turned dark. Every breath was a struggle, resulting in him coughing up a pint of blood. There was nothing left to be done. He decided to check himself into a sanatorium to convalesce, more than likely to die.

He took his time on the journey, telling himself he was traveling at such a slow pace because he was enjoying the scenery, not because he was too weak to press onward. Then one afternoon, he met an Indian scout.

The scout insisted on building a campfire for them both, and Ives shared his meal with him. The campfire danced, flickering patterns of light and dark across their faces.

He watched the robust, healthy man just sit there, taking his good health for granted. The Indian enjoyed smoking his pipe, drawing breath without pain, not coughing and choking on his own blood. He observed this with such jealousy that it made his soul ache. Ives wanted to live.

It wasn't fair that his disgusting reprobate of a father got to have a long life. It wasn't fair that he was here, dying, thousands of miles away from a family he had gotten to know so late in life. The night was clear, and he leaned back, looking at the cold stars that cared not for his suffering.

The scout told stories to pass the time, and one in particular caught his attention: The Wendigo. A man eats the flesh of another, absorbing his strength, his spirit. As the man spoke, Ives felt a cold darkness fill him. Could the tale be true? He had to try; it was his last chance. Perhaps it was a manifestation of Malcolm's selfishness, the trait showing up in his nature here at the end. He would do anything to keep from dying.

He killed the man as he slept and roasted him over the campfire he'd built. The smell was mouthwatering, and the taste, divine. The Indian scout was absolutely right. He grew stronger and had no regrets.

A stolen uniform completed his reinvention of himself. “Colonel Ives” sounded impressive and powerful, matching the strength he now felt inside. But what to do next? He was hungry. The meat he'd saved from the Indian did not last long, no matter how hard he'd tried to ration it.

An answer came in the form of a wagon train headed West. The small group welcomed having a Colonel join them as a guide. A few small manipulations of their circumstances allowed him to eat them that winter, and come spring he was a new man, happy and healthy. Tuberculosis? Vanished. As did the black thoughts.

His only regret was that the meat hadn't lasted longer. But the more he ate, the more he wanted. So he continued on.

Ives wanted to share his good fortune, build his own small family. Alas, Boyd and Colonel Hart were a disappointment. He left Fort Spencer, deciding it was better to keep moving and see the world.

He never wrote to Gold again. He missed the connection to his family, and he’d compose letters to them in his mind. But they remained unwritten. A voice inside told him he was not who he had been; that he never would be again. The voice sometimes begged him to reconsider his course. Whenever it spoke up, he squashed it down firmly. It was too late. The hunger was insatiable.

One day, he was talking to some sailors who mentioned their ship was bound for New Zealand. An idea formed in his mind, a way to thank Gold and his family for their encouragement and kindness during his difficult time. He booked passage on the spot.

And now here he was, in New Zealand, sitting in a tavern, watching Gaston Legume from across the room.

He must be cautious. Ives no longer cared about collateral damage as a general rule. Disposing of witnesses just meant more provisions for him. However, some of these people were Gold and Belle's friends. Punishing Gaston should not come at their expense.

Calqhoun is the name he gives in case Belle or Gold kept in touch with anyone. He slides into character with ease. People found the mild-mannered man of god forgettable, which is his intention.

As he enjoys David Nolan's company, he thinks that he'd like to find a place for himself. Sometimes it was lonely being a cannibal. Tough making friends.

So he sat, nondescript, and made conversation with David. The man was friendly and not overly bright, which was exactly the combination he was looking for. In the space of an evening, he learned all he needed to know about Gaston: where he lived, his habits, and his associates.

The next day Ives set up camp in a remote part of the jungle. Gaston's disappearance must not coincide with his passing through. His stores depleted, he hunts, and finds the locals to his taste. He bides his time.

He considered grabbing Gaston from his bed, but it seemed rather anticlimactic. This man had hurt his family, the only people he loved in this world. And for that, he deserved to suffer.

First, he moved things around to set Gaston off balance. His shoes while he slept. His tools. He left the barn doors open and stole his axe.

Gaston ranted to his aunt that someone was playing tricks on him. The scowl never left his face, and he accused everyone he met of being the culprit.

Ives escalated his campaign. He left sheet music in the barn, a book on the bedside table. He hung one of Tilly's drawings in the kitchen and left a woman's dress on the clothesline. A piano key was placed in his saddlebag. Now Gaston crossed from being angry to afraid.

