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honeyhenry · 4 years ago

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Captain Confusion

A/N: Inspired by this video that makes me weep with its cuteness! I just had to write this okay 🥺🥺🥺 This is in the same universe as Homeward Bound, which happens after this story. Feel free to give it a read after this, if you haven’t already! ALSO should note that the lovely @ohmygoodie is my Sy partner in crime and without them this fic would not be made possible :)

Warning: mention of operations/hospitals, and a whole lot of fluff!

It was a simple procedure and so it hadn't worried you too much, other than the usual fears when a loved one is under the knife while in the hands of trained doctors. Sy’s hernia had been authorised for operation only five minutes into the doctor’s appointment you had all but dragged him to, and scheduled for 4 days later. Not really much time to prepare mentally, but you knew it was necessary with your big bear of a man in pain. Despite the painkillers prescribed, he was walking with a limp and groaning in bed for all the wrong reasons.

In the waiting room, you and his Ma kept busy during the 45 minute wait by looking through magazines, talking about how the Captain’s quality of life will improve, and what kind of minor jobs you’ll have him do around the house while he’s recovering as you continue to work.

“I hope the recovery isn’t as long as some people have said. I know for a fact he’ll not want to be cooped up all day. If he’s anything, he’s stubborn” you sigh, knowingly.

Ma smiles, looking at you pointedly, knowing that she is in the presence of the only other soul who knows what is best for her son. “He knows better now that his health is his wealth. He’s got a lot more riding on being well now. After all, it’s not just him he’s gotta be there for anymore.”

“Yeah, I mean I always tell him, he’s not 25 anymore. Or even 30. I’ll need you to back me up, he does anything you say. I’m his equal, you’re his Mom.”

You both laugh a little, hers warm and kind, while yours tinges with the remaining hopeful nerves of an army Captain’s wife. You don’t like not knowing about your Sy, especially since you spent all those years apart, not knowing if he was safe, or even alive. The waiting, in any capacity, is the hardest part.

You’re flipping through a random tabloid magazine, when the surgeon in charge walks through to the waiting room.

“Everything went really well with Captain Syverson. He’s coming to from the anaesthetic and asking for his Ma?”

Ma grins before sucking her teeth between her lips watching as your mouth drops. You both move from the waiting area to follow the surgeon towards where your husband is resting. You speak under your breath, only wanting Sy’s Ma to hear you; “I hope he still remembers how to grovel after this.”

Ma enters the room with you following her, arriving only a couple more corridors along from where you’d last seen him earlier that morning. He may not have asked for you but you were going to see Sy whether he wanted it or not. A grand push of the door allows it to swing open, and suddenly there he is. A little disoriented but has a large dopey smile plastered on his face as soon as he sees his Ma. His heavy head lolls to one side as he rests it on the plush hospital pillow.

“Hey Ma” he groans out as she bends over her large son to give his forehead a kiss, taking his hand in hers. He spends a moment just gazing at her for a while, the love he has for her evident on his face, as she tells him that everything went well, and that he can go home tomorrow.

It’s only after this tender mother and son moment, that he notices you.

“Ma.... why ya bringing a beautiful girl here when I’m like this...oh god I’m not wearing underwear Ma!”

His feeble attempt at trying to cover himself means that you actually end up seeing far more of him than you expected. Nothing you hadn’t seen before, but it definitely hasn't happened in front of his own mother before. The whole situation makes you blush and giggle a little as you try your best to avoid eye contact with Ma. You can only imagine the look on her face, and you don’t want to get any more involved with Sy’s naked form than you need to right now.

Rather than put you and your poor Sy through any further embarrassment, Ma speaks up.

“Oh darlin’, this is y/n. You remember her, right?”

And while he’s listening - or at least pretending to listen to his Ma fussing over him again - he’s just staring at you, gazing in awe as if you were the one to hang the stars in the sky.

“You are.... so pretty” he slurs, making you break out a genuine smile that he mirrors, glad that he was the one to make you look even more pretty.

“Well thanks handsome. How do you feel?” you perch on the edge of the bed and hold his hand. To him, the gesture feels warm and inviting - even if he doesn't know you, he recognises something about you in the comfort that you bring.

“Feel like shit. Oh fuck i said ‘shit’ in front of the lady” he whines again, scrunching his eyes closed as hangs his head in shame. It looks like he might even cry with the realisation that he’s made such a foolish impression of himself. It takes Ma shushing him and making him take a sip of juice from his bedside to calm down, dabbing his face with a cloth when his juice spills from his mouth.

“Oh Logan Daniel Syverson...what did they do to ya?” she lightly scolds as she helps clean up the mess he’s unknowingly created around him. That’s your Sy, a hurricane of mess that somehow fits into order just how he likes it.

You giggle a little more at his shameful expression, before he refocuses, giving you his undivided attention once more.

“How is it that ya know my Ma and we’ve never met? Or have we? ‘Cause I think i’d remember a face like yours”

“Well...” you start, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear to let him see your entire face, hoping it would jog his memory. As you do so, the ring on your fourth finger glints in the hospital light, and for the first time since you've entered the room, he’s noticed.

“Oh...man...knew a girl like you would be snatched up already. Whoever has the honour of being yours is a very lucky man.” He smiles softly, a wistful look in his eye, while makes you realise that you can’t wait for the drugs to leave his system, you have to remind him who you are and who he is, right this very moment.

“Sy honey... we’re married. You’re my husband, and I’m your wife. I think the drugs are making you more than a bit loopy.”

It’s his turn for his jaw to drop, his eyes are unblinking as he takes in what you’ve just said. He turns sharply - more than his doctor would have probably liked - to his Ma, and then back to you, and then his Ma again, waiting for one of you to burst out laughing at the prank you surely must be playing on him.

“Wha-? A wife? I have a wife?” you nod and he exhales a deep breath of air in amazement.

“YOU’RE my wife? Really?” you nod again and Ma smiles at you as she watches the scene of Logan meeting you all over again.

“Am I still in the army? I’m a Captain ya know”

“You left just a few months ago. You still work in the local camps, of course. You like it there, and you’re home every night and most weekends.”

“Does Ma like you?” You don’t even get a chance to finish as he turns to his mother “Do you like her? is she nice? Does she like your new kitchen? I built it y’know.”

You knew when you met, dated, and married him, that Sy was a Momma’s boy. He loves his mother so much, that her opinion will always mean the world to him.

Ma nods “You two are the sweetest couple. She’s the best addition to the family, gives you a run for your money alright. She’s my new favourite.” You get a soft hug from her as she says this, with her wrapping her arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. She’s always felt so grateful that her Logan found you, because my goodness did he love you ferociously, and he needed you in his life. You were the making of him, and the whole Syverson clan will forever be grateful to you for it.

"And where did we get married? If we really are married.” He continues his line of questioning.

“At the ranch, on your family’s land. it was such a special day. We had the reception there too. And we went to Italy for our honeymoon.”

Sy is basking in every word you say, praying it to be true, as if he could will it into existence if it hadn’t already happened, wanting badly to remember sunset kisses and italian food and beach days all spent with you. He perks up at the last thing you say, taken by complete surprise.

“Honeymoon?! Oh my god have we...ya know..?” A blush fades over Sy’s face, and even though you love his Ma, you really wish she wasn’t finding out so many details about your personal life today, like how your son rails you on the regular in many ways, and in many places. He must somehow remember or at least accurately imagine your past endeavours, as he grins like a little shit.

