#even with nearly double my meds i still want to cry myself to sleep

[mynameisbillandimaheadcase]

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[sierraraeck]

Cleansing (Pt.2)

Spencer x OC Aundreya

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

If you are triggered by talk of sexual abuse and have not read how I have set up this fic, please do so. You can still read it without that content, just click here.

(This is my gif so please give credit if used)

Summary: Spencer needs help dealing with his dealer. Both of them are required to take two weeks off and they decide to spend those two weeks together. Things get hot and messy and emotional. There’s a lot going on. Story nine.

Category: Some angst, some fluff, some steam, some smut.

Warnings: Cussing. Drugs. Mentions of drug abuse. Shots fired. Discussion of prior sexual abuse. Oral (both receiving), penetrative (unprotected), fingering, creampie.

Word Count: 8.6k

A/N: This is my first time writing smut. Forgive me if it’s bad and I’d love to hear your feedback. Also, I know injuries don’t heal that fast but we are just going to ignore it. Big thanks to @definitelynotkatesblog for reading over and helping me with the smut section, I really appreciate it.

Side note: Somewhere in here I hit 50k words of fanfic.

“Let the two weeks commence,” I said, pressing play on the season premiere of ‘Sherlock’. I’d made the executive decision that we were going to stay inside as much as possible, and we were going to binge watch shows and have movie marathons. He made the executive decision that we were going to start with ‘Sherlock’.

I had practically moved into his apartment, my things stuffed into the corner underneath the tv. I brought everything I needed, plus an entire suitcase worth of new books for him to read since he wasn’t supposed to be doing much. The only reason anyone left his apartment was for me to go pick up food, or something else from my place that I decided we needed. I made sure to keep all of the walkways clear, and I watched him like a hawk every time he decided to move. Most of the time I scolded him and got whatever it was for him, but things like the bathroom and showering, those got more complicated.

He insisted that I go home and sleep at my place, but I was content on his couch. At night, things were the worst. It’s like I could feel his restlessness. He eventually fell asleep, but at around 2am every night, he was waking up from whatever terrifying dream decided to haunt him. I would go into his room and sit with him for a while, sometimes reading to him (he complained he felt childish but I knew he secretly liked it), and then, out of fear I would hurt him laying next to him and wouldn’t be close enough to him from the couch, I slept on the floor. Which he scolded me for every morning. But I didn’t mind. I’d slept on worse. I created a pillow fortress around the whole bed just in case he rolled off, which he informed me was ridiculous and he’d never done in his life, but I told him you can never be too sure.

Then there was that deal about the drugs.

We were both getting clean, and considering he was addicted to pain meds, he couldn’t take any pain meds. We had made a deal that every time one of us left the other’s sight, when they came back, we’d check them for drug use. I checked him for an injection site and he checked me for signs of power, and any other symptoms that were associated with the other’s drug. I felt my heart pull a little every time I looked over at him and saw him in that brace. I could tell he was trying so hard to keep it together, but the pain was getting to him.

“It’s okay, you know,” I told him.

“What?”

“To cry.”

“What are you talking about?” he said through a grimace.

“Or maybe scream, if that’s more your thing.” He looked at me expectantly, so I explained, “Besides the morning and the night, the pain is the worst at around four. It’s four right now. I know it’s not pleasant over there, and I’m just reminding you that it’s okay to let go.”

“You’ve been paying attention to when I’m in the most pain?”

“What else am I going to pay attention to?”

“The tv.”

“The tv is not nearly as interesting as you.”

“So my pain is interesting to you?” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“You know that’s not what I meant. But if you must know, your general health and well-being is definitely a point of interest to me,” I fired back. He gave me a small smile.

I left to go to the bathroom, and when I came back, he checked me. It had been a few days (I honestly stopped keeping track) and I decided I’d keep things interesting.

I took off my sweatshirt and turned the pockets inside out. “As you can see, there are no drugs in here.” He nodded, seeming slightly confused as to why I needed to take my sweatshirt completely off to prove that. Next, I stripped off my sweatpants, leaving me in my bra and underwear. I turned those pockets inside out as well and repeated, “There are no drugs in here, either.”

His eyes seemed conflicted, flicking between my empty pockets, the tv, and my much-on-display body. I did a slow turn, and as I did, I drew attention to my lower half, explaining that I didn’t have any drugs stuffed in my panites.

When I turned back around to face him, I caught his eyes lingering on the delicate lace that shielded the last of myself from him. He looked up into my eyes, realizing I’d noticed him staring, and quickly shifted his gaze back to the tv. I put my sweatshirt back on, but in return removed my bra using the classic locker room trick. I held it up like it was an exhibit at a museum, ready for him to examine. “And finally, there are no drugs in here either.”

He followed the sight of my bra falling from my fingers all the way down to the floor, landing right next to my forgotten sweatpants. I strutted back over to the couch and sat down next to him, letting the knowledge that I was half as clothed as before set in. I pretended to turn my attention back to the tv, but I kept an eye on his reaction out of my peripheral. I had definitely accomplished my goal of distracting him from the pain.

I continued to tease him the next couple of days, getting a bit more bold as time went on, like making sure to ‘thoroughly check all of the alternative spots’ that one could inject themselves in besides the arm. The bolder I got, the more he slightly squirmed under my touch, even biting his lip once and having a shudder run through his body. I had to compose myself until I turned away, not wanting him to know how much pleasure I got from seeing how much of an effect I had on him.

After I had teased him for a few days, I decided I’d just toss a delicious idea I’d dreamt of out there and see what happened.

“So, today you get to test out ‘taking it easy’ without the brace on, huh?” I asked.

“Yep,” he responded.

“How’s the pain?”

“It’s better than it was a week and a half ago. I’m lucky that it was only a super minor fracture, and because I have been following all of the rules so strictly,” he cleared his throat and gave me a pointed look, “it is healing as fast as possible.”

“That is fantastic news. What do you plan on doing first as an unbraced man?”

“I don’t know, actually.”

“May I suggest a shower? The warm water will feel amazing,” I suggested.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” he turned to head toward the bathroom.

I took a giddy deep breath, but tried to sound innocent when I asked, “Would you like any help?”

“Help with what?” He took a couple paces backwards so he could look at me.

“Just help. I’d hate for you to slip in the shower your first day out of the brace and not have anyone around to catch you…” I trailed off. His eyes got really wide and his demeanor changed to one of nervousness. Or was that excitement? I couldn’t quite tell.

He gulped but followed matter-of-factly with, “That is a good point...”

Was that a yes? What does that mean? Dammit that was a clever response.

Spencer walked back into the bathroom and turned on the water. I sat there, replaying his response over and over in my head trying to figure out what I should do.

It wasn’t long before I got my answer when he peeked his head out of the door and asked, “Well, are you going to come help me or not?”

Fuck yeah I’m going to help.

“Of course I am. I’m right behind you,” I said, already halfway to the bathroom. I stripped off my t-shirt and underwear (I sported only those two garments nowadays) and stepped into the bathroom. The room felt amazing, like being hugged with a warm blanket, the mirror already steamed over. Spencer was already in the shower. I took one deep breath and stepped around the curtain.

He was so perfect. He was facing the water and I watched the droplets collect on his back, then traced them as they ran all the way down it. I was still looking down when he turned around to face me. I was about to do a double take, shocked by his size, but he put a finger under my chin and lifted it up, forcing me to peel my eyes away and look into his own.

“Hi,” he said in a soft tone.

“Hi,” I replied. I felt frozen in place, drowning in his warm gaze, our only point of contact being just his finger under my chin. I wanted so badly to change that, but I had to remind myself to be gentle. Speaking of, I moved my eyes down his lips, his jaw, his neck, his chest, until I reached the scar on his right side. I slowly lifted my left hand and placed it just under the stitches they'd removed the day before. He shuddered just a little, and I quickly retracted my hand, worried I’d hurt him.

“I’m so sorry-”

“No. It’s okay,” he assured. He reached down and engulfed my hand in his, delicately placing it back on his body, right over the scar. “I trust you.”

I was so thankful that the water was running, otherwise he would have seen the small teardrops that fell from my eyes. I’d never heard more beautiful words come out of a more beautiful mouth, and those three meant the world to me.

“I would never hurt you,” I whispered.

He nodded. “I know.”

It was too much to hope that he’d missed my tears, because he cupped my face and gently swiped at the extra moisture collecting on my cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just that … It’s just that I’ve never had anyone trust me the way you do,” I murmured.

How come I couldn’t go just one moment where I was supposed to be taking care of him and not have it turn into him comforting me?

I lightly danced my fingertips over his scar, and he found one of his own to trace his fingers over. I saw him eyeing it the other day, so it didn’t surprise me that out of all the scars on my body, this was the one he chose. It was one deep line that went right between my breasts. He leaned over and planted a single kiss right in the middle, sending a shudder down my spine. I sharply inhaled, and he ghosted his lips over me until they reached my own. I was captivated by how soft they were, how delicate he was being with me, as if I was the one who’d just been shot. He left me wanting more as he pulled away, but there were other things I had my heart set on helping him with.

For some reason, hair had always been one of the most attractive features to me. Spencer’s hair was like no others’, and I loved getting to thread my fingers through it whenever I could. I couldn’t resist reaching for his shampoo and globbing some on my hands.

“That’s too-”

“Shh,” I said. I had to reach up to get to his hair, but my hands moved with a mind of their own once they got going. I slowly watched more and more bubbles form in his hair as I massaged my hands around his head. He reached his own up, placing them on top of mine to aid in the process, causing me to giggle at the feeling. He removed my hands and I went to get my own shampoo, but I couldn’t help staring at the picturesque sight of him leaning his head back, closing his eyes, and letting the water rid his hair of the suds. I saw his Adam's apple bob when he swallowed, and couldn’t tear my eyes from his hands, methodically pushing his hair back from his face.

When he opened his eyes again, he almost smirked at the sight of me watching him. He put his hands on my shoulders, and turned me around so that I could no longer see him. He grabbed the loofah I left in there, added some body wash, and deliberately moved it in circular motions on my back. I felt him pause momentarily, probably studying the tattoo on my shoulder blade, but quickly continued. He switched places with me once he thought I was sufficiently scrubbed.

I felt the water beat down on my back as he wrapped his arms around me. I returned the embrace, both of our breathing hiccuping when his length rubbed against my folds. Neither of us dared to move, not sure if the other was willing to go farther. I put my head down on his chest, my lips leaving an open mouthed kiss on his collarbone in doing so. He rested his head down on top of mine, and we stood there in that embrace for what could have easily been forever. I got up on my tiptoes, forgetting that we were in a delicate situation, having to press my lips together before I reached his ear and whispered, “Let’s get you dried off.”

He reached around me to turn off the water and stepped out. I followed, grabbing the towel off the rack and looping it around him. I wrapped my own towel around me as Spencer turned to face me, stealing one more glance downwards before he could cover himself. We finished getting ready in silence, occasionally glancing over at the other.

We spent the rest of the night like that, hardly bothering to make small talk. Instead of watching tv, we decided we’d read prior to going to bed.

I don’t know about Spencer, but I couldn’t make it through a single page without having my mind drift back to him. I knew what I wanted, but my desire was strong enough to cloud my judgement, no longer allowing me to read him properly. I didn’t know exactly what he wanted, so I just sat there fantasizing about the shower and other fun places.

Finally, I’d had enough, getting out of the chair I was sitting in and moving toward the couch where Spencer was, leaving my book behind.

“How’s your book?” I asked.

“It’s good. How about yours?” he replied, not even looking away.

I ignored his question. “Is it descriptive?”

“Yes.” He looked up at me with slight confusion.

“That’s good. Being descriptive is a very good thing,” I said. I swung my leg over him, lowering myself down onto his lap.

He closed his book and put it on the end table next to us. There was a small question in his reply, “It is.”

“Do you think you could describe something to me?” I asked. I ran my hands down his clothed chest, toying with the waistband of his pajama pants. He swallowed, but didn’t protest.

“And what’s that?”

I smiled up at him as I started to slide his pants off him. “Is this okay?”

He only nodded in response, his eyes locked on my face. I pulled the remaining bit of underwear off, indulging in the growing erection I found underneath. I lightly stroked one finger down his length, tracing a protruding vein. He inhaled sharply, closing his eyes.

When I reached the base, I completely grasped him with one hand, pumping it up and down his shaft at an agonizingly slow pace.

“Describe this to me,” I said in a sultry whisper. His eyes flew open, telling me he didn’t think that was going to be possible. I put my other hand at the back of his neck and quickly swept him into a kiss. When I pulled away I added, “Just do your best.”

Besides the fact that I loved hearing his angelic voice, I wanted to give him a wide open, no shame invitation to express how he was feeling. I knew how awful it was to be in a situation where you felt like you couldn’t speak freely or tell someone what you wanted. This way, I could make sure he was comfortable with what I was doing and I could turn it into a little game where I could tease the hell outta him.

He nodded, face slightly pinched. “It’s, uh, good. Kind of slow.”

“Aw, you can do better than that,” I said playfully, “Tell it to me like you are reading it out of a detailed novel.”

I picked up the pace slightly for added encouragement.

“Um, you picked up the pace, but it was still too slow for my liking,” he gave me a questioning look and I gave him a single nod in approval. I started making zig-zag lines with my other hand that was previously on his neck, moving it slowly down his chest. His voice was strained but velvety when continuing, “You’re teasing me, which is fine for now, but I’m hoping that will change soon.”

I gave him a sly smile, finishing the path my other hand had been taking, reaching its destination onto his shaft, allowing it to help please him. “Keep going.”

“I’m inhaling, trying to focus really hard on forming coherent sentences,” he said, breathing starting to labor. I applied a bit more pressure. “I’ve decided to kiss you, needing something more to do with my lips than just talk.” He leaned toward me and kissed me, gasping as he did because I finally increased my pace to one that might be considered reasonable.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

“Ooh, that’s not part of the narrative,” I commented, my voice heavy with mischief, slowing back down.

“It is now,” he said through clenched teeth, giving me a look that begged me to speed back up. I had to smirk at his irises being swallowed up by the darkness expanding from his pupils. “You slowed down again, but I knew you would speed back up.”

I did as he said, watching his face in amusement as he started forming an idea.

“You kiss me,” and I did, “and you tug just a bit harder.”

Again, I followed his directions, allowing him to take some control back as long as he could continue giving them. Spencer smiled slightly to himself, finally picking up on how this little game of mine worked.

“I’m going to help you out of your shirt, then follow with my own,” he said. His nimble fingers brushed up under my shirt, the cold of his palms sending goosebumps up my warm sides. I put my arms up and he slipped the fabric easily over my head, leaving the piercing air to swarm my exposed body. Soon we were both topless and his gaze swept over my breasts. I could tell he was getting more excited as he continued on, but I decided I wanted some control back.

I pressed my lips to the base of his jaw as he pulled me flush against him, putting his own on the side of my neck. My hands resumed their previous position as I left a trail of small kisses along his jawline, in between them whispering, “Just keep focusing on those pretty sentences of yours.”

As I moved farther down his neck, he tilted his head back, allowing me more access. I kissed down the column of his throat, then his chest, planting one after the other, slightly sucking at each point. I paused to barely brush my lips against his scar before removing myself from his lap altogether, taking my hands along with me.

“For some reason you pulled away from me, but I want more. I want a lot more,” he said, staring into my eyes trying to read my ulterior motives. They became blatantly obvious when I sunk down to my knees. I pulled the rest of his clothes completely off him, tossing them to the side, Spencer walking me through it the whole way.

I looked up at him and flashed him a smile, saying, “Now, I don’t need you to be completely coherent for this, but I do want to hear how you are feeling, so don’t hold back any of the words, or sounds, that come to mind.”

I leaned over and just barely brushed my lips against his tip. Again, I purposely started out at a tantalizing pace, slowly taking him in inch by inch. I strained to keep my eyes on his, wanting to watch him writhe and unfold. He leaned his head back against the couch as his eyes fluttered shut.

I pulled off of him. “I just have one more request.”

“Anything,” he said in a haste, hardly waiting for me to finish my sentence. I had to smile at how eager he was to have me continue.

“I want you to look at me. I want to see your eyes all the way up until you can’t stand it anymore. I want to watch you fall over the edge,” I said.

He nodded. “Okay.”

I resumed my slow pace, hands on his thighs, only allowing myself to use my mouth for now. I swirled my tongue around him as best I could, eventually just opting to trace it along one of his veins, applying extra pressure there. I finally reached the bottom, holding all of him in my mouth. Only then did I pick up the pace. His hands flew into my hair and he let out a low groan. The deep pitch of it was unexpected coming from him, and it sparked a flame inside my chest that spread throughout my whole body.

I hummed against him, only dragging out his groan. I allowed my hands to work whatever I couldn’t comfortably fit in my mouth at this pace. I started sucking harder, his member not too far behind me, as he let a string of curses roll off his tongue. I let him fall from me with a satisfying pop, giving him only a moment of reprieve before I pushed him over the edge. His mouth was hanging open and I caught his tongue in a messy kiss before returning my attention back to his cock.

He quickly caught me before I took him back in. “Don’t. If you do that I’m going to-”

“I know,” I assured slyly, “I know exactly what I’m doing.”

I hesitated only for a moment, waiting to see if any more protests were headed my way. When I received none, I traced my tongue all the way down and back. I started intensely sucking at his tip when I had to remind him, “Remember, I want your eyes right here all the way until the last second.”

I took all of him back into my mouth, hollowing out my cheeks as I went. I was pumping up and down him as fast as I could, my hands following suit.

“Fuck, Aundreya,” he barely got out before I felt him pulse, being overpowered by the moan that followed. He was such a vision, letting all control go, spilling into my throat. I did my best to remember the taste before quickly swallowing, turning my attention to his face. As if he could get any prettier. His head was lulling back, mouth agape and eyes screwed shut in pure ecstasy. I waited for his eyes to flutter back open and look at me before I slowly freed him from my mouth.

I stood up, drinking in every detail of his naked body sitting there in front of me. If he was the last thing I ever saw, I would die happy.

I turned around so that when I bent over, slipping my panties down my legs, he’d have a perfect view of my ass. I stepped out of them and tossed them his direction. It was my way of warning him about the pool collecting at my core, knowing he’d feel how wet they already were. He dropped them on the ground next to the rest of our neglected clothes, and I extended my hand out to him. He gladly accepted and I led him back to his bedroom.

I quickly went to shut the blinds and when I turned around, Spencer was right there. He lightly pinned me up against the wall with his already clammy hands on my shoulders. There had always been something about his salacious hands that made me excited, the way his large palms and long, thin fingers could completely control me, but didn't. How he could manhandle me but he respected me enough not to. Not like I’d particularly protest if he decided he wanted to.

He gave me a brief kiss before enveloping one of my breasts in his hand, the other in his mouth. He rolled his tongue over my hardened nipple and I arched my back toward him away from the cool wall, letting out a gasp. I was already quivering under his touch by the time he ran a finger through my folds. I must have been extra sensitive since I hadn’t had any intimate contact with anyone in almost five years.

I let out a shaky breath, and he released me from the wall, only to turn right back around and hold me down on the bed. I relinquished any control I might’ve once had in this situation, giving it all to him. He placed his hands on my inner thighs and lightly spread them apart. He took a moment to admire the pool waiting for him. He left open mouthed kisses along my inner thighs, getting dangerously close to where I really needed him. A small whimper left my throat. I wanted to be embarrassed about how sensitive I was and how easily he was unraveling me, but I couldn’t. The blissful feeling I got from every contact point radiated through my body, easily overcoming any embarrassment I could muster.

“Could I make you form coherent sentences right now?” he asked with a smug smile, knowing damn well what the answer was.

“Definitely not,” I breathed and he chuckled. He gave me a chaste kiss, immediately contrasted by running his tongue over my clit, licking up the excess moisture on the way. I involuntarily lifted my hips up, but he placed an arm over them, holding them down. He expertly sucked at my nerves, causing me to press my lips together and cling to the bedsheets for dear life. Then he abruptly stopped.

“That’s not fair. You wanted to hear everything I had to offer, and now it’s your turn. I don’t want to see you press your lips together again,” he purred, quietly but sternly. I nodded, unwilling to hear how pathetic my voice would have sounded had I responded.

He went right back to what he was doing, lapping over me a bit faster than before. I let another whimper escape me and he mumbled, “There. That’s more like it.”

Right after he’d finished talking, his tongue plunged into me. My hands moved, needing to touch him, one landing in his hair, the other on his cheek. His hands kept me from bucking my hips toward him like I wanted, so I settled for lightly tugging at his roots. This only encouraged him. He replaced his tongue with two fingers and my breathing hitched. His pace was excruciatingly slow, which I guess I deserved. My breathing became labored and the moment he picked up the pace, curling his fingers inside me, I emptied my lungs, a high pitched moan ripping through my torso. I was already so close to the edge and he wasn’t letting up. He must’ve been returning the favor from earlier.

“Spencer-” before I could get anything else out, he removed his fingers and held them up to my face. I took them in my mouth, ridding each one of my fluids. Just as quickly as they came, they left, pushing back into me. My hands moved under his jaw where he was adding extra friction, attempting to pull him away from me. He wasn’t about to let that happen, so he took each one of my hands in one of his and pinned them on either side of me, simultaneously allowing him to press down my legs with his arms. His tongue persisted on its way to finishing me, and I interlaced my fingers with his right as I came undone.

“Fuck! Oh my god, Spencer, fuck,” I spoke through moans. I hadn’t experienced anything like that, anything that strong before, and I felt my eyes roll into the back of my head. How would I survive him fully inside me? I desperately wanted to find out. He finally came up for air after placing one last delicate kiss on my clit. He crawled up the bed so he was looming over me, perfectly positioned at my entrance. I hooked my hand around his neck and pulled him down to me. I put my other hand right on his scar, asking, “How does this feel?”

“If I’m being honest, I completely forgot about it.”

I smiled knowing that I was making for a great distraction. “Good. Let’s keep it that way for a while.”

He nodded in agreement and reached over my head to a drawer. He pulled out a small package but I stopped him before he tore it open.

“We don’t have to,” I said.

He stopped quickly and looked at me, puzzled. “We don’t have to use one if you don’t want to.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. I’m covered,” I said. I’d been on birth control since I was fourteen, and once I joined the gang, they did everything in their power to make sure that none of their ‘special ladies’ ever got pregnant. I knew that there was absolutely no chance of that now, so there was really no reason to use one.

The remains of a question lingered on his face, but he placed it back in his drawer. We didn’t have to get into that right now.

He leaned back slightly to line himself up, then he slowly pushed into me, my only warning being the look he gave me right before. I gasped as he filled me to the hilt. He slowly rocked into me, letting me adjust. I circled my hips under him finding the best position as he rested his head in the crook of my neck. I could feel his hot breath in time with his shallow thrusts.

⚠️ Warning: below this is where the sexual abuse content starts

That’s when the flashbacks hit me.

We weren’t in Spencer’s room anymore, not even in his apartment. The walls morphed into those of concrete slightly stained with water, the rhythmic sound of droplets dripping into a puddle behind me. It was dark and cold, and I could feel the springs of the dirty mattress moving beneath me, the musty air blanketing the room. I went to find comfort in Spencer but he wasn’t there anymore. The body looming over me, pushing into me, breathing down my neck was not Spencer. Instead, I found a man with an all too familiar buzz cut, tattoos littering his neck, and those chilling grey eyes that matched the unforgiving scenery surrounding us. I started to panic. It was this man who’d drugged me and tossed me around to his friends before using me, who’d held me down and choked me into submission, and who left me bloody, bruised, and broken.

My breathing became shallow, vision blurring, and my heart rate rapidly increased.

“Stop,” I could barely hear myself, but Spencer got the message.

He quickly pulled out and was sitting on his knees, looking me over. “What? Are you okay, did I hurt you?”

He sounded alarmed, but I shook my head. “No, no. You were perfect. I just … I just had a moment.”

“A moment?” he asked, timid.

“A flashback,” I explained. Realization spread through his glorious features and he started to back away from me. “No, it’s okay,” I grabbed him before he could move any farther away from me, terrified that if he left me I would shatter, pulling him into a hug. I could feel the heat between us and the meager sweat that was clinging to our bodies. My breathing was still unsteady as I shook the images from my head. I breathed him in, the sweet smell of autumn and cinnamon reminding me that it was just Spencer.

He tentatively put his hands around me, returning the hug. He repeated in my ear, “You’re safe. I’ve got you. It’s just me. You’re safe.”

