#everyone told me the recovery will be easier this time because the procedure is easier | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

winterscaptain · 4 years ago

Text

faith.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

a/n: we start to heal, kids! if there’s interest, i’ll write up the outtakes (wink wink) from this and post it sometime soon. your feedback keeps me going - please tell me what you think! also, if you haven’t already check out the inspo blog for ajf! (here’s the nsfw one, too - but it's definitely 18+ only!)

reality check (part one) | unimaginable (part two)

words: 3.5k warnings: implied sex, language, miscarriage/pregnancy mention

summary: healing is bittersweet.

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed!

“Everything looks fine down here. Since it’s been about four days, your preliminary recovery is finished. The key now is to let your body rest and reset.” Brienne removes her gloves and tosses them in the trash. “You can try again in six weeks, if you want, but no penetrative sex for two full weeks.” She washes her hands and points at you, then Aaron, with wet hands. “I mean it.”

You share a look with Aaron while Brienne turns around for paper towels. His lips quirk into a wry, almost sheepish, smile.

Turning back to her, you ask, “Is there anything I should look out for or do differently or anything?”

Please tell me there’s something I can control.

She shakes her head. “You’re doing everything perfectly. Keep an eye out for any heavy bleeding or anything that doesn't feel quite right in the next couple of weeks.” A warm hand lands on your shoulder and another reaches across you for Aaron, who stands and meets her in the middle, capturing her fingers in his palm. “I have faith in you both. I know this one was a little unexpected on all fronts, but if you want to do this for real, I will make sure I’m doing everything in my power to give you all the support and resources I can.”

Aaron’s brown eyes are soft and grateful under his knit brow. “Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate it.”

She snorts and squeezes his hand before letting him go. “Oh, Aaron. I have a feeling you and I will know each other for a long time - Brienne is just fine.”

+++

Aaron slides into bed beside you and wraps you up in his arms. “Hey.”

“Hi.” You lace your fingers between his where his hand rests across your abdomen. “How’re you doin’?”

“I should ask you the same thing.”

You turn in his arms, and he gathers you to his chest while you throw one leg over his hip and wiggle the other between his thighs. You just want to be as close as possible to soothe the ache in your chest - it’s working. “I’m okay. My bits have stopped screaming at me, so that’s an improvement.” For now, you ignore the fact that he’s avoided your question. Sometimes it's easier to let Aaron think he’s won - for a while, at least.

“Indeed, it is,” he says through a laugh. “I more so meant the other thing.”

“What, like my emotional state?”

He shrugs around you. “Yeah, I guess.”

“I feel like there should be...something to look forward to. There’s still a part of me that’s really excited, but there’s nothing to be excited about.” You shake your head, burrowing further into his chest. “It’s hard to explain.”

His hand rubs up and down your spine, firm and slow. “Makes perfect sense. I think I’m right there with you.”

It’s quiet for a moment.

“I’m so sorry, Aaron.”

You can feel him shake his head and he scoots impossibly closer to you. There can’t be a single inch of skin he isn't touching, or at least that’s what it feels like. “There’s nothing you need to apologize for. Nothing to be sorry for. Sometimes, things just happen.”

Your eyes close, exhausted, and you push back the thoughts that have been swirling around in your head for the last three days.

Yeah, sometimes things just happen. Getting stabbed nine times in your home by a career serial killer? Just happens. Your wife getting murdered by that same serial killer, perhaps? Yeah, that just happens. Or maybe your best friend ‘dying’ and then coming back to life? Sure.

Maybe a couple massive losses in a couple horrible years just aren’t enough.

What’s next?

I’ll take ‘Losing a Kid for 1600, Alex.’

“Hey.” He taps the middle of your back with his hand to get your attention. “I can hear you thinking.”

You grumble, “Sorry,” and turn over, your back pressed firmly to his chest.

“We’re okay, sweetheart. We’re fine. Jack is healthy, you’re healthy, I’m healthy. We’re getting married.” You snort, and he laughs. “Alright. We’re getting married...eventually.” That gets a giggle out of you, and he continues. “We’re looking for a house we can actually afford because of our fulfilling and important jobs. We have one fantastic son already.” He kisses your shoulder. “We’re in good shape.”

Well, when he puts it that way…

He pulls you close, nuzzling into your neck and running fingers up your ticklish sides. You squirm and a little peal of laughter leaves you. “I’ve got you on all of those, don’t I?”

You roll your eyes, and you know he saw it in the mirrored closet doors on the wall across from you. “If you think I’m going to argue with the youngest AUSA in District history, you’re nuts.”

A satisfied hum leaves him, and he slips his hand under your shirt, tracing over your skin. “That’s probably a good idea.” Kisses find their way across your shoulders as his hands hike your shirt farther up your body.

“Aaron,” you whine. “Brienne said no sex.”

You watch him deliberate in the mirror, making play at deep thought. “...No. She said no penetrative sex, if my memory serves.” His hands wander down to the edge of your underwear and you squirm against him despite yourself. He drops his lips to the sensitive skin behind your ear, making you shiver when he whispers, “And my memory always serves.”

“Damn you.”

He grins and ducks under the covers, throwing your leg over his shoulder as he settles between your thighs.

+++

The following Monday is your first day back at work, and it’s more than a little difficult to be normal. Aaron had only taken the day after to make sure he was available to drive you to and from Brienne’s office for your procedure, but you’d taken the rest of the week. You’re not sure what Aaron told them - maybe a flu or a stomach bug or maybe you “just needed some personal time” - but you imagined everyone would ask you about it anyways.

Aaron presses a kiss to your cheek before the elevator opens. You make sure you’re watching when he falls into Hotch Mode as the doors part before you. It’s difficult to hold back your fond smile, but you manage.

You set your things down at your desk, noting the small purple orchid and note sitting by your desktop. JJ turns in her chair to face you. “Hey! How was your visit with Dean?”

Oh. That works. Good one, Aaron.

Dean had moved to New York to start with a new brokerage house at the beginning of last summer, and you’d been meaning to get up there to see him. It’s a highly plausible lie. It also helps that Aaron could sell water to a fish.

Well, he is a lawyer.

“It was great. Nice to take some time, you know?” You smile at her and you’re sure it doesn’t look quite right when her eyes narrow just a touch. Settling at your desk, you pick up the note addressed to you and open it.

A flower for my flower :) I know. I’m gross. Sue me.

(Or don’t...I’ll use my J.D. if you do.)

I love you. - AH

p.s. Don’t worry - I’ll water it when you're away.

“Conference room in five minutes - Garcia’s got something for us.” Emily strides past you all on the bridge and you grab your tablet.

Derek offers you a hand and you take it, tucking yourself under his arm as you walk. “What’s the orchid for?”

You shrug, covering how touched you really are by the gesture. “I dunno. I guess we just have a very thoughtful section chief.”

+++

Inspired by Aaron’s cover story, you give Dean a call when you make it back to the hotel that night after an exhausting day scouting crime scenes that have every indication of a serial killer running rampant through the tiny Maine township.

“Hey babes! How are ya?” His chirp comes singing through the phone, and you find yourself smiling.

“I’m alright.”

You can almost hear his eyebrows raise. “Nope. Bullshit. What’s wrong with you?”

“Well, if anyone asks, I just got home from visiting with you for the week.” You start to unpack your go bag, hanging up a couple of your nicer work sets and setting up the bathroom the way you like it.

“What’s Aaron lying about this time?”

You laugh, but it tapers off quickly. “Well, as it happens, we had a really shit week last week and I had to take some time off.”

He’s far more solemn when he speaks again, “That sounds like a little more than a ‘I got a flat tire on my way to work and my coffee was cold’ kind of shit week if you actually took time off.” He pauses. “Oh please don’t tell me you broke off the engagement.”

“Not at all, not at all. Aaron and I are fine, but…” Going back and forth for a moment, you ultimately decide to tell him. Maybe it will get easier if you say it out loud. “I, um. I miscarried last week.” You’re proud of yourself for spitting it out with only a little stumbling, and Dean’s immediate concern brings tears to your eyes.

“Oh God, honey. I’m so sorry. Do you want to talk about it at all?”

“I mean -” you take a deep breath. “No? I don’t know. I feel really shitty about it and we talked to Aaron’s mom and I know it isn’t my fault, but -” You huff, getting a little frustrated. “It was a girl, Dean. Aaron was so excited.”

Something creaks in the background, and you know he’s just settled into the ancient armchair in the corner of his studio. “Don’t forget babe, you were excited, too. This isn’t just disappointing for Aaron, as much as you’d like to make everything about him.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. He’s right. “I know, but -”

“No! No buts. This is a loss for both of you, and it's huge. Like, I dunno why people don’t talk about it more. Your kid is your kid is your kid if you wanted them and they didn’t make it. It doesn’t matter if you met her or not - you knew her and she was yours.”

So, maybe the tears weren’t finished. Dean stops talking for a minute, and you know he can hear you sniffling.

“Are you going to try again?”

And isn’t that the question of the hour?

“Well, we didn’t really try for this one, but I think we’ve caught the bug. I was planning on talking to Aaron about it a little more when I get home -”

“What’s the case?”

“Maine, probably a serial killer,” you answer promptly, getting right back on track. You’re used to Dean’s quick interruptions. Context is important to him and you’re always happy to provide it. “I don’t think we’re going to try, per se, but I don’t think we’ll be too concerned about being careful either. That way it’s a pleasant surprise instead of something stressful or disappointing, you know?”

“Ah,” he says. “A ‘fuck it and forget it’ approach. I dig it. And we all know Aaron can ‘fuck it’ with the best of them - you’ll have to tell me how the ‘forgetting it’ part goes.”

You laugh despite yourself, wiping at your cheeks. “How do you always manage to make me laugh?”

His laugh sounds from the other side of the phone, and it warms you from your fingers to your toes. You can almost forget its nearly five below zero outside. “What can I say? Laughter is the virtue of the gays.”

Your phone beeps at you, and it’s Aaron. “Hey Beanie, I gotta let you go. Aaron’s beeping in on me.”

“Go get your tub’a humbus, babe. I’ll talk to you later.”

You switch calls, and raise the phone back to your ear. “Hey, love. What’s goin’ on?”

“I just missed you.” You can hear the sink in the background and you check the clock.

Ah yes, dishes before bed because someone can’t sleep if there are dishes in the sink.

“Hi!” Jack shouts from across the kitchen, and it makes you smile. “I miss you!”

“I miss you too, my loves! Though, Aaron, I must say -” you stop yourself. “Am I on speaker?”

There’s a shuffle, and his voice sounds a lot closer when he replies. “Not anymore.” You know he’s smiling.

You laugh. “I was going to say, it’s a lot easier to abide by our no-contact order when I’m five states away.”

“Don’t remind me.” You can’t see him, but he sounds at least a little pained. “We’ll be almost done with that by the time you get home, which is nice.”

“Very nice, indeed.” Settling into bed, you pull the covers up to your chin. “I wish you were here with me.”

You can hear him walk through the house, getting some distance from Jack. “Yeah?”

“Mhmm. As nice as your new digs are, Chief Hotchner, sleeping without you when I’m on cases is really rough.” A light laugh leaves you. “I still haven’t gotten used to it.”

He hums. “Well, I’ll make it worth your while when you get home, how’s that?”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you say with a smile. “Goodnight. I love you.”

“Get some rest. I love you more.”

+++

Your first hunch was right - serial killer with a preference for blonde women in their forties. Luckily, those factors alone made for a nice, neat, narrow profile, and you were down to a small pool of suspects within days.

It’s safe to say your heart isn’t in it. You’re almost relieved when JJ calls you out on the way to the medical examiner’s office.

“What’s going on with you and Aaron?” Her bright blue eyes stay on the road as she speaks, but you know she’s completely tuned into you. “You guys seem...off.”

“We’re fine - the two of us, I mean.” You’re not sure how much to want to tell her. She isn’t Dean. You have to work with her every day, and as much as she’s your friend, it’s hard to talk about this when she already has a son of her own and another on the way. “There’s just, um, some stuff going on at home.”

She reaches across the console and takes your hand. “Whatever it is,” and she sounds like she knows. “You’re not alone.”

You look over at her and squeeze her hand. There’s something mournful and heartbreaking about the set of her mouth, and something cold and sympathetic washes over you. “Really?”

She nods. “Ours was a girl.” Her confession is quiet and her eyes never once flicker from the road.

Your voice is just as quiet, almost a secret. “Ours, too.”

+++

Aaron’s waiting for you in the bullpen when you land in the afternoon two days later. Without shame, you sail through the glass doors and into his arms. It’s a treat - you never feel like you’re truly home until he’s holding you, and you usually have to wait until you get home.

Derek teases you both on his way back to his desk, and you flip him off. Everyone’s in high spirits and you’re surprised their good moods have rubbed off on you, as well.

Emily releases you all early with the promise you’ll have your after action reports into her by tomorrow afternoon. On the way home, you tell Aaron about your conversation with JJ, and he’s so moved by it, you’re almost brought to tears again.

+++

The next morning, Aaron leaves early for a meeting at headquarters in DC. He kisses you goodbye, and in your half-asleep state you grab his tie and make an attempt to keep him right where he is.

It doesn’t work, but you’re rewarded with a couple extra seconds of adoration, even with your morning breath. He chuckles against your mouth.

“I gotta go, baby.”

You whine incoherently at him, but he dodges your reaching hands and whispers close to your ear as he brings the covers up over your shoulder. “You have another hour before you need to be up. Sleep. I love you.” Another kiss presses into your temple, and you hear the bedroom door close softly behind him.

When another hour lapses (during which you dozed, quite thankful he told you to get some more sleep), you rise and get ready to head into the office. Jack’s up and getting dressed in his room while you get started in the kitchen.

But, of course, there’s no need. Aaron has a breakfast spread ready and covered on the counter, with coffee just finished in the percolator.

A god among men…

You pull your favorites from the pile, and set aside a few things for Jack. This cut your prep time in half at least, so you’ll have a little more time to eat and get settled before you have to be out the door.

Assembling breakfast is easy, and you and Jack share space in relative silence. He looks up at you over his eggs and grins. Oh, how you love that boy.

+++

When you get into the office, JJ’s reading a note, a little white envelope tucked behind it. You’re the first two in the office - a shocker, considering the two children between you, both under the age of ten.

“What have you got there?”

She looks up and you can tell her eyes are a little misty. “Just a really sweet note someone left on my desk.” Waving it in the air, she asks, “Want to read it?”

You smile, setting your things down. “Only if you want me to.”

She hands it over, and you take it, immediately recognizing Aaron’s handwriting.

JJ-

I wish we didn’t know the same loss, but I’m selfishly glad it’s you. Thank you for taking care of us so well.

As always, anything for you. Just say the word.

“You know,” JJ says as you hand the note back to her. “He wasn’t like this before you.”

You snort. “Don’t I know it.”

“No, I’m serious. Even before you guys got together, you made him better. This -” she holds the note up and flicks it, “never would have happened eight years ago.”

+++

By the time the next case is solved and everyone comes home, Brienne’s orders have expired. Jack is long asleep and you find Aaron in his office. His head is propped up on his hand, elbow on his desk, as he reads over some esoteric legal decision he’s decided to research as a hobby.

Like he’s not busy enough.

In fairness, he did defend his newest activity over dinner a few weeks ago.

“What else am I supposed to do after Jack’s asleep and you’re out on a case? Watch TV? Go to bed early? No, I’m going to review legal decisions and take notes so I don’t bore you to death when you get home.”

“Aaron, you could never bore me to death.”

“I wouldn’t take that bet.”

He looks over his reading glasses, and his eyes light up. “Welcome home.”

You offer him a warm smile as you cross his office and round his desk. “Hi.”

Aaron drops his pen and pulls you close by your hips, and you lean on the side of his chair. “How was the case?”

“I would hate to spoil Emily’s report that will inevitably be about three hours late getting to your desk on Tuesday.”

He raises his eyebrows. “I see.” His hand drops down to the outside of your thigh, and you swing a leg over his chair to straddle him, getting situated on his lap. “You know, I still have work to do.”

“What? Is this Supreme Court decision more interesting than me?”

He shrugs, leaning forward again and picking up his file. His chin hooks over your shoulder, and you settle against his chest as he continues to read. With a sigh, he says, “You’re wearing an awful lot of clothes for someone who wants something specific.”

You huff. “Oh, c’mon. It’s not like I’m getting any in here.”

“You don’t know that.” His voice is even, almost distracted, but when you shift over him you can tell he’s affected. “Something might surprise you.”

“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”

He takes another breath and, just like he’s done so many times before, says, “Sweetheart, I’m not suggesting anything.”

+++

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acciotonystank · 5 years ago

Text

Still I See you, Celestial

Read on AO3

Tony was in the lab when he got the alert. Music was blasting through the room as he hunched over a circuit board when his phone screen flashed with the notification that the integrity of Peter’s suit had been compromised, and that the graphical processing unit of its AI had been damaged, rendering her useless.

“FRI? Baby monitor,” he frowned, putting down his tools and turning to his computer.

The screen lit up with a live feed from Peter’s suit, and Tony swore under his breath when he saw a haze of fire. The boy was staggering through the burning building, coughing and panting with arm around a young woman who was struggling to stay upright. Within seconds, Tony was in one of his suits, the feed now coming through in front of his eyes as he took off from the tower, speeding through the air towards the blinking red dot on the map.

Tony watched as Peter managed to get the woman to a window and not-so-gracefully swung them down to the ground where a crowd of people where watching anxiously. He let out a breath of relief once the boy was out of the building, only to swear again when Peter then looked back up at the building and scale the wall, scrambling towards an open window.

“FRI, patch me through,” he ordered.

“Mister Stark?” Peter’s raspy voice spoke up.

“Kid, you gotta get out of there,” he said, approaching the building.

“I gotta make sure everyone’s out,” he coughed, racing through the building, dodging falling debris.

“FRIDAY, are there any people left in the building?” Tony asked, eyes darting over the information the AI presented.

“No, Boss.��

“Everyone’s out, Spidey, you can come out now.”

“Okay, Mister-“ Peter cut himself off abruptly. “Wait, I hear something.”

“The main structural support system of building has been compromised and will likely collapse at any minute,” FRIDAY supplied.

“Fuck, kiddo, you gotta get out, it’s about to collapse.”

“No, Mr Stark, there’s someone else here, I can hear it-“

“FRIDAY’s scanned the building, it’s clear,” he interrupted harshly. “Now get the fuck out of that building right now.”

“No, Mr Stark, I can hear something!” Peter insisted frantically.

“Kid,” Tony said sharply, preparing to go in there and drag his stubborn ass out of that building. “I’m not fucking around. It’s clear and about to collapse - you need to get out.”

“Just a minute, I gotta-“

Peter voice was cut off by a series of creaking, cracking and clashing as the building crumbled, and with it, Tony’s face. The man let out a strangled cry and dove into the ablaze rubble, not paying any mind to the sweltering heat the fire produced.