You smack his arm, lightly but with a firm hand.

“Be quiet, or the whole ward will know about our sex life” you threaten. “Yes we’ve had sex. i’d hope so given that we have a kid on the way.”

If Ma had had to deal with her son getting horny over his “new”wife, she was being fully compensated for it as she witnessed him fall head over heels in love with you, all over again.

“A kid?...Tell me ya not messing with me...are we really- I-” he swallows and his tears come even easier than before “We’re havin’ a baby?” With the sudden realisation, he turns to his Ma. “This beautiful woman right here’s havin’ my kid, Ma?” He looks between the two of you again, watching as you both nod and beam from ear to ear.

“You know you cried just as much when i told you for the first time too. i promise when the drugs are out your system it’ll all make sense again.”

Sy smiles, clutching your hand in his warm palm, almost scared to let go as the door is knocked and he feels you might be taken away. Instead, it’s a welcome visitor.

“Hey doc,” Sy greets the man who reenters the room, now freshly out of scrubs to visit his patient - who if anything is now simply love sick, no hernia to be found. “This is my wife, and she’s having a baby.” he looks back to you with a quirk of his eyebrow “My baby?” You roll your eyes and he confirms it; “my baby.”

“Oh, congratulations...again.”

The doctor’s evaluation and explanations don’t take long, and while Sy is being informed, you start rubbing your belly as a form of self-comfort. You will need to remind your child that while their father looks incredibly stern and impossibly large, he is silly and goofy and already loves them with his entire being. Over the course of the afternoon, Sy talks with you while the anaesthetic wears off. It turns out they had given him a pretty high dosage based on his height and muscle mass, so he would be out of action for a couple of hours at least.

“Oh, i have your ring” you pipe up before he starts getting too sleepy again, taking the thick gold band off of the necklace around your neck, placing it on his finger carefully.

“That feels better already” he sighs, as he begins to doze in and out of consciousness. Before he closes his eyes once more to rest peacefully, a small tear slides down his cheek, which you of course, notice. Sy has cried maybe 5 times in the time you’ve known him and three of those times have been in this very room.

“Honey what’s wrong? Are you in pain? i can call the doctor-”

“No i’m fine i’m fine i just-” he sniffs and tries to clear his throat from the sad, heavy pain he feels in his chest. “I’m gonna be real sad when I wake up from this dream. What if I can’t find you when I wake up?”

Oh your sweet, silly man.

“Bear it’s not a dream, I’ll be right here when you get up properly and we can go home and cuddle and I’ll heat up your favourite meal. I’ll be right there with you.”

“And the baby?” he asks, eyes wide. almost nervous to ask.

“Well they have to come too, they're with me. We can look at their pictures again so you can get reacquainted. And Aika will be so happy you’re back. We’ve been gone the whole day.”

“Aika!” your husband perks up, “Oh Aika, man....I love that dog..”

“I know you do bear, you just get some rest for now and then we can go home.”

Before you know it, he’s fallen back to sleep, his mouth wide open as he slumps against his pillow, completely out of it.

It’s dark outside when Sy opens his eyes again, watching as his Ma passes you a small herbal tea in the dimly lit hospital room. Technically visiting hours are over, but no one was going to argue with the Captain’s family. You smile, and he feels like he can finally relax, in your presence

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” he growls lowly, and you look up at him from your phone, beaming in surprise, glad that your husband had woken up feeling a bit more like himself.

“Oh hello again” you smile and squeeze his hand, his slow blinking already indicating a much clearer mind, and that he knows exactly who you are.

“Again? What’d I miss?”

“The drugs” he stops you mid-sentence for a sweet kiss, acting as though a minute more without your lips would be the source of his downfall. “Mmmh, the drugs made you so loopy, it was the sweetest thing, Sy.” You grin as he pulls you up beside him on the bed.

He raises his eyebrows, clearly with no recollection of any of the past events. Yet still, he smiles.

“Yeah? How’s baby?” he holds you close to his side, wrapping an arm around your waist so he can cover your tummy with his palm.

“They’re great. Glad to have daddy back and sane.”

You swear that as you say that, he starts tearing up again, this time however he doesn’t let them fall. He was openly weeping earlier, but you won’t tell him that. Not yet.

“Damnit. Must be something in these drugs they got me on.”

“Mm-hmm sure bear.”

You stay close that evening, both curled up on a hospital bed that is already quite a tight fit for your husband alone. But as always, he makes it work. You’re half on top of him, both of you fast asleep, when the nurses come to do their rounds. Ma had left just after he had woken up, sneaking off into the night to let the rest of the family know how her most middle son is keeping after the operation. You’d cuddled and doted on each other until you’d fallen asleep, Sy following not long after as he bid goodnight to you and your precious cargo with a soft kiss to your lips, and protective rub of your stomach.

He counts himself more than lucky to have something so good, that it would pain him to forget. He was living the life that he’d been too scared to ever dream of, and he couldn’t be more grateful.

taglist: @ohmygoodie @michelehansel @la-cey @palaiasaurus64 @sassy-pelican @brandycranby

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jesuisgourde · 3 years ago

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Mentions of Carl in Books Of Albion

Here is a list of various mentions of Carl in Peter’s journals. I figured these were of specific interest so I thought I’d make a compilation post. I’ve probably missed some since I went through the transcript fairly quickly, but these are most of them. Some are definite references, some are just things written by Carl in Peter’s journals. Some are very likely indirect references to Carl, but they may be references to others; I’ve made the assumption due to the context of surrounding pages. Also, Tumblr has ruined my fancy formatting from the doc, so I’m sorry if some of it looks weird.

Books Of Albion (physical book)

The Albion is still on course, though the route is annoyingly prone to be more akin to a Sid James Mystery Tour than a plain-sailing maiden voyage. Tension on the ship as ever, but more body mass to absorb & ease it. Steve sings. Justin plays bass. Carlos & I stoke the furnace. For now this is the format.

Without any clue as to the basics of self-sufficiency, Carlos is a slight burden - but still a richly talented and quite noble old stick who goes well out of his way not to prise anything out of my weak grasp.

Kellijean, Carlos, Francesca & myself all slept upstairs. Made my way home with a hoover, carrying it around my neck like the arm of a drunk friend.

9/3/1999 4....3 days to see out before my 20th birthday. I have asked Carlos to cancel my surprise party. He is a concern, I noted before: 'MY FRIEND IS RISING, PACKING HIS GUITAR, LEAVING ME. HE IS A GHOST AT THE MOMENT HE WALKS AWAY. DOES HIS SOUL CARRY THIS TORTURE FOR PAST MISDEEDS UNPUNISHED? DOES HE EXIST IN THE SINGULAR? MY FRIEND, A PROUD AND LONELY YOUNG MAN. FIGHTING GODS AND DEMONS. RUNNING ALWAYS FROM DEATH."

Strangely, I brought my guitar with me. Perhaps I can busk across. How foolish, naive or impracticle am I? How adventurous, capricious or inspired am I? where am I.... Through the peephole on the moving train, all I can see is that the place is quite long in letters and begins with an S. I think of Lorraine, Carlos, Francesca not at all....not of anything. I am conscious only of the desire to live.

First night of the club tonight. Justin, [illegible], Carlos & I are doing it. Came home from work & all my records are gone. stormed to the cambridge and berated the pigman, after a brief and bitter little exchange with his boss.