I nodded into his shoulder. I felt ashamed and overexposed, wanting to pull the sheets around me, but I was too paralyzed to even move. I didn’t want to make things worse and I certainly didn’t want to scare Spencer away, assuming I hadn’t already done that. I couldn’t bring myself to actually look at him, knowing the worry in his eyes would only fuel the guilt that threatened to drown me.

How many more moments with Spencer would be ruined? Why couldn’t I just leave my past behind and move on?

I reminded myself that what happened wasn’t my fault, but every time the memories were triggered, that’s how I felt.

I slowed my breathing until I had it under control. “Thank you. I’m so sorry.”

Spencer pulled away but only slightly so that he had a better view of my face. He looked astonished. “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for.”

“I know, it’s just that I want this, I want you, and of course my problems have to get in the way.”

“Don’t say that,” he said as I sat up a little, letting him cradle me in his arms. “We can take it slow.”

“I know, but I’m tired of taking it slow. I’m tired of not going after what I want because I’m scared. I'm tired of letting this get in the way,” I said, forcing myself to bite back the tears. He looked at me with as much sympathy as he could.

“What do you want me to do?” he whispered, concern swimming in his eyes.

I sat completely up and kissed him, letting my hands roam his body. He stayed perfectly still, careful not to do anything that would upset me. Without pulling away from the kiss, I gripped his hands from behind my back and placed them on my hips. He kept them there, unmoving, as my hands went to cup his face. I relocated my lips, planting a kiss on each of his sharp cheekbones.

“Close your eyes,” I told him, placing a gentle kiss on top of each eyelid. I pressed my forehead to his, letting our noses slightly rub against each other’s. “I want you.”

Spencer opened his eyes, looking right through me, making sure that this was what was truly going through my mind. He moved his hands from my hips, putting one on my lower back and the other behind my neck. He carefully laid me back down on his bed, moving back in between my legs. I wrapped them around his body trying to show him that it was okay, but I knew him better than that and he’d still be hesitant. Because he was nothing like those men.

I looked him straight in the eyes as I whispered, “I’m alright. I trust you.”

It was his turn to be on the teary-eyed end of this conversation. I brushed away his tears before they could fall and he promised me, “I would never hurt you.”

“I know.”

For the second time that day, he bent over and kissed the scar between my breasts. He looked up at me, eyes still glistening. “You are so strong.”

I didn’t feel strong and I wanted to break down, melt into nothing in his arms, but I forced myself to stay composed. I knew it was too much to ask of him but if there was one person on this planet that I could get over his hurdle with, it was Spencer Reid.

He looked at me expectantly. I took a deep breath and said, “I’m ready.”

Slowly, even slower than before if that was possible, he pushed back into me. My head swam from the overwhelming mixture of emotions.

He gauged my reaction, and after a few moments, decided to start moving a little faster. “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” I said. “I want you to take control.”

He was about to ask me something, probably if I was sure, but he thought better of it. “Please just tell me if you need me to stop. I don’t want you to push yourself past what you’re ready for.”

“I won’t. I’ll tell you if it gets to that,” I replied.

Soon enough, he started getting faster and faster, continually checking if I was okay. I wanted him to stop worrying about me, which I knew was impossible, but put my hands in his hair and pulled him down to my chest anyway. I took away his option of looking at me, and tugged at his beautiful, chaotic, wavy locks when he hit that spot just right. In doing so, I gave myself greater access to his neck and I took full advantage, biting and sucking at various spots. I could feel him every time he thrust into me and I moved to start lightly biting at his traps, trying to stifle my moans against his skin. He kept pushing deeper and deeper into me, and I scraped my nails all the way down his back. He grunted slightly at the stinging I was sure followed, but I was too busy paying attention to the fingers that were now circling my clit. I was close to my second orgasm, but I held out, wanting to wait for Spencer. In my efforts, I had to put my head back on the pillow, looking almost directly behind me. My nails found anything they could sink into, surly leaving marks down his sides and biceps. My breath quickened as my legs started to tremble. I licked my lips and bit my bottom one, trying to hold out for any sign that he would be right behind me. His thrusts finally became sloppy and he looked down at me, seeming to know that I was waiting for him.

“Let go,” he said, the sound of his voice the missing piece I’d been waiting for. My walls clenched around him and he emptied himself, our fluids mixing together inside me. My moans were on the brink of screams as he helped us both ride out the orgasms that washed over us. Once we had both returned to earth, he just stayed hovering over me, not making a move to pull out. I just looked up at his glowing figure, letting out a sigh of relief.

“What’s that for?” His tone was gentle.

“It’s just that you are the first person I have ever actually wanted to have sex with,” I said, the realization also hitting me.

His eyes got huge and he seemed astounded. “What?”

“Yeah,” I said, giving him a shy smile. “And you helped me through one of the biggest hurdles I have ever experienced.”

He mirrored my smile pulling out, and walked to his bathroom to get a towel. The same towel I’d dried off with earlier that day. Had it really only been this morning that I was showering with him?

He spread my legs again, wiping our mess off of me. When he was done, he just dropped the towel on the floor, mumbling something about picking it up in the morning, and came to lay down next to me. He rolled onto his side to face me and winced.

“Oh yeah. How is it?”

“Fine,” he said, struggling onto his back again.

“Wrong.”

“It is fine. I just can’t lay on that side of my body.”

Without another word, I got up from my side of the bed and walked around to his side. I laid down facing him, giving him the opportunity to roll onto his good side.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm,” I replied. I gazed at him dreamily, still not fully able to comprehend what had just happened.

“I’m surprised you didn’t want control,” he whispered after a while of silence.

“I don’t want control. I’m sick of being in control. I just want to let go. I want to not have to worry about the walls I’ve put up, knowing that there is someone I trust, someone other than myself, taking care of me for the moment. I mean, sometimes I don’t even think I’m doing a good job taking care of me,” I complained, and he nodded in understanding. “I know you’re the opposite.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just mean that you like being in control. I can tell that sometimes you feel like things in your life are just slipping away from you, and this is a place where you can try to counter that feeling.”

He just nodded, seeming almost embarrassed by that, but it was nothing to be ashamed of. We laid side by side just facing each other, Spencer’s hand tracing the curves of my body. He eventually broke pattern and traced along my collarbone and down to the scar he seemed to have a slight fascination with.

“It commemorates the end of an era for me. The end of the gang, and the last time I was ever taken advantage of,” I explained.

“You don’t have to tell me this if you don’t want to.”

“No, I want to,” I took a shaky breath in and looked into his soft eyes. He knew in a general sense some of the things I’d been through, and he knew more than anyone else in my life, but I’d never told him in detail what happened. Actually, I’d never told anyone. This was something I kept closed up in the depths of my mind, but he’d already seen some of it, and I trusted him to see all of it. It might be nice, too, to not have to deal with everything alone for once. I rubbed my thumb into my palm as I started, “There was a group of men in the gang that targeted me, probably because I was young and naive. I didn’t know how gangs worked. The only thing I knew was that if you wanted to survive, you had to get to the top. The head of this clique was the right hand to Rafael, the leader of the entire gang, so angering him, refusing him, wasn’t an option. They were a messed up sort of protection system. They would come to my rescue out on the streets, only to turn back around and make me pay for it. They had me believing that I had no way out, that I would die without their protection. Plus, Rafael trusted this man with his life, so him and his buddies weren’t going anywhere. And neither was I. I had nowhere to go, so I did nothing. It’s not like Rafael was going to listen to me over him anyway. So when he passed me around to all of his friends like I was nothing more than a blunt, I didn’t fight them. I couldn’t. All fighting did was get me beat beforehand, and I figured that it was bad enough without their fists involved. After that, they would drug me and force me to …” I choked on the words and decided I’d skip over that part. I didn’t want to paint that image into his perfect memory and have him think of it every time he saw me. “Once things started going awry for the gang and we all knew we were going under soon, he and his friends got more frustrated which meant they needed an outlet more than ever. But because things were going to be over soon, I started fighting back harder than I ever had. On the night before the gang officially crumbled, he gave me this. He told me that I wasn’t going to be able to escape the sinking ship this time. I’d made it out of so many near-death experiences at that point, the Storefront Slaughterer, the house fire, gang conflicts, police conflicts, and imprisonment, unscathed, that he thought this would finally be the hill I died on. He sliced me open like the animals he hunted, hoping that I’d bleed out. For a while, this ruined me, everyday waking up and remembering everything that was associated with it,” I admitted. It made me feel like other men, good men like Spencer, would look at me and see that I was weak and broken, driving them away. He put it right in the center, which felt like he was destroying the center of my soul, draining the love straight out of my heart. “Sometimes it still does that, but I'm trying to get better. Every time I see it now, I remind myself that I survived,” I pressed his hand flat to my chest, allowing him to feel the rhythmic beating below, “that I do have a heart pumping blood through my veins, that I am only human, and that I am stronger because of it.”

He leaned in to kiss me and I faded into him, our hands still pressed against my bare chest. I was thankful he didn’t say anything, instead pulling me to him, beginning to fuse my broken pieces back together as he did so. He left a pile of moppy brown curls in my face and I reached my free hand up to play with the loose ones on the edges, not willing to risk losing the warmth of his hand on my chest by moving mine. I shifted onto my back and Spencer barely opened his eyes, wondering what I was doing. I guided his head onto my shoulder as he curled into me, both of us quickly falling asleep after the emotionally draining day.

End of the sexual abuse section. All other warnings still apply

# # # # # # # # # # # # #

I woke up to find that neither of us changed position throughout the night, sleeping soundly with our hands still stacked over my heart. I moved my other hand from his hair, brushing my fingertips over his back, over his side, over his hip bone, ending with my hand resting on his lower stomach. We had both slept nude, the sheets a disaster around us. I didn’t even notice he was awake until I felt his hair streak across my body.

“Good morning,” he said, voice groggy.

“Good morning,” I responded through a yawn.

He sat up and I saw the red marks my nails left on his body. I caressed my fingertips over the sensitive spots and got up on my knees behind him, mumbling into his hair, “I hope I didn’t scrape you up too badly.”

He reached over his shoulders and guided my hands from his back over onto his chest. I crossed them over his body, embracing him from behind.

“No. I like them,” he said way too innocently. I smiled to myself and leaned around him to kiss his temple before I untangled myself from him.

We both got dressed (barely), and operated our day as usual. The mandatory two weeks was coming to a close soon, so we both absorbed as much of this peaceful alternate universe as we could. Hotch was right. We both desperately needed time off.

But there is no better way to end ‘vacation time’ than to be in a panic.

Ever since that night, we both slept together in his bed. I think we both really enjoyed having the safety and comfort of the other around as much as possible.

Sunday night before we were supposed to return to work on Monday, I woke up to an empty bed. I listened to see if I heard Spencer somewhere else in the apartment, and when I didn’t, I got up to check. I went to the bathroom, the kitchen, even his tiny balcony and he was nowhere to be found.

“Spencer?” I called out.

No response.

“Spencer!”

Where the hell is he?

My mind started to work frantically and I looked around for my phone. The adrenaline coursing through me made my hands shake as I dialed his number. I took a couple deep breaths, knowing that he was probably fine and would be back soon.

That thought changed when I heard a faint ringing in the background.

No, no, no, no.

I raced to where I heard the ringing, finding his phone left under a stack of papers on his desk. My mind went to the worst places of what could have happened, what could be happening. I quickly threw on my sweatshirt and slipped on a pair of shoes, and hurried out the door. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was thinking I’d do. It’s not like I could just wander the streets looking for him. I got about halfway down the stairs, practically running Spencer over.

“Aundreya! What are you doing?”

“I could ask you the same question!” I retorted, exasperated.

“I couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to bother you with my restlessness. I just walked down to the street for some fresh air,” he replied. My mind was working 100 miles an hour so I couldn’t gauge how truthful that was.

“What the hell!’” I whacked his arm. “I was worried and you left your phone in the apartment.”

“I’m sorry. I thought I’d be back before you woke up,” he said. He sounded honest enough and I couldn’t think of anything else he’d be doing. Except…

“Show me your arms,” I demanded. He sighed but rolled up his sleeves. I examined his arms and then his eyes, looking for any sign of drug use. I forced him to empty his pockets, making sure he didn’t have any drugs still on him.

“I promise you that I was not taking dilaudid,” he said. I looked straight into his eyes, trying to detect any hint of a lie.

When I found none I said, “Alright. Let’s get back upstairs. We can still try and get another four hours of sleep before we have to wake up again to go to work.”

When we got back to his room, I was still shaking from the adrenaline. Luckily, the release from knowing that nothing had happened made me quite tired. He slipped into bed next to me.

“You know, I really enjoy work and the people we work with, but I have to say these last two weeks with you were amazing,” he murmured.

“I agree. I’m going to miss this,” I replied.

“Mhm.”

“No one can know about this.”

“I know. I don’t want them to.”

I squinted my eyes open. “I know we’d get into trouble, but why wouldn’t you want them to know?”

“I like this space we’ve created. I don’t want anyone else encroaching on it, tainting it. I like having this just be between you and me.”

You and me.

I liked the sound of that.

Taglist (open)

@justanothetfangirl

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 59

Warnings: Profanity

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @ocfairygodmother​

A hot shower and a three hour nap -aided by a mixture of antidepressants, anxiety meds, and pain killers washed down by three shots of tequila- has done Tyler a world of good.  Waking up feeling energized; still riding the high of the morning’s adrenaline rush and relatively pain free. Nothing more than a dull throb in the deepest part of the shoulder; some discomfort and audible cracking and popping when he stretches and manipulates it. But it’s bearable, unlike the agony that’s been a near constant fixture in his life for the past couple of years. While the initial replacement surgery and rehab had both been complete successes, a full recovery had eluded him. It had been his own fault, of course; the surgeon’s orders  had been to alter his lifestyle and to avoid the very ‘activity’ that had caused so much damage in the first place. That ‘advice’ had lasted all of four months, until Nik had called, desperately needing his help and he’d been unable to resist both the lure of the game and the promise of damn good money.

He’d attempted to walk away several times in as many years, fully intending to commit himself to being a family man with his own little side business. Content with the motions of being the one to stay home with the kids while his wife either went back to school or found a new career she’d be happy with. But sometimes the best laid plans don’t work out. Not long after an early term miscarriage when the twins were two and a half, she’d  gotten pregnant with Declan DESPITE being on birth control and coming to a mutual decision to wait until both Millie and the twins were in school full time before once again trying to add to their family. It had been completely unexpected, and off of their previous plans regarding their home life quickly went by the wayside. The job was easy money; he was confident in his skills and his abilities and Nik had promised to offer only the easiest of gigs.

That changed quickly. What should have been an ‘in and out’ assassination of a key political figure in El Salvador turning  into a four day shit show that had him falling into dangerous enemy territory and almost needing to be extracted himself. After that, he’d said ‘fuck it’ and began taking whatever Nik brought to the table. And his physical health began to pay the price.

He orders a meal from room service and cracks open the bottle of whisky in the mini bar. He’s stuck to his word; staying sober while actually ON the job and not ever indulging during his downtime. Unlike the old days, he’s able to both pace himself AND stop after just a couple. A far cry from the guy who’d polish off an entire bottle and would be either too hung over to get up with his kids in the morning, or already passed out in the early evening; missing school events and extra curricular activities that he’d promised he’d attend. He refuses to be that guy again; the one who’d almost single handedly ruined his marriage because he put the bottle and the pain meds at the top of his priority list; allowing his addictions to take precedence over his family. The one who’d rightfully had his ass kicked out and then spent the next six months in a drunken stupor.

Never again. Never again will he be ‘that guy’. The absolute failure as a husband and a father. He can control it now; no longer needing to silence the inner demons or lessen the emotional suffering by getting. The want not nearly as powerful. Before it had been a way of life; no day complete without at least the smallest buzz. Now it’s a matter of convenience. Even enjoyment. A feeling of satisfaction and relief when the whisky finally hits the tongue and he experiences the initial burn in the back of his throat. After that, one drink doesn’t make him crave more. Instead satisfying his palate with bottle water and Gatorade and terrible coffee made in the hotel provided maker.

He’s lounging in the middle of the bed in a pair of boxer briefs when Koen finally returns. Back resting against the headboard and his legs stretched out; laptop resting on his thighs and a plate of food in his hands. And he only gives a brief glance towards the door when Koen stomps in and allows it to slam shut behind him.  Offering no greeting, calmly and casually eating from the enormous serving of goat curry and naan bread,  eyes never leaving the video playing on the computer; his three oldest on the plane, reading HIM a story and every so often having mispronounced words gently and lovingly corrected by their mother. And the grin that plays on his lips is double fold; pride and love for those beautiful and intelligent little human beings he’d had a hand in creating, and amusement at Koen’s mutters and complaints and strings of profanity.

“Look at you,” his friend grumbles. “All fucking relaxed and shit. Cocky, shit eating  grin on your face.”

Tyler’s attention  never leaves  the laptop. A different video this time; Addie giving a real, genuine smile when she has her chin tickled. That one brings the prick of tears to his eyes. She’s still so tiny and so fragile, but she is...in fact...growing up.

“Why do you swear all the time?” He finally asks. “Makes you sound stupid. Find another fucking adjective.”

Koen smirks. “Well aren’t you just the clever one. Leave it to your brain damaged ass to remember THAT.”

“It’s my short term memory that’s fucked. Although I do remember threatening to throw your ass off the balcony. Keep calling me stupid or brain damaged, and it’ll happen.”

“Don’t be so goddamn sensitive. What’cha watching?”

“Just some videos Esme sent me. Of the kids. I’ve got two five year olds and a six year old that can read better than I can. How’d the fuck that ever happen?”

“Well their momma’s pretty damn smart. Maybe just be thankful their brains at least took after her.”

Tyler frowns, then flips Koen the middle finger.  “I meant that they’re practically babies still and they can read like they’re a lot older. They’re so smart. So fucking smart.”

“Definitely gonna be trouble makers when they’re older. Imagine them as teenagers? Especially Millie? With that mouth of hers?”

“That mouth of hers is going to keep trouble AWAY from her. She says what she wants; fuck anyone’s feelings. Someone gets mouthy with her when she’s older, she’ll put them in their place. And if her own mouth doesn’t do it, her right hook will. She's a savage that kid.”

“Best of both mom and dad if you ask me. And look at you just kicking back. Acting like  you didn’t just butcher two people this morning.”

Tyler shrugs. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for them?”

“Just thought maybe you’d be a little more...I don’t know...grumpy.”

“Why would I? They got what was coming to them. And they deserved a lot worse. You think that was brutal? Wait until I have more time and more space.”

“You’re starting to scare me a bit, mate. You’re enjoying this a little too much, I reckon.”

“Well if it was  your family being threatened, you’d enjoy it too. You know what kind of things they would have done to my wife and kids? What I did is tame compared to what they had planned. I’ve heard the threats; you haven’t. It’s nightmare inducing shit. Let’s leave it at that.”

“That why you been freaking out in your sleep? Waking up barely able to breathe and shit? Scared the crap out of me the first couple of times.”

“It’s fucking with my head a bit,”  Tyler admits. “Kind of hard not to let it mess with you. Trust me when I say that what I read? What was said about Esme? About the kids? I don’t wish any of it on my worst enemy.”   It makes bile rise in his throat just thinking about it and he places the laptop on the bed and reaches for the bottle of Gatorade sitting on the nightstand. Downing half in order to rid himself of the bitterness and the burn.   “Heard you guys had a bit of trouble.”

Koen scowls, pausing in the middle of taking off his gear. “Don’t get all cocky again, young man.”

“Not getting cocky. Just repeating what I heard. Didn’t you guys leave the same time I did?”

“Your point?”

“No point.” A slow, sly grin spreads across his face. “Just making an observation. I mean, I was alone and had to take out two people. By myself. Took me twenty minutes. And that includes me getting there AND back. You know all the shit I’ve done since then?”

“Nope. But I bet you’re gonna tell me, aren’t ya.”

“Took a shower, ate, slept for three hours. Now I’m eating again. And you’re getting back. Just now. It’s almost six. In the evening.”

“You’ve kept yourself busy. You jerk off sometime in there too?”

“Twice, actually.”

“Your lazy ass could have handled some more work. Instead you’ve been here slacking.”

“I’d done my bit for the day. Next time be faster.”

“Easy for you to say,” Koen scoffs. “Mister ‘I have all the experience’.  You now, we could have used your help out there.”

“Oh I’m sorry. I didn’t hear that. Can you repeat it?”

“Don’t be a little prick."

“I swear you just said that you could have used MY help. I swear you just said that.”

“You’re asking for an ass kicking, you know that?”

“Funny how you wanted my help when this morning you were acting I like I didn’t know what the fuck In was doing. It’s almost like...I don’t know...like you’re actually admitting you were wrong.”

“I ain’t admitting shit. Just saying we could have used your help.”

“Why? Apparently I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I am five seconds away from punching you in the face,” Koen growls. “And your wife won’t be too happy if I mess that face up. So…”

“Just swallow your pride and admit you’re wrong, mate. That you shouldn’t have underestimated me. Get it off your chest. It’ll make you feel better.”

“Make you feel better, you mean. I’d rather stroke your cock than your ego.”

“Well you’re definitely never getting anywhere near my cock so it’s my ego or nothing.”

“Fine,” Koen sighs heavily. “I underestimated you. I will never again second guess your skills or your abilities. But I still think you’re a brain damaged fuck.”

“I’ll take it,” Tyler says, then sits the now empty plate and Gatorade bottle on the nightstand and swings his legs over the edge of the bed. “How did it go in the end?” he asks, groaning and grimacing as he stands. Forty starting to feel like it’s closer to death, never mind middle age.

“They’re dead. So it ended on a good note. Put up a hell of a fight. Rata took an elbow to the face and went crazy. Beat the guy to death. You would have been impressed. I think he’s a natural.”

“And you?”

“I prefer the simple things in life. Pull a trigger and it’s done. I’ll leave the more hands on, gruesome shit for you two. Gotta date or something?”

“Going to the airport.” He slips into a pair of jeans and a simple black t-shirt. “Going to see my wife and kids.”

“Think that’s a good idea?”

Tyler sighs in exasperation. “Don’t fucking start this shit again.”

“Just if anyone is following you and you lead them right to your family…”

“Anil gave me the okay. Said he’s got tons of guys keeping their eyes on things. Yaz is sending a couple of people with me. So fuck off with this overprotective bullshit.”

“Now you know how your wife feels.”

“I have a reason to worry about her. A LOT of reasons. Damn good ones too. If you’re going to ride my ass so hard, at least pull my fucking hair.”

Koen smirks. “You’re into that kinda shit, aren’t ya. I knew it. Always knew you were a freak.”

“As much as I’d like to stay here and discuss my sex life with you, I’ve got better things to do.”  He attaches his holster to his right hip, gathers up his wallet and hotel key card and both phones.

“You better not come back here with that ‘’just got fucked’ grin on your face,” Koen warns. “Because I will beat your ass.”

“You’ll be too busy beating something else.” Tyler retorts, right hand mimicking jerking off. Chuckling when Koen throws a shoe at him when he steps out the door.

****

It’s only a fifteen minute drive to the airport and he already knows everything there is to know about the young tech that Yaz has recruited to ‘escort’ him. It’s annoying enough not to be able to something as simple as driving, but to have to stuck with someone that is overly chatty and friendly is nothing short of torture.  He’s never been a social creature; unlike his wife who makes friends easily and never shies away from making conversation with just about anyone, including strangers in the grocery store or out on the street. She’d been the first...and only...chatty person that hasn’t gotten on his nerves.

Her name is Riya and she’s twenty one; last of eight kids, her mother and father both extremely successful and wealthy business people in Dubai. The so-called ‘black sheep’ of the family; all but disowned when she’d decided to attend an American university  -Georgetown- and  make her home there. Even if he HAD have been talker, he wouldn’t have had the chance to offer up much commentary; her mouth running a mile a minute as she nervously and awkwardly spills even the smallest details of her life.

He doesn’t have the heart to tell her to stop her. The old Tyler...the one that existed only six short years ago...would have already snapped and told her to shut the fuck up. But who he is now...the man he is...is different in so many ways. Far more patient. Considerate. Empathetic, even. And the father of a little girl that is the very definition of a chatterbox. Who’s bright eyed and bubbly and talkative from the time she opens her eyes in the morning until the moment she closes them at night. And he wouldn’t want some asshole speaking to his own daughter like that, so why would he?