The axe, covered in blood, was the perfect sight to greet him for his last morning on earth. It was lodged in the kitchen table and covered with gore. Ives watched from the shadows as Gaston staggered toward it, pale and shaken. He came up behind him and struck him in the head.

As Ives dragged Gaston through the jungle underbrush, he considered if he wanted to eat such a vile man. When they reached his camp, he told Gaston who he was. He describes exactly what he is going to do to him. Big, strong Gaston cries and begs. Ives starts by removing one finger and enjoying it as an appetizer.

He doesn't taste so bad after all.

“Calqhoun” drops by the little village before he leaves New Zealand. He talks to David Nolan again, who, with a bit of maneuvering, tells him all about the disappearance of Gaston. A bloody axe in the kitchen table was the only clue, and the entire village was stumped by the mystery. Cora is the only one who cares that he is missing.

His only regret is that he can't write to Gold and tell him all about the favor he has done for him. Papua New Guinea is the next stop. Perhaps he'll find some companions there.

[imagineswelcome]

Beauty and the Beast

Joker (Heath Ledger) x reader

Events take place during the 2nd Nolan movie, The Dark Knight.

Prompt : You meet the Joker, he kidnappes and you end up to take part of almost all his crimes. How did you come to that?

You’re Y/N L/N, a famous physicist in Gotham. You work for the Wayne Compagny on sustainable energy sources, you have a great job, a great flat in Gotham and basically a great life !

You wake up as every morning but you realise you already have receive a letter. You are invited to a party at the Wayne penthouse, yes, the billionaire burn his house to crisp, who does that ? Anyway. The party is a found raising for Harvey Dent. The name seams to ring a bell but you’re not sure.  But the party is this evening, you reaaaally need to do some shopping, fortunatly it’s Saturday and you’re not working. You go to your favorite shop and you find a black dress which seems to be made for you. It perfectly suits you and you look incredible. You already know that it will match perfectly your Louboutin heels you offered yourself for Christmas. You will be stunning even if you are not a billionnaire as probably all of the other guests.

The time has come. Party time. You don’t know what you expected but definitely not that : you’re « talking » with an annoying billionnaire who isn’t even listening to you and believe that the earth might be flat. As a physicist you have loads of strong points to prove him wrong but he is a rich white man who don’t care about what you have in your head since he likes what he sees. An helicopter sound saves you from this terrible conversation. It seems that Brune Wayne is really a drama queen, you believed he is brilliant but never thought he would be the kind to be late and showing off with three top-models. After a very little speech on Harvey Dent, the party start again, this time you rush to the barman to enjoy a well-deserved drink. This man was such a pain. You were enjoying your free drinks when a gunshot was heard. The terrorist from the TV has come out of the elevator and is asking for Harvey Dent. You don’t know why but you wanted to see the man, the Joker, with your own eyes so you come closer to the scene. Harvey Dent girlfriend has the courage to come to the Joker and to tell him that Dent isn’t here. But he starts to come closer to her with a knife. You don’t know why, maybe you has a sorority instinct, but you call out for the Joker, he turns back to you and Rachel kicks him. And everything went so fast. Batman was here and starts to fight the Joker men but the Joker grabs Rachel and throws her out of the window. Batman jumps to safe her. But if Batman just jumps, who stays to protect you ? Once the Batman jumped, the Joker comes directly for you. You are paralized, all the courage you had just vanished. He grabs your arm and says « You come with me, beautiful. » You try to fight but there is no way for you to escape the Joker and his men push you in the elevator and in their van. You’re being kidnapped, of course you left your phone on the bar and you have no way to call for help. After a long enough moment, the van stops. Someone opens the back door and you hear : « Hi. I’m the Joker. Nice to meet you Y/N. Very nice indeed. I’m following your work at Wayne Enterprises and I can say that I’m, uhm, very impressed to have you here with me. » You were expecting everything but that. The Joker is a fan of physic ? Moreover a fan of you ? You must have look surprised because he adds «  Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. I just want to talk to you. Let’s have dinner. » And you find yourself answering ackwardly « uhm, ok. »

And you actually spend a really good evening, the Joker is a gentleman, he likes quantum physic and to make jokes (as his name made you guess). But it seems to be too good to be true. He is a killer and as charming as he wants to be with you, he kidnapped you. He told you you needed to stay at his place for a few days, that he can’t bring you back just now. People will think you’re part of the plan but he doesn’t want you to get involved in all the chaos. He shows you an incredibly cosy bedroom, there were several outfits in the closet. Not that bad for a kidnapping. You spend three days in this mansion/warehouse : it was a warehouse, at least you believed since you never saw the outside but the inside was a mansion with staircase and rooms. It was simple decoration but the place in itself was curious in the good way. You could discover it even if there were guards at every entrance to prevent you from any kind of escape. Every evening you had dinner with the Joker, he never talked to you about his evil plans, never screamed at you. He was nice but it was wrong.