Francesca appeared before me outside the Prince Charles Cinema. She raced to me and kissed Carl.

Sometime close to the day that Carlos & I watched 'Love And Death on Long Island' (and afterwards paraded through the tea rooms of Picadilly) we both filled in application forms and were tres excited to be invited to the same group 'interview' - twas more like an audition though. I got the part. Carlos never. This did not bring any animosity - we both know that success for either of us is magnified a million times if it is shared by us both. But hey ho and never you mind the acute psychological burdens this most splendid and dark relationship heaps upon me.

I put the sick pig to bed. am out stalking... singing to meself & walking on me heels. your Love has made misery distant. to London quantum ille canis est in fenastra?

The new Albion rooms careworn & glamorous as any before. Already the Arcadian dream feels the pinch. Rough trade visitations... today is that day that we longed for & what of it? Piggle sleeps on the cradle-rocking central line.

But we do find ourself in reflective mood this cold christmas 23rd day of december, 2002. One ragged roaring hell of a year wherein The Libertines made good friends & had some right old knees ups to boot. & they can't take that away from us. I wonder where Carlos is this night. Perhaps he has fled to the wilds of Hampshire to be with his family. So long Marianne, it's time that we began.... the Albion rooms has spent the last three weeks being skag & boned up to the nines, and what tales I might tell.

day one in the Arcadian retreat, I awoke congealed & unhealed on the on the sprawling soft leather of the couch where Alan, Carl, Goatee, & I my last awake self watched headhunters awhile, I slept.... Wales greets me, we are in the hem of the Brecon Beacons' shirt Day 2 I come into myself for the very first time, not liking my appearance but aware of evolution & forever changes. Loathe to write & line even. Cherez Some Friday and the black hills surround us. Carl has gone under the knife today, after smashing his own face in on the glass sink shelf, after a harsh night of drinking, smoking and rowing.... "'ere what about us?" take an easy graceful sideways position.

Autumn barricading itself in subtlety in colours mixed and matched, steady days like a yawn, the nights silent stillborn cry for the very dawn. Bales of hay strapped up on the M4 broken bones on the roadside, weathered by the years cars crossing lanes like crabs. Biggles stirs in his sleep coughing. Again: a time for valour. A time of whispered events. Now faded with the passing years.

Christmas 2003 comes and goes in sweeping highs & unfamiliar agonies. Think back to the 23rd & the christmas do at the Rhythm factory, Carl at the end of the 3-man show in his jeans conducting the crackers crowd in some beagled ritual. spurring them on to further

"I was thinking of you..." he says "I always think of you..." we natter awhile on matters trivial and terrifyingly important alike. He wanders in and out from room to room. A wolf in his rooftop cave, elongated lair, wild hair and unfathomable eyes. I am begging him for words...longing for the exaltation & infinite glorious morning that comes like a shadow hot on the heels of a new song.

Image, bottom left: a torn out magazine photo of Carl with the title "Carl Barat: 'I'll love Pete 'til my dying day'.”

when you talk about your brother lover since you walked out on each other I know I'm a mess me, and that how when you but when you test me & why kiss and carress me and then I need for nothing more than maybe some wine the taste of my beloved is vodka & ciggies

Through The Looking Glass

You and I my love - we shall set off together very soon. A voyage unto the unknown - away from here, this wonderful place, these horrors..... "the waltz of the snowflakes" from the nutcracker suite Bones Bill has listened to nothing else but since QPR were sponsored by Classic FM. In his blind allegiance to west Londons finest, the logical hooligan was enraptured by the surprising soothes of this new music. Carlos you distressing little bug. Walking out like that. What can the title be for that odd little track Steve, Tom & I knocked up last night. Whitechapel Wonderland? Certainly I need to pay tribute to this wonderful place. This is my perfect summer....hidden away here.

As it stands or slouches The Libertines consists of Steve Bedlow, Bill Bones, Carl Barât & myself.

Let's get beagled & play pacman & read to me of the countess of Pembroke's Arcadia "D'yknow what pisses me off?" "What?" "You"

Image: a yellow post-it note. In Carl's handwriting in biro, a scribble in the top left corner and then "? shut eyes" in the centre.

NEVER NEVER sucking on a cigarette - where did that crowd come from. All money for the slot machines, to sell you back your dreams that's fine in hell so & I'm going with you that's fine with you we'll try it again, but my heart wont sing if my stomachs all untold cause she buckelled my spine [Written in Carl's handwriting] tattered [Written in Peter's handwriting] & tattooed my soul will soul old oh some wonder didn't you always say we gonna see better days so why we building them up & knocking them down it's always living them up & shooting them down with you knocking back [Written in Carl's handwriting] I believe everything you say I believe there'll be A Brighter Day

shit moosic at de foundary - until Spaniel & spaniel take over of course. Then commenceth the grand cabaret & oh what a night.

Let me on / let me off that fucking train. I cant stand the pain & the strain all over a gain c'mon a rush & a push & the land that we lie dead on is all ours. My friend loathes & despises the hammersmith & city line & all those other routes to false fame.

[Written in Carl's handwriting] Pity the fool you made like fear trod all over his sandwiches put grass down his back but here he comes again with the girls in tow what a horrorshow! [Written in Peter's handwriting] A protestant with the housekeeping? A catholic in the bedroom? A satanist in the bedroom?

[Written in Carl's handwriting] In cold silence She was silhouetted Her backdrop the twilight thames and this verdigris rail she reminded me the world was going to end fire in the west to have lived and to have loved to die arm in arm our bodies destroyed we'd come to no harm Do you hear the slurred whisper rising on the wind? Good-bye - love forever

Skint & Minted

feeling revolutionary? or consumed with self pity? dose yourself I remember you you're the one who filled my nose with glue so many kisses ago

sometimes your hard faced, makes me wanna hold you tight & kiss you till you're at least pretending to smile. At least pretending that the smallest ever thing can even be made right. Not living in a pantomime. fragile thing Cigarettes appear out of thin air

I you loved him when he was on the dole & when he was the king of rock n roll & you'll love him when he's buried in a hole. now here's a tale, a tale I will tell of blood & theft & oh sweet love & all the things we do so well

I cant believe how you spoke to me earlier you meanie. Anyway happen fuckin new year you fickle heartless rogue. Ex. I love you you sweet silly thing! flageolet. heres to 2002...hip hip

Albion 47

Drove up to the palace at night with Carl, perched on the kerb as pre-dawn mist spread thick over London, clouding the lights. The only the we have in common anymore, apart from the band, is that we both wear safety pins in our ears.

Campaign Of Hate

Carl, Gary & John... ha. Carl mumbles very quietly about it needing a little more dirt or aggression. Talk about a contradiction in terms. Shuffling about, mumbling, talking about spark! I drifted off into soho, old border. Saw sailer, bought some weed. Guinness. Do I wake or sleep, creaking door. Oh Stella! Don't worry her.

'The Making of the Libertines' Tax Exiles The irresistable rise of The Libertines' 'The Rise & fall of the Roman Empire' Where's Carlos? (the brackle)

my twin he pretends to be me walks abroad lies to broads locks me in at home tied to a like burrowed in a hole smoke & choke alone at home rocks to rocks chewing on my bone, smashed up into little dont need no pretty face stones dont need no human race..... slash the cushions I read every review velvet on the even though noone's got a fucking clue throne all your heroes sold their soles and brought brand new shoes, born to cant help those in need today lose cant get any speed today if you never the my lifes got no real meaning or control choose write some crappy catchy song you know try & get out of this hole couldnt we write some crappy snappy dont want to stay where you say I belong

At least I can come here now, to you, my blessed book. Confidante & forgiver. Holy book of all sordid scribbling & petty grievancy. & what's this I hear? the clanging melodia of Breck Rd Lover. Carlos & John doing their old school harmonies.