“How long HAVE you been married for?” Riya asks, and he can hear Esme’s voice in his head; reminding him that not everyone is out to get him. That their curiosity is often just that. They’re genuinely interested in him and want to be his friend.

“Six and a half years.” Sometimes it doesn’t feel nearly that long. Other times, considering all of the bad shit they’ve been through and the time they didn’t think they’d make it. It seems a hell of a lot longer.

“And five kids, right? In only six and a half years?”

“We’ve really been together for seven. Well, almost seven. But yeah. Five kids.”

“They must be really close together.”

“First three are. My daughter is six, the boys are five.”

“Twins? Identical or…?”

“Fraternal. Millie...my daughter...was only two months when we found out they were on their way. They were kind of a surprise, needless to say. We have another boy after them; he’ll be two in a few months. And we have a baby girl. Almost eight weeks.”

“Just a little one.”

Tyler nods. “Very little. Very tiny. My wife is, too, Small. But feisty as hell. And tough. Toughest and strongest person I know.”

“Yaz said you met on the job.”

“Yeah, we got sent out on the same gig, To Bangladesh. Actually had to pretend we were married.”

Riya laughs. “Really?”

“First time I ever got mixed up in something like THAT. It’s a long story, but in the end, my fake wife ended up becoming my real wife.”  He doesn’t feel the need to fill in the gaps between beginning and end; Dhaka and what happened there has never been kept off the radar. Word travels fast in the dame, and every single details has been made available; everything from Mahajan fucking him over to Gaspar’s betrayal to  his near death experience.

“Probably the best ending to a job you’ve ever had,” Riya comments.

“Took me nearly dying and her sticking her fingers in my neck to keep me alive, but yeah, in the end things turned out pretty damn good. What about you? You got a family? Other than the ones that don’t speak to you?”

“Nope. It’s just me. It’s hard finding someone that understands this kind of life. Who won’t judge you for it. And the people you meet through this life aren’t exactly the settling down types. As much as I want to believe I’ll meet someone, I probably should just prepare myself to be alone for the long haul.”

“There’s gotta be someone out there. Either in the game or someone who won’t be bothered by it.”

Fuck. He’s starting to sound like his wife. Years spent listening to her reason with her little sister over the phone that there has to be a guy -or girl- out there that would be into her; a full time student with five cats and a host of mental health issues and an extremely toxic family. Or hearing her talk Ovi through his personal issues; always chasing the wrong girl and left brokenhearted in the end. Normally he just stays out if; offering shrugs of the shoulders or a simple nod or a head shake when Esme attempts to get him involved.

“Maybe there is,” Riya sighs. “Do you have any single friends?”

“My single friends are single for a reason. And I’m a lot older than you and they would be too. So…”

“What about Ovi? He’s your friend. He’s young. Is he single?”

“He’s actually more my son than my friend”

“Son?” Her brow furrows in confusion. “How…?”

“Another long story. We ended up taking in him, giving him a proper home, a family. But yeah. He’s single.”

“Do you think  maybe you could…?”

Tyler laughs. “Yeah...no.  Just no. I’m not trying to be a dick about it, but I don’t get involved with this kind of thing. That, and I’ve got some pretty serious shit I’m dealing with and it’s definitely NOT the time even if  I WAS  the kind that would help. I mean, my wife likes to stick her nose where it doesn’t belong. You could always ask her to talk to him or whatever. I’m not who you want. Trust me.”

“Do you think she would? Put in a good word for me?”

“I guess,” he shrugs. “I don’t know. Look, I’m not the sociable type. So I don’t mean to come across as an asshole, but…”

“You’re honest,” she says. “I heard that about you. That you don’t say much, but you mean what you say and don’t pull any punches.”

“I can be a little harsh,” Tyler admits. “So I’ve been told, anyway.  I’ve bet you heard a lot of things about me.”

She nods.

“Probably not a lot of good things.”

“More good than bad. But the bad is pretty...well...bad.  I don’t know; you don’t seem that awful to me. I mean, how awful can someone be when they have a wife and five kids? No woman would stick around long enough to have one kid, never mind that many.”

“Never thought of it that way. I’m not an easy person to live with. I’ve put her through a lot. But maybe I’m not as terrible as I think I am.”

“I don’t think she’d still be around if you were. If she’s as tough and strong as you say she is, she would have hauled ass a long time ago.”

****

He’s still thinking of those words when they arrive at the airport; pulling right onto the tarmac behind the smaller hangar he’d flowed into only two days before. It feels like a lifetime has passed since then. Since he’s stood in front of his home, kissing and hugging his wife and kids goodbye and wondering if he’d ever see them again. With how successful the morning had been, he wants to be more confident in regards to the eventual outcome. But he knows how things work; each kill will get harder and messier and more complicated. Mahajan will clue into his involvement and up the stakes even more. One good day doesn’t mean you can let your guard down. Not in the slightest.

Riya waits in the car, but both drivers and passengers of the three vehicles that had followed them climb out. Staggering themselves along the tarmac, eyes surveying the surroundings; bullet proof vests under their clothing, weapons at the ready.  The jet’s already arrived and the stairs being placed in front of the open door when he crosses the distances between it and the car; less than ten feet away when the first little body appears. Millie with her ever present messy hair and those Spiderman sandals; an Incredible Hulk t-shirt paired with a frilly -and glittery- pink and purple tutu over a pair of camo leggings.  Her head down at first and a slight frown on her face; shrugging a unicorn and sloth themed backpack onto her shoulders and one foot tentatively checking the strength and support of the stairs in front of her. And when she finally does glance up, the look is one of shock at first.  Her brow furrowed and those huge blue eyes wide and disbelieving. Then quickly widening and sparkling when realization sets in; a brilliant smile spreading across her face.

“Daddy!” She shrieks, and immediately forgets about her discomfort on the stairs, rushing down them and leaping from the second last one; not even stumbling or missing a single stride. “Daddy!”

Tyler catches her as she throws herself at him, effortlessly scooping her up into his arms. Feeling those little arms immediately circle his neck, squeezing as tight as they can and how soft her cheeks and her forehead are against his lips and how impossibly light she seems.

“You said we wouldn’t see you  for a few days!” Her tone has a slight scolding quality to it.

“I thought I’d surprise you guys. I got things finished nice and early so I could come and say hi. I missed you,” he lays a hand on the back of her head and presses a kiss to her temple and then her brow. “I missed you so much.”

“I miss you too. This is the best surprise EVER.”

“Even better than getting Saju as a late birthday gift?”

"I love Saju, but I love you more. You’re my daddy. And I was worried about you. About the bad guys getting a hold of you.”

“The bad guys don’t stand against me. You know that.”

“Daddy!” TJ hollers, and soon both he and his brother -and two dogs- are racing towards him. And with Millie still on his hip, he drops down to one knee, laughing when the force of those of those small bodies - and all of the power and excitement and love inside of them- knock him off balance and he finds himself on his ass on the damp, cold tarmac. Gathering all three kids into his arms and pulling them tightly into him.

“I knew you could do it,” Tanner’s face is buried in the side of his neck, tears hot against his skin. “I knew you could beat up the bad guys and still come and see us! I missed you. I missed you so much.”

“I’ve only been gone two days, mate.”

“Doesn’t matter if it’s only two hours. I still missed you.”

“I missed you too. I missed ALL of you.”  

He presses his lips to each forehead, returns each tight, fierce hug. Still sitting on the ground as he listens to all three speak at once’ excited tales about what they’d done on the plane and the movies they’d watched and the naps they’d taken and the food they’d eaten, Millie showing off her matching bracelet.  And she moves out of the way when Delcan arrives; a beaming smile on his face and a ‘miss daddy’ in his tiny voice before throwing his arms around Tyler’s neck. And he runs his fingers through his son’s silky red hair and showers his cheeks with kisses and holds him as tight as Declan will let him. And even now he’s not sure he deserves all of this. The adoration and the unconditional love and their blind faith and trust in him.

“Good to see ya,” Kyle says in greeting, placing Addie -in her car seat carrier- on the ground beside him, then offering a hand to help Tyler to his feet and giving him a one armed hug. “Especially in one piece. Heard today was the day. Must have went okay. You’re standing here.”

“Went better than I thought it would. I’ll take a good start over a bad one any day.”   He drops to a knee once more, smiling at his baby girl as he unfastens the straps of the carrier.  “Hey sweet pea...hey little peanut…” he scoops that tiny body into his arms, settling her against his chest; a forearm under her bum, hand on the back of her head. “Daddy missed you. He missed you so much.”

“What are you even doing here?” Esme inquires as she joins them, a playful scolding tone to her voice and a look of pure relief on her face.

He grins down at her. “I guess crossing your fingers worked.”

“I guess it did,” she says, and he’s able to keep Addie pressed securely against him with one arm as he wraps the other around his wife; pulling her tightly into him, lips meeting her temple. “I know it’s only been two days,” her voice is muffled against his chest, both arms around his waist. “But I have missed you so much.”

“I missed you too. It’s felt longer than two days.”

She nods, pulling away slightly to look up at him, tears sparking in her eyes. “I was so worried about you. Everything went okay?”

“Better than I thought it would. I’ll call you later and tell you all about it. Fill you in on all the gory details.”

“Yes, because I just love your stories of mutilation and homicide. You’re okay?” Her hands rub at his sides. “You look okay.”

“I’m fine. Not a scratch on me.”

“Guess you haven’t lost your touch after all. And to think you were worried about that.”  Her face turns serious, the amount of tears in her eyes increasing. “I was so fucking worried about you, Tyler.”

“I know you were.” He presses a kiss to her forehead. “It’s okay, baby. Don’t cry. Everything’s fine.”

“I’m just relieved. That I didn’t just have to take your for it and I got to see it...you...with my own eyes. I’m proud of you. I’m so proud of you.”

“Now you’re going to make ME cry.”

“Did you get the videos? Did you watch them?”

“I did. And I’m slightly concerned that my six year and five year olds are already smarter than I am.”

“I don’t think they’re anywhere near being that smart yet, but they are crazy intelligent. Almost scary HOW intelligent. We are going to have our work cut out for us, I think. Having three brainiacs in the house?”

“Four if you count their mom. Where do you think they get it from? My looks, your brain. We’ve been through this.”

“Is that some sneaky, backhanded way of calling me ugly?” she teases.

“Baby, you’re the most beautiful woman in the world, you know that. And I love you,” he places a soft kiss to her lips. “So much.”

“I love you too. And did you see Addie? Her smile? Her REAL smile? She smiles exactly like you.  Her eyes crinkle and everything. So there. She DID get something from you, after all. Are you okay?” She reaches up and lays a hand on the side of her face, running her thumb over his lips. “With what happened? You’re alright?”

“I’m okay. I just missed you guys. It’s been harder than I thought it would.”

“It’s been six months. You had a whole different life for half a year. I’d be worried if going back to this WASN’T hard.”

“It’s not just that. It’s...I don’t know….” Tyler shrugs. “I can’t talk about it right now. Not with the kids around.”

“Is it about what you did?”

He nods. “About what I did. How I felt about it. How I DIDN’T feel. We’ll talk later. I can’t stay long; just in case someone is keeping an eye on me. You guys will be safer at the house than you will be standing out here talking to me.”

“Thank you. For making the effort to get here.  The kids needed that; to see you. I needed that. I really needed to see you. I needed to make sure you were okay.”

“I needed to see you, too. I was worried I’d never get the chance again. And I wish I could stay longer. Or go to the house with you guys. I’d give anything to be able to do that. Anything.”

She gives a small, understanding smile. “I know you would.”

“I gotta go.” He holds Addie out in front of him, kissing her forehead. “I love you, little peanut. Stop growing up so fast. You might be the last one.”

“We’ll talk about that later too,” Esme says, and he leans down to press a kiss to her temple before placing Addie in her arms. “I love you. We’ll see you in a few days, right?”

“Yep.” He attempts a reassuring smile, then kisses her; long and soft and sweet. “I love you. Call me when the kids are asleep. We’ll talk about stuff.”

“Okay,” she agrees, squeezing him tightly and burying her face in her chest once more when he gives her one last hug. Holding onto him longer and tighter than before.  Unable to control the tears that trickle down her face.

****

“You should see this place,” Esme says four hours later, after all the kids have finally settled in their rooms  and have managed to fall asleep. “Remember when we stayed at Mahajan’s? What that place was like? Well this Mahajan’s on steroids. I am serious. Ten bedrooms. TEN! And eleven bathrooms! Who cleans all those bathrooms? We have three and we can’t keep up half the time. And the master ensuite is bigger than our entire bedroom. And our room at home is what I consider huge.”

He can’t hold but smile at the youthful exuberance in her voice. He knows she’s exhausted; physically and emotionally. Not just from a twelve hour flight with five kids, but with everything that’s gone down within the past month and a half.  But he can hear the difference; being in Mumbai and closer to him has lifted some of the stress and worry, replacing it with relief and at least some peace of mind.

“And you should the shit this guy has,” she continues. “I’ve never seen anything like it. An underground garage full of insanely expensive exotic cars. A home theatre, indoor and outdoor pools and jacuzzis, his own tennis and basketball courts. Who needs all this stuff? I thought we had a lot of stuff. This? This is our stuff times a thousand.”

“We have a lot of stuff...normal stuff...because we have five kids. He has a lot of stuff because he doesn't have anyone or anything else to spend his money on.”

“”I mean, we have money too. We’re not exactly poor. Not anymore, anyway.”

“We don’t have  his kind of money, babe. What we have in the bank is like a month’s salary to him.”

“We also don’t buy stuff just to buy and have stuff. This is just insane to me. And the animals. It’s not one or two, Tyler. It’s its own goddamn zoo. He’s got tigers and monkeys and peacocks and a sloth. And snakes. So many snakes. Don’t even get me started in the snakes. All I have to say is thank god they’re far enough away from the house and securely contained. Because you know my fear of snakes.”

“I don’t know where this fear comes from. We’ve only had one snake in the house so far”

“In  my shoe!” She reminds him. “Which I tried to stick my foot into, thank you very much.”

“What was one of the first things I told you when we first moved back to Australia? Especially where we moved TO. Check your shoes before you put them on. If you listened to me more often…”

“What if it bit me?”

“You would have lived because it wasn’t poisonous. And it was a baby. The way you fucking screamed, you would have though it was an anaconda trying to eat one or two of the kids.”

“I don’t like snakes. I told this when we first lived there. That I’m scared of them but I loved you enough to live somewhere where there’s tons of them. And you promised you’d be the one to handle them.  And the spiders.”

“Which I have. And the dingoes. Have I let a dingo get you?”

“You’re probably waiting for the opportunity to feed me to one.”

“Baby, if I wanted to get rid of you, there’s about a hundred different ways I could do it. And feeding you to a dingo is NOT one of them. And I don’t want to get rid of you, so…”  He stretches his legs out in front of him, resting his bare feet on the top railing of the balcony. “...you’re safe.”

“What I don’t understand is our children’s fascination and love of snakes and spiders. If you didn’t encourage them to pick the damn things up and let them crawl all over them…”

“They’re not dangerous. They can’t hurt the kids. Let’s not raise pussies, okay? They have to learn about stuff, yeah? Let them learn. As long as they’re not in danger, what’s the worst that could happen? What are they going to do? Want a Huntsman as a pet?”

“I will refuse to step foot in the house again,” she declares. “I will move out. I will live with Ovi in the guest house. If you EVER let the kids do anything like that, I swear…”

“I’d miss you too much. I know what lines I can’t cross.”

“Speaking of lines you shouldn’t cross. Who’s the girl you were with tonight?”

“Are you serious right now?”

“What? You thought I wouldn’t notice you left with her?”

Tyler grins. “Esme, are you jealous?”

“Do I have a reason to be?”

“I kind of like this. You getting all jealous. You getting all worked up. It’s kinda hot, actually. And no, you don’t have a reason to be jealous. She’s young enough to be my kid.”

“Maybe she likes older men.”

“Good for her. But I like you, so…”

“So who is she?”

“Riya. She works for Nik. She’s from Dubai. Apparently her folks are loaded and basically disowned her for going to school in the States and picking the job she did. Sound familiar?”

“That DOES seem a little too close to home for my liking.”

“She actually wants to talk to you.”

“Oh how cute,” Esme scoffs. “She wants my permission before she bangs my husband. Well at least this is asking before she tries.”

“Only person I want to bang is you. And she wants to talk to you about Ovi.”

“Ovi? What about him?”

“You’re the one who can’t stay out of other peoples’ business, right? You like meddling in relationships.”

“Pardon me? It’s advising. Not meddling. Advising.”

“She wants you to hook her up.”

“With Ovi?”

“Are you following along at all or have I been talking to myself?”

“I mean, it’s Ovi. He’s like my kid. No. Scratch that. He IS my kid. I can’t set him up./”

“Why not?”

“Do you want me setting Millie up? Or TJ? Or Tanner?”

“First off, Millie is six. The boys are five. It’s not the same thing. Just do it. Put in a good word for her.”

“So now you’re encouraging me to meddle? That’s a first for you.”

“I’m encouraging you to help a poor, desperate girl out. And Ovi too. He’s been acting like a little bitch since Chloe took off and I can’t can’t take much more. So do me a solid and save what’s left of my sanity and help Ovi get laid.”

“Okay, wow. THAT’S a little disturbing. Isn’t that supposed to be your thing? Anything sex related? You’re a guy. You find him a piece of ass. Call one of your hoes from your old  little black book.”

“Actually, I didn’t have anyone in India,” Tyler admits.

“You poor baby,” she scoffs. “My heart bleeds for you. And find. I will put in a good word for this girl. But if you want him to get laid, you figure out how to make it happen. And don’t sample the goods, either.”

“Only goods I want to sample are yours. So why don’t you come over here and let me.”

“You’re hurting, aren’t you,” Esme laughs.

“A little. It’s been forever.”

“It’s been two days, Tyler.”

“Feels like it’s been forever. What are you wearing?”

“Are you serious right now? You want to have phone sex?”

“You can’t come here and I can’t go there, so…”

“I’m wearing a lovely combination of premenstrual syndrome, baby puke, and dog hair.”

“Now THAT’S sexy. PMS, huh? So things are going back to normal that way.”

“It was going to happen eventually,” Esme sighs. “After the next one, they can take everything out. I’m done. I won’t need any of it  anymore. They can have it. If I never have a period again, that’s fine by me, I’d say it’s good for you too because you won’t have to put up with my extreme bitchiness once a month, but you have two daughter who will go through this one day.”

He frowns “Can Addie at least get to her first birthday before we talk about this shit?”

“It’s going to happen, Tyler. I mean it could happen to Millie in a few years. I was ten.”

“Esme, for fuck sakes. I don’t…”

“Sorry, honey. I hate to break your heart like this. But one day it’s going to happen. And one day she’s even going to want to have sex and need to go on birth control and…”

“Do you want a divorce? Because bringing this shit up is how you get a divorce.”

“I love you,  Tyler James. You’re my favorite human And I love how you can impale someone with a garden rake but you can’t handle the thought of your daughter maturing. You’re so fucking cute. You’re so cute, I’d have phone sex with you right now if my cramps weren’t so bad. I am telling you, after the next one? My body is done. That’s it. Take it all out. It’s not needed anymore.”

“Next one? I thought we weren’t going to talk about that until I got home.”

“I made the decision. Without you.”

He smirks. “Oh, so you mean like you usually do about everything.”

“Pretty much. If you really want another one…”

“You gotta want it too. Not just me. I don’t want you doing it just because I want it.”

“I do want to. One more. An even number.  And if something happens like it did with the one that should have been between the twins and Declan…”

Tyler sighs. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“We stop if something goes wrong. Because once was bad enough. Well twice, if I count the one with Mark.  I can’t keep having my heart broken like that. And if we can’t successfully carry another one, we just stop. Okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees. “And it wasn’t fun for me, either. Going through that. It was my baby too.”

“I know. But you were amazing and so good with me and it made me love you even more. I’m worried about you, Tyler. There was something in your eyes tonight. When you talked about what you did today. I can’t put my finger on it. I just know what I saw and that I’ve never seen it before. It wasn’t old Tyler OR new Tyler. I don’t know who it was.”

“Before I tell you what’s going on, I need to tell you what  I did. And I know you hate hearing the gory details. But I need to tell you.”

“Okay…” There’s a slight rustle of the phone as she shifts positions in bed. “...I’m not going to sleep for a couple days after this, am I.” While she accepts and supports what he does, she draws the line at hearing the details. She’d seen enough in Dhaka, and once that was over, so was her desire to ever see -or think about- another drop of blood again. “Did you shoot them?”

“No. I didn’t shoot them. I was more...hands on.”

“Like your bare hands, or…?”

“Sort of. I kinda slit a guy’s throat and gutted another one. Literally.”

“Okay…”

“And I liked it. I liked doing it. And I’ve never liked doing it before. I killed because I had to. Because I had to keep myself alive. Now I’m doing it because I WANT to. Because I enjoy it. That’s fucked, yeah? Tell me that’s fucked. That I’M fucked.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s fucked. And I definitely won’t say you’re fucked. And I can’t say I’m totally shocked. Or shocked at all, to be honest.”

“Maybe we’re both fucked,” he says. “And not in the good, fun way either.”

“Well before you question our levels of depravity and insanity, let’s look at this for what it is. This isn’t a normal job. This isn’t what you’re used to. You’re used to not having any emotional ties to what you do. You go in, you do what you have to do, you get out. That’s it. You don’t know these people, you don’t know the people they’re hurting, none of that. You’re not connected to any of them, right?”

“Right.”

“Well this time you DO have a connection. A very personal one. These people threatened your family. And I don’t know exactly what the threats are, but they must be pretty bad if you won’t tell me.  I mean, people are saying horrible, twisted things about people you love. About me and your kids. It doesn’t get more fucked up than that; threatening children. Addie’s one of them and she’s just a baby. What kind of fucked person says shit like that about a baby?”

“Evil people,” Tyler concludes. “Really fucking evil.”

“And you’re pissed. To your very core. I see if in your eyes, Tyler. I hear it in your voice. How angry you actually are. How disgusted you are. And you have every right to feel those things. This is as personal as it gets. And you wonder why you enjoyed it? I’d enjoy it too if someone threatened you and I got to kill them. I’d enjoy every fucking second.”

“It just makes me feel like such a dick,” he admits. “Like I’m a horrible fucking person. I made the one guy look at me. Made him watch me while I slit his throat. And he recognized me. He knew who I was. And I liked that he did. That my face was the last thing he saw.”

“And that doesn’t make you a bad person,” Esme says. “A bad person wouldn’t  be worried that it makes him a bad person. You’re a good person, Tyler. I know you struggle to see that. But I see it. And I know it. I know who you are away from all of this. I know how loving you are. How gentle you are. What you did today...what you felt or didn’t feel...that doesn’t erase who you are or what you’re like away from all of this.”

He blinks back tears “This is fucked. This all so fucked.”

“You’re doing what you have to do. You’re stopping them before they can do the same thing to us. Or worse.”

“Definitely worse. Much, much worse.”

“Do you want to tell me what the threats were or…”

“No. You don’t need to hear that. You don’t need that shit in your head. It’s bad enough it’s in mine. That it’s  probably never going to leave.”

“We’ll work on that,” Esme promises. “Your brain. When we get home. We’ll work on it TOGETHER. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you, Tyler. So much. And I wish I could be right there with you. I know this isn’t easy for you. That you’re struggling with so many things. But I love you and I’m so proud of you.”

He swallows around the lump of emotion sitting in this throat and using a forearm to wipe the tears from his face. “I love you. And this sucks. Being away from you. You’re so close but it’s like you’re so fucking far.”

“If you need me there, I can find a way. And I will. You know me. I’m pretty sneaky and tenacious on a good day.”

He gives a small chuckle. “Yeah, you are.”

“And there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. So if you need me there….”

“I’m okay. For now anyway. Stay with the kids. They need you.”

“So do you. Even if you won’t admit it.”

“I do. Need you. But they need you more.”

“Promise me you’ll call if it gets worse. If you change your mind. Because I’ll figure it out. How to get to you and stay with you. Promise me.”

“I promise. I’ll call you if I need you.”

“Get some sleep, okay? It’s been a long day. Call  me in the morning. Just so I know how you’re doing.”

“I will.”