He almost vomited when he reached the boy. He was lying on the floor, his head turned away from him… and a metal rod pierced through his abdomen, blood pooling around him. The cherry on top was the small bundle of fur tucked under his protective arm, looking around anxiously and meowing loudly. All this for a fucking cat.

“FRI?”

“The object has not pierced any vital organs, however, Mister Parker is losing blood rapidly,” the AI reported.

Tony knew he couldn’t just pull the rod out if he didn’t want Peter to bleed out in seconds, but he had to move him and fast. He crouched down, absentmindedly taking note of Peter’s ragged breaths, and used a laser to cut the rod a few inches away from his skin, throwing the excess aside. A small part of him was grateful he was unconscious, because he was sure that the pain he would be experiencing would be excruciating.

Tony glanced at the terrified cat and let a small huff before grabbing it by the scruff of its neck and placing it on his shoulder, where it clung desperately, sliding around on the metal. He then gently scooped Peter’s limp body up and brought them to the crowd, where he unceremoniously shoved the cat in some kid’s arms and took off towards the tower, already barking orders at FRIDAY to alert Helen Cho and prepare a team for surgery.

He couldn’t help but glance over Peter’s body as they flew, taking in the burns and bloody tears in the suit. The eyes that were usually white were grey with ash and dirt, and Tony struggled with Peter in his arms for a moment while he pulled the mask up over his mouth and nose so he could breathe easier.

When he landed on the balcony of the tower, he stepped out of the suit and ran into the medbay, where Helen was pulling on a pair of gloves. Before he could say anything, the team of doctors had swarmed them, gently transferring Peter’s body to an operating table and rushing him into theatre to perform surgery. Tony followed right behind them, unable to take his eyes of the boy, who was getting paler by the second.

He was stopped abruptly by Helen’s hand on his chest, her expression determined.

“You can’t go in there, Stark. You have to let us help him now. You can watch if you really insist,” she offered, gesturing to the window into the operating theatre, “but… I really would advise against it.”

Tony wanted to argue, to demand that he hold his kid’s hand through the surgery, to tell her to get fucked because he wasn’t going to fail Peter again. But he knew, logically, that acting out would only cause problems, and frankly, he didn’t have the energy or capacity to fight one of the only people who could help Peter now. So he simply shot a helpless look over her shoulder at the team of doctors peeling the suit off of him and pulling out various medical instruments.

“Is… is he going to be okay?” he asked desperately.

Helen looked at him sympathetically. “You know I can’t promise that.”

Tony couldn’t think straight, only stare blankly at Peter as the doctor turned into the room, the door sliding shut behind her as she started directing everyone about. He stumbled slightly over to the window and leant against it to steady himself.

“Tony?” Pepper breathed, running up to him and pulling him into a tight hug. “How is he?”

The man just shook his head, not trusting himself to use his voice. She pulled away and placed a hand on his cheek, brushing her thumb against his skin comfortingly. Her hand found his and squeezed it tightly as they turned to watch the scene play out in front of them.

Tony watched as they treated and covered his burns and cuts. Watched as they tried to remove the metal, only to end up having to tediously cut it from the muscle that had started to heal around it. Watched as the blood pooled, despite the attempts to put pressure on the wound and prevent the flow.

Then Peter’s heart stopped and, for a moment, Tony thought his had too.

He couldn’t do anything but stare in pure horror at the straight line on the heart monitor, alarms blaring in his ears. His knees gave out underneath him and he placed his hands over his mouth, eyes burning with tears, chest heaving with sobs that he wouldn’t let escape him. He could faintly feel Pepper’s arms around him, her fingers weaving into his hair, could vaguely hear her voice… but he couldn’t concentrate on any of that. Only the lifeless child in front of his eyes.

Peter was dead. His kid was dead. And all he could do was watch his entire body jolt with each dose of electric current they forced through his chest, desperately trying to get his stupidly oversized heart started again. When was the last time he’d told Peter loved him? He sure as fuck didn’t say it as often as he should have. Had Peter died not knowing how much he really meant to Tony? Of course he had, because Tony never did tell him. Sure, he’d said ‘I love you’, but that hardly encompassed everything he felt for the boy who had stubbornly wiggled his way into Tony’s heart.

Peter was the most selfless person Tony had ever met. He was so kind, generous and good and had so much potential. But now he was gone, and Tony wouldn’t get to see him off on his first date, or graduate high school, or go to college, or get married-

Tony froze when a steady beeping met his ears. It was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. He staggered to his feet, trembling hands pressed against the glass, staring at the pulsing heart monitor in overwhelming relief. Realising that his world had started moving again, Tony collapsed into a chair with Pepper by his side, and watched them complete the procedure. At some point, May arrived, having left work early when Pepper had informed her of what had happened. Tony expected her to yell at him, to hit him, to refuse to look at him. But instead, she had hugged him, and sat down beside him without a word, staring anxiously at her nephew.

Helen was the first to come out, and informed them that Peter was now stable and would make a full recovery, and proceeded to list the full list of injuries and told them she’d be around if they needed anything.

May was the first to go in once Peter had been transferred to a recovery room, and Tony insisted she have some time alone with him. Although it came across as him being polite to May, in truth, he was just hesitant to go in, despite how desperate he had been to be with Peter before. Maybe it was because he’d realised how terrifyingly mortal Peter was, or because a part of him still didn’t believe that this was real - that this was a figment of his imagination he’d come up with to cope with the fact that he really was dead. Or maybe it was to do with the crippling guilt because why did he waste time telling Peter to get out when he could have just dragged him out? When had Peter ever been one to listen in situations like that? If only Tony had gotten there faster, if he had built the suit better, if he had-

“Stop it,” Pepper said softly, pulling him from his thoughts. She was gazing at him intently, waiting for him to actually step into the room. “I can practically see you stewing in self-loathing, but none of this is your fault. And don’t even try to argue with me.”

“I just… I always feel like I could be doing better, I feel like I could have done better,” he replied pathetically.

“You did everything in your power to keep Peter safe-“

“But it wasn’t enough, was it?”

“Tony,” she sighed exasperatedly, “if you weren’t there, he would have died in that fire. You got him out in time so he could be saved.”

Pepper drew him into one last soft, sweet kiss, and gently guided him into the room.

Peter was connected to an array of machines, and had an endotracheal tube coming out of his mouth. His dirty face was still pale, but had regained colour since Tony brought him in, and was covered in bandages, yet he still looked incredibly peaceful. May was curled up in the chair beside his bed, clutching his hand in her own. The woman gave him a small smile and gestured to the chair on his other side. Tony rested a hand over Peter’s free hand, before letting out a sigh and taking a seat. Now that he was here, he didn’t want to leave in case something happened, he needed to make sure he was safe and alive. He took comfort in the steady beeping of his heart monitor, unable to keep the echoes of the flatline alarm out of his mind.

Tony reached forward to take Peter’s wrist and feel his pulse underneath his fingertips. Just to make sure. And when he made eye contact with May, he pretended not to notice the knowing look in her eye. At some point, May had reluctantly gone to bed as she had to get up early for a double shift the next day and needed to make sure she was well-rested, despite being tempted to call in sick.

Throughout the night, Tony stayed there, persistently refusing Pepper’s pleas to eat and drink and sleep. Even when she brought down a tray of food and a glass of water, along with a pillow, he refused to move. Instead, he tapped away at his StarkPad, jotting down ideas to better the suit in terms of puncture resistance, flame retardation, smoke filtration… maybe an in-suit defibrillator? At about 3am, Tony decided that Peter’s face really needed to be cleaned, because it was still covered ash and dirt and that wouldn’t do. So he got a cloth and some lukewarm water and gently started wiping the grime off Peter’s face, soothed by the youth it restored.

The man then returned to his position of one hand on Peter’s pulse and the other typing one-handedly on the screen. By now, the rhythm and tempo of his heartbeat was ingrained in his mind, and that, along with the steady beeping and sound of Peter’s assisted breaths eventually lulled him to sleep.

Tony awoke late the next morning to Helen checking over Peter and swapping out the drip. He noticed the tube was gone, replaced by a cannula, and wondered when that had happened.

“He’ll most likely wake up in the next few hours,” she spoke up, realising he was awake. “He’ll be in and out for a while, though. I’m amazed at his healing, even for an enhanced. I’ve never seen anything like it. He’s a very lucky young man.”

At first, he thought she meant Peter was lucky to have his powers, but then the real implication of her words sunk in and he swallowed. If it weren’t for his healing, he may have been dead by the time Tony got to him, unable to be saved. He would have died for sure.

He did die, some voice in the back of his mind supplied.

About an hour later, Peter stirred and was conscious for approximately fifty hazy-as-fuck seconds before passing out again. He woke up a couple more times with slightly better results, however it wasn’t until a bit after 2pm that he fully regained consciousness. His eyes blearily blinked open and trailed around the room, landing on Tony, who offered him a glass of water without saying anything. Peter gratefully took a few sips and looked at Tony anxiously.

“Is everyone okay?” he croaked.

It seemed that during all that time, Tony had plenty of time to churn his anxiety and fear into anger and frustration. He wanted to explode, wanted to demand why Peter didn’t follow his order because despite all the guilt he carried, it was still easier to lash out.

“You mean everyone aside from you?” he asked bitterly. “Yeah. Even that fucking cat.”

Peter’s lips pressed together and Tony knew he hadn’t masked his frustration nearly as well as he’d hoped. He also knew that he’d struggle to not snap at Peter, and decided that it’d be better for both of them if he just got himself out of there.

“I’ve got to go take care of some SI stuff,” he said abruptly, getting to his feet. “I’m… I’m glad you’re okay, kid,” he added at the slightly hurt expression on Peter’s face.

He glanced at him one last time before walking out of the room and taking the elevator back up to his floor. Pepper wouldn’t be back from her meeting for another couple of hours, so Tony busied himself with making coffee, responding to emails and working more on his designs for a new suit for Peter.

Maybe rewatching the footage from the incident over and over wasn’t the best idea, but Tony needed to analyse everything he could to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. So over and over again, he watched Peter stumble through the haze of fire, watched him fall through the floor, watched the broken curtain rod pierce through his body.

He started preparing designs for a fabric that was completely fire proof and was much more resistant to tearing. It would be hard to balance that with making sure it was still comfortable and easy to move in but he would make sure it worked. He improved the protection around Karen’s GPU so Peter wouldn’t be left without her again. He made plans for adding a filter in the mask so that Peter wouldn’t have to suffer the consequences of smoke inhalation again - he hated the sight of the ugly tube coming out Peter’s mouth and the implication that he couldn’t breathe on his own that came with it.

“Hey,” Pepper smiled at Tony as she walked in, pausing to take her heels off. “FRIDAY said Peter’s awake, how is he?”

“Uh, okay,” he replied distractedly, eyes still trained on the screen when she came up and placed a kiss on his head.

She pulled away and stared at him for a moment, eyes narrowed slightly as they went between the screen and Tony’s tired face. “How long have you been up here?”

“Um, about two hours.”

“And how long has Peter been awake?”

Tony hesitated in shame. “About two hours.”

“You’re hiding from him,” Pepper responded flatly, folding her arms.

“I’m not hiding,” he scowled. “He disobeyed a direct order and almost - no wait, sorry - did die.”

“I know you’re angry, Tony, but you need to go down there and talk to that poor boy, because he can’t be alone right now. I don’t care if you’re mad at him, you need to swallow your pride and make sure he’s okay.”

“He died, Pep, because I wasn’t good enough. He’s better off without me.”

“Okay, so let me run this situation past you - Peter is in that burning building, but you’re not there so he bleeds out or- or burns to death. Is that what you mean by better off?”

“He wouldn’t have been in there if I never got involved.”

“That’s bullshit,” she said calmly. “That whole fiasco on moving day with that vulture guy showed that no matter if you never met him, he would still have been in that building. But he wouldn’t have the suit and probably would have died before he could get even half those people out. When will you get it through your head that he needs you? I know that you’d move heaven and earth for Peter-“

“But he doesn’t know that,” Tony interrupted quietly. “He- he could have died and he wouldn’t have known how much I-“ he cut himself off and Pepper took a deep, steadying breath.

“So you hide up here? Is this you showing how much you care about him? By hiding when he needs you most? You’re right, Peter could have died on that table without knowing what he means to you, but he came back and now you have the chance to tell him and you’re abandoning him! God, Tony you’re a dumbass sometimes. Get your ass down there and talk to him.”

Tony buried his face in his hands. “Fuck, you’re right. What am I doing?”

Pepper pursed her lips and ran her fingers through his hair. “It’s going to be fine, honey.”

He nodded and pulled her into a tight hug, then pulled away and kissed her softly. “Thank you.”

When Tony arrived outside of Peter’s room, he hesitated for a moment before walking in. Peter was staring at the television, but looked over at him with an unreadable expression when he entered.

“Hey, Mr Stark,” he greeted softly, voice still hoarse.

“Are you sure you’re supposed to be sitting up already?”

Peter frowned slightly, glancing down at himself or a moment before meeting Tony’s eyes again. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

Tony couldn’t help the childish ‘hmph’ that escaped him at the word ‘fine’, because things were not ‘fine’ by any standard.

Peter’s gaze dropped and his hands fidgeted. “I’m sorry, Mr Stark, I know I should have gotten out when you told me, but I heard something and I thought there was someone else inside.”

Tony was well aware that people shouldn’t bottle up their emotions, because that never ends well. But it was hard to avoid it when he didn’t even realise he was doing it. He never did until it was too late, and now was one of those times.

"That ‘something’ was just a fucking cat, Peter. And I told you to get out and you didn’t listen to me!”

Peter scowled. “Because I thought there was another person trapped in the burning building, forgive me.”

“Don’t take that tone with me, I told you it was clear!”

“Well, it wasn’t,” he replied petulantly.

“Four-legged creatures don’t count.”

“Well, that’s rude,” he muttered.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Tony burst. "I know you have the urge to protect every living thing on the planet, but you can’t risk your life for a fucking pet, Peter.”

“I didn’t know it was a cat, okay?” Peter defended, his lip wobbling. Tony’s face softened slightly, beginning to think he was being too harsh. “I don’t regret it, though,” he added stubbornly. And Tony exploded.

“You would have died if you weren’t you, do you not realise that?” he snapped.

“Yeah, well, right now I’m beginning to wish I wasn’t,” he mumbled angrily.

“What did you just say?”

Peter just glared at him.

“You disobeyed a direct order-!“

“I don’t care!” he interrupted defiantly, swinging his legs around over the bed to face Tony. “Do you not realise that? I got those people out, that’s all that matters.”

“NO, ITS NOT!” Tony yelled. “YOU MATTER, PETER. Jesus Christ, I got in there and saw you lying unconscious and bleeding, I thought you were-“ he cut himself off and took a deep breath. “Fuck, Pete, you gotta look after yourself sometimes.”

“Like you?” he replied coolly.

“I don’t want you to be like me! Can’t you get that through your thick skull?”

“Yeah, I get it, Mr Stark, you want me to be better… but I saved all those people and I’m fine, I don’t see-“

“YOU’RE NOT FINE!” he roared. “YOU DIED ON THE TABLE WHILE I COULDN’T DO ANYTHING BUT WATCH. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW THAT FEELS?”

This was clearly news to Peter, who’s face dropped at hearing he had died. At the last sentence, however, he glared harshly at Tony and stood up furiously.

“I KNOW EXACTLY HOW THAT FEELS!” he shouted, jabbing a finger at Tony. “I watched uncle Ben bleed out in front of me and it was all my fault! Thats why I have to do this! I don’t want anyone else to die because I failed!”

Well, that was annoyingly familiar.

“You can’t save everyone, kid!” Tony argued. “And I get it, you can’t let go, but I can’t let go of you. I can’t lose you, Peter. What happened with Ben sucks horse shit, and if you could go back in time and prevent that happening you would, wouldn’t you?”

Peter stepped back in offence. “What kind of question is that? Of course, I would!”

“Then can’t you see that this is why I’m doing this?” Tony begged. “I’m just trying to protect you. If I tell you to get out, you need to get out. You barely came out alive and I can’t do that again, I can’t. And you won’t always be that lucky. If you keep pulling shit like that, one day you’re gonna- and I can’t-“

Sometimes, Tony could feel pain attacks slowly tugging at him, drawing him under like quicksand. But this one seemed to snatch him, plunging him under the icy water with no warning.

“Mr Stark?” Peter spoke up, eyes watching him anxiously. “Mr Stark, you gotta breathe,” he pleaded, guiding the man into the chair and crouching in front of him. “C’mon, deep breaths, follow me.”

It took a few minutes to bring the man back down, and when he did, he stared fixedly on Peter in front of him and reached out to gently take his wrist to feel his pulse again. The boy glanced down at his wrist in confusion, but his expression softened when Tony turned it over and placed his fingers over his pulse point.

“I-I’m okay, I’m right here,” he whispered, guilt crashing over him in waves at the fact that he had caused this. “I’m sorry, Mr Stark, I’m so sorry.”

Tony shook his head and let go of Peter’s wrist. “No, kiddo, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you. That was… I hated how my dad acted and yet here I am screaming at you.”

“I was being selfish.”

Tony barked out a shaky laugh. “Kid, you are anything but selfish. You’re terrifyingly selfless. You’re so good, Pete. You’re too good and it scares me because I know you’d risk your life over and over for random strangers, which is unbelievably heroic but I still hate it.”

“I know... I’m sorry for not considering your feelings. I was so wrapped up in thinking about Ben, I didn’t consider what you were going through. I guess sometimes it’s just hard to think that... never mind.”

Peter looked away, biting his lip and Tony frowned.

“Uh-uh, none of that. What were you gonna say?”

“I just... I know that you say you love me, but…”

“You don’t think I love you?” he asked weakly, feeling his self-hate coil a little tighter around him.

“No. I- I know you do l, but sometimes…” Peter trailed off and Tony’s heart clenched when he realised what he was struggling to say.

“Anxiety tells you I don’t?”

He nodded, still not looking at Tony. “It... it makes it easier, when I’m in situations like that, to think that I’m not important to people.”

Tony swallowed and leant forward to place a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Oh, bud. I’ve been there, done that. But trust me, I’ve learnt that it’s better to keep the important people in your life in your mind because it gives you an incentive to make it back home. If you go into missions thinking you don’t matter you won’t try nearly as hard as if you know you’ve got someone waiting at home for you. And you have ‘em, kid. You’ve got May, Ned, that scary girl you like... Pepper, Rhodey and Happy all love you, even if Happy pretends not to.

“And I love you, kid, so damn much it scares me. When… God, when you flatlined during surgery, I- I couldn’t breathe, I… couldn’t stop thinking about how you had died not knowing truly how much you mean to me. I don’t tell you I love you enough and it’s something I’m trying to work on-“

“It’s okay, Mr Stark,” Peter interrupted softly.