[Written in Carl's handwriting] cognac in the bedroom, sunami of polaroids & you are the fool Peter. Hold your tongue or someone may lop it off.

Another punch up at Leeds now biggles wrongly accused me of starting on him which I never did the opposite if anything. I got him a good crack in the face so this weekend he's had smacks in the face from Rabbi, Bani & myself That Boy he's mania they gave him a chance & he gave it right back he doesnt need it a good soundtrack

[Written in Peter's handwriting] So how did it go from EMI/Toshiba to Sony dinner? & in an hour? [Written in Carl's handwriting] We realised she had passion - they emitosh were good at their job BUT she had passion for music... we wanted you to meet her... we/you need to get on with these people⸺ but the food & conversation will be good ⸺⸺ xx

Fine moments at RAK. Mick Jones looks at Carl & smiles fondly, fatherly as the rock n roll star stumbles into the studio can in hand very late in the afternoon (Carlos that is). Oh love my friend, he drags me out to meet Abraham (formerly 'Phil' which he has tattooed on his knuckles).

[Written in Carl's handwriting] Spickio GQ Inter-view 1) The Libertines started in the dusty embryonic pages of of 17th century renaissance literature. The band started in 1997 in Mortlake. Another renaissance blah blah, ask Peter... 2) Hype? Comes from journalists and nosy noisy unfulfilled types. People got & get excited about songs. 3) the songs on our album might sound like

Albion 34

The wandering troubadours the black sheep boys the unowned sous dweller in purgatory in transitory transition the bustle and the hubbub of the old cinema has had a profound effect in my mind - the music heals and entrances the rapture of the exited boys and girls is so wonderfully new and so inherently old. [Written in Carl's handwriting in black ink pen.] Well, let me wright my dreams.

Will you take us with you when you go? Will you call us when you get there? When youve seen how the other half live Let us know Your song will fill the air..... [Written in Carl's handwriting] What a shame my steps were out of sync on that cold and rainy morning. I knew if I fell, dear friend, then we all would. how was I to hold that bulk of legend in order. that's the order of the day. Skinny wag from whitchurch. In these two hands, & my so beloved home town. Only tears now that well up & teater on the edges of my leathery sunken red eyes. Still it doesnt change. on & on & on. I hear Manchester groan under the weight of its self knowing industrial cosmopolitan north south skally gun toting soul chip on the shoulders. Says Imran anyhow. "We all shat ourselves down the wetland estate?" Another timeless tale from the subjects of Albion. Met Johnny Marr last night.

[Written in Carl's handwriting, cont.] Did it for you really. When I shook his hand, I gingerly probed his callouses & thought of you. Never make me swear on the soul of my twin. He was kind but jaded. told me where to score. told me to be ware. He gave up smoking yesterday his wife (who's name escapes me) Mrs Marr, told me from behind her hand. I didn't score. flesh, bone, myth, legend. 2 hands. no more heroes. go through them all like cigarettes & what you got left? Is t really worth it? Thou shalt not worship false idols. Idyl idle eye doll. I hear lou Reeds a right old spaz these days. I don't know when to die. Some go too soon. Nietzsche says.... then died too old, babbling mad with syphilis. There is no other half. not unless you see it as those who do & those who don't. those who show it & those who won't. those that choose to live, or ? candy coated sinners. Always alone. Mental note. Dont get killed crossing road in rain.

couldnt hide my excitement when Carlos said he met Johnny Marr & that he's coming to the gig & likes the album. Or is he winding me up?

All At Sea

what words scyth the heads of my loves poppies. a creeping, cautious shadow that hates my reckless intent. To hold you, to heal you, to kill you yes & roll over you in Teesdale st. Loyal and jealous the night, play a record. If you will I will anyway feel this hollow or sick. loyal and sick to the back teeth of that awful taste. You're the model of my love, hardened in the fire, so soft to touch, so warm to the blade, you hurt me & I hear you cry out in pain

F#m → E & change rhythm intro "what do you know about me? All you know is all that you see, wish you would listen to reason baby - wish you'd been listening to me. So.. so you tell me I'm not alone, and that you'll soon be coming home but the way that you left me drives my mind insane"... check with biggles...

'look out for the Daley Thompson lookalike tanned trim toned and ready to get superstoned, a thousand kissywishes to you and a thousand more and one more for Carl from the bum at the corner. here's lookingatcha hugs of love wolfy'

Novella

Is a book of Albion lost now and forever. Grand tales of scandanavian adventure wherein we realized one of our early dreams of absolute pandemonium on stage, encouraging the gyrating immaculate kids to take to the boards & swarm all over the stage they did & what wonder ensues. Some of them are so surprised I'm taller or shorter than them. Chucked out of the venue we played at in Bergen for beating up the dj when he wouldn't play the Smiths & was rude to Carlos. Burly vikings escorted us to the door.

I suppose I must begin now, to record these last four months, to reflect on the 'absolute' - the sights I never thought I'd see & the meagre miserly destruction which I held so dear. My long talk with Carlos today is the green light for this trawling into the dim & near past. (Afore the smoke addled brain loses it entirely to loss)

Now I must tell you a tale of great splendour & horror, the tale of the last few sacred months, and their unfathomable events. sketches of scandanavia, lost forever in a mislaid leather bound book of Albion. Remember Carlos being awoken by the Norwegian customs guard, light shining in his sleeping face. "Fuck off" "It's Norwegian customs" said the uniformed guard "I dont care about your local traditions" He sat up and saw the officer - fell out of his bunk & cracked his head on the wooden bar.

Come 'ead Biggles, eight days a week. I heard it was a competition, do I look like I care? I suppose that I must I wrestled the infinite & mastered the lonesome day. Making & breaking friends.

A friend one respects when you get on the gear. The universality of culture. A personal poem that hundreds more relate to, and then a life and a love is shared. More than a tatoo,

Lonely Villein

Can it be true that you after so long you're strolling into view I've missed you but you know I can be stoical and struggle on with lost limbs a plenty

Stealing from a thief was I that day in Harley Street, booking down a door and strolling off in the rain. They never mentioned - in court, in the press - the one object that I truly, completely singlemindedly stole. Not trust, not friendship: a burberry umbrella.

Bilo & Biggles go together like a couple of cup of Earl Grey & Giggles

Fragility Of Openness [There are loads of photos of Carl scattered throughout Fragility, so the only non-text put in are the documents that weren't photos, or the whole pages of images that were Carl related.]

Image, top left: Carl's jobseekers allowance claim from January 2002.

Image, top right: a torn piece of paper with Carl's address on it.

[Written on lined paper in Carl's handwriting, sideways at the bottom of the page.] Helium Casino Blanks trenchcoats Racketeers Buckaneers the streets you never have to walk alone cowslick in your eye greets us through the lonely ranks on the rails and up to Bank

Image, top right: Carl's visitor pass to the BBC for visiting Tina Turner.

Image: Peter's court summons for burgling Carl's flat.

Image, upside down, bottom of page: a typewritten caution to Carl for stealing a moped on 16 August 1998.

