#febwhumpday7

[dragonsarecool]

Febwhump Day 7 - Alternate Timeline Self

A/N: Sisko thought he'd finally gotten over Jennifer's death. But then he meets her again, and the universe seems to fall apart. Set after 'Through the Looking Glass'.

Part of him had thought about calling Dax over for a late night drinking session, but he decided he couldn't bear the idea of voicing his thoughts aloud. Tonight was the sort of night where he needed to be alone; he didn't need to hear stories from every single one of her marriages.

He took a long sip, silently grateful that he'd decided to replicate a bottle instead of his usual glass. One drink wouldn't be enough tonight. Not after what he'd been through today.

Correction: not after who he'd seen today.

She was Jennifer, and yet she wasn't Jennifer. The implications were enough to make his head spin. I hate temporal mechanics.

They were the same eyes that made his knees weak and his voice stutter.

The palms of her hand had the same creases that he'd spent years memorising the pattern of.

Her hair had the same texture that he'd missed twirling around his fingers while they cuddled at night.

The way her voice faded into a breath when she'd whispered his name-

Sisko grabbed the bottle and took another swig, allowing his tears to roll freely as he stared mindlessly at the stars. Having to say goodbye to you again was definitely one of the worst moments of my life.

Was this whole thing some sort of tests from the Prophets? They'd used Jennifer's image when he first entered the Temple, after all. Maybe they thought they were being kind and giving me a chance to see her again?

It's not an opportunity I appreciated.

He'd told Doctor Bashir it hadn't been the kidnapping or playing the role of a dead man that bothered him the most; it was the torture.

"But sir, you said you didn't experience any torture?" Bashir had asked hesitantly.

He'd taken a deep breath, trying to stop himself from breaking down in front of Bashir. "Having the opportunity to see my wife and then ripping it away forever. Getting to hear her voice, see her smile, hold her hand after all these years; she's dead, Doctor. She's been dead for a long time, and that was the real torture."

He lay his head on the ottoman and stared out into the endless universe, grateful that the morning was still hours away. Bashir and Kira had instructed him to take as much time as he needed; the station would survive a few days without him.

He knew they genuinely meant it as well. After all, they'd been to the parallel universe. They'd seen alternate counterparts, how they live and how they died. They would give him the space he needed.

For now, he had time to grieve again.

[crowleychild]

DAY 7: ALTERNATIVE TIMELINE SELF

Fandom: Star Wars

Rating: T

Warnings: Gender dysphoria, intense guilt, depression, wrong puberty

When he was in the Clan, it hadn’t really matter. You train, play, learn and live with everybody, boy, girl or neither. Obi-Wan wasn’t really close to anyone, but he was always read as a boy by his peers, and by Masters who didn’t know him personally. Pronouns didn’t make sense for him at that time, so he didn’t see anything weird in people calling him a “he”. It was what it was. He didn't think he was different from other girls, but he didn’t see how they were different from other boys either.

But one doesn’t stay a kid forever.

Obi-Wan wasn’t stupid. As soon as he studied galactic biology and learnt about differences between sexes in his species, he knew there was something wrong with him.

“I am a girl” he would think, looking at his holo book. But his mind fought against that idea. He had always been happy with being himself, Obi-Wan, and he didn’t quite get the difference between boys and girls yet, other than how their bodies were meant to look different.

But by looking at other humans his age, he only came to the conclusion that they were pretty similar.

“I am a boy” he would think, and that thought did feel right.

He couldn’t remember which Jedi had found him at three, so he didn’t know who else knew his secret. He guessed Yoda knew, but he had always referred to him the same way he referred to the other boys, and he had never called him a girl, so that was fine.

And then, too soon, he was a teen.

His puberty was late, so when he was assigned to Qui-Gon he could still pass as male. But again, he wasn’t stupid. He knew that sooner or later, he had to go through that process that would surely bring him more pain, and that was something he could simply not let happen.