“And thank you. For showing up tonight. Seeing you did a world of good for the kids. Especially Tanner. He’s finally smiling again. And he has such a beautiful smile. YOUR smile. And it did me a world of good too. To see you. I miss you, And your arms. It was really nice to be in those arms again,”

“It felt good to have you in them. Hopefully in a few days…”

“It’ll happen. I know it will. You’re doing fine. Just keep doing what you have to do. That’s it. We’ll talk in the morning, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Get some sleep,” she gently orders, and then disconnects the call.

[splendidlyimperfect]

Sting’s life has been a mess ever since he was eleven years old and Rogue told when he’d promised to keep a secret. Now Sting is an adult, and the only way he knows how to cope is by getting drunk and forgetting the world. When drinking nearly kills him, he gets a chance to turn his life around, and maybe fix his past mistakes.

Chapter Summary:  Natsu helps Sting through withdrawal, and Sting thinks about Rogue.

Chapters (2/?) : 1 | 2 Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Rogue Cheney/Sting Eucliffe, Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Sting Eucliffe & Natsu Dragneel, Sting Eucliffe & Weisslogia Characters: Sting Eucliffe, Natsu Dragneel, Rogue Cheney, Gray Fullbuster, Weisslogia Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Past Child Abuse, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Trans Character, Trans Sting, Friendship, Childhood Friends, Sting-focused story, Sting is a disaster, Natsu’s a great friend, Rogue tries to do what’s right, Tumblr: FTLGBTales Series: Part 2 of i’m still standing

**TW for brief mention of self-harm & suicide attempt

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de·tox·i·fy | \ (ˌ)dē-ˈtäk-sə-ˌfī verb : to free (someone, such as a drug user or an alcoholic) from an intoxicating or an addictive substance in the body or from dependence on or addiction to such a substance

.

xii

.

“Were you trying to kill yourself?”

The question comes the day after they get home from the hospital. Sting’s curled up on the couch, shivering and trying to ignore his aching stomach. He looks up at Natsu, who’s crouched in front of him with a glass of water.

“What?”

“Were you trying to kill yourself?” Natsu repeats, looking Sting in the eye. His expression is hard to figure out, but Sting’s pretty sure he’s not angry. Sting knows what angry looks like.

He takes the water from Natsu and drains the whole glass, then gives it back with trembling hands. Natsu stands up and grabs another blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over Sting’s shoulders as he shivers. He’s so fucking cold.

“I dunno,” Sting admits eventually. “Maybe?”

“Why?”

Sting can’t answer the question right away because his stomach cramps up and he groans, curling into a tighter ball and wrapping his arms around himself. He’s already thrown up more times than he can count, so he knows there’s nothing left in his stomach, but it’s roiling anyway – rebelling against him, asking for the one thing he can’t have.

Natsu’s hand brushes against Sting’s forehead and Sting flinches.

“Maybe coming home from the hospital wasn’t the best idea,” Natsu murmurs, nudging Sting over so he can sit next to him on the couch. “You’re burning up again.” He sets one of the couch cushions in his lap and nudges Sting until he’s lying on it, face almost pressed into Natsu’s stomach.

“I’m s-sorry,” Sting manages, squeezing his eyes shut. Natsu reaches back and flicks off the lamp so that the only light in the room is the soft glow of the moon spilling through the window.

Continue reading on AO3

Another spasm wracks Sting’s body, and his jaw seizes up from the tension. The only sound he can make is a low, groaning noise. Natsu’s hand touches his forehead again, and then gentle fingers start to comb through his hair, shifting the sweaty strands that are plastered to his forehead and the back of his neck.

“You’re gonna make it through this,” Natsu says, one hand rubbing Sting’s arm while the other keeps brushing through his hair. “Has it been this bad before?”

Sting manages to shake his head. The last time he was sober for more than a week, he’d been seventeen, and Uncle Wes had been the one helping him through it. He’s tried to quit before, but he’s pretty sure he’s never made it longer than six days, and it’s never been like this.

Sting drifts in and out of sleep for a while, and eventually Natsu turns on the TV to some cooking show that Sting vaguely recognizes. Uncle Wes used to watch it. The background noise is calming, somehow. Natsu keeps combing his hair, and every time a spasm pulls at Sting, Natsu rubs his back and tells him quietly that he’s going to be okay.

-----

When Sting wakes up the next day, the first thing he wants is a drink.

He opens his eyes slowly, squinting against the sunlight that’s filling the room. It takes a second to figure out where he is – he’s expecting the couch at Ryan’s, or the back alley near the bar, or maybe a bed at the shelter if he’s lucky. Instead, he realizes that he’s in Natsu’s apartment with his head in Natsu’s lap. Natsu is fast asleep with his head tipped back and one hand still resting on Sting’s shoulder.

As soon as Sting tries to sit up, Natsu’s awake, rubbing his eyes and yawning. The first words out of his mouth are, “how are you feeling?”

Sting can’t answer because the truth will just be disappointing.

“Fine,” he says, but when he tries to sit up, he nearly passes out.

“Nice try,” Natsu grumbles, flicking Sting’s forehead. Sting winces, trying to bat Natsu’s hand away, but his whole body feels weak and heavy. “You think you can eat something?”

The mention of food makes Sting’s stomach cramp again, and he tries to roll away from Natsu to vomit. He tumbles awkwardly off the couch, banging his arm on the coffee table and ending up on his hands and knees. Heat flushes through Sting’s body as his stomach contracts, but nothing comes up, so he just heaves a few times and then collapses face-first onto the carpet.

“I’m gonna take that as a no,” Natsu says dryly, tossing the blanket off and kneeling next to Sting. “C’mon, let’s get you in the bath.”

Sting tries to protest, but his movements are feeble and Natsu shakes his head.

“You smell like vomit and tequila,” he says, wrinkling his nose as he hauls Sting to his feet. “You’re gonna have a bath, take the meds from the hospital, and go back to sleep until you can do something other than puke.”

They’re in the bathroom and Sting’s sitting on the toilet as Natsu runs the bath when Sting suddenly realizes that he’s going to have to undress.

“W-wait,” he mumbles, grabbing at the hem of his shirt as Natsu turns to him. He shakes his head and the whole room spins.

“I lived in a dorm with communal showers for a year,” Natsu says, rolling his eyes. “I’ve seen naked dudes before. C’mon, let me help you.”

“’s not the… the same,” Sting insists, crossing his arms over his chest and blinking hard to try to get the room back into focus. Natsu doesn’t know, and Sting’s not sure he’ll understand. “Don’t wanna.”

Natsu sighs, rubbing his face and leaning back against the wall. “I’m worried you’re gonna drown if I’m not helping you,” he says gently. “If you’d rather take a shower you can keep the curtain closed and I’ll stand out here?”

Sting slides down from the toilet onto the floor and pulls his knees up to his chest, wishing everything would stop spinning. Natsu’s right. He can’t even stand up on his own, never mind take a shower.

He wants to cry.

“Can’t,” he says eventually, peeking up at Natsu. “Myself, I mean.”

Natsu reaches over and turns off the water, then sits back on his heels and studies Sting carefully. “What’s going on?” he asks. His expression is gentle and open, and Sting finds himself falling into it.

“’m different…” Sting says, tipping his head back against the cabinet. “Jus’… stuff.” He waves a hand vaguely at himself – he hasn’t had to talk about this since he came out to Ryan three years ago. Sting knows that he’s making next to zero sense but Natsu’s face suddenly shifts to an expression of realization.

“Gotcha,” he says, nodding. “Okay, if you’re—if you’d rather do it yourself, we can wait until tomorrow, see if you feel better? But I don’t mind helping you if you want me to.”

“You… don’t care?” Sting asks, frowning.

Natsu shakes his head. “My ex was, too,” he says.

“Oh.”

It hangs between them for a moment, and eventually Sting nods. “Okay,” he says quietly, unwrapping his arms from around his knees and reaching out slowly to Natsu. Natsu takes Sting’s hand and squeezes it before standing and pulling Sting up to his feet.

“C’mon,” Natsu says, helping Sting tug his shirt off. It’s not as awkward as Sting expects it to be – probably because he’s too dizzy to focus on what Natsu can and can’t see of his body. Before he knows it, he’s settled in the bathtub, warm water soothing his aching muscles.

Natsu’s hands are gentle as he helps Sting wash his hair with shampoo that smells like vanilla and coconut. Sting hasn’t had a bath like this in ages, and he’s so comfortable that he nearly falls asleep.

Eventually he ends up curled up on Natsu’s bed, wearing too-big sweatpants and a hoodie that says Danston University across the chest.

“Go back to sleep,” Natsu says gently, tugging the duvet up over Sting. He still can’t stop shivering. “I’ll come back in a bit to see how you’re doing, okay?”

Panic suddenly races through Sting’s body and the urge to cry hits him like a blow to the chest. “D-don’t…”

“You want me to stay?” Natsu asks, and Sting nods, relieved that he doesn’t have to ask. Natsu nudges Sting over – the bed’s only a double, so there’s barely enough room for both of them – and grabs a book from the nightstand, then leans back against the headboard.

“Sleep,” he says, and Sting’s hit by a wave of exhaustion that makes him sink into the mattress. The last thing he remembers is the shuffle of the pages of the book, and Natsu saying, “I promise I won’t go anywhere.”

-----

Sting spends the next few days alternating between throwing up everything he eats and trying to sleep between horrifying nightmares. None of them make any sense, but he always wakes up with the unsettled feeling that something’s chasing him, or he’s going to die.  

Eventually, Sting starts to feel human again. He’s stopped shivering and sweating, and he’s finally able to keep down a handful of crackers and some plain pasta. Natsu hasn’t left the apartment except to run to the drugstore for medication.

“I wasn’t trying to die.”

Sting finally answers Natsu’s question a week after they come home from the hospital. They’re both sitting on the couch – Sting has his head in Natsu’s lap again, and Natsu’s flipping through his phone with one hand and combing Sting’s hair with the other. The sensation is comforting, and it keeps Sting’s mind off wanting to drink.  

“You asked if I was trying to kill myself,” Sting clarifies as Natsu puts his phone away and looks down at Sting. “I wasn’t.” Natsu doesn’t say anything, still running his fingers through Sting’s hair. “I tried once,” Sting continues, voice soft. “A little while before we started working together.”

He can feel Natsu’s gaze move to his forearms and the multitude of white scars across his freckled skin.

“Why?” Natsu asks again, and his voice holds no accusation, only gentle curiosity.

Sting sighs, rubbing his face. “Lots of reasons,” he says after a minute. “I’d fucked things up again, and I had… nothing. Nobody.”

“You don’t have family?” Natsu asks.

Sting shakes his head, trying not to think about his dad. An image of Uncle Wes flashes through Sting’s mind, but he shakes it away regretfully. There’s no way he’d want to see Sting again – not after the last time.

“My mom died and my dad’s an asshole,” Sting says eventually.

“Friends?”

Sting shrugs. “Everyone I know here is… into bad shit,” he says.

Then he thinks of Rogue. Sting hasn’t seen Rogue since they were eleven and Sting used to be Abbey. Sting knows Rogue’s an adult now, like him, but the last image Sting has of him is a scared, confused kid who had taken care of him when nobody else would.

“I used to have a best friend,” Sting says softly. He looks down at his hand. There’s a scar on his ring finger from when they’d built the tree fort in Rogue’s back yard and Sting had nearly nailed his hand to one of the planks of wood. The memory is bittersweet – that fort had been their hideaway, as well as Sting’s only safe place as a little kid.

“What happened?” Natsu asks.

“He was just trying to help,” Sting says sadly. “And I was stupid. I hated him for it for a long time. I thought he’d ruined my life.”

Natsu doesn’t say anything, just sits quietly with Sting and his guilt. Eventually Sting sighs and looks up at Natsu.

“It wasn’t his fault,” Sting says. “The only person who ruined my life was me.”

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Caramel Skin Under A Vanilla Sky. Part 20 full draft