Image: a large photo of Carl, shirtless, playing guitar and singing.

[Image, top left: a fragment of lyrics and chords to Jail Guitar Doors by The Clash. Image, bottom right: a black and white photo of Carl in the original Albion Rooms, he is wearing a dark jumper and is looking down. There's a framed collage and a small gun or gun-prop on the wall behind him.] [Written in Peter's handwriting on white paper held in with silver tape.] 'Carlos Ashley Raphael Barât' snap of Biggles, that most photogenic of Libertines... The photograph you can see here on this page is from around 1998, t'was taken in the basement flat of 236 Camden Rd, the original 'Albion Rooms' Enjoy my friends (I'm sure the lad himself will...)

[Image, top left: a polaroid of Carl placing a cigarette in his mouth. Image, bottom left: a photo of Carl sitting on a couch with a cigarette in his hand, gesturing as he talks. There is a rifle leaning against the couch beside him and trash all over the floor. Image, bottom right, sideways: a photo of Carl onstage, singing. He's shirtless except for a tie.] [Written in Peter's handwriting on white paper taped in with silver tape, top right.] 3.00 am Paris 6th Jan 2004 Carlos... you came back to the hotel room. said you were gettin lonely. I was getting a familiar old feeling... when you go a'strollin' & a'drinkin' and dont come back for a week . . . .

[Image, top left: a photo of Carl in the doorway at Rough Trade, mostly in shadow. Image, centre left: a photo of Carl holding an infant Astile, posing with one hand behind his back. Image, bottom left: a photo of Carl in a white vest and a hat, looking over the edge of a balcony] [Written in Carl's handwriting, sideways on the right side of the page.] If you knew where id been, could feel what i'd seen you'd have been beside me, but no bother, all the same.

[Image, top left: a torn printout of the poem “For That He Looked Not Upon Her” by George Gascoigne. Image, top middle: a photo of fans jumping onstage at a Libertines gig. Image, top right: a photo of Carl standing in an alley. Image, centre left: a photo of Peter, Car, and others posing. Carl is in front, making an exaggerated smouldering expression at the camera. Peter is peering round his head. The other two people in the photo are obscured by other images. Image, centre middle: a photo of Carl onstage, shirtless, singing. Image, centre right: a torn photo of Carl. He is looking at the camera, possibly mid-speech; his hair is in his eyes. Image, bottom left: a torn photo of Carl onstage, shirtless and singing. Image, bottom middle: a photo of four men. Three of them are sitting on the stairs; one has on a black cap and has his head in his hand, one has dyed red hair and sunglasses, and one is not looking towards the camera. Carl is standing beside the stairs, looking at some papers in his hand. Image, bottom right: a fragment of a photo of Carl onstage, shirtless.] [The text of the poem by George Gascoigne, top left.] You must not wonder, though you think it strange, To see me hold my lowring head so low; And that mine eyes take no delight to range About the gleams which on your face do grow. The mouse which once hath broken out of trap Is seldom teased with the trustless bait, But lies aloof for fear of more mishap, And feedeth still in doubt of deep deceit. The scorched fly which once hath 'scap'd the flame Will hardly come to play again with fire. Whereby I learn that grievous is the game Which follows fancy dazzled by desire. So that I wink or else hold down my head, Because your blazing eyes my bale have bred.

[Image, top left: a photo of Carl wearing a grey shirt with "Playboy" written on it in reverse in white, red, and blue. He is looking at the camera with a neutral expression. Image, top right, sideways: a black and white photo of Carl in the original Albion Rooms. He is looking at the camera with an unfocused or mid-blink expression. Image, bottom left: a photo of Carl in front of a blue wall, talking to someone with a smile on his face and a cigarette in his hand. Image, bottom right: a photo of Carl onstage, playing guitar, wearing his red military jacket.]

[Image, top middle: a torn title of an article, reading “A devine Original”. Image, top left: a photo of Carl standing in an alley. Image, top right: a dim photo of Carl onstage, playing guitar. Image, centre right: a black and white photo of Carl wearing a hat, a white vest, and an unbuttoned collared shirt, looking to the right. Image, bottom left: a photo of Carl in a sleeveless collared shirt, posing, flexing his right arm and making a face. Image, bottom left: a torn piece of paper with a fragment of a poem from Order And Disorder by Lucy Hutchinson. Image, bottom right: a photo of a young Carl in a white collared shirt and dark tie, with the sleeves rolled up. He has a slight smile on his face.] [The text of the poem by Lucy Hutchinson, bottom left.] if I on thee a private glance reflect, confusion does my shamefull eyes deject Seeing ye man I Love by me betrayed by me who for his mutual help was made. Who to preserve thy life ought to have dyed & I have kill'd thee by my foolish pride, defiled thy Glory and pull'd down thy Throne oh! y! I had but sind & dyed alone, Then had my torture, & my woe been lesse I yet had Florished in thy happyness.

[Image, top left: a black and white photo of Carl peering at the camera. He is wearing a hat and looking at the camera with a neutral expression. Image, top right: a photo of Carl onstage, shirtless, singing and playing guitar. Image, centre left: a black and white photo of Carl in a hat, a white vest, and a dark unbuttoned shirt, posing and looking off to the right. Image, centre right: a photo of Carl in a grey shirt and a hoodie, looking off camera with a neutral expression. Image, bottom middle: a photo of Carl in the studio with headphones on and a flushed face. Image, bottom right: a polaroid of Carl, shirtless, making a face, seemingly in the middle of playing around. The photo has been damage around Carl's waist and the top of his head.]

[Image, top middle: a torn photo of something unidentifiable, perhaps a fireplace. Image, top middle: a sexy playing card, the three of hearts, featuring a woman in a red dress and red feather boa posing. Image, top right: a black and white photo of Carl sitting at a table with his head in his hand and his eyes closed. Image, centre right: a torn piece of a letter addressed to “Mr C Barat & Mr P Doherty Partners The Libertines”. Image, bottom left: a photo of Carl sitting on a couch, half-lit. Peter is sitting on a nearby chair or table mostly in shadow and is reaching over to hand Carl a card. Smoke from his cigarette hazes the image. Image, bottom right: a photo of Peter standing in an alley.]

[Image, bottom: a photo of a white and black stove. A small bucket or rubbish bin sits to the left of it.] [Written beside the photo] Agar stove Bilo & Biggles sat around writing Good old days in the not so good old days

Some mysterious devil plays us of against each other at opposite ends of hell. It is so hard to make amends. [Written on a white square of paper taped into the page.] a pare of mournful rebukes of her eyes and bruised dark lips. The girl cant help it

Paris Montmartre

Arthur there with a beard as all camera following me & my family around the Albion rooms and then...... "remember leeds, so giving us hell even when we've done our best interest to accomodate her" Carlos sits at the end of the double bed I share with the sleeping Alan Voss crammed all 3 are we in the 'Formula One' motel on the outskirts of Nantes. A french music video plays on the tele on the perch. It is Kate Ryan singing 'Libertine'! A wee burn of the brown stuff. Its crappy 'uplifting' housy-pop, euro pop. Alan whistles sleep through his nose. [Image: a drawing of random parts of a face in random order.] [Written in Carl's handwriting] spamagotcha #?*¡?=@! smakinamouth repertoi revue act 1 somewhere brown, cracks in the walls and stones. pigman ferretting around for bone in a dirty little matchbox. No joy there. [Written in Peter's handwriting] five a side goals, metal bars, punching school friends in the face. A rap on the door, tis Dialektik and the spectacled Stephan avec le van. Alan & Carl need more sleep so I venture to the studio, alone but full of good feeling for le day & the the boys. Nantes is village like in aspect, in the age of mechanisation it retains a rural air. coiffure Bernard Homeopathic. college petite laude. Le virginia

Arrive at the studio in the freezing cold to the strains of 'through the looking glass' with beelzebub playing fender rhodes over the ragged & beautiful version with myself on guitar, Alan on drums & Carlos on bass guitar.