“It’s not. It’s not,” Tony shook his head insistently. “Pete, you’re… you’re like a- you’re like my- my-“

“I know,” he said, giving the man a small smile. “You don’t have to say it, I get it. I know that you're not a very affectionate person, but that's not a flaw.”

He shook his head frustratedly. “No, kid, I want to say it. You’re like a- a son to me. I care about you more than I ever thought I would and I love you more than you can imagine. And I’m so sorry for getting so angry at you, it was just- it was just my fear twisting out of control and pouring out in an ugly fit. I’m really proud of you, Pete. I am. I admire you so much. But you gotta stop being reckless, okay? If I tell you to do something, it’s for a reason. I can’t let anything happen to you, Pete. You’re way too important.”

“Okay, I’ll try,” Peter promised. “And I love you too, by the way. Ben was the closest thing I had to a father after my parents died and then- and then all that happened now that’s- that’s you.”

“Underoos, I- fuck, did you pull a stitch?” Tony stared at the growing red stain on the bandage around his abdomen in panic. “FRI, get Helen.”

“Huh, guess I did,” he replied nonchalantly. “Is that bad?”

“Yes, it’s bad! You need your blood inside your body.”

“Wow, they really don’t call you a genius for nothing,” Peter sniggered.

“Oh, shut up, you’re grounded.”

“Why are you out of bed?” Helen demanded, storming into the room and pushing Peter back onto the bed.

“His fault,” Peter grinned, pointing at Tony while the doctor just rolled her eyes and got out a small kit to restitch the wound.

“You were the one who felt the need to stand up suddenly to make a point, you drama queen.”

Both Peter and Helen paused to look at the billionaire with raised eyebrows.

“Right, pot kettle,” he murmured, scratching his goatee.

“What can I say?” Peter grinned. “I take after you.”

“You’re a little shit.”

“Also you.”

Tony reached across and flicked him on the nose, causing him to jerk away and laugh.

“Dude.”

“Don’t ‘dude’ me, young man.”

“Okay, dad.”

“You’re grounded ’til you’re thirty.”

“I don’t even live here!”

#iron dad #irondad fanfiction #peter parker #tony stark #Irondad and Spiderson

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rimmers-swimming-certificate · 5 years ago

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Red Dwarf fanfic - Comatose (3/?)

(part 1 | part 2)

Without the others in the room with him, it felt oddly loud in the medi-bay. The machinery hummed in a variety of different frequencies, while one monitor bleeped in time with his heart beat.

Lister looked down on his body from the side of the bed. “I don’t know how you can sleep through this row,” he said to himself.

“Oh, I’m sure it isn’t difficult sir,” Kryten said. Lister looked up to see the mechanoid walking through the door into the room. “After all, you sleep through your own snoring every night. The soundscape of this room is practically melodic by comparison.”

Lister glared at the mechanoid, who hung back by the door.

“I’m sorry, sir. I don’t wish to disturb your visiting time, but you’ve been here for hours, and there are several things I need to do.”

Lister shook his head, “No, Kryten, it’s fine, come on in.”

The machines continued to hum and bleep, while the drip at the side of the bed continued to feed nutrients into his body. It was hard to be sure, never having seen himself from this angle before, but Lister was certain that the body in the bed looked smaller and weaker than he had before. Kryten checked several displays and noted down information from each of them.

Lister watched as he worked, trying to decipher the meanings behind some of the readouts. “How’s he doing?” he asked.

“Who, sir?” Kryten asked. He finished making his notes, then fluffed the sleeping Lister’s pillows.

Lister stared at him in disbelief. “Who do you think?”

“Um…” Kryten said. “Mr Rimmer? He seems marginally less unhappy since you returned, sir, but as it’s only been a few hours, it’s quite difficult to be certain.”

Rimmer? Lister shook his head. “Kryten, I’m not asking about Rimmer. I’m asking about…” he indicated his unconscious body with a wave of one hand. “Hang on, why would Rimmer be happier now I'm back? Rimmer hates me.”

“Oh, I’m sure he doesn’t hate you, sir. A strong dislike, definitely, sometimes maybe even bordering on a mild loathing, but hate? Certainly not.”

Lister scowled.

“And as for why; well, I believe he enjoys having you to bicker with. He’s been rather down while you’ve been unwell. The prospect of bringing you back appears to have perked him up somewhat.”

He bet it did, Rimmer was probably eager to watch him have a terrible time, and Lister wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. “I wasn’t talking about Rimmer,” Lister said. “How’s he doing?” He pointed at his own body.

Kryten glanced at Lister, then at Lister’s body, and then back to Lister again. “Ah. Much the same as you were two hours ago, sir,” he said.

“No improvement then?” Lister hadn’t really expected one, still, it would be nice to hear that things were moving in the right direction.

“Nothing noticeable, no. But don’t be disheartened by that, sir. Any improvement is going to be measured in months, not hours.”

Lister nodded glumly. He had known that, of course. Kryten had told him as much just a few short hours ago. He wasn’t stupid, he knew it had been a lot of effort to place his mind into a hologram. It wasn’t something they would have bothered with if they expected him to wake up quickly.

“How will you know when he’s better, anyway?” Lister asked. “I mean, I’m no expert, obviously, but I’ve seen my fair share of films where someone ends up in a coma, and it always seems like you only know they’re better when they wake up. I’m not in there, so I’m not going to wake up. So, how will you know?”

“I won’t,” Kryten told him. ‘The medi-comp will. It’s been monitoring your condition for six months, and providing hourly updates. I’m fairly confident that it will be able to tell when you’re getting better. When it says the word, we’ll just pop you back in there and see what happens.”

Kryten being ‘fairly confident’ didn’t exactly fill Lister with confidence.

“And of course, if we do put you back too early, it would be no trouble at all to just flush you out again.”

“Flush me out. Great.” Lister felt sick. Could holograms vomit? He wasn’t sure, and he didn’t particularly want to find out. “This whole thing isn’t going to hurt my chances of recovery is it, Kryten?” he asked. “Me being out here wondering around I mean, instead of in there concentrating on getting better?”

Kryten shook his head. “I don’t believe so sir, no. After all, you were doing very little while you were in there, other than enjoying the world’s longest nap. I believe that the power of positive thinking is a myth. If humans had the ability to think themselves well, your species would have been, for all intents and purposes, immortal.”

“I doubt that, Kryten. It’s not some magic pill that makes everything better, it’s more like…” he reached for a comparison. “It’s more like homeopathy. Most people know it’s a load of crap, but when it’s the only option left, they’re willing to give it a go.”

“Well, sir,” Kryten told him. “I see no reason why you can’t think positively from out here.”

Lister supposed not.

He sat himself down on a chair at the side of the bed -- he wasn’t really sitting on it, of course. The holographic image of his body hovered a fraction of a fraction of a millimetre above the chair, giving the very realistic illusion that he was sitting on the chair -- and pondered. “Kryten, who’s idea was it to make me a hologram? Was it Rimmer’s?”

Kryten frowned. “No, I don’t believe so… Let me think…” as he thought, the mechanoid busied himself topping up the water in the vase of artificial flowers on the table next to the bed. “It was more of a group idea, I believe. One of those times where one idea leads to another. But I do believe the one who kick-started the whole discussion was actually Mr Cat.”

“Cat? Seriously?”

“Well, not deliberately. He actually said something along the lines of ��Hey, if he dies, can I have his bed, or will we bring him back like goalpost head?’ and the idea just blossomed from there. We already had the relevant technology, from when you and Mr Rimmer switched bodies. It was simply a case of flushing out your mind, and instead of inserting another personality, leaving your body empty, firing up your hologram and uploading your mind.”

Lister rubbed a hand down his face. He felt violated. The last time Kryten had performed a similar procedure on him without his permission, Rimmer had done a runner with his body, and for one brief, terrifying moment, when Starbug had made a crash landing, he had been certain that the hologram had killed him.

“Mr Rimmer was against it actually, initially. He claimed it was because he was enjoying having your sleeping quarters to himself, however I was never convinced by that reason.”

“Kryten,” Lister said. “Didn’t I tell you never to use that bodyswap tech on me ever again?”

Kryten nodded. “You did,” he confirmed. “But in the intervening time, I’ve managed to break from my programming to the extent that I’m now able to disobey your orders. You know that, sir. After all, you were the one that helped me to do it. Besides, this wasn’t exactly the same procedure, which made completely disregarding your wishes much easier.”

Great. He’d suffered nightmares for months after that whole incident. Even now, over a year later, he sometimes woke up in a cold sweat from a dream of finding his bruised and battered body dead in the crashed Starbug, leaving him trapped forever in Rimmer’s holographic body. A shiver ran through him, and he folded his arms tightly against the imagined chill.

All this was just a little bit too close to his nightmares for comfort.

“Sir, did I do wrong? Would you rather I’d left you unconscious inside an injured body? I can easily put you back, if that’s what you prefer.”

Lister shook his head. “No.”

“Then you’re happy about the decision we made?”

He shook his head again. “No.”

“Then…” Kryten looked very confused. “Then…”

Lister sighed. “Relax, Kryten. ‘Happy’ might be pushing it a bit far, is all. But yeah, given a choice between this, and laying there comatose for the next couple of months, I guess I’ll take this.”

“I’m so glad, sir,” Kryten told him.

“But once my body’s all healed up and I’m back inside it, no matter how good you get at disregarding orders, consider this a standing order to never, and I mean never, use that tech again without my express permission. Got it? If you think there’s even a chance you might be tempted, to chloroform me and switch me with Rimmer, we’re going to flush all the mind swap stuff out of an airlock.”

Kryten nodded. “I would never.”

But he had, and Lister wasn’t sure he was ever going to be completely over it. He nodded, satisfied for now.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, sir, your body requires a bit of routine maintenance.”

Lister frowned. “What kind of maintenance? Anything I can do to help?”

The mechanoid shook his head. “Not really, sir. You’re a little too intangible right now to be of any use. No offence.”

Lister nodded. “Right.” That was going to take a bit of getting used to.

“Besides, I was just about to give you -- that is to say your body -- a sponge bath.”

He really didn’t want to stick around for that. The whole situation was weird enough, without watching Kryten wiping down his comatose body with tepid water. “I’ll go… see what everyone else is up to,” he said, and made a hasty retreat.

(next)

#red dwarf #red dwarf fanfic #dave lister #kryten #david lister #my fic

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selfmademen · 5 years ago

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Top Surgery Experience

Okay, so I said I would do a write up of my top surgery experience and I’ve finally gotten around to it. Uni started right after so I’ve been fairly frazzled.

Please feel free to ask any questions you may have! I’ll do my best to answer them.

To start with, I currently live in NSW, Australia. There are a few Australian top surgeons, but as a NSW resident my best bet was Dr Steven Merten, with Pure Aesthetics in Sydney. Because Australia has a public healthcare system I was able to get my top surgery under that scheme. As far as I’m aware Dr Merten is the only top surgeon who offers this surgery through the public system. He works in partnership with Concord Hospital in Sydney, and that’s where I had my surgery. If you go privately there are other options for the hospital you stay at. There are pros and cons to the public system, which I’ll detail below.

Pros:

I paid $500~ out of pocket instead of between $5k and $10k (if you have private health insurance it may cover some)

Since he’s in my state I didn’t have to travel far

He’s one of the most experienced top surgeons in the state

there’s two places for appointments, either at his clinic or at the Macquarie uni rooms

Cons:

because I went publicly he didn’t perform the surgery personally, rather a registrar did. However, he was in the room the entire time overseeing the operation.

because he’s so popular I had to wait a full year from the first consultation to the actual surgery date

it was extremely hard to get onto the wait list due to how popular he is.

the public system is only available to NSW residents over 18

I was lucky in that my GP at the time knew him professionally and called in a favour so that I knew the moment his books were open, and I am forever grateful for that. It is MUCH easier to get an appointment with him through the private system, but that’s a lot more expensive. For me, the pros far outweighed the cons here, and I decided I could wait a year for my surgery. I had also intended to lose weight beforehand, but that didn’t happen. Woops.

Prior to my first consultation I needed a referral both from my GP, and a registered psychologist or psychiatrist detailing my transition and documented dysphoria surrounding my breasts. The first consultation was $300 iirc, and I paid a $100 deposit, so only paid $200 on the day. Medicare also gave me a $100-something rebate.

The first consultation was fairly quick. He asked some questions about my transition, what my expectations were regarding surgery, detailed my options, and explained the procedures. He measured my breasts, but never touched me (I kinda just picked them up and moved them where he asked). He also took a photo of my chest, with my consent.

I didn’t actually hear from them until about three months before my surgery because my details got lost, but USUALLY the hospital will get in contact with you regarding your surgery date, what you should expect, and when your pre-op consultation is. I also had to fill out a pre-op health questionnaire and personal details. Due to my high level of haemoglobin as a side effect of T, I was required to provide them with more recent blood test results, but you may not have to do this. Usually there is also a pre-op appointment with the nurses and anethetist at the hospital, but the nurse I spoke to said that I didn’t need to go if I didn’t have any pressing concerns.

My pre-op consult with Dr Merten was a couple of weeks before my surgery, however, it’s usually around the same time. This one was $100, and I also had to pay $130 for a medical compression vest which I have to wear for up to three weeks post-op. Again, Medicare partially reimbursed my consultation fee, but not the vest.

During this consultation we basically covered the same things, and I also saw a nurse who told me what medications to avoid, and briefed me on post op care. She also gave me my medical vest, wound tape, and some pamphlets.

Some things she covered:

smokers should stop smoking 12 weeks before surgery

you should limit your alcohol intake the week before surgery, and don’t drink alcohol AT ALL during the two days immediately prior to surgery

no herbal medications, asparin, ibuprofen, or other blood thinners for two weeks prior to surgery. IF YOU ARE ON BLOOD THINNERS FOR MEDICAL REASONS THIS MAY BE DIFFERENT FOR YOU.

do not eat or drink anything from midnight the night before your surgery. Morning medication (antidepressants in my case) can be taken with a sip of water.

the night before and morning of surgery I had to shower with a special soap that was provided in order to kill bacteria on my skin.

I did have to call the admissions centre the day before my surgery to confirm my appointment time. For me it was 8:30. Before going in I had a brief interview with a nurse, who took down my details and checked me for allergies and medical conditions. I was given my wrist bands (red, since I have a codeine allergy), and directed up to where I would meet the nurses. There I changed into the operating gown (you can keep your undies on) and compression socks due to my weight.

I was taken to a prep room before the operating theatre where Dr Merten marked my chest. Basically where things would be cut, lipo’d, etc. I was feeling nervous so the anethetist also came in, did my canula and gave me something to relax (don’t know what it was). He was extremely kind and friendly, and said he was honoured to be included in this part of my journey, which I honestly thought was an incredibly sweet thing to say, and I’m very grateful for how he looked after me.

The relaxation shit kinda made me dopey, and pretty much immediately I was wheeled into the theatre. They had me wriggle from the bed onto the table, I nearly fell off, but it was all good. I don’t really remember much from here, but there was some music playing, and the nurses and registrar were setting up.

At this point the anethetist put the mask on and told me to take some deep breaths. I remember it tasting and smelling really weird, and the next thing I know I was waking up in recovery.

I’m not sure how long I was in recovery for because I kept drifting in and out, but they gave me something for the pain and then wheeled me to the ward. I started waking up properly around this time, had a chat with the people transporting me, and by the time I was in the ward I was fully alert (and really needed to pee).

Because of my size and the way the surgery worked out, I did have a few staples at the ends of my incisions, and I also had to put the compression vest on. I also had drains, with bags that needed to be changed every twelve hours. Nurses would also come and take my blood pressure and check that everything was okay and that I wasn’t in too much pain. They were all extremely welcoming and accepting, never misgendered me once, and even double checked my name and pronouns to ensure that everyone knew. My mate was also allowed to stay with me pretty much the whole day until dinner, which really helped me cos I’m bad with hospitals.

After surgery I was stiff and ached a little, but there wasn’t too much pain. I was able to go to the toilet myself, although wiping was very difficult for the first week.

I stayed overnight, and was discharged the next day. They gave me anti-inflammatories, antibiotics, and some opiates to help the pain. I should note here that I do have an extremely high pain tolerance, so outside of days where I pushed myself a bit too far, I generally didn’t need to use them.

I’m unsure if my experience is unusual, as I was able to do pretty much everything immediately post-op. Of course, I’ve been taking it easy, but dressing, sleeping, cooking, moving, has all so far been generally okay. I have had some pain on days where I moved about too much, or sat up too much, but that’s also partially chronic pain flaring up due to my bad back.

I was discharged with my drains still in, as I’m a bleeder. Usually with Dr Merten they’re removed before discharge, but I was sent home with some bags and instructed to change them every 24 hours and keep a record of how much had drained. I think I wound up keeping my drains in for around a week before they were removed.

I went to the medical centre twice to have my dressings changed and drains checked (and eventually removed), and was sent home with a sterile staple remover for my GP to remove my staples with. They’ll be coming out at the end of the week. The drains didn’t hurt when removed, it just felt like an odd tugging sensation. The stitches Dr Merten used are dissolving ones, so no need to get them taken out.

I do have to change my nipple dressings every three days, and the tape on my incisions can stay on for up to a week. The stuff I use is extremely strong and has glue on it, so I’m a bit hesitant to change it on my own (nearly ripped a staple out last time I changed my dressings).

I’m roughly three weeks post-op now, and I have pretty much all my mobility back. Showering is difficult, as is bending over or reaching to one side (tugs on my incisions). There is pain when I do things, but unless something actively tugs at, touches, or puts pressure on my wounds I’m not in any pain. Mostly its just an annoyance at this stage.

I’m still sleeping on my back, although I can lie on my side for short periods of time. There’s some bruising around my armpits where I had liposuction, and there is a small numb patch on my left side. I can’t feel my nipples, but I also couldn’t feel them prior to this so it’s not a huge loss.

I’ve seen some people say that they felt depressed post-op because of a hormone fluctuation, but personally when I saw my chest it felt natural and right. I didn’t cry (not a big crier) and I wasn’t surprised or shocked or… overwhelmed. To me it was my outer body finally reflecting my inner self. I already looked like this in my own mind, so it was just natural that it looks the way it does post-op.

Unfortunately some dysmorphia and self-esteem issues surrounding my weight have resurfaced, but that’s not really related to the top surgery, and it’s something I’m able to work on as I recover.

If there’s something I haven’t covered that you’re curious about, please send an ask! I’ve tried to be as thorough as possible, but its been a few weeks and some details are fuzzy.