Moved with the help of a hover trolley, Lance looked even worse under the lights of the Telula. Having scanned his body, Daehra set up a drip line with a herbal concoction to help flush Lance's system of the excess drugs, as well as lower his fever. It was only by some miracle that Lance was still breathing on his own unaided. Holding the Cuban's hand firmly, Keith hadn't left his side as he waited for him to wake, having fallen asleep with his cheek against Lance's palm, and Kosmo by his side. The question of "why?" had plagued his mind right up to the moment the exhaustion of everything hit him like a 2-by-4 to the face. Waking to something tickling his cheek, Keith jerked back when he realised Lance's hand was moving. Grasping it firmly with his left hand, Keith's attention shot to Lance's face. The pain in his eyes causing him to tear up again as he surged up to hug Lance as tightly as he could with his right arm. Burying his neck against Lance's neck, he choked out "You stupid bastard... you nearly left me" Coughing, Lance's voice was a gravelly rasp "What... happened?" "You took too many drugs. You had a seizure and you wouldn't wake up... I thought I lost you..." "Keith..." Pulling back from the hug, Keith glared at Lance. Lance wincing at the fierce look "Why?! Why would you do that?! Daehra said you had double your daily pills, plus triple that golden liquid stuff in your system! You body went into meltdown! Why, Lance!?" Lance's bottom lip trembled "Don't give me that! I thought we were getting closer again! I thought I was helping you! That I was getting through to you how serious I am about staying with you! You tried to kill yourself... because of me" "No! No..." "No, what? You do this. You cut me out. You keep pushing me away! I don't understand why you don't believe me!" "Because everyone leaves!" Coughing, Lance rubbed at his throat. Keith caught off guard at Lance's words "Everyone leaves, Keith. I didn't try to kill my self, I tried to kill what I'm feeling. I can't afford to feel. I can't afford to slip up. I have to... I have to keep moving forward. I didn't try to kill myself. I tried to kill..." "You tried to kill what?" "Me... because everyone leaves and I knew you would now that the mission is over" Keith stared at Lance in shock "I'm not ok. I can't keep being Lance. I can't be with you. I can't give you my heart. I can't even stand the thought of kisses, let alone being fucked. You were going to wake up sooner rather than later and see that I am not worth any of this effort. I took... I took more because... I wanted to kill off these emotions. I'm barely human anymore. Could you say that in 5 years time, 10 years time, you weren't going to see how much of a fuck up I am? I can't love you like you deserve, so I don't want to feel anything... I'm not worth anything..." "How can you say that?! What about all the good you're doing?" "Making you cry. Making you lie. Making you think I tried to off myself because of you. How is that good for you? You're lying to your mum. To Shiro. To your family, because I can't get my shit together. Ever since you turned up on my goddamn doorstep, you brought everything back. Why can't you see I'm not worth it?" "Because I love you" "I don't love you, Keith" "Lance..." Keith's heart began to race, sick dread filling him "I don't. I don't love you. I don't think I love any one anymore. Go home" "Lance" "Go home! I don't love you! I don't want you here! You can't fix me!" "I don't care if you don't love me, you fucking idiot, I love you!" "Do you want to know how I feel about love?! It makes me sick. When you touch me, I want to tear my own skin off! When you're nice to me, I want to vomit. When you sit there watching me, I want to break your fingers!" "No. You don't mean that" Denial came thick and fast to Keith. He'd seen it Lance's eyes, in his touches. In the way he smile, and relaxed into his hold. Lance had come so far. He'd reached out his hand, and Keith had pulled him close "Get out" "Lance, please. Don't do this" "Get out!" He was ugly crying now. His world felt like it was shattering "L-Lance" "What's going on here?" Whether already coming to check on Lance, or drawn by their yelling, Daehra walked into the med bay. Her question taking Lance's attention from him "Keith was leaving" "Lance, please..." "Go home, Keith" "Lance" "Go home! I don't want you here! I've humoured you long enough. You're not my friend. You're not my family and your love, it disgusts me" Unable to take anymore, Keith fled for the medbay doors, collapsing against them as his strength gave out. With his chest heaving, he couldn't believe Lance would say those things. He knew he didn't mean them. He couldn't have possibly meant them. Lance was trying to drive him away. But god, it fucking hurt. Driving the heels of his palms into his eyes, he tried to calm his breathing... but it was hard when Lance was right behind those doors. Lance was talking to Daehra instead of him. Why couldn't it be him? * "Leandro, did you really need to treat Keith in such a manner?" Grasping his chest, Lance struggled for breath. His heart feeling like it was shattering in a way it hadn't since Allura died. Sucking in a desperate breath, his lungs refused to cooperate. He didn't want to hurt Keith. He didn't want to hurt anyone. But, Keith... he... he would leave. He hadn't meant to overdose. He'd simply wanted to keep up the appearance of Leandro for his team, and protect himself from Keith leaving the only way he knew how. Letting out a choked sob, Daehra rushed to his side, gathering him into her hold. He didn't have the energy to push things down anymore, knowing that every single thing he felt for Keith was flooding into her "Oh, Lance... why? Why, could you not tell him?" "Because he deserves the world... I can't hold him back" "He loves you" "I think... I'm falling for him all over again, but he deserves better than someone like me" He'd tried so hard to not breakdown against Daehra like this. He'd tried so hard to be everything everyone wanted "He chose you" "I can't choose him. I can't. There's things he doesn't know... if he... if he knew... if he knew he'd leave on the spot. If he's going to leave, then he needs to go before I fall even harder for him... I love him... but I can't, Daehra. I can't be with someone like that again" Hushing him softly, Daehra rocked him as she fiddled with his IV line with her other hand "He cares for you far more than words can see. He did not leave your side since you collapsed. He refused to eat or sleep" "See! How is that healthy? I can't be responsible for him" "You are not responsible for him, Lance. He made the choice to stay" "For how long? The pills don't work when he's so close. He's so gentle, but I can't help but feel sick. He... I can't do that to him, Dae... I can't" Sobbing out his feelings warmth started spreading through his body, radiating from the IV in his arm "Shhhh. You are very weak. You need rest. Much rest" Letting her hold him, he hated himself so much that he wished he hadn't woke. His body was wrong. His face was wrong. His mind was wrong. He'd come back wrong. So everything he was feeling for Keith, must too be wrong. Not knowing that Daehra had opened the line to sedate him, it wasn't long before Lance was back out of it again. The woman having prepared a seperate line on Keith's warning that Lance may grow violent due to the drugs in his system and the fact he was going to be thrown off by suddenly being in an environment that his brain might not recognise immediately. Lowering Lance down, the woman sighed. Both of them were idiots in her books. * Half falling back when the door opened behind him, Keith barely noticed. Moving to squat down in front of him, Daehra placed her hand on his own "Keith?" With watery amethyst eyes, Keith blinked in attempt to make his whole world less blurred "How is he?" "Not good. We should speak" Despite the abuse Lance had thrown his way, Keith didn't want to leave him in the med bay alone. Kosmo might have been there, but he couldn't help in an emergency "I can't..." "You are both... I swear!" Daehra's remark sounded like she thought "I swear" was the same as actually swearing "Did he... I mean..." "He spoke" "And?" "You are both frustrating" "He's disgusted by me" Shaking her head, Keith was sure Daehra was doing so in pity "No. He is scared" "I know he's scared. He's been scared since... before I even came back into his life" Taking her hand off his arm, Daehra pressed it to his chest "He is scared here. He loves you, and he is scared by that" "He doesn't love me" "If he does not love you, why did he just tell me he has "fallen" for you?" "He... did?" Nodding, Daehra gave him as sad smile "He loves you. I could feel it as I held him. He loves you and he is scared of what that means. He is sure you will leave" "I don't want to leave him. I told him I don't want to" "Keith. The heart and the mind do not always align. He does not believe he can over come his fears. He fears he will hurt you. That somehow his love is wrong. I know his words hurt. But he wants to love you. He is simply scared of where that love will lead" He wasn't fucking Allura. He wasn't going to leave Lance behind to start all over again with a broken heart. He didn't want to live in her shadow "What do I do then?" "You stay. The Telula still needs many repairs. You stay, you help" "I was going to, but he won't listen" "I think it best I show you something. You have given me much to think about. I feel as if I'm betraying Lance, but he has... I fear for him" "Show me what?" "Come" Walking back into the medbay, Lance was out cold again. Kosmo had moved to lay up against him, his head resting on Lance's chest "Do not worry, he will not wake. He will probably not remember waking up and fighting with you" That didn't make things alright. It didn't take away the hurt done by Lance's words. The only small comfort he had was that Lance hadn't tried to kill himself. No. He'd only tried to kill the feelings he had for him, which stung like all fuck "I want to show you something now I know Lance has not told me everything" "What?" "Here, you come" Following Daehra down to the end of the room where the scanner equipment was located, Daehra pulled up a hologram "This is Lance's body. I feel he is hiding something more from me. I can tell you were confused by his cycle. Answer me honestly, this is not normal for someone of his physiology" "No..." Sighing, Daehra manipulated the hologram to Lance's pelvic region. Keith trying not blush at the holographic image of Lance's junk. It'd been bad enough cleaning him down there. There was nothing sexual in his actions, but looking felt wrong, even if he'd seen it before. Tapping, Daehra spun the image, before enlarging something "I don't know what I'm looking at" "This is Lance's womb. Human males do not have wombs" His what now?! What... what? "There has to be a mistake. Lance... is human. No. He was not born with a womb" "These scanners do not lie. Before meeting him, I was trained not in depth with this technology. I tested his pills without his permission" Feeling dizzy, Keith stumbled to grab the end of the bed. He didn't understand a damn thing about how this could have happened "I test all his pills. I have run simulations, and have drawn conclusions" "Tell me" "If Lance did not take his pills, his marks would return. His body would regulate and his cycle would begin. He emits a scent that is appealing to Galra. And most probably those who do not share his same genetic base. He always spoke fondly of you, and I believe I understand now. He has undergone changes on a genetic level from male human physiology. I think he also fears that you cannot love him how he is, because he cannot love himself how he is. You and I are the only two to know this. I have not informed the others. Though I do wish he had told me. I did not make the decision to follow him because of his body. He has always been an excellent leader. We will continue to follow him, because he needs whatever he is getting out of this. His mood may drop lower when he learns the Telula was take many moons to fix. This is all a lot to think of. He will not wake for many vargas, and your Kosmo will be with him. Go rest. Think. If you cannot love him, then leave. If you do love him, make peace with your past, and explain to those you love you need to be with him for now. You give each other strength. I feel it deeply" Keith's head was still spinning. He wasn't sure he knew which way was up as he nodded "Thanks... I... need to think, I think..." "Please rest" Nodding again, he felt numb as he forced himself out the medbay and through the Telula. Instead of returning to the quarters he'd used, he walked the extra few steps to Lance's, quietly letting himself into the darkened space. Ignoring the soft light that turned on automatically, Keith dropped down on Lance's bed as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Lance didn't make helping him easy. What the fuck had Allura done to him? Did she mean to change his body so drastically? Or was it a by product of giving Lance part of her life force? Wiping at his tired eyes, he let himself crawl slowly under the covers of Lance's bed, bathing himself in the scents Lance had left behind. Beneath his head, something hard dug through the pillow, irritating him and teasing him with the thought it could be more drugs. Grabbing the hard thing out, he found it to be Lance's orange communicator, his thumb accidentally taking it out of standby mode where he was flooded with bright light and what seemed a long message and call list from Veronica. Fuck. Of course she'd been worried. Her and Lance talked far too frequently for Lance to just disappear without telling her. Shiro might have said they were on a mission, but now Keith felt like he had to explain what was happening. If she pushed Lance too far, things could get even quiznakking worse. Scrolling through the contact list, he found misses calls from Lance's home and a message from Hunk talking about having a get together in a few movements. He said he needed to talk to Lance, but the message was two movements old now and he hadn't tried to call. Wiping at his face, Keith scrolled back through the list. Lance was so loved by his family, yet was hurting so bad he couldn't accept that love at the moment. Without knowing what time it was on Earth, Keith found himself calling Lance's mother. "Lance?! Mijo?! Are you alright?..." Swapping to Spanish, Lance's mother had his head swimming. She took a few moments to slow, then finally asked "Lance?" "Hi, sorry. It's actually Keith" "Keith?! Why are you calling? Is it Lance? No... no..." Her mind had leapt to the worst place possible. Keith kicking himself for not interrupting further "Lance is fine. He's asleep at the moment, we just came back from a covert mission. He pretty much fell asleep within minutes of getting back. I saw how many times you called, so I wanted to reassure you he's ok" "Thank the lord. Thank you, Keith. That boy never stops to think when he's on a mission. Is he there? Can he talk?" Chewing his lip, Keith shook his head before remembering it was an audio only call "No. He's in the other room sleeping. I just didn't want you to continue worrying. He was helping me out on an off the book mission, that wound up taking longer than intended" "Thank you, Keith... At least someone knows the value of a call" It hurt to hear the pain in her voice "Can... I ask you a question?" There was a pause from Lance's mother "Yes, yes. You're as good as a son to me after helping my Lance, and saving the planet. Please, go ahead" "If I said that I had feelings for Lance, would you be ok with that" Keith didn't expect the laughter, or the apology as Lance's mother laughed "I'm sorry. Your feelings for him were obvious to everyone but him. You wish to date Lance, then you need to ask him" "I know, but you're all so important to him. I don't want to... do anything to ruin that" Lance's mother sobered "After Allura died, Lance lost himself. My son... he has issues. He was jumping at shadows, scared of loud noises, stuck in love with Allura. When he left suddenly, we were all confused, but he seemed happy. If you two have found your way back to each other, then I know nothing will make him happier. He is stubborn, stupid and foolish, but he is my baby" "I understand. I know how much Allura dying hurt him. Recently we've been talking about it. I want to date him, but I don't know if I'm the best choice" "That is for Lance to choose. You are a fine young man, Keith. I will not need to worry as much if you're by his side" She'd probably have a heart attack on the spot if she knew what Lance had gone through. No wonder calling home was hard "Thank you. I'm sorry for calling randomly. I don't even know what the time is" "No. I appreciate it. Please tell Lance to call when he can. We miss him... and please, keep him safe" "Um... I promise I will, but can you not tell anyone about what I asked? Lance and I are still working things out, and it's going to take time" "When you are ready, you will tell me. Now go rest, I hear the exhaustion in your voice" Snorting, Keith nodded before remembering she couldn't see him "Thanks. You too" Well. He had Lance's mother's permission. Not that Lance really needed permission to date, he just didn't want to risk coming between Lance and family. He didn't think it would be too big of a deal... actually, no, he was glad the words had slipped out without him thinking because now that he was, he was slightly freaking out. Still, he didn't have time to rest just yet. Scrolling through Lance's communicator, he found Shiro's name. He really needed Shiro right about now to tell him what the hell to do. Calling Shiro, Keith swore it took even longer than normal for his adopted brother to answer. Dressed in formal wear, Keith had the feeling he'd interrupted some kind of diplomatic meeting, but couldn't bring himself to care "You're not Lance" "No. Can you talk?" "Sure. What's going on?" "I... Shiro, I don't even know where to begin" "I'm assuming it's Lance?" Stupid tears rolled down his face, Shiro's eyes widening. With a small flurry of movement, Shiro had changed location "Keith, what's wrong?" "I don't know what to do" "First off, are you and he safe?" Nodding, Keith wiped at a stray tear with his thumb "We're on a friendly planet. Two of his crew come from here and they all love Lance" "Good. That's good. Now, are you both alright?" "I don't know... Shiro, he's so convinced that I'm going to leave him like Allura did, he nearly got himself killed" "Is he ok now?" "Physically. His team's medic is looking after him. The mission... god, Shiro. It was a mess. We didn't find Guile, but we found a whole lot of people hacked to pieces. Lance saw the... he freaked. It took me two days to calm him down... he keeps trying to act like it never happened, and he keeps pushing me away because he thinks I'm not going to stay. I'm fucking scared for him" "Keith... I think you should let us come to you" "He'd only get more upset. You know how he thinks. He thinks he's some great burden, even when he's done nothing wrong. His anxiety levels are so high. I keep telling him I'm staying here, but we he won't listen" Sighing, Shiro nodded "I understand. I had... similar problems with Curtis. The feeling I'd let Adam down, and not knowing if I could be there at the crucial moment for him" "How did you get through it?" "We're still working our way through it. Touch is a big thing. It doesn't have to be grand gestures, but small touches should ease his nerves. Have you talked to Krolia about staying?" "She knows. I sent her the film from the mission... she hasn't got back to me about it. We need to close that place down. It's a government prison, where they're supposed to be storing prisoners in status. They're chopping them to pieces. Lance... he recognised one of the people on there... He's not in a good mental state" "That's revolting... Send me through the data. We've been locked in negotiations with three planets in the sector we're in, meaning there's a back log to be checked. We won't be able to move right away" He'd drop everything and come to pick them up, but wouldn't drop everything to go blow up a floating body farm... yep, that sounded just like Shiro "Patience yields focus" Shiro let out a soft laugh "That is does" "Mum has the files, I think she was going to send them through. I know I can't keep Lance out of this, but I think he needs to rest and take a step back. He's probably going to be mad if you make plans without us, but... I don't know what else to do. This... this a whole government covering up murder. They're using police and agents to bring them bodies. Then there's also some weird cult operating out here that's after the Lions..." "Keith. I'll look into it. Knowing you, you probably want to go back to Lance. You're exhausted and you need to rest before you do. Take a shower, have something to eat and rest" Huffing, Keith rolled his eyes "Yes, dad" "Good. Let me know if your status changes, or anything happens. I'll talk to Veronica" "Better you than me... she's been blowing up Lance's comms" "I'm not surprised. I think she would have taken the Atlas after him by now if she had the choice. Her and Acxa have both been... difficult" "Acxa's there?" "She has been for a while now. I suppose with you stepping back, she'll be recalled to Daibazaal" His team was on the back burner. It wasn't like he was leaving then forever, but right now Lance came first "I didn't think about that. Can you... Lance and I aren't dating. Can you make sure they don't bring that up? He's... hesitant" "Keith, I can handle my crew. Now rest" "I will. I'll talk to you later Shiro" "You too, Keith. Call me if you need anything. If either of you need anything. I'm only a call away" "I know. Say hi to the others for me" "I will" Ending the call, Keith carefully placed Lance's communicator on the spare space beside him. He didn't like lying, or telling half truths, but when the truth wasn't his to tell, all he could was muddle through things the best he could. Burrowing down into Lance's bedding, all he wanted to do was get back up again and return to Lance's side. On the castle, they'd never let anyone wake alone, and now he felt as if he was breaking that promise to him. He still held the secret that his mother knew Lance had been raped, and with how much time has passed, he had no idea how to come clean about it... * Feeling like cotton wool had been stuffed down his throat, and in his head, Lance blinked up at the roof the Telula's medbay with no memory of how he'd gotten there. Despite the space being a safe place to him, the fact he was clearly missing time caused him to start panicking. Was everyone else alright? Had he snapped and lost it at someone? Hurt them? He... remembered landing... and Annla... but... "Lance?" A soft hand came to his cheek, Keith's face filling his vision "Hey. You had a bad reaction to your medication, and collapsed. I cleaned you up, and Daehra hooked you up to an IV" Medication? His... oh... "How... long?" His tongue felt thick and heavy, his throat itchy "2 and a bit quintants. You scared the quiznak out of me" "'m sorry..." "No. It's ok. We told the others you picked a space bug from bad food" "We?" "Daehra and I. I'm so relieved to see you awake" Lance's chest tightened in guilt. He'd taken more of his medication in an attempt to remain strong, but with the way Keith was looking at him so softly, he was wavering all over again "'m sorry" Coughing, he wrinkled his nose at the taste it brought "Take it easy. You had a seizure. Let me get you some water" A seizure? It'd been a while since that had happened... Disappearing, Keith returned a few ticks later with a water pouch, adjusting and holding the straw for him, Lance drank deeply "Slow down. You're probably feeling really flat right now" Pulling back, Lance groaned. Flat was an understatement. Settling the water pouch somewhere, Keith took his hand in his "You really scared me" "Didn't mean to..." What was Keith still doing here? He didn't get it. If 2 quintants had passed, then he'd had plenty of time to leave "I know. I should tell you, I had to bath you. I know you don't like being touched, but I want you to know no else did..." Lance's heart fell further. If Keith had bathed him, he'd seen him completely naked. He'd seen everything "Hey, it's alright. Even I'm not going to feel up an unconscious man, no matter how hot he is" "Don't say it like that" Time loss and being stripped naked had him wanting to scrub himself raw. It didn't matter that he trusted Keith. No one had ever said anxieties were reasonable "Sorry. I'm just trying to say, no one else touched you. Other than Daehra to set up the IV. Daehra has been handling the aide shipment. I called your mum too..." "You called my family?" What? Why the hell would Keith do that?! What had he told him?! He had no right... Lance's tone was snappish, Keith nodding like the stupid mulleted angel he was "To tell them we'd been on a covert mission so you hadn't been able to call. That we are safe, and that you're fine. You had dozens of missed calls on your communicator" "You were using my communicator?" "I couldn't find mine. I was checking in with Shiro, so he didn't freak out and send the Atlas. He says "hello"" Keith staying here, covering for him, and now lying for him... he didn't understand why Keith would go this far after he'd fucked up "Why... why would you do all this?" "Because you're my best friend, you idiot. I've got your back. Plus, I know you were snoring your head off in here, and could exactly do it yourself" Still annoyed, he was even more annoyed that his annoyance at Keith was fading. Pouting, he tried not to seem too forgiving "I don't snore" "We both know you do. You're better than Kosmo though, he lets out the worst farts in his sleep" Yipping at them, Lance agreed with Kosmo "Don't insult Kosmo. He's the best boy in the universe" "Tell that to him when he stinks out a whole ship" "You're not supposed to talk about it. It's like having your parents tell everyone your embarrassing stories" "He's practically your wolf too. He didn't even want to leave for food" Kosmo wasn't his. He was Keith's, but Lance loved him like crazy. He'd been jealous as hell when Keith had come back with him "Naw... Poor Kosmo. I'm sure Annla has some treats for him. She's been really excited about meeting him. They don't have a lot of animals around here anymore. She couldn't even comprehend what a wolf was" "I realised as much. You're really good with children" "Kids are easy, there were always kids around the farm. They don't expect you to be someone you're not. They haven't seen the shit we have... Plus, Annla is a good kid" "I've never been good with kids. They usually run away when they see my face" Lance doubted it happened as often as the half-Galran implied. Keith was gentle, and ridiculously attractive. Sure, he used to scowl at anything that moved, but time was the real wonder drug. Keith's sullen temper had cooled, his baby fat falling away to reveal sharp lines Lance would kill for "Because you used to be scary Keith, all glarey and no cuddly. Now you're like grizzly, chiselled Keith" "I don't think it changes things" "God. You're frustrating. You know you're good looking and you're like "nooo, I have no idea why the alien princess would like me". It makes me want to smack you over the back of the head" Keith had the manners to at least blush hard at Lance's words "You're the only one who thinks like that" "What, the only one who would hit you? If you ask Lucteal, I'm sure he'd take a swing" "No. You're the only one who's called me pretty, and good looking..." Keith's blush grew, Lance finding it stupidly sweet, though his own cheeks reddened at Keith pointing this out. Glancing down, Lance staring at his lap instead of Keith's perfect face "Well... I'm stating the facts. Speaking of pretty, I'm pretty done with this bed. When can I get up?" Laughing, Keith shook his head at him. Why did every little thing have Lance's heart beating like it had no idea what a normal rhythm was "Only you could change topic like that. You're stuck there until Daehra says you're ok to get up" "I'm fine" "You're not fine. You nearly died" Minor details. He didn't, so there was no need to be stuck in bed "You're over reacting" Catching a whiff of something sharp?, grating? He wasn't quite sure but his body tensed at the smell, stalling as he started moving to escape the bed "You're under reacting. If I hadn't stuck my fingers in your mouth, you would have choked to death on your own vomit. I know you're having issues with wanting to living, but don't you dare think that I won't drag your arse back every time. That wasn't ok. You're not allowed to up and die on me. Just like I'm not allowed to go and die on you" "Keith..." What was he supposed to say to that? No one could promise they wouldn't die. It was impossible... After all Allura had been through, he'd conceived in his wildest dreams that she'd give her life for the universe "I'm serious. I can't lose you, Lance. And I'm not going anywhere. If your stupid arse gets killed, I'm going right after you" "Don't talk like that..." He wasn't worth it. The universe needed Keith. Lance still believed he was the future. His humanitarian work had done so much to improve the Galra image. Keith was everything he wasn't. A cool, collected leader who was smart enough not to let his life be fucked up thanks to a good ego stroking "Then don't do stupid things. I have no idea how to make you understand I'm not leaving your stubborn arse" Keith was going to send his heart into failure if he kept this up. He couldn't take the heaviness or sincerity of the man's words "Fine. Message received. You can go find Daehra now. I'm sure she's just going to say I'm fine anyway" "Lance..." "I get it, Keith. You're not leaving right away. I want to get up and shower, my skin feels gross, plus missing time and waking up naked..." "I didn't think about it like that. I'll find Daehra, but please stay in bed until she gets here" Waving Keith off, Lance stayed in bed as he was told. Not for Keith's sake though... not at all. He simply couldn't be bothered wrapping a sheet around himself and then darting through ship back to his quarters. He also wasn't attempting to escape because he couldn't. Keith wasn't playing fair. Everything he'd said had sent Lance's heart racing. He had far too many feelings for Keith... but no idea what to do... He couldn't forget what had happened. No matter what he did, it was always right there. The little voices in his head were fast to remind him how thoroughly worthless he was. How below Keith's league he was. All he wanted to do was go back to work now that he was awake. There were people out there who needed help, and the Telula needed repairs. He needed to see what was happening there.. He didn't need to be stuck in the stupid medbay because of a small overdose. He wasn't dumb enough to accept that it was a bad reaction. He'd overdosed in an attempt to shut down the feelings he couldn't cope with, and now Daehra and Keith would be watching his every move because of his fuck up. Growling at himself, he smacked his head back against the back of the bed. It was all another fuck up to add to the list.

[ppatibandla]

My Quarter Life Crisis

Told in a Series of Saved Snapchats

In about four days from now, I’m going to turn 26, which made me think that this might be a great time to reflect on year 25 of my life.

And well, also because I’m going through a post new year slump. You know, the point of time when you realize that you’re not sticking to any of your resolutions, you’re still recovering from the holiday season and struggling to get back into the daily grind, blah blah blah.

Since my creativity and productivity are at an all-time low, I figured that maybe if I just write and reflect, it might help get the juices flowing in my brain again. And I obviously had to tell my story in the most stereotypically millennial way possible - illustrated by a series of Snapchats that I’d saved over the year! :D

Sooo, back to 25 - the milestone number, the axis of our twenties, the pinnacle of our youth *eye roll*- was it everything I’d hoped it would be? Absolutely freakin not! Why? 

Well to start, I spent most of the first half of my 25th year, sick as a dog. I’m not sure what exactly happened but sometime in 2016, my immunity decided to go on a vacation.

Pretty sure I had brought it upon myself with my love for Indomie and Chunky Monkey (I’m sorry, mama!), but my body was suddenly no longer capable of fighting bad bugs on its own.

I was on antibiotics for various infections, eight different times in a span of fewer than six months. The amount and dosages I was prescribed caused absolute chaos in my body. 

Two months into my 25th year, after a particularly high antibiotics course, my stomach was pretty upset (common antibiotic side effect). I waited for the effects to fade away, but they never did. One week in, three weeks in, one month in, two months in…...my stomach was still chronically upset. When I say “upset”, you’re probably visualizing explosive diarrhea but it wasn’t that. I could literally not eat any food without my stomach bloating, having immobilizing cramps and feeling extreme pressure and fullness.

Now, all of these symptoms might not seem like a big deal, but imagine if this is your constant state of being where you’re always aware of the discomfort in your stomach. Imagine if the only time you feel relief is when you wake up in the morning because your stomach is empty then. Imagine if anything you put in your mouth is accompanied by the anticipation and fear of feeling like crap for the rest of the day. This was my life for months.

The doctors couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me, they said I probably had Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS). Now those who are familiar with IBS will also know that it is basically a medical pseudonym for “we don’t know what the hell is wrong with your stomach”. I didn’t even know what the problem was in order to look for a solution! So to fix myself, I had to turn to the last place I wanted to for help - the internet.

When you look up a sickness on the internet, it can actually be really helpful or it can fill you with a crippling fear and conviction that you’re going to die. But I had no choice because my doctor had sent me home with this very wonderful, completely unhelpful advice: 

“Well all your tests seem normal. Just wash your hands more and get more sleep so you don’t fall sick.”

*crickets*. This is what you went to med school for, lady? Thanks, much. >:-[

Also, everyone and their dog is a doctor on the internet. You have no clue who out there actually knows what they’re talking about and who is click-baiting you. 

Norma here would have made a much better doctor!

After trudging through hundreds of websites, I began my experimentation with the different remedies that Dr. Internet prescribed, in the hopes that it would give me some relief.

I tried three-day juice cleanses (juice only diet) and water fasts. This is supposed to help reset your stomach by giving it a break from digesting food. I received temporary relief but the moment I started eating again, my discomfort would return.

I avoided foods known to cause intolerance for months like gluten, dairy, soy, eggs, caffeine etc.

On a side note, I never realized how difficult life is when you have to actively check for and avoid ingredients like gluten, which wipes out more than half the options available to consume. My utmost respect for people who have to do this on a regular basis!

But that wasn’t helpful either because my condition was seemingly random, not caused (though exacerbated) by any particular kind of food.

I tried more antibiotics (look up Xifaxan, you need to sell a kidney to even afford this medication) and a ton of herbal drugs. Seriously, while my peers were out spending their money on vacation and parties, I was spending all of mine on expensive herbs and probiotics which promised results, but sadly never delivered. The herbal stuff was especially scary because it’s not regulated by the FDA - I was gambling with trying to fix my problem at the cost of causing new problems for my body.  

And of course, I also tried more obvious things like yoga, crying, praying and what not, all in a desperate attempt to fix myself. I was trying to go about my daily life and work with a semblance of normalcy but I felt anything but normal. 

There I was at 25, prime of my youth, unable to consume food, taking fistfuls of pills every night and avoiding eating any actual food, just so I didn’t have to deal with the discomfort. I lost a bunch of weight and the stress took the biggest toll on me, making my condition even worse. As if all of this was not bad enough, various members of my immediate family were having serious health issues as well which was further upsetting me.

Finally, sick of my constant visits, the doctor recommended that I get an Upper Endoscopy - a procedure where they shove a camera down your throat to look inside your stomach to make sure you don’t have cancer or a tumor.

$800 and the awful experience of having a minor surgery all alone later, the doctor came back and told me the same thing - my tests were normal! He suggested getting some other tests done too and kept talking, but as I laid there in bed in my shitty hospital gown and listened to him talk, I totally had a dramatic, bollywoodesque moment. I felt the doctor’s voice fade into the background as I made up my mind that I was fine. I covered all my grounds, did all the tests, tired all the remedies which yielded no results. I decided right then and there that I was going to be fine, even if I wasn’t.

And I swear to God, it felt like a switch had flipped and my body started getting better overnight. That night for dinner, I said “screw this shit” and bought myself pizza - I was eating gluten and dairy after months! I went back to eating everything like normal and ignoring the familiar discomfort I felt in my stomach.

Hell yeah, I post food Snapchats! Judge away!

And just like that in the following weeks, I started feeling so much better. Am I absolutely cured today? Is this going to be a miracle recovery story? Sadly, nope.

I still have pretty bad days when I’m doubled over with pain and I still take many probiotics and supplements every night. IBS is a chronic condition with no cure, it can only be managed. I know that it could be worse and that I should be grateful - I am grateful. But IBS has definitely affected the quality of my life and I will probably never be able to fully go back to how I was before. But I have learned to live with it and it’s just another part of my life now.

These were just some of the herbs, probiotics, supplements, vitamins and prescription meds I took (and still take) over the past year :/

So there you go, adulthood hit me like a brick when I turned 25 by bringing on wonderful IBS and what’s more stereotypically a sign of age than GI issues?  I brought this upon myself because of self-imposed stress. The moment I consciously stopped thinking about it, I gave my body the opportunity to restore itself, at least to a capacity where I was able to go about my daily life with relative ease.

None of the stress I was dealing with was particularly special, it’s stuff we all deal with - career, visa, money, family, friends, romance etc etc. But I let it get to me and it nearly destroyed the one thing that I actually can’t fix if broken - my health.

In addition to being chronic, IBS is also pretty common and affects many people in different forms. I am hoping that my overshare story is relatable to those who suffer from it and for those who don’t, please chill out and don’t mess yourself up over things that don’t really matter like I did. Pretty basic life lesson which we all know but conveniently ignore.

But year 25 was still pretty awesome - I made great new friends (and lost some) and got my H1B visa finally after 3.5 years. IBS definitely did not hold me back from going on many many many adventures. 

A Snapchat montage of all my adventures from year 25.

While I’m super excited for 26, I do feel the twinge of regret because like most people my age, I’m nowhere near what I thought I would be by now. But a big part of growing up is realizing that the world sucks, it’s not fair, there’re always going to be men with bad hair and no intelligence (read Trump) trying to control you and there ain’t nothing you can do about it. It’s all about accepting that success is defined differently for everyone, that you can’t change everything and being okay with that. It took me a totally avoidable physical and mental crisis to realize that. Here’s me hoping that your journey to self actualization is smoother!

P.S Before you click through and start reading my older blog posts, please note that everything before this was from when I was younger, dumber and not nearly as woke. 

[room3voluntary]

In meds we trust

I was in the toilet when I heard a polite knock at my door. 'Are you in Maddie? A man’s voice floated through the door. I was only in there looking at my face. Well, the chemical caused acne breakout that used to be my face. Urgh. I opened the door. 'I just have some paperwork to fill in if that's ok?' I realised he might be a junior doctor and he was as polite and his knock. I grabbed them from his hand and it was the usual. 2 pieces of paper, each with situation statements which I had to confirm with a circle. Never, rarely, some days, several days, always. Question 3 really got me. 'Do you talk to yourself while you're alone? What type of question is that ?'I asked aloud. He asked why and I said how do you know. 'How do you know if you talk to yourself while you're alone? That's like asking if a tree falls in the wood when no one is around does anyone hear?' He started laughing. 'I see your point' he said 'I know that I talk to myself' me too. I circled 'several days'. I think everyone does. He thanked me and collected the papers. He informed me I have formulation meeting tomorrow. A formulation meeting is where everyone gets together and discusses what to do with you. It sounds so clinical. How do you  solve a problem like Maddie? I've been a puzzle quite a few times. 

 I was sat at my desk when a seriously lady walked in, carrying a briefcase and a warm smile she perched on the end of my bed. 'My name is Dr Khatri'.

 First things first we discussed the events which led me here but after a while she clocked my note pad. She asked me what I was writing so I explained. It was partly this, partly my book and partly serious subjects. 'I wish I was as creative as you' she said. We then continued trawling through my history and uttered the words I knew were coming but still filled me with dread. 'I think you will benefit from an antipsychotic'

 In 2008, after the first serious admission i had, I left hospital at went back to college. I had my second psychotic breakdown 6 months into my first year at art college. It was now September and my first day back. i was so nervous but everyone was so nice, within a few hours i got my confidence back, i was ready to begin. I stared at the canvas in front of me and nothing happened. Creativity used to flow out of my hands. My mother was told I was gifted. I never saw a blank canvas I saw one hundred visual stories to be told. I picked up the charcoal to trigger some sort of idea but nothing happened. Then it hit me, I was normal. I was functioning but i'd sacrificed my creativity for it. Id sacrificed part of myself. 

 When you're young you're told to believe in you're dreams. You can achieve anything you want but as you get older you realise this isn't true and it takes hard work and sacrifices. My goal was to be normal and for that i realised I'd sacrificed part of my soul. Through the following year, I noticed not only had I sacrificed my soul, also my identity and it was down to a little blue pill called aripiprazole. aripiprazole was an antipsychotic and two years later when I had a trial coming off it, I came back. My soul re-entered my body, whatever what repressing me left and I got my sparkle again. I didn't want to be locked away again.

 'It's an antipsychotic called olanzapine' she said covering an awkward silence in which I realised I hadn't replied. 'I understand you have tried aripiprazole and quetiapine in the past yes?' I had but they were both the same, they stole who I was but quetiapine had made me physically ill as well. bad allergic reaction.