[Written in Carl's handwriting.] Humdrum song of the sad rain EDC#B/ A /D piano G /A /D Bm A-Gm7 f# guitar Gmaj7 though shalt not kill

That was I you know who come up to my room & someone else - it was looking beautiful but someone commented on heroin. Then a party & everyone was there including my mum as her younger self with curly blond hair & a funny do it was all piled out like famous me duty. Tabith! remained tidying up? Before that festive house cards on the door looking to the darkly street. Woke up a wee restless all the french about Carlos commenting on everyones lack of joie de vivre. That would be that then wouldn't it. Alan calling in the troops who are all feeling groovy and we all listen to the final mixes of the 4 tracks we recorded two days previous. ta to dialektik and now 'ta ta' and adieu as we are to head to Holland. Alan, wunderkind, stalks the room, leaning up against the door, whistling. Carlos talks in hushed tones to a sweet girl skinny like her sister. I've spent the whole day on the sofa pretty much. Taking it in, mind. Carlos says 'Its only a short life.' - Is he trying to persuade her something? old Hollywood lover man. Torments in the night. sex pest. I wish someone would ruffle my hair or something give us a kiss an that. Narcissist is pretty fucking amazing - the best vocals I've ever heard Carlos sing actually. It is fucking good. Jesus it's a fine song... le monde, ha ha wall makes me cry.

It's cold on the motorway we're all freezing in the colder climes & [illegible] flight connect neglect. Ah and then golden brown on the stereo, soothes my aching belly defrosting lights like sparkles and all flashing before me Carlos silenced like a parrot coat over his head "Is it dark in there?" 'I dunno I cant see a fuckin thing man." Ice scrapings on the window, soul was frozen over for a while back then and a severe bout of wolf sickness. Barricade of bales and through the gaps stretch of iced fields. Not a good morning to be a French farmer if there ever was one... this handsome face multiplied by the presses from the depths of my 426 (I'm already beyond that) This story may not always seem artificial, and in spite of me you may recognize in it the call of the blood: the reason is that within my night I shall have happened to strike my forehead at some door, freeing an anguished memory that had been haunting me since the world began. Forgive me for it. This book aims to be only a small fragment of my inner life. she was so proud to make the pimp come.

February 2002 Montmartre Table shakes - the soul of the wine. Columbia on the stereo. The rattle of pans in the sink. Carlos is cooking dinner & I was flat on my back, silhouette. Recall the Rabbi stumbling for a drink in some backstreet pub near a motorway/railway bridge. Befriended a load of hardliners he did, whilst I ducked beneath the lilipads of a hotel boy. I am to have a son then it was scanned, a Lisa in tears awhile for my not contacting. 'candy gram for Mongo' Peter looked out of the Brassierie window 'I feel strange' he said 'You are strange' Carl added helpfully

[Written in Carl's handwriting] New Motion don't look back into the sun [Written in Peter's handwriting] you know as well as I it will never come [Written in Carl's handwriting] into nos tal gee [Written in Peter's handwriting] oh my friend you haven't changed your usual ways I thought we'd lost you You can be jonny & I'll be june stop fucking around with death at the disco (how queer) time will come coy with nostalgia can go jogging to die healthy

Merry Go Round

Innit funny, Biggles ventures to join me in the studio & even deigns to visit me in my home... on the eve of the tour How cynical has my heart become? Miss Hayley Kenneth has joined me in the fiercely overcrowded one room tenement flat. Evidently she has jacked in college & all else up north & for this... a candlewax model of Arcadia. Unfathomable is her countenance & unproven her power over me. Now even she pats the space beside her & beckons me - Carl lies sleeping on the sofa & I scribble here at the little

sensible studios. Trying to get a straight simple drumbeat never seemed so difficult Poor engineer or cruel engineer? To pity or be pain? Tis the question of the day the day as ever itself nearly 4 and where's Biggles?.. I may aswell to bed

Another day another pretty much perfect squalor of heart and profile upon the Bristol stage this very eventide past. Off the stage to soothing tides of comradeship & the very core of what was altogether a head fuck of a setup & Biggles knows and how keenly he feels the pinch too on these occasions: no other can.

It was the first one of the day it was the last one of the night hold me tight They said 'oh he's a wrong'un' but I could see in your eyes how you were gentle & wise (and you had the good stuff)

I know you better than that lad if you pack in the cracks & smack I'll be your might find me waiting for you with a love that's truer than true you cap my heart [illegible] a love the too many fools that are queuing up to be with you I write a song just to sing it darling I, really mean I gave my heart I know I'm a mess but I'll do my best to prove my love to you

This Charming Man

[Written in Carl's handwriting] Master for the Man the likely lads It was a jelly situation in the yellow heart of mine took some time to tell my belly with the milk of human kind? Now my lip it curls not my kind of world back on knees to the foily ruler

Consumption

The Likely Lads Doherty / Barât [Image: a drawing of an angry pig's face with breath coming out the nostrils. Image: a drawing of French Dog, facing away from the pig.] please dont get me wrong see I forgive you in a song they call the likely lads but if it's left to you I know exactly what you'd do with all the dreams we had blood runs thicker - we're thick as thieves you know please (if that's important to you) it's important to me pipe all summer long I tried to make you then get forgiven in see - but you a song dont wanna know that's a touch my lad oh what became but they sold the rights to of the Likely Lads? all my wrongs What became of and but when they needed the dreams we had? my new songs What became of forever? it's 'welcome back' (how sad) (we'll never know) [Written in Carl's handwriting] We all bought the one's we took. we toured we taught the world and wrote the songs there's the the dream we have, but wrap up all the wrongs and I will hold you for a song/so long you know you're not so bad. x

Arise in good spirits... well rested after yesterdays palava. I had come out of the live room to be greeted by the newly arrived Alan Magee bearing certain long-awaited gifts - the mythical digital recorder that all uses n robotic melody translate obsolete recording device which is not that which I described to swap cop this Biggles expressing a certain huffy sense of rivalry - inky like I leap back in time from here late at night in the silken canopied room of Lucie all gypsy like the occurrences. We made acquaintance in arcady and with ease conversation amidst all wild adventure fatigued, in Camden Frontline but'd look alright in a clash video, rudeboy with a Libertines soul. You know who, you know the sort - the one. The one you love, more than forever desire. oh you wanna be with them, now, reading this page aloud to you or bath or kissy kissy or so

Image, top left: a photo of Carl's bare back with “Libertine” in Japanese painted on it in black. The image has been brushed with white paint on the edges.

[Written in Carl's handwriting in gold gel pen.] Although I sit here on a vital page of my own potted history, sometimes lonely, sometimes not, I feel I write from afar. Just where or how I came to be here, I couldn't explain. Sometimes I dont know why, or maybe thats what I kid myself? However, the studio is sunny, the music is dulcet, my friends are here sharing a timeless pride. Mick is dancing [Image: a drawing of Mick Jones from behind, dancing with his hands up.] [Written in Peter's handwriting] How can you make us understand how Carl sounds like Jim Morrison but better when the penny drops

[Written in Carl's handwriting] NO → E dont dont be coy cuz I'm too clever I wont follow you down to the darkest stormy weather the bracket is wider now whats your pleasure ill see you on the other side but please....