#top surgery

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 5 years ago

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The Art Of Remembrance (Part 35)

They don’t make a move until a week or so comes to pass, when the rencorcements finally arrive. The invasion of the compounds is rather swift and quick, sheer number alone would have done well enough. But in reporting just how terribly they were ravaging and savagely harvesting from the spirit vines earned them aid from the Foggy Swamp Tribe. As it were, the Vine Research Facility had already been treading stagnant but very dangerous waters with vengeful spirits showing their teeth.

The element of surprise had been lost when Ting-Lao had pieced it together that he hadn’t been talking to Aikara and the new recruit. No less, the man was easy to apprehend. In way of entrances and excites, there was only one. A poor design choice, undoubtedly, but a fortunate one for them.

The only loose end left is Long-Feng. No doubt, the man will be elusive now that his compounds have all been compromised. But they have yet to figure out what the man’s exact goal is. Though Ting-Lao swears up and down that he personally is only in on it for the research. “Call it a crazed craving for knowledge.” He squeaks. “A morbid curiosity, I want to see exactly how chi works and how it flows from within. I want to know just what we can do...how far we can push things.” He rambles. “It is fascinating to see a born waterbender wield a flame or raise a boulder. I want to know the long term effects…”

Sokka has heard quite enough, next to him he gathers that Azula has too. She stands with her arms folded, looking as cold and cross as she ever had in her war days.

“I can’t say that research and fact hoarding is a bad thing.” She agrees. “But really, if you had any real love for knowledge, you’d be aware that it is unwise to provoke the spirits...and in their own territory too.” She mutters.

“It’s not natural!” Sokka speaks up. “Only the Avatar can bend multiple elements.” And that isn’t even factoring how truly invasive it is to tamper with and alter one's chi and spirit energy. Aang has mentioned time and time again how wrong and how appalling it had felt to reap Ozai’s chi away.

Something in Sokka’s stomach heaves. What if Ozai is in league with Long-Feng? What if he is trying to get his bending back. Sokka glances over at Azula again. And by taking it from his own daughter…

“What is Long-Feng’s goal?” Azula asks.

“It is simple really.” Offers Ting-Lao. “Vengeance. He doesn’t like you, princess.” The man sneers. “And he doesn’t like the Avatar much more. Power as well, the Earth Kingdom should have been under his rule. His goal was to bend three of the four elements, create a new Dai Li of dual bending masters, and reclaim what should have been his before you stole that from him.” He spits. “We didn’t have to wipe your memories, but he was insistant. He wanted the powerful princess to know what it is to be under someone’s control.”

For once Azula doesn’t seem to go tense at the mention of a grittier time in her past. Instead she stares on at him with a degree of indifference. “If it was rightfully his, he’d be on the throne. And if he was fool enough to fail a power play the first time around then he is undeniably unsuitable.” She shrugs.

Sokka still finds himself wishing that she wouldn’t speak like that, it still sends chills down his spine each time. But he had already told her that he would love her in spite of it. That he wouldn’t look at her differently…

“Long Feng is a great leader.” Ting-Lao declares. “Infinitely better than you were. You stole his Dai Li and then you banished them in a fit of psychotic rage. There’s something wrong with you. We knew it right when we took you.”

Now her posture seems to change some. It is so subtle that he only knows it because he has come to know her. She steps, seemingly nonchalantly, closer to Sokka.

.oOo.

“Is that right?” Azula replies dryly. “Do tell me how you’d take to being captured.” She pauses, looking around. “I do recall a lot of screeching and kicking.”

The man’s face colors.

“Really, I don’t think that anyone sensible would go down without a fight.”

He scowls, “a fight is one thing. What you did...well I’ve never seen something so feral and unhinged. It was like we hadn’t even captured a human. Made it much easier to slice you open and listen to you weep about it.”

She doesn’t think that a monster would feel as queasy as she does at the thought of it. Her fingers absently graze over the scars on her arms.

“We watched you for weeks before that, you shouted at things we shouldn't see. Threw fire at them too. You were talking about how everyone was coming to get you. Your delusions made it harder for us too…”

“Delusions.” Azula mutters. “Are they really delusions if they are true?”

The man laughs. “Perhaps if your mind had picked up on a real threat. You kept rambling about your mother and brother. And that look in your eyes. We knew that we were about to cage a beast.”

Though it weaves a very heavy amount of unease into her belly, Azula doesn’t take the bait. She waves the comment off. “Clearly I am perfectly civilized.”

“For now.” He shrugs. “Really we did you a favor, cleansing that evil, broken mind of yours. You think that it won’t unravel again if you manage to get your memories back?”

This time her stomach sinks completely. It is one thing to prepare herself to be vindictive and spiteful again and another matter entirely to consider once again dealing with the things that had sent her to Fire Lake Institute.

Sokka vowed that he could love her despite her past, but she thinks that she might be pushing her luck to ask him to accept her with a head full of delusions and visions.

.oOo.

Azula holds up a dismissive hand. “Regardless, Long Feng isn’t fit to run anything and it isn’t for him to play with spirit energies.” She comes to stand directly before Ting-Lao. “It is a fool’s errand just like his first grab.” She turns away from him and to one of her imperial firebenders. “We are done for the day, lock him back up aboard the ship.”

“Wait!” Sokka speaks up.

She peers over at him and nods her head.

“Are you guys working with Ozai too?”

“He offered us information and inside intelligence in exchange for the possibility of getting his bending back.” Ting-Lao replies. “Long Feng saw humor in delivering it to him with the knowledge that we’d harvested it from his precious golden child.” He glares at Azula.

Sokka wonders if Azula shares the relief he feels in knowing that her father, for once, hadn’t deliberately tried to sacrifice her. Though a good lot of his relief comes in know that they won’t have to deal with the former Fire Lord on top of everything else.

He wanders over to Azula and rubs her shoulders as the imperial firebenders carry the doctor off.

“You alright?” He asks.

“You ask me that a lot.” She mumbles. “I’m not delicate. I…”

“You are a powerful fire breathing dragon. Got it. But I’m not, I am a sensitive guy and I like to make sure the people I care about are okay. I can’t lose another person.”

“Sensitive…” she rolls her eyes. But her expression softens. “What do you mean by, another person?”

He has to laugh. Even in the middle of everything, she still has many questions. As he walks with her out of their makeshift interrogation tent, he tells her about his fleeting romance with Yue.

Frankly he is glad that she had brought it up, her sympathetic stares are reassuring. It helps him to decide that she has much more compassion than everyone else seems to account for. More than she seems to account for.

“I’m glad to have run into the both of you.” Dr. Yu-Kang greets.

Sokka had nearly forgotten that she, Dr. Phan, and his team of healers and surgeons were aboard one of the several ships.

“I am pleased to say that Yion’s family has been reunited with her and that she is on her way to recovery. The Fire Lord is going to have her on trial when she does.” She pauses. “Though right now I think that you might be more interested in other matters.” Her stare wavers between the two of them.

“Go on.” Azula prompts.

“Dr. Phang and his team have been going over the research notes. We believe that they are going to be able to safely recover your memories. We will give them until we reach the homelands to study the notes and thoroughly plan out how to proceed. You should have your memories some time next week if you so choose.”

“That’s...wonderful news.” Azula replies.

He can hear the apprehension in her tone and he squeezes her hand.

Evidently Dr. Yu-Kang is as perspective as ever. “You two have grown quite close, I think that, that will be very helpful for after her memories are retrieved.” She pauses and addresses Azula. “I’ve worked with you for around three years, princess. Having someone who you trust and someone who loves you is going to make a very big difference.”

Azula seems to swallow and Sokka offers her a reassuring smile.

“You were never a bad person, princess. But you always had yourself closed off.”

“You aren’t worried that she’ll…” Sokka ponders his word choice. “Revert once she gets her memories back?”

“I’m not terribly concerned, no.” Dr. Yu-Kang replies. “If nothing else, the princess is an intelligent young woman; I’m sure that she’ll realize that there is no sense in tarnishing salvaged relationships so that she can cling onto old resentments.”

He wishes that he could tell what she is thinking.

“Yes, I suppose that there is no sense in that…” she trails off.

He thinks that it is the reassurance that she needs.

“I will let Dr. Phang know that you will be ready for the procedure. Have a good evening.”

“Yes, thank you.” Azula replies. “Good night.”

Sokka grins, she hadn’t hesitated to take the offer this time. Though he is certain that she still retains some level of anxiety. He can’t say that he blames her. They are going to be playing with her mind, quite literally.

“What if I lose my memories again?” She vocalizes her final, unaddressed fear.

“Then I’ll tell you your life story the first time you ask for it this time around.” He laughs.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Azula #Sokka #Sokkla #Fanfiction

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britt-rae-law · 5 years ago

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It wasn’t Rocket Science, It was just Brain Surgery

09.12.2016 - It has been 10 months since my brain surgery to partially remove a central brain tumor. Emotionally and psychologically coming to terms with the experience has been the hardest part. It has been a difficult topic to really talk about and explain to others, which is why I have found it easier to shrug it off as no big deal. I also feel self-conscious about my experience to a certain degree. But lately I have been thinking about how reading other people’s stories about brain surgery recovery helped me in a way no one else could have: explaining what to expect, if certain things are normal or not, the do’s and don’ts of recovery and finding the personal motivation to recover. I have learnt a lot about myself and have had an epiphany about life and identity. I came to realise that your entire being - who you are - is shaped by your brain. You are because you can think and feel; and you can’t do that without your brain. Your whole body is just there to protect and utilise your brain. I have decided that it might not only be cathartic for me to write my own experience, but could also be encouraging and useful for others.

On the 2nd of February 2016, my world was changed forever. After months of going to doctors in order to treat - or at least find out the cause of - severe migraines, random projectile vomiting, pins and needles, constant fatigue and sometimes blurred vision, I finally found out from a specialist that I have a brain tumor. Sitting in the waiting room and seeing the nurses facial responses to my MRI scan was unsettling. Waiting rooms are undoubtedly a symbol of anxiousness. I remember not knowing what I was about to be told, but feeling the tangible sense of unease fill the room. I could never have predicted how much my life was about to change.

The news was surreal, one of those “this happens to other people, not to me” moments. I didn’t grasp then what I was being told. After a couple of days back at home, I returned to hospital where I met the neurosurgeon who was to perform my operation. He carefully explained the procedure; cut open my head, remove the veins of the tumor, cut down the middle of my brain, drain the growth then cut out what they can. Funny how the first time I cried was when he told me that I would be missing three months of varsity.

I don’t remember much after that. I had the surgery on the 9th of February and had been in a deep sleep for a couple of days. I was told that I had two grand-mal seizures and an aneurysm; my left side having lost motion. Waking up and becoming conscious really are two different things. I had been told stories about being awake and having conversations with people, but I do not remember any of those experiences. During the process of becoming conscious, I was suddenly aware of how different everything felt. How difficult it was to perform simple tasks and that everything over-stimulated me to the point of exhaustion. As I was slowly becoming aware of my body and what I had just been through – knowing the long row of stitches across my head is evidence of the trauma – I became responsive and emotive. I was experiencing fear, anxiety, restlessness, nervousness, worry, doubt, and a lingering unknown. There was a massive flood of emotion for a couple of weeks owing to the realization that I was alive and had survived something so traumatic. Then I couldn’t sleep. I was so scared. The nurses would bathe me and talk to me until I calmed down. I remember having asked to brush my teeth at 3 A.M and the nurse said no. That was the first time I cried since the operation. I think I cried every day after that. They don’t tell you if you will eventually stop being so emotional; and if so, when?

My biggest shock came when the physiotherapist asked me to move my legs up and down and I could only move my right one. I would lie there for ages thinking, “move”, and picturing my left leg sliding upwards and downwards. But nothing would happen. The frustration experienced in that moment was something I had never felt before. The disconnection between my thoughts and actions and that loss of control was absolutely terrifying. Looking at me, you would never think I was having such an intense internal struggle. I may have just been lying there, but I was spending every waking moment trying to overcome my body’s resistance to movement through thought. I felt trapped inside my own body. That’s when I realised that you and your body are so separate. I experienced this again in situations where I would grab things tightly in my left hand, clenched fist, and be unable to let go. I had grabbed a nurse once, and no matter how much I wanted to let go, my hand was not listening. This was a similar side effect to split brain patients; my left side of my body was not listening to the right hemisphere of my brain.

The realization that I stuttered, and spoke very slowly, frustrated me. I would try to speak as little as possible and would grow despondent upon hearing myself, as it did not coincide with what was going on inside my mind. I had uncontrollable tremors in my hands and arms. An occupational therapist tested me with some basic mathematics and memory exercises. It was harder than I thought it would be. I felt like a child as I struggled to identify shapes and objects. At times I would be okay then suddenly hit a complete blank and panic. She said this is called a “brain stutter” and occasionally this still happens to me now. But I have learnt to take a moment to think of something else until I am settled enough to return to the previous task. I have forgotten things. But I don’t know what things I have forgotten until I am presented with a person that I should know or story that I should remember, but don’t.

Learning to walk was the strangest feeling. I never knew how much thought and co-ordination goes into something so “easy”. I noticed how my concentration during such a seemingly simple task was affected so greatly by the environment. I became aware of how different walking is in a crowded space versus an empty space; a well lit space versus a dim space; stairs versus the ground, ect. I eventually changed my mind-set so that instead of feeling frustration or upset when I was struggling or unable to do things, I would celebrate small victories. Victories such as eating without messing, going to the bathroom on my own, putting on my slippers by myself, using a zip or fastening a button and picking things up with my left hand. These are small achievable goals that kept me positive and motivated me to recover.

The aknowledgement of this tumour and the aftermath of the surgery changed me. I became aware of this foreign body within my brain and its presence became defining. In order for me to move on in life I had to accept and normalise its existence. No one has the intention of making someone diagnosed with a tumour feel like a pariah, but it tends to happen with the sensitivity of a life altering diagnoses. The fact that I was someone with a brain tumour surrounded by people who do not have one; or that I am someone who has had multiple brain surgeries, automatically makes me feel like an outsider.

Audre Lorde in her Cancer Journals said “either I could love my body one breasted now, or remain forever alien to myself”. This statement hits hard. Coming to terms with your own identity is no easy task especially when it is something life altering; I had been through this process once before with my sexuality. And so I decided that I needed to accept myself with a tumor and as a brain surgery survivor, or be alien to myself once more.

These internal struggles continue – even now - unbeknownst to those around me. My thinking is definitely slower than before and it takes me longer to process and respond to things – sometimes this can be overwhelming, even if I am the only one aware of it. This is where insecurity comes in to play; at times I wonder if I am being perceived as “normal” in social situations. This then makes me feel like I should explain to to strangers that I am still recovering so that my behavior can be understood. I don’t know then if people are looking at me with curiosity, concern or confusion. Sometimes I feel strong in what I have overcome, and at times I feel so alone in my experience. I learnt to go easy on myself, and take things slow. My happiness comes from being myself in comfortable spaces; a renaissance that is truly liberating. I say renaissance because there is a clear distinction of myself and life before and after the surgery. Things feel different. Things are different. There is no way to tell if what I feel/ felt was normal. But my new normal involves an inner peace that does not take life for granted.

I didn’t know that It would take this long. I didn’t know that I would have such difficulty placing my own personality. I didn’t know that I would feel so foreign in my own body, so much so that I didn’t like looking at myself in mirrors or photographs. I wasn’t okay with being this person. That I would put on so much weight from the medication and the lack of mobility. Or that I would be so fearful of old symptoms returning and that I would feel a sense of guilt for surviving something that so many others didn’t.

The surgery is physically over, but mentally, I am still processing everything that had happened. I could go on but instead I will say that I am thankful my surgery went so well and that I was where I needed to be at that time. Now I am able to adjust to new strategies and am dealing with these overwhelming feelings in healthy ways.

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20.09.2019 - Today I write this 10 months after my second craniotomy under completely different circumstances. I have experienced this recovery at a different stage of my life, I am older, wiser and more motivated; facing a new perspective on the human experience. Learning from everyone around me as I know that everyone has a story and everyone is a lesson, offering a unique perspective on the chaos of humanity. My second diagnosis and surgery did make me wonder what lessons I still needed to learn. I was angered. Then depressed. Wasn’t one surgery enough? Then I surrendered. Truth be told, there has been a lot to learn... and there’s still so much more! The most valuable lessons about my body, health, consciousness, community and purpose came from the aftermath of the second surgery. I suppose at some point, you need to decide whether you are going to be a victim or if you are going to use the resources you have access to in order to deal with the situation you are faced with.

Although living in the past can hinder your ability to move forward/overcome. Looking back and consciously reflecting on how far you have progressed through a certain phase in your life is rewarding. I often do that of course when I think about my progress from my first surgery until now. But do not stay there too long. Do not allow your past experiences to define you. Allow them to inform your future and motivate more progression. I am also acknowledging the importance of bridging the gaps between geography and lifestyles as the older you get, the more you realise you need the people from your past. I have been pleasantly suprised by the teachers, friends, classmates, mentors and family members that have laid branches and connections to me in the most unexpected ways and places. I reflect on these relationships and acknowledge their contributions with gratitude.

I came across a quote by Tony Robbins that said: “it is not the events of our lives that shape us and who we are, but rather our beliefs as to what those events mean.” And those beliefs are determined by the way in which we tell our story. The meaning we attach to the events—how we interpret them— is what shapes who we are today and who we’ll become tomorrow. And I am now actively telling a better story in this chapter of my life by creating the reality I experience rather than passively becoming my default self. Now knowing that things happen FOR you, and not TO you has been game changing for me. And since curating the world I immerse myself in - deciding which communities I am a part of, deciding what motivates me and why, choosing to only invest my energy into things that will contribute to achieving my goals - I have recognised the power in my sense of self.

This is a new sense of self whereby the changes and transformations I am making on the other side of this trauma have presented an opportunity to identify and build a new structure and way of living. This change has at times been uncomfortable - but as Nerri Oxman said in ‘Abstract Art of Design (Season 2 episode 2), “If it feels uncomfortable, you’re probably doing something right.” This process of change has also brought along with it responsibility, which I now understand as the ability to respond to circumstances. I am in control of my responses and no longer a victim of my diagnosis or as a patient, providing a reorientation around healthcare and healing. Now knowing that ‘Doctor’ means ‘Teacher’ (and not healer) and that movement and food is the best medicine, I can asses that medication, doctor visits and language were not the best ways for me to recover, but rather movement, community and nourishment has allowed me to surpass previous mis-understandings of what my healthy self should be, look and feel like. For me, the courageous part of it all has been turning towards the self, orienting the symptoms - how I feel and what could have caused the tumor to manifest - and making the necessary changes. Everyday I see how I have progressed in different facets of my life, I can’t help pass judgement on myself but i am aware that it is an endless process.

This has cultivated a new kind of strength coming from a different place of mature consciousness - one that has developed from healthy habits, consistency and daily practices.

And so the journey continues...