'What are the side effects?' I asked when I finally got out of my thoughts. 'There can be weight gain as a side effect' i knew this. Not only that I knew olanzapine was the worst one for it. I felt sick. I am Maddie and I am skinny. That's part of me. Throughout my life I've had patches where I've been a bit funny about my weight and for this reason I felt like I'd been given a death sentence. Logic once more dictates that this was ridiculous, but me and logic aren't always friends. I'm crazy and ill but at least I'm skinny and exciting. I'm not pretty enough to be fat. Medication weight is entirely different to normal weight. It's all on the stomach. You see it, a big round pouch. It's all on the stomach and flat in the eyes. I got one before, not big but it was there. People can be beautiful at any weight, size and shape but it made me so worried. My choice was be mad or be unhappy with how I look. I don't know what's worse. I know I was being dramatic, I know I was being shallow and vain but maybe It's what I deserved. 'Okay' I said. I wasn't really thinking. I'd already conceded to defeat to continue to participate in the decision. She asked if I had any more questions and smiled as she left. I smiled too.

 I am not anti-medication. I am pro-medication. I'm already on some. There are so many people, mainly who suffer with depression I've found, who point blank refuse any meds. I understand, they worry for the same reason as me but no matter how good your diet is, no matter how many miles your run, sometimes you're serotonin will not play the game. There is no denying these factors help but sometimes you need a crutch, a little helping hand to get you through the day but prejudice and fear seem stronger than logic. 'You don't need pills, why would you want to put all those chemicals in your body?' Preaches the person who nearly blacks out on tequila every weekend before inhaling a gram of cocaine through to Sunday morning. 'You just need a distraction' says the person who’s never even had a cold in their life, never mind any other health problems.

 It's a chemical imbalance: would you tell someone with diabetes it's a state of mind? And the same as diabetes, yes a diet can help, but you're not going to stop that imbalance by stopping their insulin. Ignorance causes suffering.

 The reason for my reservations was my complicated past with this type of drug. After a short time of contemplating in silence I started to cry. I felt heartbroken. Everything I had tried, the struggle and determination I had fought to stay off them, I was back to where I was a few years ago. I had failed. My heart sank into my chest not only through disappointment but the knowledge she was probably right.  I was being selfish too, my behaviour was also effecting the people around me, i had to be fixed. It was the most logical answer. I also knew that medication effects individuals in different ways but even that didn't help me. What could I do? I needed to formulate a plan of my own. Ferociously scribbled into my notebook cause and effect, feelings and frenzied suggestions but i knew deep down i was wrong.

 I went to find a nurse. I wasn't good at this whole 'talking to someone' business, I can do it in my own, but I needed to say my thoughts out loud.

 The ward has been busy. It was living up to a stereotype I tried to ignore. Sharon, the walker, was no longer wandering the hallways but yelping incoherently to herself in her room. Earlier a new girl was brought in by a flock of people who promptly tried to escape and hit her dad. I watched as she screamed and wet her self. I watched her violently thrashing as she was rugby tackled like a SWAT team by the staff and sedated. As we all shuffled off to our rooms as instructed by staff, I saw her legs were all bruised and bleeding. I saw her eyes too, she wasn't there. 

 I finally found a nurse to speak to. No, talk at. Through mascara stained rambling I explained. She said nothing. Finally she said 'don't worry about the weight gain, it doesn't happen to everyone'. What a pile of shit. Yes it does, it's the one that does it that most, im not an idiot. 'Tea is ready if you want some?' She said changing the subject and leaving. I didn't want some. I wasn't hungry. Probably because I knew soon that's all i'd be. Hungry and lost. 

 As the evening drifted on, it nearly time. I made my way to the treatment room like a prisoner on the way to the executioners block. I had to get rid of this negativity. i had to try. I slouched on the chair outside the treatment room, waiting for my name to be shouted. A few of the older and worse patients were watching TV. I looked at their facing staring blankly at the set. How do they do it? All of them are on antipsychotics and they just get on with it. That's all some of them do though, just stare at the TV in their pyjamas. I can't work out if they know what's going on or braver than me, stronger than me? Probably both, more so the latter.

 I heard my name and got my meds. I saw a new little pink one, poking out of the crowd of pills in the paper cup. 'This is a new one for me. I'm excited for the sleep but not the weight gain!' I joked. She just smiled and shrugged her shoulders. I took a deep breath and knock it back. Then nothing. I don't know what I expected. The whole world to change? To die? Everything was exactly the same. An hour passed and still nothing happened. I was just sat watching TV and very much still myself. 

 I got up to go to the kitchen and that's when I noticed the change. Fuzzy. Everything was fuzzy. From the floor tiles to door frames everything was like a slow slide show, doubled and swayed. I felt like static, my brain full of white noise. I stumbled into the kitchen but it was too bright so I abandoned my cup and made my way to my room. I felt as though i was walking through water. A 5 second journey turned into a 5 mile march of white corridor. I have spent more time in a drug fuelled trip wandering round hospital corridors than I have house parties this year. 

 I finally made it into bed and turned out the lights. Everything was better now. The white noise was quieter. Calm. The world has righted itself. The last thing I remember before falling asleep was my legs feeling hot against the bed sheet.

 *****

 I've just woke up. I can't get up

  It was two hours later and I was still struggling to move. Every twitch of my leg and flex of my arm made me feel sick. I needed the toilet, I had to move. My mouth was sandpaper dry, I needed some water, I had to move. I eventually pulled myself up and felt better I thought- until I stood up. It felt like my heart was going to explode through my chest. All my extremities tingled. I edged my way to the toilet using the wall as a frame and finally reached the bowl. That was the best piss I ever had. I looked over the mirror. I looked awful. Every time I closed my eyes I could see the veins pulsing across my eyelids and in my reflection that is what I saw. Blood shot eyes, the negative of what I saw in the blink, like a fingerprint. I got up and shuffled to the door.

 The hallway was white. Too white. My heart felt like it was beating into my legs, each step a slow and heavy thump. The pressure in my chest was radiating down from my head which was locked in an invisible vice. The heaviness of my head led the way as I went to find help. 'I don't feel very well' I said when I finally reached the dining room hatch. One of the nurses took my arm 'oh dear' she said 'Coincidence has it, a doctor is here, I'll get him to take a look at you, don't worry'. I lent in her shoulder and she grabbed me gently by the arm and steadily walked me to the treatment room. 

 wilted on the bed, I blinked and there stood a figure leaning over me, face shrouded by the strip light behind, turning his features into a silhouette which was crowned by a halo. My eyes adjusted to the lights and distortion melted away. The silhouette was now replaced with a dark haired doctor. He looked early 30s. Quite cute actually. First attractive person I'd seen in ages and i was in this state. The nurse from before leaned over and pulled my top up. I then also realised I had my tits out. Great. Faces of Meth, faces of Maddie, there was very little distinction. 'Hold up your arms, put then together onto your chest and lift them up like chicken wings' he said. What. He must have seen my expression of disbelief and confusion as he showed me how. 'I'm not going to press on your elbows and you have to try and keep them up, okay?' He was very authoritative yet polite. I liked it. From there proceeded a number of resistance tests, pulling and pressing on various limbs. After a while he pulled out his stethoscope and listened to my chest before checking my blood pressure. Everything was a little bit high. 'You are experiencing some very strong side effects but you are okay but we'll mention this to the consultant. Try and get some rest' Rest. That is all anyway says but it doesn't seem to be working. The nurse helped me back up and I hauled myself back to bed.

 'Maddie can i come in?' The staff nurse shouted the door. 'You have your formulation meeting at 1 o'clock is that okay?' It was 12:30. Oh god, I had so much to say, so much to explain, so much persuading to do and I couldn't in this state. I was struggling slur through a sentence. mind fuzzy. I started to panic, the kick of adrenaline woke me up and I pulled on some clothes and lumbered to meeting room. It was time to formulate my formulation, see where my path was headed next, and I was not prepared.

 When I walked in I was greeted by four ladies all sat in perfect symmetry, two on each side. There was my mum, a staff nurse, the psychiatrist and a lady I didn't know. I looked at my mother who couldn't hide her concern at the state I'd walked in. 'I don't want to take olanzapine again, please don't make me' I pleaded before anyone could even begin. 'It is your body and I can see you are not well' I looked at Dr Khatri 'They have had an unusually adverse effect on you. In the pasts you have tried aripriprazole and quetiapine and there were not successful either. I don't think this medication is for you. I see no benefit to continuing'  she smiled at me. 'Thank you' I replied. Thank you didn't even cut it, thank you for the bottom of my heart. A wave of relief washed over me. I said previously they are not good for me but no one had really listened. I have the symptoms, they fix the symptoms but they don't suit me. Antipsychotics are anti-Maddie. 'We have decided to the observe and see how you go' she continued 'we will wait for the increase in lamotrogine to take effect and if you manage to have two nights full rest, you can go on weekend leave and if that is successful we can discuss discharge' even better! This was the plan. This is want I wanted. I struggled to hold back tears as I thanked her. The lady was finally introduced to me. She was my work liaison officer. The thing is, and the thing you may not believe is, I am full time employed. Up until a while ago I was just like you. A Starbucks drinking, Tesco raiding, selfie taking, endless consumer. I was the one who accidentally walked into you in a heaving pool of people in primark. I am the person who sat opposite you on the train. A 'mutual friend',  a 'someone you might know'.

 Mental illness believes in equality. It doesn't judge or have prejudice. It will simply strike any of us at any moment. A monster lurking in the dark.

 For a while I’d felt like my life had been stagnant and now it was the most static and stagnant it’s ever been. I needed to get out.

 For the rest of the meeting I stayed slumped in my chair, the drugs still flowing through my veins. I watched them speak, their mouths moved but blurred sounds came out from far away. Dr Khatri hand grabbed mine and shook it, our faces smiling simultaneously. The plan was complete. The formulation; I just had to sleep. Not that hard right?

 *****

 I’m trying to sleep but It’s raining. It’s raining so hard. I overheard something about a storm earlier, about the sky turning yellow? I don’t know. It’s not just me that’s gone crazy recently, it’s the whole world. I couldn’t sleep though it like the slow motion crush of a car bonnet crumpling into a wall in a crash test simulation, dummy falling and bending inside.

 Suddenly silence. I flipped open the curtain next to me, only blackness peered back in. No rain.

 From behind me I heard the pitter patter of quick footsteps down the corridor and quickly flung myself into bed and pretended to be asleep. A few seconds later I heard the shutter fold up, the flash of a light and felt the eyes of a nurse observe me for a moment before moving on. I heard the shutter slap down I rolled over. Try again.

 I lay in the darkness, it buzzing around me like bees trying to shut down. Even if I don’t sleep even if they just think I have slept I can leave. I wasn’t going to move but then I heard the tapping. It was coming from outside of my window. Tap, tap, tap. I got up and went to the bathroom and slid under the sink, curling into a ball. Tap, tap, tap. I closed my eyes and breathed.

 I wont tell them about this

[sethmacsexy20]

Different Worlds Closure

The next day, we drove to my parents' house.  We pulled up and we got out.  We got the boys out as well and walked up the porch steps.  Just then, my mother walked out.  She hugged us and saw the twins and right away gushed over them.  "Oh, Mary.  They are beautiful.  Just perfect."

I smiled at her.  "Thanks, mom."

She quickly ushered us inside.  Seth and I walked in with the boys.  My dad walked up to us and smiled.  "There is my girl."

"Hey, daddy."  I smiled.

He looked at the boys.  Christian was wide awake in my arms, Damien was asleep in Seth's.  My dad said, "They are some mighty handsome boys you two have there."

"They take after Seth after all.  At least in the looks department."  I said to him.

Seth joked, "Poor guys."

My dad chuckled at this.  He then took Christian into his arms and said, "Come to grandpa."

Christian smiled at him as he looked up at him.  My dad smiled at him.  Then he asked, "How long has Damien been out?"

"He has been sleeping a lot since we landed.  I thought it was cause he screamed the whole plane ride here that he slept so well through the night but he has been sleeping most of the morning too.  I am beginning to worry that he might be getting sick."  I said, concerned.

My mother walked over to him and touched his forehead.  "He is a little warm, honey."  She removed her hand and gave me a reassuring smile, "We'll keep an eye on him.  If he gets worse, we will get Doctor Williams to see him."

I nodded as I smiled, feeling a little better.  "Okay."

Then my dad said, "Come sit down.  I am sure you two want to rest."

We all moved to the living room and all sat down.  My mom then asked, "So how has it been, now that your lives have changed so much in the last six months.  First getting married, then thrown into parenthood."

"Really different.  But we are adjusting."  I said with a smile.

"Yeah, adjusting well to the sleepless nights."  Seth cracked.

I looked at him and playful slapped his shoulder.  Then my mom said with a smile, "The twins won't always do this and you will actually miss those nights cause they won’t be so little anymore."

Just then Damien started to stir.  Seth quickly said to me, "Babe, you might want to get him."

Then my father asked, "Why does she need to get him?"

"Since he hasn't been feeling well, he has only wants his mother.  If I hold him, he screams.  He is at least calm with her."  Seth informed him.

I took Damien from him and he instantly cried.  I quickly went to sooth him and he calmed.  My mom walked over and held out her arms.  "Let me have my grandson."

I was unsure as he didn't feel well.  "I don't know, mom.  He really is cranky."

She smiled.  "It's okay, honey.  I can handle him."

She took him out of my arms and instantly he screamed.  I hated to hear my baby cry.  My mom slightly bounced him and soothed him.  He slowly calmed.  He finally stopped crying.  Seth said, "Okay, what is it about you woman that gets babies to calm so easily?"

My mom smiled.  "It's second nature to us."

A few hours went by, Damien got worse.  I grew concerned.  I walked in the kitchen as Damien was screaming.  He had been for a half an hour.  "Mom, he is getting worse.  He won't stop crying.  I don't know what to do."

I was nearly in tears.  She walked over to me and took him from my arms.  "First of all, calm down.  Babies can feel what you feel.  Getting upset makes him more upset."  She bounced him as he calmed and looked over at me as I calmed myself.  She then looked back at Damien and felt his head again.  "Honey, he is burning up."

I got upset again.  She quickly handed him to me and said, "I'm going to call Dr. Williams."

I just nodded as I kissed the top of my son's head.  I felt the heat from his head and grew more concern.  My mom grabbed her house phone and dialed a number.  She listened and finally said, "Dr. Williams, it's Elizabeth."  She listened for a moment.  "I am doing well.  But this isn't a social call.  My daughter is here visiting with her twins and one of them has a fever.  He is burning up.  It is very concerning.  Is there anyway you can see him as soon as possible."  She listened again and said with a smile, "Thank you so much, Dr. Williams."

She hung up and looked at me.  She said, "Dr. Williams said to go right away to his office and he will see you."

I nodded.  We both walked into the living where my dad, Seth, and Christian were.  I told Seth, "I'm taking Damien to Dr. Williams."

He quickly stood up.  "I'm going."

"Baby, I really don't want Christian in a doctor's office with all those germs.  One sick kid is bad enough, we don't need to get Christian sick."  I told him.

"But I can't stay here and not know what is going on."  He seemed upset.

My mom quickly stepped in.  "We will take care of Christian."

"Are you sure?"  I asked.

"Yes, you two go see what is wrong with Damien."  She said, sweetly.  "Your father and I will look after Christian."

Seth quickly said as he walked over and grabbed Damien, "It's settled then."

I just nodded and gave what my mom needed to look after him.  We quickly left and got to the doctor's office.  There was no one there so we got back there quickly.  Dr. Williams walked in as we waited in a room.  He looked at me and smiled.  "Mary, look at you.  All grown up and have a family of your own."

I just gave a small smile.  Then he asked, "So, what is wrong with this little guy?"

Damien was laying on the table as we were right next to him.  I said, concerned, "He is burning up and he is crying all the time.  He will only sleep when he isn't up and crying and won't eat."

"Ah."  He looked at Damien and took his temperature.  It was 100.5.  I grew more concern.  Then he looked over him and once he looked into his ears, he almost announced, "Well, I have found the problem."

"What?"  I asked.

"Seems like little Damien here has a double ear infection.  It's awful painful for babies and really hurts for them to eat is probably why he will not eat.  I will prescribe an antibiotic.  But if you don't mind, can I give him baby Tylenol?  It will bring the fever down and help with the pain."  He told me.

Seth quickly answered, "By all means."

He grabbed a bottle of medicine and a syringe.  He filled it with the medicine and put the syringe in Damien's mouth.  He slow pushed it down and Damien drank the medicine.  He then informed us, "You might want to get some as well as it can take the antibiotics will about twenty four hours to take affect.  So, you can give him the Tylenol every four hours till his fever breaks."

I nodded and Seth said, "Thank you, doctor."

I picked up Damien and held him.  Soon the Dr. Williams gave us the prescription and we left.  We walked down the block as I remembered that there was a pharmacy there.  We got Damien's prescription filled and got some Tylenol as well.  We walked out and Damien already was acting like himself again.  I smiled at this.  Seth then said, "Here, give me him since he is in a good mood now and probably let me finally hold him."

I handed Damien to Seth and Damien smiled at him as he reached for him.  Yeah, Damien was feeling better just from the Tylenol alone.  I grew a little sad.  Seth took noticed.  "What's wrong, baby?"

"I'm his mother.  I didn't even know he was sick at first.  My mom had to point it out.  I really am a horrible mother."  I was on the verge of tears.

Seth moved his free arm around me.  "Baby, I didn't know it either.  We are still learning.  He is going to be okay.  Now we know.  Don't beat yourself up."

I just nodded.  Then Seth looked around.  "You know, this is a nice little town here.  Seems like everyone knows everyone."

I looked around the block and smiled.  "Cause they do."  Then I looked at Seth.  "Dr. Williams was my doctor when I was a baby and kid.  He has been our doctor here for over thirty years.  This place is what you see in movies and think they can’t be real but I know those places are real as I grew up in one.  I loved it until...well, you know."

He smiled at me.  "But that is behind you now.  You have me and the boys now.  I think you did pretty well for yourself after all the shit you have been through."

I moved in and gave him a small kiss.  "I have done pretty damn well.  I say I am one lucky woman."

Seth just kept smiling at me.  Then I heard a familiar voice behind me, "Mary, is that you?"

I turned and was looking at Eric.  I actually had no feelings looking at him as I really did move past it all.  I smiled at him.  "Hey, Eric.  How are you?"

"Um, good.  Good.  And you?"  He asked.

"I'm actually great."  I said, happily.

"That's good to hear."  He smiled but I could tell it was a front.

Then he noticed Seth.  "Hey, Seth."

"Hey."  Seth only said.

"Congratulations on your marriage."  He said to us.

I smiled at him.  "Thank you."

Then he looked at our son in Seth's arms.  "Is he yours?"  He asked.

I looked up at Damien and took his little hand with mine.  "Yeah, this is Damien.  We have another son, Christian, who is at home with my parents.  They are twins actually.  This little guy wasn't feeling good so we took him to Dr. Williams.  Just was getting his meds and heading back to my parents' to our other son."

He looked confused.  "I thought you couldn't..."

I quickly interjected, "I can't.  We had a surrogate."

"Oh."  He said.  He looked down as though he might be ashamed.  

I actually felt bad and asked, "How are Katrina and the kids?"

"Katrina and I got a divorce a few years ago.  I see the kids every other weekend.  But they are good."  He said, sadly.

I said, sympathetically, "Oh, I am so sorry to hear that."

Then he looked over at Seth a little uneasy and then at me.  He asked, "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

I looked over at Seth who didn't seem thrilled about it.  I said, "Baby, can you take Damien to the car?  I don't want him out here too long with him not feeling well."

He just nodded then looked at Eric sternly.  Then he looked at me and gave me a small kiss.  He moved away to leave Eric alone.  Eric cautiously moved a couple steps closer to me.  He ran his fingers through his hair and looked at the ground as he seemed lost.  He looked back at me and said, softly, "I'm sorry, Mary.  For everything that I did.  I was an asshole.  Katrina was a listening ear then next thing I know our affair started.  She got pregnant.  I couldn't leave her like that.  After what happened to Max, I wanted that so badly.  I married her thinking it was the right thing to do.  And cause I thought I would get the family I wanted.  But she wasn't you, she was so different.  She was mean and hateful.  I turned to alcohol which made things worse for both of us.  We fought and finally I had to end it.  It was more harmful to the kids that we were that way."  He stepped closer to me and took my hand.  He looked into my eyes with such sadness and regret.  "I wish I didn't let the pain of losing our son push away the one person that meant the most to me.  I miss us, Mary.  I still love you.  I never stopped."

I pulled my hand away slowly and took a step back.  "Eric, you lost your chance.  I moved on.  I am happy now.  Seth makes me happy.  I did love you once but I don't anymore.  I love Seth.  You pushed me away when I tried to talk to you about what happen with our son.  But you wouldn't.  You choose to run to my best friend."

"Cause I didn't know how to talk to you.  You were in so much pain and I was afraid talking about it would make the pain worse with you."  He said to me.

I quickly informed him.  "But it wouldn't have.  It would have helped me heal a lot better and I know this cause..." I looked down and sighed.  Then I looked at him.  "Cause Seth and I went through the same thing.  I got pregnant with our baby.  I lost her too."

"I'm so sorry, Mary."  Eric said, sympathetically.

"But, he stood by me and we went through the pain together.  We leaned on each other as we needed.  It helped with the healing process.  Hell, he even help me heal from losing Max.  Seth did all that.  He was my rock and I was his.  I needed that.  Just like I needed that from you when we lost Max.  But you choose not to be there.  You made your own bed, Eric, now you have to lie in it."  I turned to walk off and I stopped.  I turned back to him and asked, "I have to ask, why in the hell would you name your other son after our son?"

He looked away, almost ashamed.  "It wasn't my doing.  Katrina did that without my knowledge.  It was already done by the time I found out.  I was so angry with her.  She was so jealous of you cause she knew I still loved you.  She wanted to just one up you.  I wasn't okay with it, Mary.  I promise.  But she wouldn't budge.  I didn't want to replace our son and I felt like Katrina was trying to force me to do that.  I really am sorry about that, Mary.  I truly am."

I saw it in his eyes, he was.  I just gave him a nod in understanding then walked off.  I got to the car and got in as I felt Seth's eyes on me.  He asked, "So, what was that about?"

I looked over at him and said, "He needed closure.  I gave him just that."

"So, I don't have to be worried."  He asked.

I looked into his eyes and saw the worry there.  I didn't understand why he was so worried about someone who caused me so much pain.  I just moved in and kissed him deeply.  I pulled away, slightly, and looked at him.  I smiled and said, softly, "Never, baby."

He smiled back at me as the worried disappear and moved back in as he took my lips again.

Previous Chapter / Masterlist / Next Chapter

[solemnrosary]

You know what? I’m bored and I want to pretend that I’m vaguely interesting. So without further ado; 65 Questions!

Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you? - Nah, I doubt my own existence and meaning the most. I have no reason to doubt anyone else’s existence, because I sure as hell couldn’t make such lovely cheery things.

On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you? - 2, because I can’t see. I have terrible night-vision that takes ages to jostle on. So I end up navigating by visual and spacial memory if I need to walk around. Because I have my own system for storing items and leaving them about, I end up remembering my surroundings very well. 

The person you would never want to meet? - Anyone who doesn’t meet my basic moral requirements. 

What is your favorite word? -  In French, it’d be argent, since silver is pretty and I love how it’s pronounced. In English, plethora, for similar reasons. Finnish is harder to pick.. hmmmh, hurma?

If you were a type of tree, what would you be? - what is known here as “The silver willow”, which is a variation of the white willow (salix alba), that has silvery bluish sheen to it’s leaves and a darker tree trunk. Salix alba var. sericea 'Sibirica'. Sometimes 'Argentea' ja 'Sericea' are also considered to be of the same variation. If I was a flower, I think I’d like to be the Eden climbing rose or a marigold.

When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought? - my face is bloated again, I guess the meds didn’t absorb properly. 

What shirt are you wearing? - dark blue men’s print shirt that doubles as a pyjama 

What do you label yourself as? - Agender, nonbinary, trans, bi and a problem. 

Bright room or dark room? - dim room. 

What were you doing at midnight last night? - myself

Favorite age you’ve been so far? - the now. I moved into another city away from my family, closer to my dear friend, so- it’s a whole lot better. Emotional turbulence is easing a little too. 

Who told you they loved you last? - ... my emotionally abusive family. 

Your worst enemy? - myself and the bigoted society. 

What is your current desktop picture? - a cat skull I painted myself. 

Do you like someone? - I do, I like many people. My friends, my brothers and grandma.

The last song you listened to? - I love you by Woodkid. It’s a mood.

You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up? - dorito. 