The fourth day, a bodyguard came to you and told you to go on a truck but like a big big truck, the ones that usually have huge cargots inside. The Joker was at the back with an arsenal and something that looked like a bazooka. You were on the passenger sit. The Joker told you that he had something to do before bringing you home. You understand that it is definitely something dangerous and illegal probably involving murder and explosion. Great. You’re in the same car as a murdering psychopath. You don’t seem to have been kidnapped. You hope that the GCPD will not think that you are an accomplice or something like that.

But it was only the beginning of your problems, the Joker just shot an officer so he can drive through a closed road and he is now targetting a GCPD van with the bazooka. Oh lord. Is it the Batman outside ? Damn. An helicopter just fell on the ground. This is chaos. Batman is charging the truck you’re in now. Did he miss ? Oh god, he did n…

You blacked out for a little and wake up, you seem to have been thrown through the windscreen. Every muscles and bones of your body hurt. Several pieces of glass have cut you. You try to stand up and you see the Batman on the ground, lying like a dead man on his back with the Joker on him. Suddently you feel someone grabbing your arms on your back. « You’re under arrest, you fucking cop killer ». He pushes you against the reversed truck and handcuff you. You’re incapable of saying something, everything hurts.

Once in the GCPD department, the not-so-kind officer take your prints and your belongings and threw you into an interrogation room. You try to explain several time that you really need to see a doctor, you are in so much pain but they aren’t listening to you. The female police officer in charge of your interrogation comes closer to you and press her finger on an open wound you have on you arm. « Now you talk. Tell me everything you know. » It hurts to much. Maybe the only way to make them call the doctor is to force them to make you see a doctor. Because they don’t care about what you have to say. The female officer is still close to you, since you’re sitting on a chair with only handcuff on you wrists, you rise up and block her neck with your handcuffs. « I. Want. A. Doctor. », you run out of the room with the officer as your hostage and head for a big place where there are a lot of people. They probably can get you a doctor. They are celebrating something or what ? Is it applause that you’re hearing ? You scream out of despair « I need to see a doctor ! » They all turn out to you and start reaching their guns. You repeat with a softer tone « I’m really injured, all of my body hurts, I really need to see a doctor, please. It was the only way for you to hear me. She wasn’t trying to help me, she hurted me even more. » As you were explaining the situation, you saw that the Joker was in the room too, behind bars. And his gaze was full of compassion and a bit of anger but it wasn’t because of you. It was because of the police-men. An officer with a mustache and glasses start to talk « It’s ok Miss, let her go, we will help you ». « I won’t let her go before I see the medic in this very room. I don’t believe you » was your answer. The officer order to bring the medic here. And you finally let the woman go. The medic bring you into a cell for more privacy and also because you were a suspect and you will probably not get out of the GCPD any time soon. The medic was actually pretty kind to you, he diagnosed a broken forearm, four broken ribs and several contusions all around your body but there may be more, he couldn’t tell exactly how broken you were without a radiography. He took care of your wounds and left you to sleep. He told you that you’ll go to the hospital tomorrow and that you should rest now. You almost instantly fell asleep.

You have been waken up by an explosion. You try to see something through the little window of your door but everything was dark. You sit on your bed, listening to everything, trying to understand what happened. A little after that, you heard footsteps and a key in the hole of your door. When the door opened, you realise that it is the Joker. You start with visible confusion « How… did you… ? » The Joker cut you « We don’t have much time. Come ». The Joker wasn’t alone, an other prisonner with handcuffs and several of this complices were there too.

The Joker let his men go with the prisonner and ask you how you were. You told him what the medic said. « You’re going to see my doctor » he said. With a stolen police car, you were now heading to where the Joker lived in town and see another doctor who, this time, could do some bandages for your broken arm.

The Joker actually lives in a mansion. Maybe he is a guy of simple taste but when he can, he choses comfort. He brings you food, clean clothes and show you a room where you can rest. You took a shower and inspect you body. You never have been this injured before. And you promess yourself that you will never be this injured expect if you chose to be in a dangerous situation. Noone will ever hurt you again. You’ll not let them. Even if they are the police. Even if they are supposed to do the good. What’s good ? Does this word still have a sense in this world ? The Joker is a bad guy but he was good to you, he respected you, was interrested in what you had to say, listened to you while the « good » policemen did not. The Joker may be a mad man but he could be very kind, and funny, and he sometimes makes sense. Deep sense. When he talks about the established order and all the hypocrisis of the world.