#survivor #Brain Health #Brain Tumor #Personal

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bigskydreaming · 6 years ago

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Btw, for those who’ve been asking, just a quick update on the jaw sitch:

I had that last appointment on Thursday and it went really, even surprisingly well? Like, better news than even she’d hoped for. We were crossing our fingers that the last CT scan (the one to map exact dimensions we’d need the prosthetic to be) would match up with a premade prosthetic so we wouldn’t have to wait to order a custom made and could jump straight to trying to expedite the surgery.

Turns out I don’t actually need a prosthetic at all. The top of my jawbone, the condyle, which everyone thought was completely destroyed from all the previous scans and was part of what had to be replaced, its actually still there and largely intact. It wasn’t snapped off or eroded away like they’d been thinking, it actually just got bent enough at the top of it that somehow it slipped and got shoved up....underneath my skull, or behind my skull, I’m honestly not sure what the right word is to describe it, because of the angles/dimensions involved. The reason they could only see it with this last scan and not any of the others is this last scan like....looked through the back of my skull essentially, and showed the inside curvature of the side of the skull that’s where all the Drama is. And that’s where they saw, oh hey, he’s still got an intact condyle, its just been stuck inside/under/behind his skull this whole time instead of resting in the joint where its supposed to be and allowing for proper opening and closing. And as it got worse and worse this past year and a half, it wasn’t because I was constantly grinding down on what was left of the bone and wearing it more and more away....it was that it was actually constantly shoving up more inside my skull, day by day. So, still not fun, just a different kind of suck than they thought, lol.

I’m actually a little bit miffed by the reveal, not gonna lie, because like....it literally is EXACTLY what I’d been saying it felt like the problem was to me. For a year and a half. From the very start. From the very first time I went to the ER after it first snapped or slipped out of place or whateverthefuck, the very first doctor I met with, I literally described it as feeling like my jawbone got stuck up under or behind my skull and couldnt get loose or descend properly. And they were like nah, that’s not a thing, must be TMJ. And literally every other doctor I went to since then (including this one), I told each and every one of them the same exact thing but noooooooooo, why listen to the dude whose body it literally is lol why would he know what it feels like is the problem. Lmao. Ah well. Doesn’t change anything at this point and not worth souring my relationship with this doctor since at least she’s getting results for me and is easy enough to work with and way better than that other one I was going to before. But still. Annoying. It gives me no pleasure to be like ‘ugh I was right, I told you all’ because like, lol I don’t need the fucking ego boost, I would have much rather taken the ‘get started fixing all this a year earlier than it took to find the solution and thus spare myself a lot of time, money, aggravation and oh yeah pain’ option. BUT OH WELL.

Anyway. So this changes things a little but not a done. The general course of treatment is still the same. They still have to do the exact same surgery, only now instead of opening me up and putting in a new prosthetic joint, they’ll open me up, cut off the bottom part of my jaw so that they can then basically dig out the upper part from where its stuck behind/under/inside my skull, do something *mutters vague medical-ese in place of the details I glazed over here and didn’t totally catch look I am still very sleep deprived all the time*, then manually reset the condyle/top of the jawbone in the joint they restore via the vague medical-ese mumble mumble stuff, manually realign the whole rest of my lower jaw and then screw the bottom and top pieces of jawbone back together with like a plate or something.

But now at least we don’t have to wait for a prosthetic, or pay for one, so that’s at least a couple thousand dollars cheaper though the rest of the surgery is still the same as before,like 20K out of pocket or thereabouts. And its always better when they can use/salvage your natural body instead of having to use prosthetics or insert foreign material - theoretically, this means I should heal faster, regain more or fuller function of my whole jaw, and there’s less risk of nerve damage since all the muscles and everything are still attached to the jaw and just unable to do their job because its literally just stuck, but again its always better if like, they don’t have to try and reattach or reintegrate muscles and all that around a brand new piece of bone or prosthetic that they place in there for the first time.

So its literally just a waiting game now? She sent off her updated notes and case file to my insurance company now to try and expedite getting a greenlight on the surgery. It only takes two weeks to book the surgery and get into an OR somewhere, and the only thing we’re waiting for now is payment, basically. As soon as I can afford the surgery, we can schedule it, and two weeks later, bam. So fingers crossed that my insurance company will approve it - she feels pretty confident they will, because she thinks she’s made more than enough argument and provided plenty of documentation to prove its an absolute medical necessity (hahahahaha just let them try and argue w/me about that, I WILL DEVOUR THEIR ENTIRE SOULS, MY JAW IS 90% UNHINGED ALREADY, IT’LL BE EASY).

So mostly its just a matter of how long it takes to get an answer from them, and if they’ll approve the whole thing or only part of it, and if the latter, how long it’ll take me to raise the rest. She said give it a week before I start calling the insurance company directly myself, to nag them, lol. But that her best guess is it’ll probably be around three weeks or so to hear back, for something like this.

So, fingers crossed that I get a quick answer and a good one in terms of paying at least most of the surgery. And then....blessed scalpel and morphine drip. *weeps in I Have Never Been So Excited To Be Cut Open On A Table Like A Fish, Seriously, What A Weird Thing To Have Be Like Christmas and My Birthday and Some Other Random Assortments of Holidays Used As An Excuse for Gift-Giving*

She’s planning on doing the surgery on a Saturday as its usually easier to book an OR on the weekend, and the surgery itself should only take a day and I shouldn’t need to stay overnight after all. BUT I still need to figure out finding some way to stay with someone for the ten days after the surgery though, which - no idea how to go about that just yet lol, working on it. But my jaw’ll have to be wired shut for the ten days post surgery, liquid diet only, so she was like “LOL yeah no, you should definitely not count on being able to talk for the first couple weeks of recovery. Or stand up really. Or like, get out of bed at all pretty much. As much as it sucks right now, its gonna suck even more then, you will definitely hate everything and it’ll hurt even more before it gets better, BUT then it’ll actually get better. Finally.” Like, I’m paraphrasing, but that was my takeaway, lol. Yay. Things to look forward, much excitement, can’t wait.

Nah but like, I will literally put up with anything at this point in order for it to be over, and after that, I shouldn’t need more than a month or two of physical therapy before I have full function of my jaw back. But she thinks it’ll be if not quite as good as new, at least close enough for there not to be much difference. She said she sees no reason for there to be any lingering or residual pain or nerve issues or vertigo once my recovery period is over, and my face should look pretty much the same as it did before all this started then. Said there’s a slight possibility, depending on certain things with how the surgery goes, that my chin might end up a little more recessed than it had been originally, but not enough that it’d be especially noticeable - if anything, it probably would only show as different from before when looked at in profile, from a side view.

LOL, she was like, there is an additional procedure I can do right then and there while we already have you under, that’ll bring your chin forward and compensate for any differences there and its easiest to do it right at the same time as everything else. But that’s essentially just a cosmetic procedure, so your insurance likely wouldn’t pay for that. And I was like okay, well just so I know, how much is that procedure? And she’s like, oh, 8K. And I was all HAHAHAHAHAHA, doc, you funny. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m vain and shallow, but I’m cheaper and broker than I am vain and shallow, so that’s gonna be a hard pass from me. I’ll stick to just overcompensating with my wit and dazzling personality, mmkay.

LOL. Anyway, so that’s where things stand right now, just....waiting. And hoping. And crossing fingers. And trying not to fall into my usual trap of assuming this slight uptick of good or positive news means IMPENDING DOOM elsewhere. Like, there is still a slight risk of nerve damage with the surgery itself, not the potential for full face paralysis that the other doc was saying might happen, she’s not worried about that at all, but she did warn that in like 10-20% of cases with this surgery, there’s a chance of nicking a sensory nerve that means like, ending up with your face numb around the chin and above and around your mouth, where you basically can’t feel much in those areas. Sometimes that lasts for a month or two, and occasionally there are some people who never regain sensation there, but she stressed that its not a huge risk, again only 10-20% of the time, but she did want to make sure I was aware. Course, my cynical ass is like OKAY BUT YOU UNDERESTIMATE HOW MUCH THE UNIVERSE LIKES TO MAKE EVERYTHING IN MY LIFE LINE UP WITH EXTREMELY LONG ODDS AND UNLIKELY POSSIBILITIES, WHY WOULD YOU TEMPT FATE WITH A DIRECT CHALLENGE LIKE THAT, DO YOU HATE ME, DO YOU WANT ME TO DIE????

LOL. Look I’m a Melodramatic Melvin, this is canon. And in the immortal words of Ugh Stiles, I’m almost to the point of no longer being able to ‘milk this anymore’ so I gotta cram my last good angsts in while I still can, y’know? Nah, but srsly, I’m gonna try and not stress about that too much because she said there’s literally nothing I or she can do to minimize that risk, it just is what it is, and the one thing I do know is that my body/brain tends to be highly suggestible and psychosomatism tends to play a huge role in my health and how well or quickly or thoroughly I bounce back from stuff. So. Trying to do the whole positive thoughts, eyes on the prize, Speak Only Good Stuff Into Existence until I’m out the other side. Like, take it for granted that the odds aren’t gonna fuck me this time so I don’t end up accidentally stressing myself into the perfect position for my body to be like Screw You Baby, One More Time.

I mean, we’ll see how well that goes, lol, but you know. Goals.

7 notes · View notes

musicalmukebox · 6 years ago

Text

Let’s Get (Back) Together | l.h. (15)

Ctto of the gifs used!!

AU: Parent Trap Dad!Luke

Summary: A strong love which led to a strong marriage and twin daughters. Yet in the end, it didn’t turn out so well. You strongly refuse to encounter him ever again. But what happens when both of you coincidentally send your twin daughters to the same summer camp in Florida after 10 years?

Word Count: 11k

Warnings: angst, swearing, sweet sweet revenge, verbal and almost physical fighting, mental breakdowns, s e x u a l tension

A/N: Gahhh it’s around 1:40 am here! I enjoyed writing this chapter like wooo! I hope you guys won’t find it too cheesy or underwhelming! First, I wanna thank my parents for giving me the medical terms mentioned here, though I still struggle with capturing some concepts of it haha! And by the way, I found out the Parent Trap film just celebrated its 20th year anniversary since its release a few months ago. Pretty coincidental to say the least! Anyways, enjoy!

I don’t own Parent Trap and its ideas. It’s only used as inspiration.

1 / 2A / 2B / 2C / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15

Feedback/Questions/Others? Here.

2022, Los Angeles

These past weeks, you’ve created a new daily routine. Or rather, your body did.

Wake up suddenly. Race to the bathroom. Vomit your guts out. Go back to sleep. Wake up to get ready for work. Prepare breakfast. Race back to the bathroom. Vomit again. Fully lose your appetite. Take a shower. Get dressed. Drive to the studios or film settings.

It pretty much varies, but this was a close one to each passing day. You ached the rush of your guts boiling up to your throat because it was physically draining and hindering you from current filming projects. Also to your disdain, Luke was on a mini tour at the moment, so you were on your own for this, though it was bound to end soon so a speedy recovery must be in order. But he knew what you were going through due to your nightly (or morning) video calls you do almost every day whenever both of you can.

“Are you sure you’re really okay, (Y/N)? I can ask Eleanor to come over and help.”

“No need! I’m fine, Luke. Just need more rest, that’s all.”

Even though the directors of latter were lenient and kind enough to give you some rest days since they knew how much of a busy woman you’ve become, you still felt bad because it looked as if you haven’t taken care of yourself too well with your condition.

Was it something you ate? Did you exert too much effort to the point your body couldn’t handle it? Are you overworking on these projects? Seriously, did you or Luke cook something that actually expired?

Actually before the nausea, fatigue has hit you faster before you begin working on-set. Thus, sitting out became a norm that quick. Going home after is just exhausting, and crashing on the bed is a lot easier than usual. Not really a bad thing, but you still had to work on your lines and respond to emails. Alongside that, you’ve suddenly gained weight despite the nausea. Your jeans don’t fit like they used to and mostly, you prefer wearing crop tops and sweaters instead of anything tight.

The last straw was today, when you no longer tolerated that insane wave of nausea that hit almost every thirty minutes in the late morning which clashed with the fatigue. Only now were you growing concerned on your health since you figured it firstly to be a stomach virus, but it could possibly more than that. Hence, you needed to get a clear idea of what is happening to you. So today, you excused yourself again to the director of one of the filming shootings for the day due to health reasons, and urgently went to the hospital. Fortunately, he freely allowed you to do so because you had one of the lead roles, and really wanted make sure that everyone was healthy.

By chance, no paparazzi was present in the area, which made it easier to check inside. Seeking guidance from any expert in the lobby as soon as you walked in, a young looking woman in her green scrubs raced to your aid, probably an intern in her twenties who was starstruck by your appearance by the way she beamed when she greeted you.

“Omg hi, Miss (Y/L/N)! How may I help you?”

Although flattered, you bluntly gave her the synopsis of your physical well-being. “Well, something’s odd with my health, like I’ve been easily tired these past weeks, and vomiting hardcore too which makes me lose a lot of sleep. Today took a toll me while at work, so I just want a clear idea of what’s happening because I’m pretty nervous and hoping it’s not serious that it could affect my work ethic.”

Upon talking, she was taking down of everything and it didn’t take too long for her to think of a procedure or solution to assist you. “Oh no! It’s a good thing you’ve come today. I suggest you take a blood test, which you can get the results of next week if that would be okay. Though for nausea, avoid oily foods and eat something bland like pretzels.”

As impatient as you were feeling now due to the tension of what’s happening within you, you trusted her opinion and pushed through with it. “Alright, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good! Now, may I lead you to the institute of pathology? That’s where the laboratory is for blood extraction.”

“Surely, lead the way.”

“And we’re done!” The phlebotomist, or someone who extracts blood from you aka. the patient for testing, exclaims as she ejected the needle from your forearm and untied the tourniquet right above. Internally, you celebrated for facing your long fear of needles for the sake of your health.

“Thanks so much, love. I hope it’s nothing serious.”

“I doubt that it is. You’re practically glowing and fit since you’ve acted and done your own stunts in your films too. Also c’mon, your body is goals!”

Gushing, “Aww, thanks again.” You attempted to stand up from the seat, but it only made you dizzy so you sat back down. You weren’t even in a rush, self. Chill. “Wow, I’m getting dizzy and tired so fast nowadays honestly. This sucks.”

“What else have you been feeling then? – By the way, I’m Claire.” She introduced whilst asking, tucking away your blood sample in a cabinet.

“Nice to meet you, Claire. Hmm well,” You leaned back in the chair to suit your comfort. “I get the most absurd food cravings at weird times yet there is non-stop vomiting late in the morning especially. I gained weight too, where I can’t fit some of my jeans and shorts and wearing tight tops and bras are suffocating. Also whenever I try to go to gym, the fatigue kicks in. Actually, the fatigue is always there, but they get worse like the vomiting.”

“Oh, I see.” Claire, who just sat across from you, listened and put her mind into use of what may have caused this, although the answer was so predictable to her and still wanted to inquire. “Have you been … sexually active recently? I mean, you are married and all to Luke Hemmings!”

You gushed again since you weren’t much to talk about your sex life with him, covering your burning cheeks. But if it’s meant to help you, then by all means go. “Last time we’ve gone at it was around 2-3 months ago, right before he went on a mini tour in the country.”

“Interesting. - When was the last time you’ve got your period?”

Frankly, you weren’t much to check on your menstruation patterns nowadays since you’re too time consumed with your career. Besides, if it’s arrives, you have pads prepared back at home. “I don’t remember. I’ve been so distracted to keep track. Why is that so important?”

“Oh my god, is it that hard to unravel? – Morning sickness, weight gain, weird cravings, over fatigue, late period?” She asked back, cracking an enthusiastic smile. But you shook your head, still not understanding where she’s getting at.

“Though I’m glad you took this blood test to be sure, my motherly instincts are telling me that you, Mrs. (Y/N) Hemmings, are pregnant.”

A week later, and she was right.

You received from the mail the results, which confirmed your suspicions. Since that extraction, you couldn’t stop thinking about it despite everything making much more sense now. All the symptoms were exactly what Eleanor felt when she was still pregnant with Nick, how naïve of you to have not realized sooner!

The need to tell Luke in person as soon as possible is making you impatient, and you were in utter luck that he was coming home tonight already after months.

You were still in contact with Claire, who was ecstatic for you when you told her and hastily recommended you to the best OB-GYN doctor in the hospital named Dr. Katherine Han. Booking an appointment today was challenging at first, but luckily, you got it. Waiting outside her clinic, her secretary kindly invited you in. “Dr. Han is ready to see you, Mrs. Hemmings.”

Dr. Han, or Kate as she fully claimed, scanned through your results happily, recommended the necessary vitamins and insisted you afterwards to make an ultrasound to inspect on your unborn child. “This is pretty exciting, must I say?”

Unquestionably, yes. Maybe, at first, you freaked out because that would mean a lot of adjustments. You and Luke have talked about before about wanting kids later in your marriage, when you’ve toned down from your busy lifestyles. But now, who cares? Your mindset changed drastically, and the idea of carrying a little life inside you was mind-blowing. It was actually happening.

With that idea having you feel thrilled for the next months to come. But the moment you lied down on the examination bed and put up your blouse, there was already a bump, which is unlikely since it’s early in the pregnancy. Regardless, you then felt the wand move below your abdomen with the cold gel, you were breathless of what your eyes witnessed on the screen.

“You see that flickering light? That’s the heartbeat. Let me raise the volume of it.”

Doing as she said, the thumping increased and you felt goosebumps grow in your entire body. There was the little bean in its glory, your little bean.

“Oh wait a minute.” She paused briefly, raising the wand higher to show another flickering light and an echo of sounds. “Looks like you have two healthy heartbeats. – Congrats, Mrs. Hemmings. You’re expecting twins. Would you like a copy of the sonogram?”

Just as you though things couldn’t get any better, you’ll get two little bundles of you. Okay, maybe one mini-you and one mini-Luke. Though if they are both mini-Luke’s, it’s alright too. It’ll be a quite a mess since Luke is practically a man-child. But, who cares?

“Mrs. Hemmings?” Too absorbed in your thoughts, you haven’t answered the doctor’s question.

“Yes please.”

As great and fantastic these news were, you were bound to surprise Luke this when he gets home. It’s been quite a while. Also, you really wanted him to be the first to know before telling anyone else. Since your careers are already over the top, you planned to just keep it simple. Besides, the both of you weren’t much into giving lavish luxury items, well except on special occasions.

But on a normal basis? Nah, you’d like to save some money for the future. Most likely for education. It’s always nice to think ahead.

There were balloons on the walls and some tied down the legs of the side tables, where you were sat by the couch with a small bag of goodies were inside with a mutual meaning. Time is ticking on your watch, and Luke could be home any minute now. He’ll be exhausted since he’ll be coming back from New York. You’ve missed him so much, where neither video not phone calls were not as sufficient as physical contact. Especially the rated R ones!