[Written in Carl's handwriting on a piece of lined paper pasted into the journal.] I hear the things u say watched friendship fall away And it only leads to sorrow so lets be it as it may I meet people every day with thinking something they wont say I hear what all the bullies say lays on the grit hair turns grey and its such a sunny day oh its not any an easy game to play

[Written in Peter's handwriting] Dont look back into the sun Doherty/Barat [Image, top left: a drawing of a sun.] verses G / D / Em / D / C / D chorus C / G / C / D Dont look back into the sun now you know that your time is come and they said it would never come for you oh oh oh they'll never forgive you bit they won't let you go she'll never forgive you but she won't let you go [Written in Carl's handwriting] Don't look back into the sun you cast your pearls, but you're on the run & all the lies you said, who did you save? But then they played that song @ the death disco it started fast, but then ends so slow, and all the time just reminded me of you. they'll never forgive you but they won't let you go Barât / Carl

Stix & Stones

My fingertips filthy, blistered burnt and sliced... a tatty crossfire of plasters hold the end of my right index finger together. I slit it open by accident when I was pulling the razor blade out the razor to slice my chest up with t'other night. Ended up doin' one of the geetars over a monitor on the last night of Brixton, kicking Carl's amp over, showing 5,000 people my chest, blood fury, legging it through Brixton... was caught up with by my tour 'shadow' minder (Jeff) decided, topless & freezing in the street, to head back in. Cut myself a bit more and then rejoined the boys half-way through the Good Ol' Days. Heartless swines had done time 4 heroes without me!

you dont show your face no more I miss you man pal I miss you bad I miss this and I miss all the good times we had was digging out some old tapes we done winding melodies & reparties France writing general smuts & dont look back into the sun

Libertine

I showed no decorum I saw the photo you left on the forum hell had furys warning the photo was the happiest way that was today now they dont think I'm o.k now to them if I'm happy then I can't be o.k. I gave fair warning just to relieve your boredom you showed no decorum in my harem that day when I get round to si who will buy my beautiful roses who will buy my beautiful song?

in a bangkok bizarre 'no... you call each other Mr Spaniel'

You smile like a sickly child & with grace & guile You steal the shows embrace your foes keep your nose crystal clean & re-live the dream Your beautiful for an awkward second hot tin metal scars white pink petals all debts to the soul settled more or less.... could the gods care less? cruel motherfuckers they'll never stop us cant touch this

do you know me? I dont think so romanticize a dark & gloomy past trying to escape from the underclass Gm / Gm / Gm / A Bb / Dm / Bb / Dm you darken the bright & beautiful day your breakin' my heart in everyway don't tell me everything's dandy & fine you're no friend of mine I took you in & you stole from me but you still got everything I need you walkin' so tall & lookin so mean walkin so tall & lookin so mean.. don't tell me everything's dandy & fine...

The vehicle we travel in is soundproofed... the old siren manages to [obscured, water-stained] the eerie silence. If your ears were mine right now you'd imagine yourself to be in a country yard not an inner city. We head up the Camden Road now and past Delaney Mansions, where Carl & I once top n' tailed in our formative years of being absolute fucking disasters legends.

Befuddled

[Image, top right: a torn magazine photo of Peter and Carl onstage, sharing a mic. Peter is on the left and Carl on the right.] That partner- ship now otherworldly in its inception and left to fight another day is it aye I'm open to suggestion but the rules suggest it cannot be how many envision it to be or so

It is hard to measure how different I feel, another week will be even madder... strange new worlds of purity and clean living, ha! rock and roll! I feel sad now about Carl and his apparent heartache at the Sun article. It's his birthday today and I know I won't see him again for a while.It is hard to measure how different I feel, another week will be even madder... strange new worlds of purity and clean living, ha! rock and roll! I feel sad now about Carl and his apparent heartache at the Sun article. It's his birthday today and I know I won't see him again for a while. He whirls himself away somewhere into his mind, away from me and the hateful hurtful worlds he can imagine. I love him and wish I could tell him so, and wish him to believe it to be so.

Transparent

I showed no decorum saw the post you left on the forum was like a photograph of a happier way that was today now everythings o.k now but to them if I'm happy then things just cant be o.k but I gave fair warning just to relieve the boredom I went & spoke to Gordon he was a goalkeeper from Feltham oh I show no decorum L.A saw the post you left on the forum it was a photograph of our happiest day...

I've been running after you too long your trying not to see how you dont see me how you dont need me

people who just look a nasty way of biting your back- talk to me about the way you thought. The importance of not being too earnest. There is a, always will be a natural, incomparable chemistry between the Spaniels. Sidelong glances that evolved over centuries of late night riff sculpturing and misgiving, petty grievance & synchronized handshakes. All the strength one can muster, even to open the door. The words rattle out of her boney face, ramming at my ears, [illegible] me through of tears & fears such is the numbing effect of the incessant Babble. At least if it's too the face one can defend oneself. Sometimes if it appears that you dont care... apparently I cant see it. so devious? underneath it all so cold blooded & nasty? The reason being that I 'don't express myself that much' This do indeed get misunderstood

Words, long ago building a dream what's worthless to the past is priceless to the last

they meant it and so, so it was meant to be ... they've all got it in for me so someone'll have to pay someone'll have to... great save me from what I want "————" need saw the face it's gone it's gone and wont given [illegible] gone and won't be coming back undone the whole shebang, a plan planned it out on a towel all the guys are going back oh & aye plan A not goin for intimacy riffle and I know what it meant to be all got it in for me oh they call 'em the Libertine oh they aint Libertines

A' Rebours

[Written in the margin of a very cluttered page] (Aye, Carlos) (I, Carlos) ([Image: a doodle of an eye and a car.])

Remember Banni sitting us down in a Notting Hill bar, on comfy sofa, and with some urgency rattling off a spiel about how we must project an impeccable image as a band suits she said suits!

The Libertines carry on without me it seems - even to Australia! christ... how to carry this weight? what's he up to that troubled man? There's having the [illegible] & proving something (whatever that is [illegible]) and then... then there's fucked up torture techniques cruelty and amputation. If I do get not guilty on the 10th of August for the flick knife palava then I'll end up inside anyway for strangling Biggles. I jest of course... his accursed brains would serve my peace of mind well if all over a monitor speaker they were mashed. given that he does not seem to offer me any of the love & friendship & loyalty that he tells the world of in these NMEs nearby. Then again, I would rather he could retain his giant pink [illegible] in that coked up paranoid 'sexiest rock star' head of his, and just stop this Libertines-without-Peter charade that for some reason breaks my heart all lately. If he will not open the door to me then stop playing my songs. It's hideous, hideous, tenuous? A flash then of a [illegible] hanging on my final words.