Who would you really like to just punch in the face? - I’d rather not damage my hands. 

If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do? - That sounds absolutely dreadful, no I don’t want to have anyone do anything they do not wish to do. It’s about consent, not-consenting is not funny or desirable to me in any way.  Now if you were to give me a butler, who has personal agency to say no and, perhaps, a snarky attitude- I really would love to be pampered a little. just- being held and taken care of would be nice. It doesn’t have to be anything non-platonic but I wouldn’t mind if it was? Gentle snark, reassurance, maybe a massage, please. 

What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional) - Strong legs? I suppose my butt’s nice too. I like the curve of my back? Hands and eyes? it’s a very subjective question for someone who doesn’t like themselves. 

If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do? - find a way not to change back, thank you! finally, the correct bits. Don’t mind if I do. 

Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it? - I can’t.. think of any? Nothing that’d be a secret anyway. Unless walking so quietly that I startle people sometimes counts? I don’t do that on purpose, though. Being so oblivious to something I end up bypassing it’s complications by sheer force of will? 

What is one unique thing you’re afraid of? - I’m usually not afraid of any tangible things, only general things like pain and being abandoned by the people I love. Or never being accepted and loved in general. I’ve been working through haphephobia for years, but specifically; I’m afraid that my fear of touch will smear itself onto the relationships I feel the most comfortable and myself in. I can’t help flinching, it’s still instinctual, and I can’t tolerate a whole lot of contact from most people- but the longer I go without any contact, the more I fear that next time it’ll burn again. I almost regret telling my friends that I have haphephobia, because instead of asking if I’m okay with something, now I’m just- deprived of contact all together. It’s fairly hard to teach the brain that something is normal and okay when it’s never there at all. 

You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal. - OH- definitely begin with some kickass, fresh-baked oat loaf, one you’ve bought that morning. Slice it thick, because it’s soft and divine. As for fillings, I am torn between several types of fish. Gravlax is amazing in itself, but smoked salmon in mayo with diced cucumber, lemon juice, dill, green onion, maybe celery sounds superb. or tuna in tomato purée, with freshly diced chives and tiny bit of mayo to balance the tang, if you want a simpler filling.  For salad bits; salad, cucumber, tomato, red onion, red bellpepper.   Optionally, some bacon and mushroom salad (it’s made from home-salted mushrooms that have been de-salted once, with diced red onion, mayo, maybe dijon, and white pepper. I make the best damn mushroom salad)  As for cheese, feta crumbs, mozzarella slices or a pan-crisp goat cheese button. For sauce, I prefer garlic or cucumber mayo, or even a yogurt sauce.  on top, a slightly gooey fried egg seasoned with citron-pepper and chili (so that the yolk may graze all the goodness). If you wish to be decadent as hell, throw some diced garlic, butter and yellow onion onto a pan, crisp it, throw it on top of all and then throw some choice sauces on it.  Even without the salmon filling, the bacon and mushroom salad with the rest makes for the best damn experience you could have whilst eating a sandwich. 

You just found $100! How are you going to spend it? - Save half, buy food and something for my friend. 

You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go? - no thanks, all my goods are here. But Norway and Iceland would be nice one day.

An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be? - uhhhhh, I don’t usually drink alcohol cause I can’t stand the taste. I’ve known to very rarely have a long-drink or a lemonade-esque thing though. So maybe Smirnoff ICE, If I was to drink it myself. Otherwise, rum or hard spirits like, a vodka of some kind, cause they are fairly versatile to use in emergencies, to bake with, or to gift. 

You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place? - Be kind. 

What is your favorite expletive? - Saatana or perkele. I am a finn after all. 

Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno? - computer. It is the most expensive one and it has all my art of info in it, so it’s very obvious. That or my important papers file. 

You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be? - one would not be enough to erase the damage I suffer from today. I would erase being born, if given free choice. 

You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world! - I’d find a remote community in an area, have a cottage and just. I dunno, do art, bake and have a garden for fruits and cool projects. I’d make my own earthen oven. A big cast-iron pan. 

The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back? - Grandma. Her shitty husband bullied her in her last year while she was dying to breast cancer. I love her, and she deserved better.  

What was your last dream about? - [Trigger warning, this gets extreme] I was belly-down on the ground, grabbed by the throat from behind. I wrangled one hand off, but every time I managed to get both, one of those hands would slip my grasp and choke me again. I barely got a single breath between. This went on and on and on. I cried for help and reached out, only for someone to grab my hand in disdain, saying something like ‘tsh, fine. Cry then.’ They held my hand in a way that their nails dug into that hand. I no longer had both hands to pry the assaulter’s hands away. I slowly choked to death.   I woke up and hand to claw at my own hand just to breathe through my panic. I felt those hands on my throat for days. This is, unfortunately, normal for me.

Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]? - No.

Have you ever been admitted to the hospital? - I have an autoimmune condition that has hospitalized and nearly killed me on several occasions. So yes. I take that in strides.

Have you ever built a snowman? - Yes, with my brothers. It was nice.

What is the color of your socks? - Black, always

What type of music do you like? - Anything between rock, pop, folk and classical. Violin music in particular.

Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets? - Both are nice

What is your favorite milkshake flavor? - chocolate or blueberry

What football team do you support? - I don’t watch football

Do you have any scars? - Yes. Stretch marks, old wounds, new wounds. I have a scar behind my left ear that if you were to touch it, you’d notice it has a split beneath it on the skull from how hard it was hit. I fell on a radiator edge when I was younger and almost lost my ear from it, got three stitches. I also have a scar below from a biking accident, couldn’t sit for a few weeks.

What do you want to be when you graduate? - Already did, and the answer is odd jobs and nothing, apparently.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? - torn between ‘existence’ and ‘bodily gender’

Are you reliable? - Yes and no. I will keep any secret and help out whenever I can but would I trust myself to handle anything I care about? No. 

If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be? - Does it get better?

Do you hold grudges? - I do not forget, but I do not dwell. 

If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create? - A cat and a duck. The ultimate bastard. 

What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had? - the one where a stalker told me they’d dug every information they could find for two weeks before talking to me. They asked for my home address in 30 different ways, apparently hoping I’d forget I’d said no. They proceeded to hand me a yaoi manga as a souvenir from a con. I felt vaguely threatened. 

Are you a good liar? - hmm. I try not to lie, If I don’t want to answer I’ll dodge or say I don’t want to answer. But, I suppose I am, for being able to hide half the things that I’ve been able to.

How long could you go without talking? - I begin talking out loud to fill out soundless spaces, so not a whole lot. 

What has been you worst haircut/style? - ‘I want to speak to the manager’ and ‘little timmy is the best soccer player in his class’ 

Have you ever baked your own cake? - I baked most of everything back at my parents, so yes. 

Can you do any accents other than your own? - funny ones, mostly

What do you like on your toast? - spread, ham, cheese, tomato, cucumber, aromasalt, fried egg  - spread, liver patée, cucumber and aromasalt/pickles - spread, gravlax/tuna/salmon - spread, boiled egg slices, pickled herring (they come in jars, I prefer onion ones) in thinner slices, I add extra dill into the jars when I open them so they can marinate more. 

What is the last thing you drew a picture of? - currently working on a personal WIP

What would be you dream car? - A car that someone else drives. With air conditioning. 

Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain. - no and no. I shower and then I’m done. I don’t like my voice, nor my body, nor wasting water. I do wash thoroughly though.

Do you believe in aliens? - It doesn’t interest me at all whether or not there is or isn’t. 

Do you often read your horoscope? - only if it’s the only thing left to read or if it’s just readily visible without me looking for it. I think they’re bogus, but sometimes admittedly silly.

What is your favorite letter of the alphabet? - H or lowercase T, because I write them very loopy. 

Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons? - They’re both cool in their own ways. A dinosaur is way bigger but as fantasy creatures dragons can fly, breathe elements and shape-shift though, hard to top that. 

What do you think about babies? - Ew.

Tell something of your choice - If I had a cat, I’d name it Mishka or Meowkolash or Umi (sa, umineko ga inai to, “Umi” neko ga onaka ga suite iru) because I’m a nerd who loves umineko and bad jokes. 

[the-lady-bryan]

Weird Dream - 11/4/2019 - the one where i think i met Merlin and had like,death magic?

Today’s weird ass dream woke my ass up at 3AM. I didn’t have any weird food before bed. no strong ass medication. no cold meds. no weird teas. just... normal sleep. fuck i don’t even REMEMBER falling asleep. Anyway, it has magic, sort of? and gender swapping. and i’m gonna do something i don’t normally do and put it behind the cut with a warning: i do have gender dysphoria. i have struggled with this for a very VERY long time. this dream has a gender swap of myself that, after writing it all down, i feel strongly represents this personal issue in my subconscious. if such things make you uncomfortable, or you for some reason feel your opinion on dysphoria matters to anyone outside yourself, then this is not the place for you and i am not the droid you’re looking for.

anyway, i think i met merlin, had some kind of death magic, and got a really rad cloak that i still don’t know exactly what it looked like other than it had been fur lined and was black. but there was more to it that everyone else saw that i did not.

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

there's a train. i am myself.

i'm riding a train in an old box car all hobo style.

i end up getting off at a train yard. there is a young man with me. his name is justin. it turns out he's quite handsome. he's also one of my oldest friends - i recall i've been friends with him since the second grade. we grew up together on the same hill in georgia. he had moved away when we were in 7th grade. i have not seen him since until this very train ride. he got on in New York.

we walk from the train yard following an old abandoned rail line, as some map has told us to do. we come to an old train station that's been converted into a rest station. i meet my husband here.

my husband is happy to see me. he tells me that he's had to pull a lot of strings and call in a lot of favors to "get me in" whatever that means. i ask if there's room for my friend, too. he tells me no and that we need to get going. i don't want to leave my friend behind, and i say as much. i tell my husband that my friend can at least walk with us until the point he can go no further. that once i'm in, maybe i can talk to someone to let him in, too. my husband says no, that's not how it works. i bid farewell to my friend as he is setting up camp in the rest station. i tell him what's going on and that i'll be back for him.

i leave with my husband leading the way down a side alley between the rest station and a field. we walk and walk and up ahead is two buildings. one shimmers into view and i'm told "thats the school." and i know that this is some magic school that i've been brought to. the other building my husband calls "barracks" and it's to here he leads me. i'm left on the porch of this old farmhouse looking place. i meet a little boy, and i talk to him some and he encourages me to step inside. so i do. the boy leads me to an empty room, and tells me i should unpack. initiation will be that evening just after sundown. i talk to the boy about "initiation" and he tells me it's something everyone there went through. i laugh and say i must be joining a cult or something and the boy laughs with me. our laughter brings some people to my door, and i'm unpacking. i finish unpacking and notice that my bed is a twin, not a double. this bothers me but i cannot bring myself to say anything. i meet the people, and they show off what magic they do. i'm told very little about this "initiation" thing, other than to come looking how i see myself in my head. the sun starts to set and my housemates leave. i look for the boy that had met me on the porch but he is nowhere to be found.

i find that my room, unlike most in this house, has a private bath. it's small, and has only a toilet, sink, and standing shower. but that's fine with me. it's all i need. i clean up from my long journey. i think about my old friend waiting at the rest station. i'll get in, get through initiation or whatever, and then i'll see what i can do about retrieving him and bringing him to the school as well.

leaving the shower, i find there's things laid out for me. things i don't own. and i'm confused at first until i find a letter on top that says "you didn't own anything that matches what's in your head. so this is for you." the note is in my husband's handwriting. it's as difficult to read as ever.

i look through all my clothes though and still don't find quite what i want. so i turn to what's on the bed and find it's oddly like, medieval men's wear. think like, the show Merlin, and similarly to what Merlin himself wears. no neckerchief though. the leathers are nice and soft, but sturdy. before i do anything though, i dig through my things to find that something important is missing. and i'm pissed as hell about it. i end up going back to the stuff on the bed, and find among them a modern piece of equipment. a binder. so i'm like alright. i get this on, then i pull on the clothes that were left out for me. i take a pair of scissors and i trim my hair down. its half-way down my back. i cut it to just around my shoulders. it's wild and curly, but i tie it back with a piece of cloth i've ripped from one of my old shirts. finished, and without looking into a mirror, i put on my boots, which haven't been replaced. these are the same shoes i arrived in, and i head out of my room.

the boy is there. everyone else has gone. he tells me he'll lead me to the school. i ask after my husband, and the boy says he's already down there, waiting for me. the thought that he's gone on ahead of me without once checking to see if i was settling in hurts. but i refuse to show it. i go down the winding path with the boy to the school. by the time we've arrived, we're both laughing. we hear chanting and like, music? it's some language i don't understand, and the boy says it's started and to follow the sound. i ask him to come with me, and he says he can't. this is as far as he can go. i have to do this alone.

so i do. i follow the sound all over the place, and when i finally find them all, everyone's dressed so radically different from one another. yet everyone looks the same as before back at the house. there are others, i realize. older people. all old and gray. the old people are all in dark colored robes. each one wearing a different color. it's now that i notice there's 12 alcoves and a statue in each alcove. there's 25 people in the room with me. i find myself in the center of this room. there's a stone platform and on this platform is an altar. incense burning, candles going, the whole nine yards, once i've arrived, everyone sort of tapers off what they're doing and gives the man at the altar their full attention. nowhere do i see my husband. this has me concerned, but not yet worried.

stuff happens that i can't quite recall all of. but at some point during it, the older people there are called on and told that whomever would take me on as theirs must come forward after i demonstrate my skill. and so i do some magic. and it frightens literally everyone when i do. even the person at the altar. no one will come forward. not a damn one. i resolve myself to going back to house, packing my things, and heading back up to the rest station - my initiation has failed.

and then there's a grumble and a grinding of stone and the room changes. and there's now a 13th alcove and statue. and everyone is fucking shocked. they have no damn clue this could even happen. and there's a voice, old and croaky from disuse. and out staggers this old as balls man. and he yawns and stretches and his joints pop and he hobbles over with the help of a staff. and he looks me over. and he's walking around me. and he says something that literally no one understands. and then he holds his hand out and a colorful cloak, lined with fur jumps to his hand, and he indicates to me that i'll have to kneel because i'm a bit too tall. so i do, and he drapes this cloak over my shoulders. everyone else is in robes over their attire, mind. but i get a lovely fur lined cloak.

everyone in the room behind me gasps, many of them in fright. some - mostly the older people - in utter disbelief. my cloak, which had arrived in the man's hand a dark orange, had turned black as pitch once it had settled on my shoulders. the man slams his staff against the stone floor three times, and i can feel my body starting to change. The man speaks to me in that language i don't understand again and i look up, and see he's holding a mirror. so i look into it and it's an entirely different person staring back at me. it's me, but it's not. but it really is. and now i understand why i was told to dress the way i see myself in my head. my hair isn't as frizzy. my binder doesn't even fit anymore because there's nothing to bind. and boy am i gonna have to buy a lot of new underwear. i've got muscles. i've got facial hair that doesn't look like a fucking patchy mistake of nature. i'm trying not to fucking cry. i could kiss this weird, dusty old man. and the man's just standing there grinning. the mirror disappears and he hands me his staff. and then he returns to the alcove. i shout for him to wait, and he stops to turn and look at me. and for a split second i don't see an old man looking at me. i see a young man and there's gold in his bluest of blue eyes. and then he's old again and he goes into the alcove and the alcove and its statue disappears.

i turn to the others, confused as fuck as to what just happened. and they're all staring at me. many in fright but others are nearly as confused as i am. "What the fuck was that?" and that's when i notice my voice has changed, too. it's deeper. and the man at the altar comes to me and he says "there is no place for you here. you have no need of us." and i don't understand. i turn to all the others, and the older ones bow low and refuse to look at me. the younger people also bow, but only because the older ones do. and i'm like "what the actual fuck is going on here?"

and so the altar guy bows as well and i'm telling him to get up and he flat out won't.

i end up leaving, seeing the boy in the entrance to this place and i'm angry as hell. the boy leads me to a place to think and cool off my temper. and it's a lovely garden and fountain area. i sit here and seethe and the night drags on. after a few hours, i'm still angry, and simmeing and seething and i hear a familiar laugh. "You always could get worked up over stupid shit." and when i look up, it's my husband. and i'm still so angry i shout at him. and i call him a liar. and he says that he got me in the door. he never said they'd let me stay. and i'm super pissed off about it because technically he's right. and it's always technically with him. always has been, and always will be. i try to get him to tell me where he was during the initiation fuck up, and he says he was there. and i tell him i looked for him but he wasn't. and he insists that he was, in fact, there, and points out there was an extra statue and a weird old wizard. so yeah, he was there.

he tells me to go back to that chamber after the sun comes up, and i'll find out what's going on.

so i hang around until it's after dawn and i go back to the chamber. there's no one around so i start exploring. and i find that each of the statues is really... an actual person. frozen in stone. i find the statue of the boy that had been so fun to be around, and the plaque beneath his statue gives his name and his date of birth and his date of death. and it calls him by some other name and lists an aspect of magic. and this is true for all 12 of the alcoves. i demand the chamber show me the 13th alcove. it does not. so i bang the staff on the floor three times, and the chamber responds. it opens up a wall, and there is the 13th statue. and there, in stone, is my husband, looking angrier than i've ever seen him. it's clear that whatever had happened to him, it was against his will. he's got chains on his wrists and his face is frozen in a snarl-like expression. and i start to cry. sure, my appearance has changed and i've got the body i've always wanted, i look how i've always seen myself, and i've got a cool cloak and staff and magic that i don't really know what to do with and had been hoping these assholes could help teach me to control it, but the price was the man who'd become a statue. the love of my life who'd gone to a goddamn sci-fi convention and had never come home.

and then the old man is there again, and he's comforting me. and he says in perfect fucking english that he pretended he didn't know english because these people were all assholes. i ask him who he is, and he says a very old man who understands my grief. and so me and the old man talk, and i learn that when a statue "claims" a person, it sends to them a mentor best suited to their magic. and whomever the first person the statue claims, the statue becomes the aspect of magic that person has dominion over. one statue says healing, another says fire, etc. but my husband's statue doesn't have one. i ask the old man what aspect of magic i wield. and the old man shrugs. he says i have to figure that out on my own. i ask him what happened to my husband, and why can i see him and the boy but they never appear around other people. and the man tells me that it's because they are dead and their souls are bound to this place. i ask that if i destroy the statues, will it free them, and the man says that it will not. i ask him how does he know, and he says that he was like me, once. a long time ago. and that the first statue wasn't set up here, it was set up elsewhere. and in time, another was added. and another. and soon, it was discovered that the man who made these statues had bound the person's soul to the earth, never to be freed. in his anger and his grief, the old man had destroyed each one, believing it would free the trapped souls. he was wrong. he had killed the maker of the statues, believing that would free them. again, he was wrong. he sought ways to free them for many years, and each time he came up empty handed.

i tell him i'll find a way. and he tells me there isn't one. i beg to differ, and he tells me that if there were, then magic would die out. i tell him that maybe it needs to if this is the price that's paid. human souls in exchange for power. he tells me that my husband thought so, too. and that's what got him turned into one of them. chained both in life and in death. i ask the man what the color of everyone's robes meant, and he says they represent the aspect of magic they wield. i ask him what black means. and he corrects me with a laugh and says "black and red" and i tell him to fuck off, it's been a long night and i haven't had time to look at the damn cloak yet. and so he tells me there's a sigil on the back in red on the field of black. and that the sigil doesn't matter much, its the colors. i ask him what red means, he says it doesn't mean the same for everyone. so, annoyed, i ask what black means. he says death of course. and then there's the sound of something striking stone. and i get up and look and in my husband's handwriting, the word "DEATH" has been neatly carved into the statues base. the old man asks me what red means, and i tell him, simply, that its none of his goddamn business what it means. it's different for everyone isn't' it. i vow to find a way to free my husband from his terrible fate, and the old man sighs. "fucking finally. do you have any idea how long i've been waiting for someone to say that?! fifteen hundred bloody years!" and he turns to dust and is gone.

the building rumbles, the ceiling starts to crumble, and i take one more look at my husband, the statue, and the chains are broken and his snarl is now this one look he always gets when he's proven right and we call it the "shit eating grin". i kiss the nearest part of the statue, his knee. "I love you. i'll make them pay for this." and then i've got to go because the whole place is coming down. i bolt, and there's others that look like the statues, and they're guiding me through the place to safety. and when i manage to get out, covered in dirt and stone dust, the entire building collapses into a sink hole. and i've got thirteen ghosts walking along with me up to the old farm house. and i can touch them and interact with them. the other magicians come out of the house. my shit is all thrown into the yard off the porch. so i conjure a bag and only get my most treasured and important things. then i look at the ghosts and tell them i have an idea. the ghosts seem to understand what i mean and then they're all gone, except my husband. there's a lot of screaming in the house and then there's silence. and the people that walk out are not the people that were living there. not anymore. i tell them to try and leave the property with me see if that allows them to leave. and so we do. we all leave. except my husband. he says he'll stay behind. after all, the souls that are left behind, bound to this farm house now, chained him up and turned him into a god damn statue. he wants some payback. i tell him i'll be back with a body for him, and he tells me no. he's gotten his revenge. he wants me to move on. after all, it's why he sort of summoned my old friend from second grade to travel with me.

so i go back to the rest station, and my friend is like "who the fuck are you?" because again - i look entirely different than i did the day before. and i tell him, and i do a bit of magic that i did on the train. and he's like "nah. still don't believe you." so i'm like "when we were nine, we were walking back to your place from Ina's and your brother was riding his bike and then he got hit by a car and the car chased us and for some fucking reason it ended up trying to run me, specifically down, and i got a black mark on the back of my leg from the burning rubber. and your brother seth got a metal plate in his ass. like, a whole damn metal plate. right in the left cheek. also, the car was a tan volkswagon that looked just like my brother's, but it wasn't my brother's because it needed a new battery at the time." and he's like "fuck! it really IS you! what the fuck! how the fuck?!" and so i'm telling him what happened. we pack up his stuff. i take off my cloak because it's fucking hot as balls, and pack it away. i take the opportunity to strip off my tops and get the binder off because i don't need it anymore, and then get re-dressed.

i woke up when me and justin found our way back to the train yard to continue our travels.

[againjack]

Crumbs

Friday night I got an apology from Colby for being so unresponsive. 

I had sent him pics of me looking hot for the board installation. His response? “Pretty.” A friend drunkenly told me, after seeing the same pic, that his response should have been along the lines of ‘holy wow, I’ll be there in ten to fuck your brains out.’ (I also got a lot of positive reaction at shul that night.)

He did agree to do dinner at my fav restaurant Sat evening though he mentioned he had to be at his shul for 8am Sunday morning. He wanted to see a movie either before or after the movie, but for theaters near me that just wasn’t a decent option due to timing, when the restaurant was open and how late he wanted to be up to. I told him let’s just focus on dinner for now. 

I did flatly tell him, “Please don’t let it slide so long again. I was really worried and upset. Especially since we had talked about the silence thing before.” His response was “:(”.Seriously?

We had a few texts Saturday morning. He then tried to get me to see the same movie (that I really didn’t want to see) nearer to him. When I asked how that worked with dinner near me he asked me to call him. 

Remember how a month ago I was watching his dog who got hurt. The dog had a serious injury years ago that left his back two legs “wobbly” so having one of his front legs also bad is Not Good. His dog got better, sorta. So he stopped worrying. But, part of that was giving the dog OCT pain meds twice a day. Two weeks ago Colby thought he could feel a lump of some sort on the dog’s shoulder - of that same front leg. This week the dog got worse with walking and stairs on that front leg, so he took him into the vet again, this time with xrays. 

After the weekend I watched him, and after Colby found the bump the vet couldn’t find anything, but this time the vet could feel it too. The xrays showed that there was a large calcified mass that was that bump. The only way to treat it is to amputate. Right now the dog is on heavier prescription pain meds; the vet confirmed that the dog is in a lot of pain but hiding it from Colby. There is no way that the front leg can be amputated with two bad back legs. He wouldn’t be able to get anywhere (water, etc) while Colby was at work. So now Colby is facing the hard truth that he may need put his dog down. He loves this dog so much. 

He shared that this is especially hard for him due to another imminent difficult loss in a very important part of his life that is expected in the next few months. He just can’t deal right now. He told me that he wouldn’t be a good dinner companion and just wanted to clear his head and have some time to have fun, so that he could teach his Hebrew school class (which he hasn’t taught this level in 7 years so he really needed to also catch up on the curriculum). This resulted in his asking that we do dinner and movie near him. 