Well, before you got “sick”.

Your calm body was sprawled on the couch, trying new positions that’ll suit best for your little beans and scrolling up and down possible room decorations to purchase. Oh yes, baby fever is real with you, starting with the nickname of little beans. While at your enjoyable daze, you can hear the fumbling of the door knob from the outside, unlocking it. Struggling to roll down his huge luggages and his dufflebag as his hand carry, he dropped them immediately.

“I’m home!”

For him, all he knew was that his home is wherever you are.

There he was in his glory. His hair was a lot messier as compared to usual, his facial expressions of tiredness from the long trip but still gave a loud greeting that could get a noise complaint from the neighbors.

Again.

“Luke!” You shot up from your seat, catching his attention. Upon hearing, he knew in a snap you were in the living room. He hoped you cooked dinner or something because as much as he did like eating everywhere from hotel rooms and famous restaurants, nothing beats yours. But then again, you’ve been sick so probably not. As long as he gets to see you, he’ll be happy.

Advancing there, he lightened up at the sight of you, as if you were glowing like the sickness never bothered at all. The blue dress you had on with your beaming smile had him fall over heels all over again. Absolutely smitten. Alongside that, another thing that caught his eyes were the few balloons that bordered where you stood. Coming home from tour or a trip has never been new to since your jobs require to, yet little additions like them was blissful. He couldn’t waste anymore time, running to you and lifting you up in a tight hug by the waist.

Gasping at such suddenness, you enveloped your arms around his neck whilst internally praying he doesn’t crush the little beans, even by a bit. He then puts you down not so long after, giving you a lingering kiss on yours. He could care less if he would get sick. Tour is over anyways, and he has a break before going back to business.

God, feeling them just never gets old nor unsatisfying, like they were custom made just for you. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, love. These past months felt way too long.” Dragging the “too”, his interest returned on the balloons. As a symbol of celebration and surprises, something is up. Maybe he was just overreacting, considering this homecoming was a celebration in itself.

As he felt your arms linger away his neck, you brought out the small bag of goodies from the floor, preparing yourself for the reveal. “I came across some items you might like when I was the way home.”

He grew skeptical, but he went along with it. Taking a seat right beside you, he rummaged through them and brought it all out, laying them on the coffee table right in front.

“Hmm,” He begins his close observation. “An orange-flavored Caprisun, animal crackers and Starburst. Well, maybe for you, they were some of your favorite childhood snacks. I only liked the Starburst. – I’m still pretty lost with this.”

Not bad, he got a keyword: childhood.

This next step is the climax, which involved a sealed envelope from your jacket right beside you. It was quite nervewracking at first, but you came this far and nonetheless of his reaction, it wouldn’t affect how you feel towards the beans. “Here. Maybe this can make much more sense.”

He was so confused, but you didn’t blame him. “You’re scaring me, love.”

“Just open it.” You laughed, anticipating for too long and wanting already to see his reaction. Unsealing it felt like a lifetime, also ripping it a bit in the middle. There he saw two folded pieces of paper and took them out. The first was a short note, which he read aloud.

“Hello there! So as of now, we can’t eat and drink those treats so you can have them! Maybe give us around 6-7 months and we’ll steal them from you! We can’t wait to meet you, dad! Love, Little Bean 1 and Little Bean 2.”

Dad.

It took him seconds to sink in the premise of the surprise. Unfolding the last paper, it was the ultrasound from early afternoon, his mouth hanging down from the surprise and racing happiness that he was gaining. There was still a short sentence written on the back side.

“Turns out it wasn’t the flu or a virus. It’s just us adjusting, sorry for hurting mom though.”

From his contagiously, cute smile, he was the exact opposite of what you were overthinking previously. He was at a loss of words as he repeatedly looked back in forth at the goodies and the letters before facing you, having a matching smile and blushing. To add, he got up on his feet to really sink the information further because he was too happy.

“I’m pregnant, Luke.” You blurted, no more holding back.

Luke swore he was breathless for a moment, before lifting you up again and back into his arms you were. “Oh my God, wow. Fuck. – This is the best thing I’ve heard all day!” You were laughing too hard from his reaction, and as he put you down, he was literally filled with so much adoration for you.

“It’s actually happening! Like you’re going to be a mom, I’m going to be a dad, we’ll be parents! And twins?!”

“It’s going to be double trouble but double fun, right?” You reassured, only leading him to pull you closer for a kiss on your forehead.

“Fuck yeah. I hope they have your nose though.” He booped your nose, knowing that it annoys you often. But you let it pass.

“I hope they have your blue eyes, they are gorgeous.” You complimented, grazing a finger on his scruffy face. You were equally appreciating every facial feature of each other, giving more “I hope’s” back and forth and then confidently, you tiptoed to place your lips against him, sharing a much more passionate kiss that can are as equal to the kisses from your consummation.

He was the first to pull back, desiring to place his available hand on your lower abdomen with a grin so pure it can spread world peace. “There’s a little us there, and I’ll make sure to take care of the three of you.” Your hormones were about to get the best of you, but you didn’t let it control you for now.

“God, can we just stay in this moment forever? It’s too amazing.” He pleaded, looking directly in your eyes.

“I really do as well, but if it helps,” You pointed your finger at the fireplace, where a tiny camera was situated. “I recorded the whole thing for us to look past on.”

He couldn’t get any more blessed and grateful for you, scattering your entire face with pecks. “Fuck, I love you so much. I can never picture anyone else having my children except you.”

Your heart was fleeting crazily, but his cursing was all over the place which is now considered unacceptable in this household. “I love you so much too, Luke. – But one, stop swearing around me, or at least minimize it. They can hear you, you know?” He frowned in guilt, but when you laughed out the seriousness, you declared once more.

“Second, you’re the only person I would ever want to have a domestic life with.”

2034, Sydney

It was 4 am, and most of the adults were passed out drunk in their separate bedrooms in the second floor. The house they were lodging currently had 4 stories with a basement. In the third floor, there were designated rooms for the young boys and girls. Stella and Rebecca currently shared a bed and a room with Scarlett and Beatrix. Yet, it was Rebecca to get up first due to the soft alarm she set on her phone. Good thing no one else heard it or else Scarlett would be complaining so much about how precious sleep is.

Shaking her sister gently to wake up, it didn’t take too long before she groggily did, having some of her blonde strands covering her visage and lips. When she blew them off, her eyes crinkled open more from the flashlight Rebecca switched on since Stella was arrogant to move at first. But because now she couldn’t fall back into sleep, she urged her body to get upright and focus on her awoken twin.

“God, this bed was too comfortable like you said.” She stretched her arms, unwrapping her tiny body from the duvet and put on her slippers.

“I told you so! Anyways, we need to grab some things at the kitchen and pantry first.” Rebecca tells, adjusting her sweater and jumps out the bed with her phone. Slowly sneaking out the door without disturbing anyone else, the twins tiptoed their way to the stairs and hurried to the pantry where a huge chunk of their needed materials lied.

Rebecca switched on the light, a mischievous smirk forming in her face as she stepped on the mini ladder so she could reach items that were up in the shelves. Stella watched her, making sure she doesn’t trip or anything, but she also took some items on the lower shelves they knew they would need. When they finished, they gathered their things and laid them down on the kitchen island, arranging and checking them orderly.

“Hair dye?” Stella asked.

“Got it. Honey?” Rebecca picks the item up for showing.

“Check. Balloons?”

“Done.”

As they completed in reviewing their materials, “You ready for this, brat?”

“Fuck yeah. Sierra deserves only the worse.”

“Truly. So Camp War 2.0? Let’s get to work.”

Phase 1.

Luke dazedly woke up to do his morning run around 6 in the morning in hopes to watch the sunset by the cliff that he loves to do alone. He was blessed to not have gotten wasted like Ashton. Tying the shoelaces of his shoes and inserting his airbuds, he was on his way out the house. Sierra was in a peaceful slumber for quite some time – That was until the first alarm from her phone hit piercingly. Groaning, one eyelid was open to stop it. She didn’t recall putting any alarms before getting to bed, but nonetheless, she wanted to claim back her beauty sleep.

But the second alarm then came around not even 10 minutes later, and there she was annoyed. Muttering profanities under her breath, she turned it off and tossed back to her initial sleeping position. Unfortunately, the deafening sound of the alarm messed with her mind, which made her lose the drowsiness. No longer forcing it, she rose from her side of the bed with bad bed head. Disoriented by her “dysfunctional” phone, the first thing she was looking for was her glasses, which is usually by her bed side so she can properly operate. However, it wasn’t there as she rummaged it. Odd again, but she ignored it again since just a few hours, she was drunk off her butt and probably left it someplace else.

With blurry vision, she stumbled her way to the bathroom, discarding her pajamas to take a warm shower. Here, another scheme is set. Putting on shampoo is a normal thing when cleaning yourself, only that when Sierra applies it on her hair, it gradually left her a raging red shade.

It didn’t process to her what was happening until she saw the shower floor filled with red water. At first, she figured that she got her period, but she just got it 2 weeks ago and it’s long ended. Pulling the handle open of the shower, she went nearer to the mirror to see what has took place.

“Fucking shit!” How did this happen? Did she take the wrong shampoo? The smell was right though. Maybe there was a chemical malfunction, and she has to get this fixed as soon she can because God knows how much more damage it can bring. Also, email the company about this.

Rinsing it off with a towel, she changed into cleaner clothes and pretty set for the day, knowing she has a few things on her agenda already. She likes to be productive after all. But first, breakfast. She just needed her phone to do some contacting. When she got ahold of it on her bedside, she received a message.

[6:40 AM] Future Husband: just went out for a run! but i have a surprise for you downstairs in the basement, come check it out x

She loved surprises, where she gets to be spoiled rotten by absolutely anything she wants. And since recently he’s been so distant due to the whole surprise family reunion, she assumed that he felt bad and is making up for it.

[6:50 AM] Sierraaaaa: just showered babe, i’m gonna check it out! love you, hubba!

Meanwhile from the work room, where security cameras were placed in the major rooms like the basement, living room, the small lobby, and patio, Rebecca and Stella were imitating vomiting sounds due to the pet names Sierra gave. “So this is dating works, huh? Just bleh!”

“I suppose so. Good thing I’m too young for that! - Shit, she’s by the staircase already!”

They watched carefully her movements, hoping she doesn’t take any unnecessary detours and giggling at the new hair color on the side. When Sierra reaches the end of the corridor of the first floor, which leads to a another staircase going to the basement, the girls were on the edge of their seats, giddy. There were two open tabs on the desktop computer they were using, one showing Sierra and the other on the basement. The latter was a total and messy obstacle, which was about to be unleashed in less than a minute.

“Fuck, let’s get the actual party started!” Stella exclaimed.

Phase 2.

“Hope you like it, babe. Love, Luke.” Sierra reads the sign on the door, pumped up what lies behind the wooden door. With the suspense it expressed, Sierra couldn’t wait any longer and unlocked the door in front of her.

It was quite dark since the curtains were spread open at the large open doors on her left, so through her eyes, she searched for any light buttons to switch on. Luckily, there was one on her left, but it was pretty far from where she stood, so she moved her body to do so minimally. However, as she did, she actually overpassed a light string that was connected to the light switches. Instead, she slipped on the floor instantly and caught the tacky view of the basement.

First feature: A mixture of honey and maple syrup spread throughout the floor like peanut butter on bread.

She slid so fast throughout the entire interior of the room like an indoor slip-and-slide, hitting the corners and sides of the walls with almost every part of her body. Her mind was spinning, and every time she tried to get back on her feet, the syrup would always make her tumble repeatedly. Unfortunately enough, she had no protective gear on her figure to keep her safe from the friction and bumping the hardness, most especially her head. Yet there was another detail that got her much more drenched.

Second feature: There were numerous balloons surrounded in the entire room that were either filled with air or water.

Whilst sliding, different balloons were popping around her as she hit different spots of the room. When did, she’d pop a few balloons in the process that would either trigger her sensitive ears or wet any parts of her body. This went on many times because she really tried her best to stand up and evacuate this mess. Here, her body was reconnecting also with the discomforting syrup then faced one last detail.

Third Feature: One of the light switches from a while ago was connected to the electric fan above her, which would rain the room with feathers.

Various sizes of feathers would glue to her soaking clothing. She sneezed at every encounter she got with them, meaning that she was continuously sneezing during the entire experience. No part of her body was spared, resulting to looking like a hairy chicken, especially with the red hair!

“Bok bok, bitch.” Rebecca referenced Rachel Cho, satisfied by the ugliness of the maze which got Sierra the deserved treatment. But that so-called maze wasn’t the end just yet.

Phase 3, aka. the total knockout.

Drenched and still slipping numerously, her rage and annoyance levels skyrocketed into inflation. Thus, it resulted into passionate and thunderous screams, almost like someone was being murdered. She wanted to get out of this horrendous room, and back to the bathroom to rinse off. But on top of that, she wanted to fight whoever was in charge of this, and she knew exactly who they were. Who else?

“Absolute brats!”

Since it was impossible to go back to the main door unless she wanted to slip and fall again, she resolved into opening the big, wide doors facing the beach. Carefully taking her time making steps, she pushed them out, relieved that her stay at that maze was over.

Or was it?

Right above where she was drenching and groaning from discomfort, another line of string hung by her eyes with a tiny note with another message. “You think it was over? – P.S. flip over this note.”

She pulled it out strongly, unfolding it effortlessly because she wanted to know more about the minds of the sinister sisters. Little did she know that a bucket of chocolate syrup was stationed right above her, where a friendly creature was swimming in it, or possibly drowning.

“You mess with our parents, you mess with us. Also, look up. – R & S”

Right on cue, she tilted her head upwards and low and behold, the sticky substance splattered all over her entire body, coating the water and honey from earlier. It was almost Carrie 2.0, except there was no huge audience except the twins, who were busy rejoicing for their success. It came upon them of how smart they work together than against each other like in camp, gladly knowing that they have a valid reason to act so. Besides, they are young and bright, they have to hone their growing potentials.

Sierra remained still and quiet, trying to regain her composure because she will not let the brats win over. It took her years to get to where she is, and she will strike back because losing to them is basically like losing to you. However, that idea was scratched off as soon she felt something crawl above her dyed hair. She was disturbed at the foreign sensation, reaching over it to get a touch of what it is. When she did, it continued to brisk off and by the rough skin and long tail, it was a lizard. And she screamed bloody murder when the lizard slid down to her face, even went to her mouth! Spitting it out along other saliva that was contaminated, she attained her breaking point, finally fed up and throwing numerous tantrums like the spoiled woman she is.

“Wait, where again did you find the creepy crawly, Stella?” Rebecca asks, watching Sierra and enjoying herself at her rage.

“When I was placing the bucket by the ledge of the patio. He was crawling everywhere, but I figured he’d be important.”

Just in time with her screams, Luke just arrived back at the house from his morning jog. Removing his airbuds, he could easily determine the voice and raced to where it was occurring. But when he got to the living room so he could get to the patio and see the commotion, he was beaten to it when a soaked Sierra stormed inside with a frustrated look on her face. She pushed away any object within her vicinity and kicked some chairs too, beyond pissed. It wasn’t too long when the other boys and their families were disrupted from their rest and came running down the stairs, seeking answers towards the unexpected fuss. Just like Luke, they thought that she looked like an absolute, hot mess, psyched and intrigued by who could’ve pulled off such an accident.

“Wha-What the fuck happened, babe?” It was all he can come up with at the spur of the moment, his focus more on her newly dyed hair that just didn’t suit her with the chocolate syrup dripping on the wooden floor.

All this pent frustration and the newly added one began to overtake her mind and mouth. She was officially done. When she took a few steps closer to him, “Here's what's going on, buddy, your twins happened! The day we say “I do" is the day I ship those brats off to Switzerland or maybe give them fully to (Y/N). Get the picture? It's me or them. Take your pick.”

Right after she spits her fire, muffled voices blasted from the speakers in that room. Those speakers can be activated a few ways, commonly through Bluetooth or the aux cord from the work room. Rapidly, the device boosted in volume, giving a clearer hearing of what was being voiced out.

It was none other than last night’s convo between Sierra and Arzaylea.

The two and everyone else paused themselves momentarily to take a listen, and in the end were they stopped dead on their tracks by the intensity and ruthlessness of the situation. Though humiliation additionally crashed on Sierra because she was the main involving party.

Oh, poor Luke. The big secret behind his psychotic fiancée was uncovered and served like a slap on the face. Somehow, everything these past years made much more sense. That honestly pep talk she gave yesterday was pure bull. Everything about her was an ongoing façade.

Once the audio reached its end, the twins publicly made their entrance from the work room, giving off their petty and naughty smirks to their main target. So far, so very good.

“Woah, good morning everyone.” Rebecca greeted innocently.

“What’s for breakfast?” Stella continued on casually.

But Luke wasn’t having it, too frazzled by the situation within the room and couldn’t even look at Sierra when she tried to capture his attention numerously during that audio play. “Alright girls, quit playing. What is going on?”

No more sweet talk, just get down to the business.

“Wasn’t the audio enough, dad? Aunt Sierra over here is a lie.” Stella claimed strongly, pointing at the messy woman.

“Dad, please don’t be associated with her anymore. She’s been manipulative before we were even born!” Rebecca defended further, which finally gave Sierra the balls to speak up for herself.

“That audio you gave could’ve been self-made! What other allegations can you give?” She tested, trying to redefine her name. Aish, wrong move. Rebecca was actually bundling up pieces of paper in her arms, and once she opened them up, “Do screenshots of conversations between you, TMZ, Perez Hilton, US weekly and many more tabloid platforms count? Also saw money and private information were involved too.”

“By the way, aunt Sierra, be careful for your surroundings before running your mouth and opening your devices. This house isn’t as big as you think it is.”

First passing it to Luke for his viewing before giving them to Michael, and just by the tired look he had post-work out he begun with, he grew mentally disheartened by the accuracy of his twins’ accusations about his fiancée. Though mischievous, they weren’t wrong at all.

“Ooh, got an extra audio file that can count as evidence if you don’t mind.” Stella added, excusing herself to return to the work room and play the file of Sierra’ conversation at the Forum. The strong persona of Sierra turned weak again when the papers were handed to different people and that extra audio blasted. Her exposure was forceful, and she had nothing else to say or do to deny them especially since the twins were stating facts.

Luke just listened to Sierra’s hurtful words, in disbelief that she was capable to do this all behind his back for the past decade. He was frozen at his standing position, wanting this to all be from the crazy part of his imagination. But once he was fixated with Sierra’s when he almost spaced out, he looked away quickly at disappointment. Sierra saw that short glimpse, still immersed on his facial features that drooped down. “L-Luke, please let me ex-”

Luke cut her off, putting his hand near her face so she would stop blabbering. “So this whole time, you wrecked our marriage?”