After all this thoughts, you decide to sleep and you sleeped for a whole day. Your body and your soul needed it. When you wake up, your first reflex is to turn on the TV to check the news. The Joker has blown up an hospital. But it was actually an empty hospital. Everyone has been evacuated before the explosion.

It was dark outside. You dressed up and went downstairs to find something to eat. You were starving. You were surprised to discover that you were alone in this house, no one was there to guard you, no one was here to stop you from getting outside. Incredible. You were free. Again ! And you made another promess to yourself, you’ll be free forever. When you arrived in the kitchen, you saw a note on the table. It was from the Joker :

« Dear Y/N,

I am sorry for all the trouble I caused you. I truly am. Tonight is the final act. We’ll probably never see each over again but I had a great time talking with. You are a truly amazing person. Never let anyone make you think you are not. You are capable of everything you want to accomplish.

Love.

J »

But. But. But you don’t want not to see him again. You realise that you actually care for him, that you want to know him, to talk to him. As a friend first but maybe you are ready for more.

You turn on the TV with the hope to find where the Joker is and to join him. And it worked. He is filmed fighting Batman. He’ll never win. You know it and you know he knows it. He must have an ace in the hole. You check on the internet where this tower is and it is very close from this house. You run  in the house to find where the arsenal is. There must be one. It has to. And you found it. There are all sort of guns and accessories. You check the infos again. The Joker is in the air upside down with one feet tied. You have to rescue him. Even if that means that you become a criminal. You want to do it therefore you have to. You’re looking for a huge safety net of something like that. The thing that is used in circus. He must have one. You are incredibly lucky because he actually does. You take it and walk as fast as you can to put it just under the Joker since this is pretty heavy. The SWAT is helping the hostages and arresting the accomplices. They don’t notice that you were installing a big net. You have also bring with you a kind of sniper. You never shot anything with a weapon like that but you have so notion of how to use a gun. You’re an american afterall and even with a broken arm you can use a weapon. After one missed shot, you manage to cut the wire which was holding the Joker. His fall seems to be eternal laugh. But the net does its job and you save him. You help him to get out. He seems surprised to see you. « Thank you Y/N. I am impressed. But for now take my hand and run.»

So you do and you both disappear in the darkness of Gotham small streets.

GIF not mine, credit to the owner.

[gone-to-fight-the-fairies]

Fault

Summary: Connor is devastated after a near-fatal wound hospitalizes you, and turns all blame on himself.

A/N: Work also posted on my dbh blog, @detroit-become-me​  

Pairing: Connor (RK 800) x reader

Word Count: 2k

Persistent beeping pestered you out of your dreams. You want to roll over, to evade the blaring, and go back to sleep. But something is tugging at your arm, and the strange sensation makes you more curious than you are exhausted. There's something else on the same side, but clutching your index finger. The more you stir, the sound seems harsher. The pitch bounces around your skull, around the room, like there's no furniture or objects to soften the racket.

Where are you?

Against the strain of exhaustion and how stiff your body's become, you push your lids back, eyes settling on an unfocused setting. Blurry vision prevails, but you can detect that the walls are white... and too bright.

"Don't worry." A voice so sincere coos. It's almost angelic yet... informative. "You're safe now."

Connor.  

Turning your head quickly makes you dizzy. But he's sitting right there beside you. You blink the blur away, focusing on the softness of his facial features, which you observe to be grimmer than usual. You didn't know an android could look so worn.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

You groan at the increasing pitch, but you refuse to take your eyes off of Connor; the only thing certain in an unknown environment. The corner of his mouth twitches, but there's a heaviness to his expression.

"Relax," he tells you, cupping a hand over yours. "The threat's been eliminated. No one can hurt you now. It's all over."

What was he talking about? The revolution succeeded. Markus won the equality for the androids while Connor and Hank prevented further corruption of Cyberlife. Markus' succession speech had started... Everything was on track towards improvement.

You glance around for clues and halt on the dark splotches on Connor's otherwise pristine jacket. It's dried and... crimson? Androids bleed blue-

"You were attacked..." When you glance up at his face his gaze shifts. "At the Celebration Speech. The shooter mistook you for an android." There are gaps between Connor's words, and his eyes shifted towards the door. "I need some... air."