Maybe he should have asked Qui-Gon for help, talked about it with his Master, but at first their relationship was far from perfect, so he didn’t want to add anything to the list of things that bother both of them. Plus, Jedi weren’t supposed to care about mundane matters such as the body and how you look, so he always believed his thoughts were wrong and incorrect. He feared punishment or judgment if he told his Master.

He needed a solution, though, so any second he had of free time he spent it on the Archives. And while he searched for it, he kept with his Jedi training, except that someone did punish and judge him: himself.

Every time he couldn’t run as fast as other boys or lose at a training combat because he hadn’t been strong enough, he felt like he was letting his Master down. Everytime he couldn’t do something perfectly at his first try, it was because this thing that was wrong with him was making him fail.

Qui-Gon felt his bitterness every time this happened and he would tell him he didn’t need to be like anyone else, that his puberty would come eventually and he would be faster and stronger. But this only made his heart sink even more.

Yeah, his puberty would come, but not the one that it should be.

He kept searching in the Archives for an answer.

And he found it.

“Testosterone”. He realized. “That’s what I need”

He could go to any clinic on Coruscant and say he was a boy with a testosterone deficit, and that he needed a supplement. He knew everyone in the upper levels respected and almost feared the Jedi, so they wouldn’t ask him too many questions. Now, how to go there without raising any suspicions?

The solution presented itself in the form of homework. He had to choose an optional subject to study, and he found one that could work as an excuse: Community service. He could volunteer to help at some clinic, help the doctors, heal the wounded, and just after his shift ended, he would take his T shot right there. It seemed easy.

At first, it worked. He enjoyed working there, he learnt he liked helping others, and nobody knew why he was really there. Testosterone did his work. He became faster and stronger. Yet still, he kept punishing and judging himself, as if he couldn’t put down that old habit. He would tell himself everything he was was a lie, that he was lying to his Master and that that was why his bond was weak and they didn’t have a good relationship even when years had passed since they met. He told himself that he could be fast and strong but just because he had cheated, he didn’t deserve to have come this far as a Jedi.

Eventually, of course, his Master discovered.

Obi-Wan remembered he had been so scared that he had thought of leaving the Order, leaving Coruscant, if that meant not seeing his Master or anyone who knew him again. But if fighting to be himself had taught him something, was to be brave. He faced his Master, looking him in the eye when he declared he was a boy.

He may abandon the Order, but he wouldn't do it feeling ashamed for who he was.

To his surprise, Qui-Gon was okay with it. He told him that of course he was a boy, and that there was nothing wrong with wanting to change your body, especially if that change makes you love yourself in a better way.

Many things changed from that day on. Obi-Wan didn't have to carry that weight on his own anymore, his Master always helped him and defended his true self from others. Together, they organized everything for his top surgery and hysterectomy.

Those were happy years.

And despite all, Obi-Wan never felt quite right ever again. His mind was always telling him it was his fault when a mission failed. It was irrational, but he felt like that every time something went wrong. Even if there was nothing he could have done about it.

Maybe, if he had told everything to his Master before, the guilt would have never appeared in the first place.

He would look at his scars, at his beard, at his muscles, and knew it was worth it, but irrationally he thought he should pay for some sin he had never committed.

And now, when Obi-Wan is old, living on Tatooine, he wonders a lot what his life could have been if he had had the correct body.

Maybe, in another timeline, he is confident and never felt like there was something wrong with him. Maybe, in another timeline he was able to help Anakin, their bond stronger because they would feel more aligned, since they were both real men. Maybe, in another timeline he wasn't living on that desert planet, where he couldn’t get his T and where he was dying every day, remembering that his body wasn't what it was supposed to be and it was driving him crazy.

Again, this was all irrational. He knew he was a real man, testosterone or not. He knew a bond had nothing to do with one's body. And he knew he couldn’t have done anything more for his padawan.