“Wait, ple-”

Luke kept going with his questioning. “You’ve planned this whole thing out vividly so that you and I would be the endgame?”

“Luke, st-”

“This meant having to ruin the lives of (Y/N), Becks and Stella?!”

Silenced and interrupted repetitively, Sierra couldn’t contain the concoction of the variety of emotions boiling up in her system. All these years she’s bottled them up has made her insane, insane to do absolutely anything for this particular man that has once helped her genuinely in the past. But in the end, she doomed herself to unsuccessfulness and obsession. All eyes were on her now, and she really is trying to compose and defend herself in her own words despite either way, she was going to lose. But those smirks of the twins which exactly resemble yours ticked her off completely.

“All of the actions I’ve done were out of 18 years of loving you, Luke! I was always there for you, way before (Y/N) came in the picture. Your breakup with Arzaylea? I was there. When people criticized the band’s hiatus and music post-Sounds Good, Feels Good and you needed moral support? I was also there. Every drinking session you wanted and invited me to out of celebration or sadness in your old home? I was fucking there! How did you not see that? We had something going on, but it was so effortlessly destroyed when she kissed you in that Valentine music video! Since then, I never liked her because I just knew she lured you in and used you so she could be famous. I just couldn’t allow that to happen, so I had to do what was best for you. Besides, if she trusted you, she could’ve told you the real behind the scenes of our relationship and we would’ve not been friends anymore. Gosh, secrecy! But I knew how to use my words so she wouldn’t bother to tell you anything. So yeah, the bitch does not deserve you, Luke. And those brats you call daughters are just as sneaky as she is!”

There it is.

The unsaid has finally dropped, which may have brought embarrassment because Sierra didn’t hold back nor had any filter to fix her words if she was to be misread. The rawness of it was a bombshell since no one ever expected it, even you if you were present. Luke felt as if he was stabbed in the gut mercilessly, not wanting to acknowledge her. Her so-called assumptions on what she thought was good for him was beyond ill-advised. Now one thing is guaranteed: she was the biggest factor to the destruction of your marriage.

“And you think you’re deserving?! Since when were you knowledgeable to know what was good for me?! I understand that you were trying to look out for me behind the scenes, but to hurt people in the process is different!!” His voice was on full blast, startling everyone and putting them on the edge as the rising drama climaxed. Sierra buried her face in her hands, put on the spot to reply back, but either way, it was a lose-lose situation. Luke’s fists balled up and hit the first thing he saw, which was a box of Lucky Charms.

“All the controversies you’ve had, I’ve looked past them because you’re a genuine and talented girl. Turns out you’ve fooled us all. Honesty is the best policy you also said yesterday, bullshit!” No one expected him to swear, making the boys and their wives cover some of their kids’ ears.

Sierra grabbed him by the arm to make him look at her. “I still am that girl, Luke. Let’s sort this out, please.”

“You never were.” Luke swat her hand away, but still turned around with a face as red as a tomato. A mix of post-workout exhaustion and frustration. “You know, (Y/N) had her own hustle, having to balance university while looking for job opportunities. Meeting her was a coincidence gone right. I thought I could fix you and your controversies, help make you become greater than that. Yet, it but turns out that you can only fix yourself, and you failed badly.”

Sierra needed to speak, she had to. Regardless of the risks. “Wow, now you’re defending your ex-wife? Last time I checked, you no longer wanted to be associated with her because she broke it off and hurt you so bad!”

Although truth was spilled, Luke began to pick up on her words and tried to piece them together with past events. Then, he realizes how some connect to each other. “She broke it off because the rumors you’ve paid to get done was a bad environment for our family then and we began to lose trust in each other. But you know what the worst thing was that occurred in that kind of setting?”

“What?” She had the nerve to cross her arms in a cocky manner.

Luke’s walls were near to breaking, but he didn’t want to leave the fight losing. “Because of the divorce, it led to half custody, meaning my twins, or “brats” as you said were robbed of a happy and full family. All thanks to you.”

To top off the cherry on top, Luke stepped a little closer to Sierra and ordered, “Leave.”

“Excuse me?” She sneered, putting a hand on her chest.

“L-E-A-V-E, Sierra. Get the picture?” Luke hissed. “You are a love-blinded psycho. By the way you said my twins are sneaky is saying that I am too because they are half of me! With this leave you’ll take is a leave from my life for good. I don’t know about the rest of everyone here, but I have lost all interest to be involved with you. So do leave the ring too, then bring all your stuff and never ever show yourself to me. You have done enough.”

His rage reached its peak, still not moving one bit. As much as they were aware that they’ve succeeded, the twins did not apprehend that their father would be severely affected in the process. All they wanted to do was prove a point and hence, they did get their justice. But for him to become sadder too wasn’t in their truest intention. They were too blinded and motivated in getting the both of you together by doing their war that they didn’t think through of the consequences.

“Luke, I-”

“Did I fucking stutter, Sierra? Leave!”

Sierra threw a hissy fit at the treatment she finally deserved, and angrily walks out of the living room. Luke remained unmoved, but warm tears swelled down his cheeks. He didn’t bother to rub them off, and as vulnerable as he is already, he tried to stay strong and hold it in.

“Luke,” Calum bravely took initiative to comfort his friend, only for Luke to finally move backwards away from his friend from this anxiety that overfilled his entire being.

“Don’t touch me, just stay away from me. Please!” He skipped to the workroom and locked himself inside, where he was left with himself to completely crash down and bawl out his pushed back emotions.

That reluctance to recognize them? Gone.

Emotional walls? Vanished.

He whimpered loudly, punching the different pillows in the couch along with knick-knacks on the desks. Pain was prevalent everywhere. Though his fists were bruised, his heart was deeply affected because he relied on his mind to give the practical solutions. Not entirely wrong, but with complete disregard of his heart meant disregarding his feelings, bottling them up for too long.

It was too difficult to make things seem normal in the household now.

Calum and Michael really did their best to change the atmosphere of the entire room by preparing breakfast, cracking eggs and bringing out the pancake mixes. Crystal needed to walk out to the patio to get fresh air away from the stuffiness. Ashton and Bryana were trying to think of easy ways on how to answer the questions from their children about Sierra since it wasn’t something they’ve ever seen before. Eleanor wasn’t too behind to follow Sierra’s steps, but not too near for the latter to see her. Arriving at her door and leaning against, she watches the ex-fiancée angrily throw different items in her dufflebag, observing how much she wanted to leave this situation.

“I’ve always had strong feelings you were still as controversial back in the day.”

She sensed a sneaky smirk from the brunette, who zipped up her packed bag and put the strap on her shoulder. Back on her feet, she came closer to Eleanor with that exact cocky expression. “You should’ve stopped me then, but you didn’t.”

As she tried to get on her way, Eleanor blocked her way, not letting her get off the hook that easily. “That was because I believed you could’ve grown better, but you chose to be a lot worse. Trashy even.”

“Ugh, harsh. But you may have forgotten that I am a girl who is passionate, who’ll do whatever it takes to get what and who I want in life. Luke isn’t something I could swipe left, babe.”

“Have you no pity or a heart?! You destroyed the well-beings of two of the most kind-hearted people, even got their children involved! - I’m so glad you were exposed. The bitch as you’ve described my best friend? Her intellect and determination were traits passed on the twins. With you, all you could ever give is your body and manipulation.”

Sierra’s jaw clicked, her free hand preparing to slap Eleanor, but she beat her it. Gripping her wrist tight that it could leave a mark, “Smart and nice way to accept loss, babe. Also by the way, I see something that doesn’t belong to you anymore.”

Referring to the diamond engagement ring, Eleanor removed her grip to the hand and watches with keen sight on Sierra sliding off the metal band. Once it was off, she effortlessly handed it to her new enemy, leading to Eleanor unblocking her. She didn’t wear her smirk anymore and scrambled down the stairs and to the garage, where a vacant, extra car awaits.

She was finally defeated.

Meanwhile, the twins managed to discreetly vacate from the living room and back to the basement, only this time, they’ve brought garbage bags and every cleaning material they could find in the pantry. Stella harshly scrubbed first the sticky floor from one row to another, whilst Rebecca disposed every popped balloon remains in the bag, shaking off any syrup stuck in it. Their progress was quite slow because some of the sticky area hardened, making them exert double energy which is more than what their bodies are capable of. Taking breaks in between increased, thinking how impossible it will be to accomplish this the entire day.

Not even halfway, a loud knock was made on the main door, the one from inside the house. “Come in!” Rebecca called out. The knob turned to its right and clicked open, which revealed the older kids, carrying spare cleaning materials and wearing similar frowns.

Stella stopped her actions. “What are you guys doing here?”

Beatrix put down her bucket and mop, entering inside the dirty room followed by the others. “I’m assuming you guys need some help after all that craziness you pulled off with Aunt Sierra.”

“But haven’t we been a burden enough to you all? This trip so far has been horrendous, at least we need to fix our mess down here.” Rebecca fired back, embarrassed to even look at them. Unexpectedly, Oliver advanced to her with his apron getup and declared, “To be honest, Rebecca, if any of us discovered the hidden intentions of a vicious woman like aunt Sierra on our parents, we would do absolutely everything to make sure that the bitch doesn’t walk free.”

“Also your strategy was crazy good, it serves her right!” Nick justified proudly. As much as it gave a short dose of hope and enlightenment to the twins, knowing their friends got their backs, they couldn’t help still feel guilty on bringing upon more emotional instability to their father.

“Thanks for the support, guys. Still though, we made our dad a lot more broken, and we can’t forgive ourselves for that.” Stella opens up, having trouble to maintain eye contact on anybody because of the shame. She may have blinked back tears because she isn’t one to show her vulnerability, another evident trait she got from her father. Less to her knowledge, Alex came to her aid with tissue paper on standby.

She was baffled, putting it away. “Thanks but no thanks, Alex. I’m fine.”

“You aren’t, Stella.”

He was right, and at the same time, one tear from Stella streamed down and he was the one to wipe them off with his thumb. Caressing her cheek, “It’s okay to be vulnerable, Stella.” He gave a hopeful grin, which was easily reciprocated with a tight hug. “T-Thank you, Alex.”

While they had their moment, the other kids were also silently cleaning those spots that the twins haven’t reached and faced the same struggles with the syrup. But now they was a lot more of them, the job was more time and energy-efficient. With that, the whole basement became spotless in another hour. Sharing jokes and another round of funny stories in between made the experience a lot less tense.

Now on their way to return to the ground room with their sweaty figures and full garbage bags, which they first leave by the front door, they were taken aback by all their parents, Luke included with red eyes from all the crying, explicitly arguing post-Sierra excluding Eleanor, who was sat in the couch really trying to get stressed due to the baby. This hindered them to go inside and stay behind the wall near the open entrance. Crystal was right behind Michael, who sided with Ashton. “Luke, you need to tell (Y/N) this.”

“I agree. What happened to no more secrecy?”

Calum joined in, giving a piece of his mind. “Mate, if you want things to work out between you two, you have to be honest. You lost her once, don’t do it again.”

Bryana had the last say. “And if you do so, she’ll give in and likely to share her perspective on why she didn’t tell you about her real relationship with Sierra.”

The anxiety within Luke couldn’t stop raising, not being able to think straight of what the right action is. He thought it was just Sierra keeping secrets, but you did too. Though knowing you all these years, whatever you choose to do and achieve in life always has a good reason behind it. It was thoughtful, yet a secret is a secret, which jeopardizes the trust of the relationship.

“I cannot lose her again, guys. When I tell her that I know, she’ll run away! That means Stella will go along too.”

“But Luke, isn’t the lack of trust the main reason you’ve ended it?” Eleanor caved in from the couch, offended at his defense because it led to her losing all contact with you, her best friend. Running away from Luke meant running away from everyone else.

Lifting herself up, her hands putting more pressure on her lower back to support her growing belly, she approached towards the lanky man. No pregnancy hormones caused her growing rage. “I have had it up to here with you. Not only did that factor caused you to lose the love of your life, but it caused everyone here to lose a friend and our kids to lose a great aunt. Fuck, (Y/N) was my best friend, whom I haven’t heard in over a decade! But mostly, your kids lost half of their parents. If that doesn’t disturb you enough, I have no idea what else will.”

As they eavesdropped, the kids couldn’t help feel the goosebumps up their arms by the hurt and may have gasped a little too vocally. The adults overheard it, sensing that their children kept an ear out for their mature conversation and becoming tenser since it’s like their happy, cheerful innocence was gone in a snap.

“Kids,” Ashton croaked, put his palm on his forehead to relieve the headache he’s bound to receive not so far from now. “We know you’re there. – Please do enter.”

As much as they didn’t want to, disobeying their rules would be a lot worse. One by one they’ve joined inside the crowd with their heads down because they were scared shitless, especially the twins who brought this to everyone. The sense of shame still stayed, aware that they could’ve approached it much more maturely.

“How much have you guys heard?” Bryana questioned, her heart weakens mostly at her kids with their doe eyes overfilled with fright.

“Enough to know that uncle Luke won’t tell anything that happened awhile ago to aunt (Y/N).” Scarlett replies on behalf, being the eldest after all.

Luke knew how energetic his niece was, but the softness of her voice made him feeble because he’s unintentionally brought back the decade old damage and it was just unacceptable for him to bring her and the other children down with him. He needs to get and give space, praying to the heavens that those kids would not have this piece of information get stuck in their heads for too long. It was just too soon for them to face this sort of reality. However, it was the twins’ reality, and it beats him up everyday. He should’ve done better.

Bringing back the need of space, he needs it starting right now.

“Rebecca Audrey Hemmings, Stella Charlotte (Y/L/N).” He directed his entire focus on the girls, who instantly elevated up their faces to his voice. “Pack your things, now.”

His tone was very serious, and very unlike him. But with all this pressure, it has took a toll on him. Not wanting any more trouble, they scurried their way out and to the stairs, trying not to slip from Sierra’s mess and make anymore delays.

Ashton, on the other hand, did not enjoy the way he instructed his kids despite his personal pressure. He negotiates, “Luke, don’t bring them into this. They are already as afraid as you are.”

“Are you their father, Ash? I just need s-space. So excuse us, but we’ll be on our way.” He bumped against the older man on the way out of the living room that became ironic because it now suffocates him in all aspects.

“Let me repeat what I said. – No one will speak of this morning to (Y/N).”

“Oh my, back so soon?”

Luke roughly dropped off his dufflebag, rethinking of the words he’s planning to say. The trip back home was intense and filled with deadly silence. The twins were too startled to make a sound since hwas already developed much more sensitivity with his environment. Fragile almost, so they resorted to talking through texts.

“Oh, we got an emergency meeting tomorrow, so we had to cancel. We’ll move it to next weekend, maybe you can join us this time?”

Fuck, you really wanted to go this time. But life as an actress isn’t always filled with vacations even if you go abroad a lot. By next week, you’ll be back in Los Angeles working. Just last night before heading to sleep, you received a long distance call from one of the producers of an action film where they’ve accepted you to play the main antagonist. This meant that the first meeting will be in a few days time, cutting off your stay.

“I would love to, but it’s just that,” Your hands clasped together.

“That?” Luke picked up. Your twins beside him were listening attentively, curious.

Heavily sighing, “I got a meeting with a producer this weekend, meaning I need to head back in a few days.” Your view then switched to Stella. “This also means you have to come back with me.”

As expected, she was quick to retort. “No! I don’t want to leave dad and Becks, not again.”

Rebecca was on the same plane with her. “I agree! Dad, do something please!”

Undoubtedly, he wanted to beg you to stay longer after everything, but work is work. A mantra you and he have followed ever since, and especially now as parents, it must be strictly applied if you want things between you to succeed. His mind has again overpowered his heart.

“Girls, I respect your mother’s priority of work, so since she has important work she needs to attend to, what she says goes.”

Half that statement he didn’t agree to, which was that if you left, there’s more deprivation of bonding time with Stella. He needed to catch up on everything she’s done, and Rebecca still needs to know her more.

Another thing with you leaving you again is that he can’t mend things as properly as he desired to. He’s afraid to lose you again.

But it isn’t like you weren’t feeling the same way. You’ve missed Rebecca, wherein there was never missed a day to think about her. You could’ve reached out, but you never did.

Then for Luke. Oh, Luke.

Although work is an important aspect, it was another factor that deteriorated your marriage. With fame comes time consuming plans and activities that would limit your family time, especially since you both reside on opposite sides of the world. You can’t stay away from them for too long again.

Then again, work is work. The girls grew cranky over it, like all their hard work was for nothing.

“I though you were on our side, dad.”

“I lost Stella and mom once, dad. Who knows when we’ll see each other again?”

On that note, they spontaneously left the scene of the discussion, going up the stairs with frowns and heavy hearts. You felt your heart drop too by their disappointment, investing your sight now on Luke, whom by the crooked grin he gave off, reciprocated the feeling.

“Fuck,” You groaned, returning to sit down at the couch and burying your face in your hands. “I’ve already failed this family.”

Luke took upon himself to comfort you at your saddened state, putting aside him personal misery and sat right next to you, rubbing your back up and down. “They’ll come around eventually, they are 11 years old. And come on, hasn’t work always been a huge priority for us, love?”

Love. He’s said it a few times throughout this trip, but now, it felt much stranger. You might’ve felt electrified it, but regardless. It’s just a title, right?

“It was when we were still married.”

“But it’s more important now because we have the twins.” He affirmed. He had a point, and from where you stand when everything is crumbling down, you would accept any useful advice to help you.

“You know what, you’re right. They must already understand how hard it can be to balance work and family. They are still equally important, but this job, I cannot simply turn it down because I’m meeting with other great actors. I can’t be disrespectful.”

“Well, there you go!” Luke praised, gladly patting your shoulder with your realization. “Why are you still so glum, love?”

There he goes again, and somehow you could feel much more comfortable around him to express more. His eyes were gleaming with concern, anticipating to listen.

He’s always been a really good listener. He didn’t brush his hair that much either, but it still looks good on him. Curly hair has always suited him. Distinctly, he bit his lip whenever he is sad to see others feeling down because he always wanted everyone to be okay, and here he did. Though another reason he would bite his lip is he was turned on.

Luke hated seeing you like this, quietly mourning over being a failure so early in the restarting process of familyhood. It still haunts him that the both of you took one twin away, and now that they found each other, it forced you to talk and straighten things out in a flash. But you’re both still pained by the past, and it isn’t easy to simply open up to each other, especially now when you have different significant others. Well, Luke had. Though he knows Timmy has a high dislike for him, he’s there for the sake of his daughters.

But with you, there is one thing he cannot stop thinking about: your happiness. If Timmy can make you happy in better ways, then so be it. After all, it’s all parental right. But he wouldn’t be lying if he didn’t find you beautiful during the premiere or gorgeous by the way your spectacles drooped to your nose when you were reading awhile ago. Not only that, he found it cute to find you focused on the book, the way your brows knitted when a certain chapter irritated you.