For a man that didn't breathe? You reaching after him, but the same restraint holds you back, and you curse at the IV.  

"Here you go, girlie." Hank's rough voice calls out a moment after and serves as his form of knocking. An object flies through the air, and you catch it before the greasy package hits your face. You nod towards the Lieutenant, and he laughs. "See, you're going to be back to normal in no time."

Hank occupies the vacant seat Connor left, unwrapping his own food. "Hell, you gave us quite a scare." You're more curious about the events that occurred than what's in your hands.

You shift, sitting up. Though your side burns and it feels like you've been stabbed. You whimper, clutching your left side. Nauseous, you push your food away.

Hank's telling you to take it easy, but you're growing frustrated at the missing information and the pain doesn't help. "I don't even know what's wrong with me."

Hank furrows his brows, glancing up from his burger, delaying his bite. "Connor didn't tell you? He practically diagnosed you himself before any responders could get through the crowd. A clean shot to the side; broke two ribs in the process. Fuck, the doctor was oblivious that the bulled nicked your liver. Connor had to fight 'em to reconsider the original diagnosis, which, from what he says, would've made you bleed out."

There's a growing lump in your throat, but better than the anxiety of the unknown. "I guess we both have troubled livers now." Hank's laugh spits out part of his burger, making you to smile momentarily before you return to seriousness. "Connor did say that someone who hates androids did this-"

"Hated," Hank corrects, and you understand immediately. Something in your expression alternates what he says next. "And, yeah, sort of. It hated Deviants. Uh... maybe we should talk about this when you're feeling better."

It?

You aren't given the proper time to calculate the information as another voice interrupts and a figure enters the room. "The robot mentioned you were awake."

Was Connor willing to talk to the entire building before you?

"He's an android, doc," Hank grumbles, crossing his arms. It wasn't easy to let go of another's mistakes, but Hank clearly didn't think much of this doctor.  

The doctor ignores Hank, checking your charts. "Vitals are stable. How do you feel?" He directed towards you while looking at the papers on his clipboard. "Wait, you're not the one with appendicitis."

"No, she's the girl you almost killed yesterday-" Hank's standing up to square off with the man, but you reach forward, ignoring the pain to tug at your friend's sleeve. "Hank." You plead, and after a long moment, he curses and waits outside the room for the doctor to finish.

When the doctor left, Hank swore up a storm worse than the blizzard days before. "Didn't even suggest you stay away from this grub." Hank held up his half-eaten burger. "Connor's smart not to trust the doctors around here. Rely too much on androids to do their God damn jobs."

Hank wanders back to the chair, and picks up his burger to resume eating, but stays standing. He's watching you, knowing that something beyond your health is bothering you. "You know, Connor somehow got into your operating room, which is beyond me. Surprised he left in such a hurry just now."

"Maybe he just didn't want to be here."

The Lieutenant takes a bite, talking with his mouth full. "I know Connor just as well as I know Japanese, but I do know that becoming a Deviant means he doesn't do anything he doesn't want. And Connor hadn't left your side for one second since you were shot." When you aren't convinced, Hank continues. "Connor blew away that piece of shit within seconds of the attack. But I think he regrets not preventing it, so it's hard for him to see you like this."

You stare at your hands placed gently on your lap. "It was an android that shot me, wasn't it."

Hank's swift change of conversation confirms your question. "You know, why don't I reel Connor back in here. He's lurking somewhere."

The Detective wanders out, only leaving his wrapper on the seat as you wonder about Connor. 

Connor leans over the rails of the second story pavilion, watching people enter and leave the hospital. Maybe he's trying to normalize what happened to you or distract himself. But diverting his attention is unsuccessful, and that seems to be fitting to the last few days of his life. The sun shines on his face. The blizzard finally abandoned Detroit, allowing the sun to shine upon the new age of freedom. But the city had never seemed so dark.

Despite the productive surgery and you regaining consciousness, he still felt the pang of fear, one which bled from his subconscious into the rational portion of his brain. Becoming a deviant meant feeling everything, and he wished he could be selective.

You were alive, and you were safe, Connor had to remember that. It provided some relief but the grit of reality to still hung in the air no matter where he went.

"You should talk to her." Hank was bound to find him sooner or later.

Connor didn't physically react, watching a woman clutch her stomach as a man wheeled her towards the emergency entrance.

"She's wondering why you ran off." Connor's led spins yellow. "Thinks it's her fault." Then red. 

"It isn't." Connor watches his friend from his peripheral. "I'm adjusting to the side effects of emotion. It isn't... pleasant."