He knows now he has a sin to pay for, his wrong body was not the excuse for all his failures, and that thought hurts even more.

link to my ao3 work:

tags: @febuwhump

[sisters-sideblog]

Day 7: Used as an experiment (Wind)

“I’m sorry,” Wild said to Twilight in the background, interspersed with, “It was an accident - didn’t mean to - we were just playing around.”

“Deep breathes, Wind. Eyes on me.” Time crouched in front of Wind. Whenever he tried to look at what Warriors and Hyrule were doing to his arm, Time stopped him with a hand on his chin or brushing through his fringe.

“Are they gonna fix it?” Wind asked in his bravest voice.

Time glanced over, again stopping Wind from doing the same. When he answered, his voice sounded so confident that Wind had to believe him. “Yes, Wind. You’ll be fine. But perhaps reconsider letting Wild use you as a test subject in his experiments with physics.”

[myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19]

USED AS AN EXPERIMENT

Ah this is the beginning and I'll post the prequel is for another prompt day.

I should explain Wen Jin here was captured for his power. Damn this will make sense in the here prequel.

****************

"Truly amazing results." A woman said at the door " don't you agree Dr Honda?"

It was the Doctor in charge of the facility. An older woman in her mid 60s probably, with grayed out hair and tanned skin. She began this whole thing.

Milo was younger at 48.

"Ye…….. yes Dr Orna….. I really think today's results were wonderful." Milo said standing between the woman and the boy. Somehow he was trying to keep her from him.

" Then why did you take the young man?" She walked past Milo and stood at the painting of Wen Jin's sister. Studying it. The young boy was brilliant at being able to predict how his sister would look from his parents and him.

"Well……… Dr Orna I thought that was enough testing and he was becoming a danger." Milo answered. He didn't like the way things were done and didn't care about his original reasons for coming.

"The guards could have handled it." She retorted nonchalantly.

She was really going to let them electrocute the boy to submission. Milo instinctively hardened his stance.

"Well whatever your reasons we were not done." She continued as two large men walked in pushing Milo aside.

Milo was thrown to the ground. He stepped forward but was stopped by Dr Orna and could only watch helplessly as a sleeping Wen Jin was dragged by his shoulders, his legs just dragging behind him.

"Time to do this again." She chuckled.

It sent shivers through him.

*****************

Milo and Dr Orna walked into the same room as before. This time there was a robotic chair in the middle of the room hooked to so many machines and a still sleeping Wen Jin was strapped to it, his hands and feet bound. His hands seemed to be placed on some kind of orbs that Milo tried to get close enough to see but Dr Orna held his shoulder.

"You'll be sitting this out Dr Honda." She pointed to a door that led to another room that was for observers.

Milo nodded at her and headed to it. His heart wasn't at ease with whatever she was to do.

After a while some doctor came in with a virtual reality headset and strapped on the boy and placed headphones in his ears.

They shocked the boy awake and then someone started nodding to one of the doctors who pressed a button and the screens turned on and so did Wen Jin's headset.

**************

Wen Jin felt some electricity pulse through him and for a second everything was dark and he couldn't hear anything. There was something on his ears and eyes, he tried to reach to see what was put on him but then realized he was tied down by his feet and hands. He tried to pry himself free but he couldn't and his hands were holding something smooth, thick and hard.

Before he could fully figure out what was happening something played in front of his eyes and he could hear something in his ears.

Wen Jin struggled more when he realized what was playing was his grandfather's funeral and what he heard was chanting. His grandfather's picture was placed in an altar, he could see his family giving offerings, he saw Joss paper being burnt and he heard the sobs from his mother and sister. He began to tear up seeing everything happen. He just wanted it to stop.

He heard the same ticking sound and had the same feeling as before. It increased as more moments during the funeral were played. Somehow as it went on the sound was faster and he felt more and more power come out of his hands.

"Please stop. Stop this. I beg you." Wen Jin screamed out through his sobs.

The video continued until they began carrying his grandfather's casket. His father was the one doing it and he knew that would also have been his duty as the oldest grandson.

"No more please, I beg you. That's enough. Just stop." He pleaded again. For all that would do.