Wait, what was he thinking?

But hey, what were you thinking too?

Snap out of it!

“(Y/N), you okay? You haven’t answered my question.” He shook his hand in front of your face while you were spacing out, and staring at him too.

“I preferred love more than my name.”

“Oh sorry there. - I’m pretty bummed because I don’t want to mess things up again. I can’t lose Becks and you again for good.” You worried, not realizing how you were leaning closer to him. He took you by the wrists, clasping them together between his large hands.

“You won’t, (Y/N). As much as I fear the same, there is no fucking way I’ll let it happen. We can work this out.” He promises, hoping for the best in the future. With wisdom comes intimacy, which is followed by the close proximity of your faces.

Specifically both your lips.

You could’ve sworn he brought himself closer first, but habitually, you returned the gesture. Maybe some old habits don’t die too easily.

His blue orbs were as beautiful as you’ve looked into them deeper, diving into his spell that you can’t resist like previously. He barely had any wrinkles on his face, though his eyebags got darker and his scruff is bushier. You could think of other things to describe his gorgeous physique.

The way you licked your lips, which is a sign of you being nervous or contemplating different choices in your head, got him wrapped around your finger. The short-lived grin you gave to show him that you accept his help was too precious, almost like he was falling for you all over again.

There was strong tension building up, but your self control was working stronger. Gaining personal respect towards each other these past weeks has led to respect towards your life decisions. There was no way either of you could blow this up. Nonetheless, you freely picture yourself wrapping your arm around his neck to pull nearer to get a taste of him. Just once and that’s it.

Your mind is always the dominating party, why don’t you let your heart take charge for once? Besides, did you really mean by what you say, that it’s all parental? The white shirt that grew transparent from his sweat showcases his fit abdomen and his long neck was clean. Too clean.

You accidentally caught a glimpse of his tightened crotch on his chino shorts, the length of his member visibly seen on the side. If only you could give it a - okay self, what the actual.

Luke was too tempted to swoop under your waist and on to his lap where he let you straddle his waist with your legs. He can imagine you tugging on his locks and peppering his neck with short kisses, maybe sucking on his weak spot more deeply and roughly.

Shit, you were only wearing sleeping shorts, flowy and only up to your butt. If he just slide in his digits up inside your - fuck, stop right there! He jerked back first, trying to calm his dirty thoughts because he is no longer obliged to think that way anymore. You in the other hand moved away as well, rethinking on how stupid you were to do that.

“Stop, self. Let him go. He has Sierra as his bride now.”

“No, Luke. You blew your chance, and she’s already happy with Timothée.”

Left with your withering realizations, a ding sound echoed the area, alleviating the massive awkwardness that developed. Instantly checking who it belongs to, it was yours.

[12:35 PM] Timmy Tim: Can we please talk?

Scoffing lightly, he still had the nerve to reach out to a wound that is still so fresh and stinging.

[12:38 PM] (Y/N) angel: Why? “I drunkenly cheated” isn’t big enough?

“Who is it, (Y/N)?” Luke shouted from behind, hearing the clashing of a few pans accidentally which made you giggle because he’s always been clumsy. At the same time, your phone dinged again.

[12:40 PM] Timmy Tim: Please (Y/N). I’m so sorry.

“Oh, just the same producer. - And oi, be careful! We don’t wanna to nearly burn the house down like before!”

“I’ll try!”

Rolling your eyes because the short banter brought you back to the old days, he actually bought the half lie. As terrible as at is, you didn’t want to bring him to your personal relationship issues. The less people, the better. You try to distract yourself by rereading some of the chapter you were stuck at to get a better understanding of the plot, yet your mind kept on reflecting on Timmy. By his texts, you can vibe his sincerity although it was you who was the victim.

Ignorance from you is improbable since you preferred facing your dilemmas head on, and you couldn’t become a lie of your own words. Though there is pain, ignoring it prolongs it. It’s closure or nothing. Snatching your phone from the coffee table, you typed out your frustration. Only mildly, you call the time to express when you see him next.

[12:55 PM] (Y/N) angel: Fine. Noon, the Café Sweetener near your hotel. Oh, and I’m sorry too, that I was too dense to not have realized sooner.

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lokikingofasgardslover713 · 6 years ago

Text

Malefic & Help: 2

Masterlist

Malefic & Help Masterlist

Loki Laufeyson x Female Plus Size Reader x Valkyrie/Brunhilde

Warnings: Rape, Non-con, dub-con, Dark fic.

Frail One

Warnings: Pain

Summary: Does it get better or worse for the reader? You know me, it gets worse. But she gets some tender moments and find out how much Loki and Brunnhilde care for her.

A/N: I am going to pick up after the escape from Sakaar and after Thanos has boarded the vessel, you know the sad part. This is after the snap, but I honestly haven’t made up mind whether or not everyone has been brought back to life so to say.

Words: +3,200

How was this an easier existence? It hurt now, the ship torn to shreds, body aching under the foot of one of the attacking aliens. That’s what it was wasn’t it? She had put up a good fight, was able to save numerous others at the expense of her body as a sharp blade was held to her chest. She knew it could easily penetrate the armor she wore, Y/E/C orbs flickering with defiance as the pointy eared alien glared at her from his hood. The damned thing noting the rune necklace to reach down to tare it free before beginning to drive the blade into her chest, uttering it was an honor to die at his hands.

Or that was until a dagger hit him in the shoulder, giving her the opportunity to kick out from under the alien. Scrambling to her feet, hand reached out to Brunnhilde who had come back for her, but a harsh stab to her lower spine had her legs buckling. Y/N’s shaking hand reaching back to grab the blade, ripping it free and slamming it back into the aliens shoulder to make him loose focus.

It was enough time for the Valkyrie to drag her to the ship that waited. Body going into shock as it appeared she had lost all control of her legs, ones that hung lifeless and losing consciousness the instant she was laid to the floor of the Sakaraaian vessel.

Delirium would be the best to describe what this was, her body was healing all be it slow, laid onto a bed to be fretted over every time she opened her eyes. The room in dim light feeling as if she was dying when she woke enough to comprehend what had happened, screaming out to the room to have Brunnhilde at her side. The bronze warrior kneeling on the mattress, trying to calm her, to reassure it was fine. Brunnhilde leaning to lay her head to Y/N’s clammy one, hand carding through sweat drenched locks as she talked her down from the flood of pain that was her body trying to heal itself.

Honestly, Y/N was surprised she cared this much for her, to be this gentle. This wasn’t the Valkyries nature, though she still remembered little of her time on Asgard, Y/N knew that this wasn’t it. The true Brunnhilde was gruff, military like, but here the Valkyrie was calming her from a delirium of pain.

Y/N attempting to move her legs only to cry out again. This time there was a commotion to her right, form shivering with pain as she looked to the noise, obvious it was a surprise for the Valkyrie as well. Brunnhilde on her feet and blocking the view in favor of protecting Y/N.

“Where the Hel have you been,” Brunhilde snarled out at someone the feverish woman couldn’t see as another pain ripped through her. Sweat drenched body seizing for an instant, the bed sinking on her right as it did on her left. A loud scream tearing from her chest as the one on her right rolled her carefully to assess the wound before being laid back. Pain hazed mind focusing enough to look up into tear filled emerald orbs.

“Loki,” her voice shook, jittering hand stretching out to touch over his cheek, reassuring he was really there. The god not hesitating to lean down to carefully kiss trembling lips, feeling her breath shuttering.

“You will be OK love. It's just healing slowly. I can’t do anything for you,” he spoke calmly, his hand now on her cheek, cherishing the soft flesh as he laid his forehead to hers.

Y/N feeling a hand slip into the one on her left. It was Brunnhilde’s, how could she mistake the hand that had been slipping into hers every chance it got, especially late in the evenings or what felt like it was late. The Valkyrie kept the curtains pulled wherever they were, Y/N had yet to understand what realm or planet they had landed on, body to shattered to comprehend nothing more than agony.

A slight shuffle of her own lifeless feet had her crying out again, she yearned so badly to move them because they ached but couldn’t. It felt like a losing battle as the god that hovered over her cooed to her to be still. A warm body pressing to her left telling her the Valkyrie had taken a seat to watch over her for the night, like she had been doing the past 2 weeks.

Feeling Loki’s head move from hers, delirious eyes opening to look up, noting the god nod to Brunnhilde, throbbing head preventing her from hearing much. Though by the way Brunnhilde shuffled around gingerly told her the warrior was laying next to her to rest, that meant Loki was taking the first watch over her.

“I'm right here dove. I want leave your side,” he echoed, settling gingerly next to her. Delicately Loki laid a hand on her injured side, the pain easing to a tolerable level. Y/E/C orbs looking up into emerald ones to realize he was taking some of the pain on himself to spare her suffering.

Tentatively the god settled next to her, pulling the cover over her scantily clad body. Y/N having only slept in cotton panties and halter top bra to keep some decency, especially when she had to be limped to the bathroom. These trips always ended in her passing out from the pain alone. The pain easing enough from her to shift aching legs to feel comfortable, the bronze warrior wrapped around her left arm, breath fanning over her bicep as it was evident she was exhausted.

“Loki,” Y/N whispered, almost so quietly he didn’t hear, the god still sitting up and looking her shattered body over.

“Yes lover,” he echoed, looking over the Valkyrie that slept protectively next to them, hand wrapped in Y/N’s. Looks like he had competition, but it seemed Y/N favored them both, meeting her gaze to acknowledge her.

“I remembered,” she breathed out in a sigh, Loki cocking his head at what this could mean. The god had worked to help her remember their entire time on Sakaar, it seemed it was only fitting this type of trauma would bring a memory back. “We were to be wed,” her voice shook.

“Aye lover. We were,” Loki smiled, feeling her body grow weak, eyes fluttering shut, he knew she was tired, it was taking her body all it had to heal the shattered spine. “Rest, we will talk more about this when you're not in pain,” Loki reassured as her eyes fluttered shut in exhaustion, feeling her relax, hoping he had helped as he began to drift himself, despite the pain.

This time, as she woke the pain was a dull ache. A careful shuffle of her legs confirming it, but still there was a stabbing pain that shot up to the healed wound from the tips of her toes. Thankfully this just caused her a mild grunt of discomfort, in shock no one was rushing around her to make sure she was OK. Chancing a look around, and thankfully this caused no pain. For once able to take in the entirety of the room.

Her eyes fell to the open curtains first, she could finally see out of the hole she had been kept in. The view from where she was on the bed told her they had to be in a city, and from what she could tell it had to be Midgard. Though, the only way she would know is if she was told so. Not having visited the realm in centuries, but it did look and sound like what she had been told of the place by Loki.

Hmm, Loki. Yeah, come to think of it she was pissed at the bastard for the Tesseract.

Eyes sweeping the room as she remained on her back, propped up by the pillows. There was a small fireplace at the foot of the bed. The room was massive, and this looked to only be the bedroom. There were several plush armchairs near the window that it finally registered as taking up the entirety of one wall. No wonder Brunnhilde kept it closed, it would had made the pain worse just from being blinded by the light.

Loki. Her mind returned again to the truth, the actual truth they had been told of Thanos and why he was coming for them. A lump rising in her throat that her Loki had fallen in with such a creature. No, it wasn’t his fault. He had been trying to survive, just like she had on Sakaar. Just surviving had its price and it was always one that demanded a life or more.

Shaking her head of the thoughts, she decided to think of now. Well, the past few weeks of recovery and the visitors. From what she gathered when she was awake enough to focus, it had been almost 2 months. They had been others who had visited her to help she guessed, the last visitor she remembered was a young girl, chocolate brown skin, a truly beautiful individual with a kind heart.

The young girl had suggested a procedure, but all she recalled was being lifted into Loki’s arms and that was it. The next time she awoke she was back in the bed, and that was 2 weeks ago, but whatever had happened while she was out it had made her recovery even faster. Since that time, her only visitor had been Thor who thankfully for once wasn’t bellowing at the top of his lungs but actually being quiet.

Today? Well today she thought maybe she would try to sit up on her own since she was alone. It wasn’t like her screams wouldn’t bring someone anyway. Gingerly she used her arms as much as she could to get herself propped up further in the bed on the pillows and against the head board. With a small whimper and thankfully slight tingling in her legs she made it.

Norns this bed was huge. Glancing over the mattress and beginning to contemplate whether or not to get up. She itched badly to walk and a glance down to her covered body looked as if she had been dressed. Possibly by Loki, who didn’t like for anyone to see her uncovered, but it seemed Brunnhilde didn’t care as she loved to lay on her bare stomach.

Gathering the blanket, she pushed it away, doing little to use her legs at the moment, she wanted to assure she wasn’t over doing it. Letting out a loud huff, she decided now was as good of time as any. Mainly using her arms once again to shuffle to the edge, a dull stabbing ache but nothing she wasn’t able to handle. A sigh of relief leaving her chest the instant her feet dangled over the edge of the bed.

“Should I alert Loki or Brunnhilde that you are awake? You made need to wait for them before you get out of bed,” a robotic, female voice came out of nowhere. Y/N glancing around for the source of the voice and found none.

“Who are you,” her voice rasped, it hurt to finally use it for more than just shrieking in agony.

“I am F.R.I.D.A.Y. I am an assistant around the tower, an AI. I am here if you need anything so just ask,” the voice spoke. OK now it made since why there was no body for the voice.

“Where is everyone,” Y/N spoke to the air, sliding to put her feet flat on the floor and feeling the fluffy rug under her feet and giggling slightly.

“They are in another part of the tower in a meeting, but I can let someone know you are awake,” the AI continued as she braced on the bed, she wanted to walk so badly.

“No, it's fine. Let me just try to get up. If I can’t you can call for someone,” she wasn’t sure who she wanted to find her, really she wanted both Loki and Brunnhilde. She had grown used to their petting.

With a loud huff Y/N gathered her courage to push to her feet. A wobble at having been on her back for so long and a sudden dizziness had her holding her arms out to stop the spinning. The pain shooting to the base of her skull and the tips of her fingers but once more, it was manageable. A pull at the base of her spine had her reaching back to feel a small curved edge device on the small of her back.

Gingerly she remained standing, the pain easing considerably as she lifted the shirt to dance her fingers over it. The current that flowed through it made her seidr tingle, but it wasn’t malevolent. Yes, her seidr, the very thing she had still refused to use.

It wasn’t clear why, but she just couldn’t summon, to heal or to help her walk. Loki had taken to directing it and using it to help her. Slowly the god had been coaxing Y/N to use it but all she would use it for was to summon a glass of water.

It had spent centuries locked away. Centuries she was without it. Centuries that had been wiped from her mind on how to actually use it but hadn’t the heart to tell Loki she had no control over it like he had showed her in visions. A slight tingle had her coming out to realize she was standing.

With an excited chuckle she took a step forward, no pain. She was wobbly but easily corrected for it as she tipped toed around the room like a giddy little girl. All the excitement had her realizing…

“I have to pee,” Y/N blurted, steadying herself on the foot of the bed. There was pain but still it was nothing like before. The ache finally easing off when the device on her back tingled for an instant, helping to ease the ache so she could straiten.

“The door in the back corner,” the AI chimed in as this time she gingerly walked to the told door. The pain nonexistent at the moment as she stepped into the bathroom, mouth agape at the size of the shower.

Hurrying to pee, she couldn’t wait to get into the shower. Clothes discarded quickly as she got in, a slight ache but it was very manageable. Turning on the shower to have it rain over her like it would in nature.

Hmm, here she goes again, as giddy as before and dancing in the water like a soaked fool. Looking around to fined shampoos and soaps, quick to use them as the smells were anything but the sterile things she was used to clearing with.

After she was thoroughly washed and shriveled, Y/N exited, dried and put the clothes back on to explore the rest of the room.

The outer room was large outside of the bedroom. More nice furniture, another glass wall, and a kitchen that she went to immediately nose around. Looking over all the contents of the cabinets and the refrigerator to all of the sudden feel as if she hadn’t eaten in a while. Well, she possibly hadn’t eaten a true full meal since before her injury. The pain had kept her appetite down or made what she ate come back up.

Carefully looking around the refrigerator, she pulled a container to her with food in it. It was a grain with what looked like some sort of meat and vegetables. With a shrug she decided to check it out, get her a glass of water and a fork from the drawer she had went through.

Forgetting about the device on her lower back, she leaned against the counter to eat whatever it was in the tray but whimpered, pushing away from the counter. The pressure made pain shoot over her body, but it immediately stopped when she moved.

OK, none of that, she thought as she stood in the middle of the kitchen to eat the meal. It was cold, but it was no big deal. Truthfully she wasn’t served hot meals except for when Loki and Brunnhilde found her, it was still foreign to have one. This was just fine.

Finishing up the container, she dropped it in the sink to move to the cabinet where she spotted chips. Downing the water, she grabbed the bag of chips and began to inspect the room closer as she munched on the Doritos. That was what the bag called them, and they were getting orange powder all over her fingers.

Shrugging her shoulders at the newest development, Y/N continued with her bag of chips into the hall. Pausing in the doorway of the room to look up and down the corridor before ducking back in to put the empty bag on the counter top and licking the cheese off her fingers. Taking a step back out into the hallway, she was curious and heard the sound of someone talking to her left.

Taking steps down the corridor towards the conversation knowing she should be cautious, but centuries on Sakaar had taught her to go towards the conversation, not away. Her purpose was to be fearless and entertain. She may remember being a warrior, but that wasn’t who she was any longer. That was why she was in the state she was, she was no fighter and it rendered her all but useless.

The source of the talking was coming from a tv, which she ignored in favor of walking around the room to look out another glass wall. This one actually looked down on a well-manicured lawn, more like a park so to say. The thought of wanting to feel the grass under her feet, wanting to walk in the open, a thing she had been denied for so long.

It made her long for it and had her stumbling in the grass thanks to the unfamiliarity with her seidr. It was also a surprise for the people sitting on the benches who gawked at her.

“Good evening,” her voice rasped out in the cold. The look out of the window had betrayed her to the temperature. The ones on the bench in thick coats, her breath misting around her. Though the cold wouldn’t hurt her, with a smile she nodded to the on lookers and began to frolic around the open lawn like a child.

That was until she started to feel tired and the device seemed to tingle more so than before, feeling an ache to her legs. Maybe she had done to much, looking up to the floor she came from. So how did she get back?

Shutting her eyes, thinking of the room she came from to open her eyes to the same outdoor space. The others had left, talking to the air, F.R.I.D.A.Y, and to her surprise she did answer. The sound coming from a lamp post.

“How do I get back in,” she asked the AI.

“I will open the door you need to enter,” the AI spoke happily, a door at the bottom of the building opening for her to walk to, all be it stiffly.

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