Hanks struts up beside Connor, leaning an arm on the rails while facing the android. "Hospitals are the scariest places on Earth. Do you think I want to be here? Fuck no. But despite my triggers, there's a girl in recovery here that could use a friendly face. And if you haven't noticed, I'm not the friendly one between the two of us. So, you should get the hell back in that room."

"I don't know how to handle this." He gazes at the Lieutenant. "When you were here for Cole-"

"Do I look like a therapist to you? Figure it out, you dumb fuck." Hank's already walking away. "And stop triggering me."

Connor's Led swirls yellow, but the soft blue never returns.

"It's all my fault."

You furrow your brows by the time you make eye contact with the android. He's standing in the doorway, appearing terrified to enter.

"From what I hear, you're the reason I'm alive."

Connor shakes his head, taking a step inside. Unable to make eye contact, the android's eyes dart around the room until they land on the discarded burger in your bed. The way he zones in on it, you know he's scanning the wrapper. "That's insufficient dietary for recovery. Hank shouldn't have brought that."

The android meets your eye, and the misery on your face makes him confess. "The shooter was an android sent by Cyberlife; my replacement." Connor wanders back over to the chair beside your bed. "I should have strung Cyberlife along, making them believe I was still on their side, even towards the end. Then you wouldn't have been in the line of fire."

"So, I wasn't the target?"

Connor blinks, astounded that technicalities are your primary concern, not that he was the core reason for your hospitalization. "You blocked the shot. The... assassin," he had a difficult time saying the word. " attempted to shot through you to strike Markus."

You squeezed the android's hand. "You've saved so many lives by leaving Cyberlife. Don't ever regret that. I knew what I was signing up for by fighting for the revolution."

Connor's dark eyes remained low, making it impossible for you to detect what he was thinking. "Connor?"

"I've never seen so much crimson blood before," he admits, glancing up at you through his dark lashes. "More blue blood than all of my versions could store, but your blood..." Connor's face falls ultimately, and his eyes swell with tears, causing your stomach to churn. "I was so... scared. Becoming a Deviant has changed things, but what I felt holding you on that stage... I couldn't have ever imagined that much fear. The...pain of knowing that if I had done something differently-"

"Guilt," you remind him, knowing he was still adjusting to emotions, all of them that came with being alive. "is a sticky business, especially when it's felt unjust. You shouldn't feel guilty. Hank says I would've died without you. And this is what happens when you have people you care about when you have friends."

"But we're not just friends," Connor looks up at you. "Are we?"

Your heart thumps erratically, and you know Connor doesn't need the monitor to detect the irregularity.

"An android falling for a human... it may be the first occasion in existence. And because I wanted to be near you, with you, I didn't think of the consequences of angering Cyberlife." His voice breaks, and you can see moisture built up in his eyes. You hadn't known androids could tear up. "I shouldn't have been so selfish, I'm sorry... more than I can ever express."

Connor studies your face. "Have I said something that has made you uncomfortable? I won't bring it up again if you prefer-"

"Kiss me, Connor."

His led swirls frantically as he processes the request, while your free arm outstretches towards Connor. Your hand brushes his cheek, lingering over the false skin, how soft and even warm he felt under your touch. And the android rests into your embrace. He leans in, making it possible for you to reach up, and press your lips against his in the softest and most blissful motion.

Getting shot was worth this.

[detroit-become-me]

Fault

Summary: Connor is devastated after a near-fatal wound hospitalizes you, and turns all blame on himself.

A/N: Work also posted on my main blog, @gone-to-fight-the-fairies​​  

Pairing: Connor (RK 800) x reader

Word Count: 2k

Persistent beeping pestered you out of your dreams. You want to roll over, to evade the blaring, and go back to sleep. But something is tugging at your arm, and the strange sensation makes you more curious than you are exhausted. There’s something else on the same side, but clutching your index finger. The more you stir, the sound seems harsher. The pitch bounces around your skull, around the room, like there’s no furniture or objects to soften the racket.

Where are you?

Against the strain of exhaustion and how stiff your body’s become, you push your lids back, eyes settling on an unfocused setting. Blurry vision prevails, but you can detect that the walls are white… and too bright.

“Don’t worry.” A voice so sincere coos. It’s almost angelic yet… informative. “You’re safe now.”

Connor.  

Turning your head quickly makes you dizzy. But he’s sitting right there beside you. You blink the blur away, focusing on the softness of his facial features, which you observe to be grimmer than usual. You didn’t know an android could look so worn.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

You groan at the increasing pitch, but you refuse to take your eyes off of Connor; the only thing certain in an unknown environment. The corner of his mouth twitches, but there’s a heaviness to his expression.