He got nothing all he could hear was his grandfather's funeral.

The ticking became faster.

*****************

Dr Orna joined Milo in the observation room.

Milo was at the glass separating the two rooms. His eyes looked longingly to stop what was going on. If what he thought was true they were playing the boy's grandfather's funeral in there. Because that's what he saw from the huge screens around.

The doctors were trying to find out which part of his brain was active as he used his power by replicating what happened before. The orbs were to see how fast his powers worked.

Milo saw the boy squirming in the chair trying to pry his hands and legs free from it. He couldn't take this. He began to make his way to the door.

"Stay here Dr Honda." Dr Orna said without having to look at him.

Milo closed his eyes for a moment and breathed in then he turned back. Now all he could do was watch. His fingers digging into his palm.

Then he heard the boy scream for them to stop. His heart shattered and he almost cried for him.

"How are the readings on the orbs?" Dr Orna said leaning to one Dr who was at a computer monitor.

"It's amazing it seems they are aging rapidly as if going through their stages in time." The young Dr answered.

Dr Orna smiled, her eyes gleaming.

Milo didn't care about what they were saying; he only cared for the boy out there.

When the boy pleaded again he just wanted to break the window and hold the young man.

"It got faster, Dr Orna." The doctor said, "too fast." She continued. She was shocked and had to rub her eyes to make sure she was seeing the readings correctly.

" Amazing." Dr Orna expressed completely immersed in the readings looking like they were the most important things ever.

Not before long the orbs withered away and the boy touched the chair, rotting it little by little until his hands were free and he was able to get the headgear and earphones off. He threw them to the ground and stumbled back away from them like they were the most evil things in the world but just cause those were off didn't mean his horror was over. There were screens all around playing out his grandfather's funeral still.

He held his hands to his ears and closed his eyes shut.

"Stop, stop , stop!!!!" He screamed.

Milo couldn't take it anymore and burst into the room grabbing the remote from one of the Doctors and turning everything off.

Milo walked over to Wen Jin who at this point had sunk down still clutching his ears and had his eyes shut. He was still sobbing.

Milo heard him say something he knelt down to the boys level. Hesitantly reaching out to him.

The young man was shaking and pleading.

Milo touched the boy's knee and the boy pulled away from him moving himself back against the wall.

He still held his ears and shut his eyes.

Milo moved closer to him and heard the boy say something.

"Tíngzhi……… stop." He said repeatedly. He was still shaking and rocking his body.

Milo nearly cried seeing the boy like this.

"Wen Jin." Milo called out but the boy didn't respond. He didn't even look at him. He just continued pleading. His voice so strained and hoarse.

Milo tried again but the boy still didn't respond.

He understood this was too much for the boy. He stood up not caring for the doctors that watched him. He walked to a table and held out a tiny gun looking device. Then he walked back to the boy. He crouched down and placed it to the boy's neck pulling the trigger.

The boy gasped feeling the shot. Then he looked at Milo, his eyes were red and he had the saddest look on his face. Then eye's fluttered closed and his body fell to the side. Milo held him as he fell. The boy's tears ran down even as his eyes were shutting. His face relaxed and had an unknowing expression. He looked around and focused on Milo for a second.

"Xiàng nín hé nín de jiārén zhì yǐ zuì shēnqiè de āidào'' Milo whispered to the boy.

*My condolences to you and your family*

Then Wen Jin's eyes closed as his head fell to the side. Milo sighed and lifted the boy in his arms.

No one stopped him and he glared at the guards that tried to come near him.

When he reached the boys room he placed him on the bed. Covering him and wiping the residual tears from the boy's eyes then from his own.

Then he pulled a chair and sat by the boy's bed side. He really didn't care anymore. screw whatever reasons they have for this. They took away his childhood and family then they tortured the boy with his own grandfather's funeral for their own gain. But he was one of them, for so long he was one of them.

**************

@luna-rein @smellofsnoww @irathgo

@febuwhump