He was sweet in saying he really wanted to see me and spend time with me (since he hadn’t since Monday morning when we parted ways for our respective jobs.) I didn’t feel I had much choice, either see him on his terms or don’t and be miserable myself while also unsupportive of him. 

I had been in a LOT of pain all day. I woke up in the most pain I’d been in since the car accident, and still had to go food shop for a 200 person BBQ. (Aka lots of heavy lifting of bulk foods/meats.) I also drove 1 hour each way to make an appearance at a friend’s kid’s bday party. I actually called while I was at the party, and elicited a funny reaction (I dropped the fork and piece of cake on it when the phone rang.) I made sure he knew that my giving up what I wanted to do, and needed to destress after I was to the point of CRYING on Friday (both due to him and due to a shul political issue), and being in so much pain that I wasn’t really happy to be the one to give up. Again. (Remember the unintended bait and switch from the gardens to the baseball game?) 

I left the kids bday party early, drove the hour home, packed and grabbed stuff I would need for Sunday morning as well as made sure MY dog had what she needed, then headed to him. I arrived and he was going over stuff upstairs. It sorta bugs me that he doesn’t really greet me when I arrive. He expects me to find him wherever he is in his place at the time.

We ended up buying tickets to a nearby theater (not his typical/preferred one) for the movie he wanted to see (and I was very clear that I did not want to see it) then went out to dinner. I had suggested a place we literally could have walked to from his place. Turns out, this place was hopping and we scored a rare walk in table, as normally reservations are needed two plus weeks in advance! But the service, drinks, and food were so worth it. We will be going back for sure! Though, of course we both got two drinks each and the big meals (as opposed to sandwiches) so the bill before tip was $100. I offered to take care of it since I had recommended it, when he looked at it he asked if we could split it. I don’t know if it was that I expected him as the guy to pay, that he made me change our plans to what HE wanted/needed over my wants/needs, that I was in pain and still stressed out, or a combination of those and more, but I was kinda disappointed and miffed that he wanted to split it. 

Getting to the theater was a trip. The way to do so was so round about and through some interesting (and not safe) areas. The theater was also very... ghetto. Nice bathroom and concession stand though. The movie ended up being WAY awesome. We had a lot of fun watching it together, witty comments back and forth, laughing over the same obscure references, etc.

On the drive back to his place, I confirmed how he had to leave early, and commented that I wasn’t sure what I would do since I couldn’t go home then to shul as it would be like 5 minutes at home before I would need to turn around, but it would be way too early to go to shul - never mind I was hurting so bad that I knew I wouldn’t sleep well or want to get up so early. He mentioned that he was ok with my staying at his place longer after he left. That then opened up a very awkward conversation. One that gave me some ugly insight. 

He was shocked that no one had made the same offer to me before. Especially since we knew were each others hidden keys are. But he felt that we weren’t at the having spare keys to each others places yet. (!!!) I did a double take and was REALLY hurt by this. I told him how I was ready to give him a spare key, but didn’t think it was worth it since he hardly ever comes up my way. (Which also is sorta hurtful. It is ALWAYS my going to him.) 

He wanted to stay up to go over his class stuff for the next day. I asked him if I should being my book to read where he was, rather than in bed. He said he would be up soon to not do that. I took more pain meds and showered to help relax my muscles. I crawled into bed and was nearly asleep by the time he came to bed. It was so weird (but not unexpected since he is a night owl) to have him in another room while I just did my own thing and to fall asleep in his bed without him. I was right in that I barely slept due to the pain.

As is typical, he took forever to get up including my having to say his name and poke him to get up and turn off the alarm a few times. I didn’t really wake or start to move until he was nearly done (like 45+ minutes from when he got up.) I ended up reading and eating breakfast when he left. He was very sweet and kissed me (our typical kiss - closed mouth) and wished me luck with the BBQ. Again, as I showered and finished getting myself together and chillaxing before going to my shul it was so weird to do so without him there. I had an emotional good bye with the dog, as I don’t know when, or if, I’ll see him again depending on when Colby makes the (obvious) decision to put him out of his misery. 

That evening as the BBQ was really kicking off he sent me a text, “You got this.” It was funny, I told my VP about it, and she asked if it was X number of minutes ago and when I was standing at Y place. I confirmed, and she laughed because she guessed as much when she saw my face light up and me get a huge shit eating grin. lol 

Colby’s cousin is a member of my shul so he was at the BBQ. Its funny, he and I have definitely formed a bond since I started dating Colby. He is friendlier toward me. It feels like a family relationship as opposed to a friend relationship. I know whenever he asks how I am he is really asking how things are going with Colby. Due to being stressed I slipped. I normally try to be vague and positive, because I know how Colby values his privacy and how careful he is about who/when/how knows about us. Instead, I told this cousin that things were good but slow and frustrating. Still vague, but not so positive.

I just don’t know right now. While he has done some good things and I do take into account his tough situation, I’m still not happy with the balance of it all. I care for him, and know he cares for me; though the fact he isn’t ready to swap keys makes me think he either is scared or feels way less about me than I thought he did. 

Never mind that he still hasn’t made much in the way of moves on me. I had thought I would make some serious teasing and moves on him Saturday night, but between the pain and exhaustion (and emotional hurt) and my other stresses, I just couldn’t. That and being nearly asleep by the time he came to bed didn’t help either. :P I did warn him that I would be stepping things up, I just haven’t been able to yet since I said it. lol

[dangergirl16]

why yes, I *have* changed

“I don’t know Shells, I feel like you have changed and I don’t know how to take things.” – a close friend

This is hard for me to write. Nothing about the last 6 months has been easy. Though if I’m being completely honest, nothing about the last 19 months has been particularly easy – for reasons that are directly related to me now being a mom.

It was around 19 months ago that my husband and I realized that making a  baby was not going to be as easy as we had been lead to believe. It was just the first realization of many that my life was changing in ways I couldn’t even begin to imagine or control (and being a mom showed me that I am, without a doubt, a control freak). 

I’m not writing today because of the hardships and heartache I endured (often privately) because of my own (unexplained) infertility diagnosis, though it definitely compounds my particular feelings postpartum. Getting here was harder than I ever thought possible. I am writing to attempt to articulate how one of the best and most joyous experiences of my life has also been one of the most painfully isolating (both physically and emotionally) and heartbreaking experiences I have had in my short 30 years.

For better or worse, my son was born by way of an unexpectedly painful and unplanned emergency c-section after laboring for a full 24 hours. Because my epidural did not function properly, I had the unfortunate experience of feeling everything on my right side. I have lost track now how many times my pain meds were increased or which drugs were added to the cocktail to give me some kind of relief. However, instead of relief, I was still in pain but now completely disoriented. I think the actual words I uttered through my mask of laughing gas is “I feel drunk” – a strange sensation for someone who hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol in almost a year.

When you are pregnant, everyone and their mother want to give you advice to prepare you for labor. I’m telling you now that it’s all shit and even the best laid plans go awry. I didn’t have an intricate birth plan. In fact, one of the OBs at my practice laughed in my face when I questioned if I should even have one. My only goal was to ensure both baby and myself were healthy at the end of the day. Little did I really realize, I had envisioned the birth, and I had a plan, and Pitocin, and vomiting from intense never-ending contractions, and a painful c-section were not part of that plan. I vaguely knew these things were a possibility and could occur, of course, but they were interventions for “other women”. Not me.

Ha. Hahahaha.

I am very grateful for my choice to get an epidural because I can only imagine what it would have felt like sans pain management when my doctor stitched up a torn septum or when he pushed my son back up the birth canal after he failed to descend further, despite over a full hour of pushing. Even at the moment I was told son would be surgically removed from my body, I was okay. This was not going as planned (why did I even bother with a plan?), but now I knew it was only a matter of minutes until my son was in my arms.

Except…he wasn’t.

After the anesthesiologist had come in to explain how my epidural would be used during the c-section, he was called into an emergency surgery originally estimated to take no more than 20-30 minutes. Over an hour passed, and there I lay fighting the near constant urge to push, breathing through each contraction and again thankful I only felt pressure.

Finally I was taken into the operating room and prepped for surgery. My spirit had diminished greatly from the time I stopped pushing to the moment they wheeled me in. I was ready to be done. I was so exhausted (it was now very early Tuesday morning and I had been admitted late Sunday evening). All of this and everything that lead to this moment was taking the joy away from the birth of my first child, something I had been picturing for almost 2 full years. This was not the beautiful birth I had envisioned.

Instead, I had a back spasm on the operating table. Instead, I vomited (again), this time from the anesthesia. Instead, I felt all the cutting and tugging as my son was removed from my uterus. I tried to be in the moment, to stare at him in awe, but it was difficult when my body was still open, the pain still present, and I didn’t even know which baby to kiss when he was thrust in my face (ie: I was seeing double).

The next moments are a blur. The pain meds were increased or changed once my son was safely out. I vaguely remember making a joke about getting a tummy tuck while my doctor stapled me shut. But the pain was still there. Each bump the gurney rolled over filled me with dread. When would this nightmare (because that’s what it was now) end?

What I wanted most was to be clear headed and pain free. I wanted to see one of everything. And for reasons I still, almost 6 months later, can’t understand is why I refused to see my son once I reached recovery. Was he not the reason I put myself through all of this? The months of testing and becoming increasingly more depressed and panicked. The near daily blood draws to check my hcg levels during early pregnancy and the anxiety I endured waiting each day for the phone call confirming that they were in fact increasing. The anxiety I felt about 15 minutes after that phone call knowing I had to go back in two days to do the whole thing again. The joy I felt when I first stared at the ultrasound, pretending I saw evidence that I was actually pregnant. The terror I felt during a non-stress test that required additional monitoring in labor and delivery and almost caused me to be induced the week before my water broke on its own. The hours spent laboring through Pitocin and trying to remain med-free. The painful c-section and unhelpful and disorienting drugs. It was the moment I had waited almost a lifetime for – that amazingly wonderful skin-to-skin moment. And I refused to see my minutes old baby.

He spent the next 5 hours in the nursery, alone, not knowing his mother’s touch.

And that moment, when the pain was finally manageable, when my vision was restored, I realized what I had done – it set the mood for the next several weeks…okay, months.

It didn’t take long for the baby blues to set in. I wasn’t prepared for the intense sadness, joy, terror, and panic I felt almost simultaneously throughout the day, every day. Those nights recovering in the hospital were some of the loneliest nights ever with just me and my son – trying to figure this whole thing out and having no clue what to do (though I’m only marginally less clueless now). It didn’t help that even just taking care of my basic needs were a lot harder than I anticipated. Getting up out of my bed was often a minutes long process; the urgency with which I wanted – needed – to get to my baby’s bassinet was unattainable. And even when I did get there, I would nearly collapse in tears struck by the awe of his perfection and the terror that he was solely my responsibility now.

The mom guilt set in quickly.

I don’t know that I can fully convey the embarrassment I felt when, upon my discharge from the hospital, my nurse had earnestly asked me if I wanted to see the psychiatrist before I left because I hadn’t realized that I had been quietly crying the entire time she reviewed my at-home care.

If I had a time machine, I would go back to that moment and say yes. Maybe if I had said yes, I could have forgiven myself for the feeling of abandoning my son in his first moments outside my body. If I had said yes, maybe I wouldn’t have to make the painful choice of spending any free time with my son outside of my full-time job and taking the time to sit in a doctor’s office to discuss those early moments and why months later they still haunt me. Though if I really had a time machine, I’d go back to the moment I refused my son, and I would hold him and soak in all that newborn goodness. I’d make sure he felt loved and wanted. I’d fill the gaping hole in my heart where that memory should be instead of filling it with regret.

It’s been a hard adjustment – not just to motherhood and all the guilt and regrets that were unknowingly a part of the package, but also in dealing with how my relationships would change with my closest friends who are not yet at this point in their lives.

I can try to chalk it up to a matter of miscommunication, but the fact remains that not long after my pregnancy became public knowledge, I was suddenly given a whole lot of extra space that I hadn’t asked for. This infinitely empty space became even bigger and darker once my son was born.

I don’t know now how to repair any damage that has been done by these changing relationships and my frequent inability to cope with those early regrets, which sadly and unfortunately tends to shape how I interact and socialize with people when I am lucky enough to be included. As time goes on, most days are good days, but days like today, or the last few days (the countless days following a particularly nasty fight with a friend), have been hard and brought me back to those early moments. Just when I think that I have finally sorted through the pain and the regrets and the anxiety, the wound is torn open again. 

So when I am told that I have changed, that I seem different, and sometimes negative more often than not, I tend to agree. I have changed. My body is not my own. My sleep is at the mercy of a tiny little human. I am also trying hard to reconcile those early moments, to find the balance between work life and home life, mother life and friend life. I am human. I went through something. I am trying; I am getting help. And if you have gathered anything at all from these ramblings, I hope that you have gathered that I am not perfect and never claimed to be. 

How could I possibly be anything other than different from who I was before?  

[defunctblogtobedeleted]

4/3/17, 11:45pm - UNC National Champs

I think it might actually be ironic that we were only able to win a championship the year before I went to UNC and the year after I finally left. Not gonna lie, I’m fairly upset to be stuck at work tonight. Should’ve looked in advance to take tonight off so I could be in Chapel Hill. Though I don’t know if it would’ve been worth it to see another loss like last year. Crying with all those people and getting so absurdly drunk in sadness, goddamn. 

This win feels so... I don’t know. Not frustrating. Not quite empty. Maybe just lacking? Definitely lacking the company of some UNC friends to celebrate the win with. Definitely a little lackluster that I can’t be out drinking my brains out with happiness. I almost feel like I got ripped off or something lmao.

But it doesn’t matter. I’m not writing about UNC all night. I’m here to recap my weekend as usual and describe two developments in my life.

I’ll start with the less interesting one - kicked some ass at smash bros this weekend. Not in singles, I got kinda robbed of a chance to play with new people for the most part, but at least got to play the buster bracket (for the losers) and would have won if I didn’t goof off the last two sets to lose in grands from winner’s. Started trying to just collect combo video material and didn’t really get excited to close it out because there was no prize on the line. Doubles though, me and Jwilli fucking tore it up. We lost our first game of the day, talked some shit out, and then ended up placing 9th, beating the team that beat us the first time, And sharkz+gato, and only lost to dash+mike. Pretty fucking sweet. Really happy how we ended up playing, especially because I love that mofukka. Never would’ve imagined that I’d be good enough to play doubles with him back when I started, he’s always been like a god. Got to meet a whole ton of new GA peeps, hung out with them and smoked all weekend. Was pretty excellent. Great weekend. Although I did get a little too high on the drive down and got distracted making this finger sleeve and made us miss our exit by an hour, steering us on a 3 hr detour lmfao. Shouts out to Varnville, SC/GA?

Second one is that I’ve once again been chit chatting with a girl from tinder for about a week or so. She seems really cool, is into the beach+surfing, has a bunch of tats, wants to kick it (though we haven’t been able to yet) just doing nothing which is great. She also loves how nerdy I am, and she’s even shorter than me, and we have similar taste in music, and she texts me almost all the time. Her vocabulary is even a little similar to mine, using weird adjectives like neat all the time (though she seemingly only uses the word “your” instead of also using you’re, so that’s unfortunate). But the kicker is that she has herpes. Has had it for like 2/3 of a year, and is medicated. I told her it doesn’t bother me, because nearly everyone has that shit, and I’ve seen all the data about transmission rates while being medicated (mostly had), and that it’s really just bad luck and it wouldn’t be fair to judge when it could have just as easily been me getting it. And the data IS in my favor. One site says that it’s only a 4% transmission rate (PER YEAR) from F->M in general, cut down to 2% with medication and 1% with condoms and meds, which they compare to a just under 2% chance of pregnancy with condoms. Which kinda puts things in perspective. But then there’s the other side where people argue that herpes might actually be spreadable outside of flareups, and that meds might not be as effective as thought, and that it’s the rest of your life that you’re stuck with it. So hm. Knowingly sleep with a girl with herpes? Do I chance it? Do I chance ever having unprotected sex?  Ngl, probably. This girl is fine as fuck (a little bit of a butterface, but unfortunately only when she’s smiling). Like Perfect body if she’s how she is in her pics. And she seems really sweet. 

Definitely feels weird that I’m so willing to compromise myself like that though. I mean like 1/6 people under 50 (14+) have it, which is bonkers. If I don’t get it from her I’ll undoubtedly get it from some rando eventually. So I guess I don’t mind risking it. Like that’s 2% chance every YEAR. People buy lottery tickets with much worse odds... I mean *I* don’t. But still. Idk lol. we’ll see. I do really wanna get laid though, goddamn... Probably could’ve gotten head from some random UNC chick at He’s Not tonight. Alas.

[balancedbody2016-blog]

Part 2 of the Health Journey

Even someone who never struggled with major health issues, needs to pay attention to their health. I learned this the hard way, because you just never know what might happen that will send your health spiraling out of control. Don’t wait until it is to late!!

In my previous Post, you will find a bit more information about my back story and the beginning of my health journey 

I suffered from an auto-immune issues that had no diagnosis, depression, PTSD and anxiety!!  The list of symptoms was a mile long that I dealt with, the doctors were only able to try to pick some of the worst symptoms and give a medication that might help. Most medications didn’t help much, and/or caused more health issues. Here is a small list of the symptoms that I was dealing with:

Insomnia, weight gain, hives, angiodema, constipation, diarrhea, food sensitivies, hair loss, fatigue, mental fog, severe pms, muscle soreness, lack of libido, low kidney function, heartburn, allergies, migraine headaches, panic attacks, and pain.

Now after researching and spending more time at the doctors then I did with my own family. I came to realize that I needed to start taking my health into my own hands and going back to basics.  Instead of using a variety of drugs that treated symptoms, I needed to provide my body with the tools it needed to heal itself.  Your Body is an amazing structure that can do amazing things when you treat it right. When you exercise, eat right, and provide the tools it needs, your body will balance and heal itself.

I began to realize how important your gut health is to overall health, so that is where I started my health healing journey. As in my previous post, I attempted many avenues to getting my health under control, conventional and unconventional. So why wouldn’t I try something else???... Plexus became that something else.  It was designed to help give the tools your body needs to work optimally. I wasn’t overly hopeful to start, because I didn’t want to be disappointed... again. However I was willing to try because I couldn’t give up. 

I signed up and placed my first order. I started to notice difference’s within 1 week, and within 4 months I knew that I was going down the right path. My body first went into a detoxing stage and I ended up causing my body to flair up even more, but I stayed consistant and I continued on my path as I knew that my body was trying to heal.  The “healing crisis” only lasted 2-3 weeks in my case, however I also started to notice positive difference’s within that same time and they only continued to get better. 

*WARNING*  Possible to much information for some people, I am sharing my whole story not just the “nice” bits. If you are squeamish of bodily functions this may be where you want to stop reading, if not, be warned that this next piece will be graphic. 

First I noticed that, I was able to have a normal bowel movement. I wasn’t constipated for weeks, in pain and bloated, struggling to pass hard lumpy stool. Only then to live in the bathroom while my body cramped and had explosive diarrha in which to get rid of the stool that had slowly accumulated over anywhere between 6-12 days.  Instead of my body going from one extreme to the other, I was able to “go” just about everyday. I wasn’t bloated all the time, and even when I ate something that my stomach didn’t agree with, the severity of the bloating and pain was much less then what it used to be.

The next positive change I noticed, was that i wasn’t quite as tired as I usually was. I used to have to come home from work and have a nap before I could even think about making supper. Yet I also had insomnia that required me to take a sleeping medication to get rest.  I didn’t have to have a nap everyday, I was tired but not exhausted. This is also when I got brave and stopped taking a zoplicone every night.  Even those nights that I didn’t take my medication, I was getting a better sleep then I used to..... HURRAY!!  I was able to wean myself off of my Sleeping meds within 1 month. This was an amazing feeling!!!

Oh my!!! the DREADED Aunt Flow, showed up again. But wait, why am I not doubled over in pain and cramping? Why am not completely covered in hives and ready to scratch the skin off my body?  Ok, so I had to take some Midol, but not the whole bottle, I didn’t have to take 2 days off work because I couldn’t get out of bed. I have only been on Plexus for 2 months, and already my period is not causing me the agony it used to.  My hives, (which are directly related to my cycle, as it is believed that I have Autoimmune Progesterone Dermatitis) even though I am on a medication that helps to ease the severity, are not causing me the grief they usually do either.  

Did my kid really just completely lose it on me? Did I really stay calm and not yell at her or go running to my room after to cry and settle down from the anxiety as I usually do. Yup you bet!!  I haven’t had nearly as many panic attacks lately, and I feel happier and not depressed every day. Wow!! when did this happen, It has now been 4 months that I have been on Plexus, Today is the day that I realized that I made the right choice!!  I have not had any huge benefits up until this point but they were all little things that help my life a little better. To realise that my mood and depression and anxiety, was improving and all I was doing taking some supplements that help my gut, was a very big day for me. I had REAL hope that I was not destined to be miserable my whole life. This is when I started to “really” believe in these products and it renewed my drive to continue to see how far my health would really improve. At this point I was still only taking 1/2  dosage’s so as not to send my body into wild unbearable detox, today I started taking full dosage. 

My urine really smells funny!!!  OMG it smells the same as when I was on the aweful Cyclosporine. For those of you that don’t know, this drug has horrible side effects that are very dangerous to your kidneys. I had to stop using it because it only sort of worked in controlling my hives, but it also started causing to much damage to my kidneys for me to continue. It is so toxic that I had to be extra careful when using the bathroom that in no way could anyone else come into contact with my urine. At this point I hadn’t been taking this drug in 2 yrs, yet the smell has come back?  I started to worry, but then found out that it was my body starting to detox my kidneys. I had been holding that toxic substance in my body for almost 2 YEARS!!!  WOW!  Testing now has shown that my kidney function is starting to improve now that my kidneys are detoxing ( this smell and detox stage,  has now happened to me 4 times since starting Plexus, and each time my kidneys are improving)

Wow, I have to get a new pair of pants or at least a belt to help hold them up. I am starting to lose the weight that many of the drugs and health issues have caused me to gain. Note * Since I started Plexus I am now back down to my ideal BMI.

My skin has now cleared up from the adult acne that I had, and I don’t need to continue using Birth control pills. ( I had my tubes tied 13 yrs ago, so it seems funny to be on birth control too).  The birth control was used to help control my hormones from causing my hives and the angiodema, as well as the horrible cystic acne.  

I just ate ICE CREAM, without taking a Lactaid!! no bloating, no upset stomach!

It is now seems strange!!. To go from absolutely no libido 6 months ago, to exceeding my husbands is amazing. It is now pretty obvious to me that, my hormones are finally balancing out, the stress and depression is lessening, and I am better able to deal with my anxiety, this all helps to bring back the passion that I can share with my husband finally. 

Big News!!!  My notoriously Low Blood Pressure since childhood ( 102/60, was normal for me) has slowly risen over the course of 4 months and then stabalized out at 120/80!  It is winter here in Alberta, and even with my Reynauds syndrome, I was able to work outside in -30 weather most of the day without freezing.  7 hours outside in the winter, is absolutely unheard of for me. I was lucky if I was able to handle 20 mins, dressed up the Abominal Snowman. My big winter boots are rated for -100 degrees celcius, and I have not worn them once yet this year, I have been wearing my light Thinsulate workboots. 

This month, I will be meeting with my dermatologist. The plan is to stop the last medication that I am on for my hives. We are both confident that my body has rebalanced itself out and that my autoimmune issue will be under control as long as I continue to put my gut health first.  This is a western medical doctor, that sees the benefits of helping to support your body naturally to do what it is designed to do. He has helped to find medications that worked, but has also encouraged me to find a better way to support my body.  My C-reactin protein levels have consistantly fallen since starting Plexus, I am crossing my fingers that this is the last big hurdle and that I will succeed. 

The extensive list of my symptoms and health issues, not including those caused by medications, before starting Plexus in no real order 

-insomnia

-depression

-ibs symtoms

-irregular and painful periods

-multi food intolerances

-anxiety

-extreme hives

-angiodema (swollen painful joints)

-pain 

-low blood pressure

-intense migraine headaches

-PMS :(

I don’t have enough time to list all the health issues that the medications caused, but it you do have questions don’t hesitate to contact me I will gladly share my story. And there is more to come.

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