“Relax,” he tells you, cupping a hand over yours. “The threat’s been eliminated. No one can hurt you now. It’s all over.”

What was he talking about? The revolution succeeded. Markus won the equality for the androids while Connor and Hank prevented further corruption of Cyberlife. Markus’ succession speech had started… Everything was on track towards improvement.

You glance around for clues and halt on the dark splotches on Connor’s otherwise pristine jacket. It’s dried and… crimson? Androids bleed blue-

“You were attacked…” When you glance up at his face his gaze shifts. “At the Celebration Speech. The shooter mistook you for an android.” There are gaps between Connor’s words, and his eyes shifted towards the door. “I need some… air.”

For a man that didn’t breathe? You reaching after him, but the same restraint holds you back, and you curse at the IV.  

“Here you go, girlie.” Hank’s rough voice calls out a moment after and serves as his form of knocking. An object flies through the air, and you catch it before the greasy package hits your face. You nod towards the Lieutenant, and he laughs. “See, you’re going to be back to normal in no time.”

Hank occupies the vacant seat Connor left, unwrapping his own food. “Hell, you gave us quite a scare.” You’re more curious about the events that occurred than what’s in your hands.

You shift, sitting up. Though your side burns and it feels like you’ve been stabbed. You whimper, clutching your left side. Nauseous, you push your food away.

Hank’s telling you to take it easy, but you’re growing frustrated at the missing information and the pain doesn’t help. “I don’t even know what’s wrong with me.”

Hank furrows his brows, glancing up from his burger, delaying his bite. “Connor didn’t tell you? He practically diagnosed you himself before any responders could get through the crowd. A clean shot to the side; broke two ribs in the process. Fuck, the doctor was oblivious that the bulled nicked your liver. Connor had to fight ‘em to reconsider the original diagnosis, which, from what he says, would’ve made you bleed out.”

There’s a growing lump in your throat, but better than the anxiety of the unknown. “I guess we both have troubled livers now.” Hank’s laugh spits out part of his burger, making you to smile momentarily before you return to seriousness. “Connor did say that someone who hates androids did this-”

“Hated,” Hank corrects, and you understand immediately. Something in your expression alternates what he says next. “And, yeah, sort of. It hated Deviants. Uh… maybe we should talk about this when you’re feeling better.”

It?

You aren’t given the proper time to calculate the information as another voice interrupts and a figure enters the room. “The robot mentioned you were awake.”

Was Connor willing to talk to the entire building before you?

“He’s an android, doc,” Hank grumbles, crossing his arms. It wasn’t easy to let go of another’s mistakes, but Hank clearly didn’t think much of this doctor.  

The doctor ignores Hank, checking your charts. “Vitals are stable. How do you feel?” He directed towards you while looking at the papers on his clipboard. “Wait, you’re not the one with appendicitis.”

“No, she’s the girl you almost killed yesterday-” Hank’s standing up to square off with the man, but you reach forward, ignoring the pain to tug at your friend’s sleeve. “Hank.” You plead, and after a long moment, he curses and waits outside the room for the doctor to finish.

When the doctor left, Hank swore up a storm worse than the blizzard days before. “Didn’t even suggest you stay away from this grub.” Hank held up his half-eaten burger. “Connor’s smart not to trust the doctors around here. Rely too much on androids to do their God damn jobs.”

Hank wanders back to the chair, and picks up his burger to resume eating, but stays standing. He’s watching you, knowing that something beyond your health is bothering you. “You know, Connor somehow got into your operating room, which is beyond me. Surprised he left in such a hurry just now.”

“Maybe he just didn’t want to be here.”

The Lieutenant takes a bite, talking with his mouth full. “I know Connor just as well as I know Japanese, but I do know that becoming a Deviant means he doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want. And Connor hadn’t left your side for one second since you were shot.” When you aren’t convinced, Hank continues. “Connor blew away that piece of shit within seconds of the attack. But I think he regrets not preventing it, so it’s hard for him to see you like this.”

You stare at your hands placed gently on your lap. “It was an android that shot me, wasn’t it.”

Hank’s swift change of conversation confirms your question. “You know, why don’t I reel Connor back in here. He’s lurking somewhere.”

The Lieutenant wanders out, only leaving his wrapper on the seat as you wonder about Connor. 

Connor leans over the rails of the second story pavilion, watching people enter and leave the hospital. Maybe he’s trying to normalize what happened to you or distract himself. But diverting his attention is unsuccessful, and that seems to be fitting to the last few days of his life. The sun shines on his face. The blizzard finally abandoned Detroit, allowing the sun to shine upon the new age of freedom. But the city had never seemed so dark.

Despite the productive surgery and you regaining consciousness, he still felt the pang of fear, one which bled from his subconscious into the rational portion of his brain. Becoming a deviant meant feeling everything, and he wished he could be selective.

You were alive, and you were safe, Connor had to remember that. It provided some relief but the grit of reality to still hung in the air no matter where he went.

“You should talk to her.” Hank was bound to find him sooner or later.

Connor didn’t physically react, watching a woman clutch her stomach as a man wheeled her towards the emergency entrance.

“She’s wondering why you ran off.” Connor’s led spins yellow. “Thinks it’s her fault.” Then red. 

“It isn’t.” Connor watches his friend from his peripheral. “I’m adjusting to the side effects of emotion. It isn’t… pleasant.”

Hanks struts up beside Connor, leaning an arm on the rails while facing the android. “Hospitals are the scariest places on Earth. Do you think I want to be here? Fuck no. But despite my triggers, there’s a girl in recovery here that could use a friendly face. And if you haven’t noticed, I’m not the friendly one between the two of us. So, you should get the hell back in that room.”

“I don’t know how to handle this.” He gazes at the Lieutenant. “When you were here for Cole-”

“Do I look like a therapist to you? Figure it out, you dumb fuck.” Hank’s already walking away. “And stop triggering me.”

Connor’s Led swirls yellow, but the soft blue never returns.

“It’s all my fault.”

You furrow your brows by the time you make eye contact with the android. He’s standing in the doorway, appearing terrified to enter.

“From what I hear, you’re the reason I’m alive.”

Connor shakes his head, taking a step inside. Unable to make eye contact, the android’s eyes dart around the room until they land on the discarded burger in your bed. The way he zones in on it, you know he’s scanning the wrapper. “That’s insufficient dietary for recovery. Hank shouldn’t have brought that.”

The android meets your eye, and the misery on your face makes him confess. “The shooter was an android sent by Cyberlife; my replacement.” Connor wanders back over to the chair beside your bed. “I should have strung Cyberlife along, making them believe I was still on their side, even towards the end. Then you wouldn’t have been in the line of fire.”

“So, I wasn’t the target?”

Connor blinks, astounded that technicalities are your primary concern, not that he was the core reason for your hospitalization. “You blocked the shot. The… assassin,” he had a difficult time saying the word. “ attempted to shot through you to strike Markus.”

You squeezed the android’s hand. “You’ve saved so many lives by leaving Cyberlife. Don’t ever regret that. I knew what I was signing up for by fighting for the revolution.”

Connor’s dark eyes remained low, making it impossible for you to detect what he was thinking. “Connor?”

“I’ve never seen so much crimson blood before,” he admits, glancing up at you through his dark lashes. “More blue blood than all of my versions could store, but your blood…” Connor’s face falls ultimately, and his eyes swell with tears, causing your stomach to churn. “I was so… scared. Becoming a Deviant has changed things, but what I felt holding you on that stage… I couldn’t have ever imagined that much fear. The…pain of knowing that if I had done something differently-”

“Guilt,” you remind him, knowing he was still adjusting to emotions, all of them that came with being alive. “is a sticky business, especially when it’s felt unjust. You shouldn’t feel guilty. Hank says I would’ve died without you. And this is what happens when you have people you care about when you have friends.”

“But we’re not just friends,” Connor looks up at you. “Are we?”

Your heart thumps erratically, and you know Connor doesn’t need the monitor to detect the irregularity.

“An android falling for a human… it may be the first occasion in existence. And because I wanted to be near you, with you, I didn’t think of the consequences of angering Cyberlife.” His voice breaks, and you can see moisture built up in his eyes. You hadn’t known androids could tear up. “I shouldn’t have been so selfish, I’m sorry… more than I can ever express.”

Connor studies your face. “Have I said something that has made you uncomfortable? I won’t bring it up again if you prefer-”

“Kiss me, Connor.”

His led swirls frantically as he processes the request, while your free arm outstretches towards Connor. Your hand brushes his cheek, lingering over the false skin, how soft and even warm he felt under your touch. And the android rests into your embrace. He leans in, making it possible for you to reach up, and press your lips against his in the softest and most blissful motion.

Getting shot was worth this.