From Albion To Shangri-La

Oddly enough, I am back at the hotel with Stef of original 'Alf and Stephanie' fame. Their friendship disintegrated quicker than you can say 'Pete + Carl' a couple of years ago, after hemlock escorted the pair of them aboard the good ship Albion one oblivion-dashed New Years Eve

I'm on the balcony at Adelphi Terrace, just off the Strand. I think of Embankment Gardens, down there below me and the river Thames, a stone's throw beyond. I do not feel sentimental. I just fondly recall times when Carlos and I would loiter about these side-streets. Acting out for each other in the mini amphitheatre round. Our ever present guitars rattling out new compositions. We believed them to be masterpieces. It would turn out to be accurate – innocently arrogant and brimming over with belief in each other and in our unseen allies out there in the city.

Typecast

[...] flashy flashy all the while as it fat stub speaker raises its wireless voice and tickles the beagled morning with aplate of the geetar from me new tune - Hell to pay at the gates of Heaven. Carl reckons its yet to be written and that he is the man with the middle 8 and the je ne sais qua to put this lil' kontry armaggedon balled to bed for the winter. Bursting with all the joys of spring it'll be come harvest festival etc etc.

Doing this thing with John Cale – which I Haven't as yet actually done as I'm a day late for rehearsals.. He himself – Carl I mean, not John, I say he himself like that because I was just picturing him akipp' upstairs in the spare room, me dear Ol' mucker and one of the few who knows me from when I was meself alright then let8s get straight to the heart of the matter

“I think it's time for bed, ” says Carl, “I think it's time for your loves and hates ..” says Peter Carl takes a slash. Hates.. 1 Hatred “how I loathe it” 2 Injustice 3 Crass idiocy 4 Fear 5 Helplessness 6 “myself” …. 7 a great hatred for complicity and blinker'dness to beauty 8 The sound of a glass being filled 9 cardashians and sundry false idols 10 the darkside Carloves 1 Intoxication 2 Orgasm 3 liberty 4 bakewell Tart with tea, builders tea 5 Escape 6 the pay-off 7 p pokey 8 melancholia 9 self-betterment 10 family

Miscellaneous

Seen Dean on the save at the bar / had a jar / Carl is away with the famous Libertines in Brazil it would seem. As ever now The Libertines is run-off my radar screen. I know nothing about it I am left no choice but to give all my life & living breath to Babyshambles and the great push for infinity

My dearest Jiggle down dawson. This is Catalonia. You get them all down here. I only really want to see one man though, My dearest old bejiggled soul.Tender is this nightt, and hyde parkey beckoneth. Strange town and-affect and that's a northern soul drum intro and a half.... bum da bum bum bum indeedy diddily doo

Carl alone in the room, talking intimately with Missus we butt into the conversation and hear Carl say, off handedly “yeah I know what you mean its like when people ask you how you are are...” Peter enters “Carl whispers goodbyes etc I'll call you back”... Carl looks at flash new wtch “[illegible] oand P: “I just been to get some dog food “How are you?holds up tripe cut to music hall pupple Carl “Its like.. imagine seeing life in a spectrum at the top is clear crystalline glass and blue sky hashtag no filter (stops, emphasizes..) NO filter” continues in a reverie “tilt your head a little, and start seeing [illegible] of a sunset -kodak moment.. a glass of chardonnay, but it's getting hazy “ Silence Carl: “can you see it?” P thinks “what a wise person” Internal dialogue of Peter : “I dont want a baby that Carl: looks like that Carl continues “can you see it it's getting darker it's the kerb, blood teeth , dog meat piss, kebab darker and you know the hammer is about to fall a reebok classic on the back of your skull do you get it...?

#the libertines #peter doherty #carl barat #pete doherty

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boglady · 3 years ago

Text

Settling for fine in season 2 of Ted Lasso

I was really struck by the moments in the the most recent episode when the characters say that things are fine, when they're clearly not, and it reminded me of Roy's line in 2.01 about how Rebecca shouldn't "dare settle for fine." So, because I'm obsessed with this show, I gathered the moments in this season, where characters use the word fine (which is at least once per episode, it turns out).

2.01

Roy (to Rebecca): "He's fine. That's it. Nothing wrong with that, most people are fine. But it's not about him. It's about why the f*ck you think he deserves you. You deserve someone who makes you feel like you've been struck by f*ckin' lightning. Don't you dare settle for fine."

2.02

Ted (about Higgins hiring Sharon):

"No, 1,000% false! I mean, you're a busy man! Whatever path you think is best is gonna be best! Still, next time you have plans, I want you to run 'em by me first. Okay?"

"No, I will not."

"Good! Why should you? I ain't your daddy. Okay, great. We got ourselves a new member of the team. That's fine."

2.03

Rebecca and Nora at the princess themed afternoon tea.

"Don't know what I was thinking. You're not six anymore, are you?"

(sighing) "It's fine. Really."

"Should we go somewhere else though?"

"Yes."

2.04

"Yo! Can I get an ussie?"

Roy: (sighing) "Fine."

2.05

Higgins: "And I've been married to her for 29 years. I suppose... the best brand is just being yourself."

Rebecca: (blowing a raspberry and sighing) "It's fine." (swallows half a biscuit)

2.06

Ted (about Roy not coaching Jamie): "Hey, Roy. You know you're paid to coach the whole team, right?"

"No, no, that's fine. Just take 4% off my paycheck."

Ted (struggling to help Higgins through a window): "Yeah, you're gonna come in through here. That's fine. I got you. Just... Do you wanna... Dukes of Hazzard style, or as you guys probably call it, 'the Earls of Risk'. Just go round. Uh, yeah. Why don't you come legs first? You wanna... You wanna jump in? You'd be in here if you just went round. Ready? Here he comes."

Higgins: "Right... I'm just gonna stay here."

Ted: "That's fine. Good idea. Probably best."

Jamie to Roy: "I am an ugly, ugly boy... (sighing). With hair that maybe could be slightly... With... With bad hair, fine!"

2.07

Sharon: "How are you, Ted?"

Ted: "I'm swell, as well as fine and dandy. How about you, Doc?"

2.08

Roy: "Can I be the dragon this time?"

Phoebe: "No."

Roy: "Fine. But you better have fixed the wand."

Ted (about Sharon's apartment): "Well, you know what, I'll just say that it's fine and move on."

Ted: "You know, you had quite the scare today."

Sharon: "And my job is teaching people how to overcome what happened to me. I'm fine, thank you."

Ted (in Kermit voice): Have you been feeling dizzy or nauseous? That's what it sounds like when you laugh."

Sharon (clearing throat): "I'm fine, Coach Lasso."

2.09

Ted: "Hey, now, look. I know, I know, I know. But this is how we get better, all right?"

Beard: "Fine."

2.10

Sassy (to people weirded out by her and Keeley's joyous hug): "You're fine. Keep walking." (scoffs)

Rebecca: "Fine, you really want to know? Because I am so sick of keeping secrets. Dad cheated on you, and I saw it. When you were away, and I was meant to be staying the night with Sassy. I even remember the date. It was Friday the 13th, 199..."

2.11

Ted to Sharon (annoyed): "Okay, well, fine. I'll read your stupid-ass letter."

Ted (about Rebecca sleeping with Sam: "Right, okay. Just checking. Okay, well, you know, I think that's great. Hold on. Wait. No... Yes. Yeah, I do. No, I think that's fine."

Keeley (after Nate kisses her): "That's okay."

Nate: "No, it's not."

Keeley: "Yes, it is. Don't worry about it. No. No, it's fine..."

Roy: "How was suit shopping with Nate?"

Keeley: "Yeah, it was fine."

2.12

Ted: “Nate will be fine.“

and

Keeley: “Roy. I love you. We’ll be fine.”

#Ted Lasso

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myhauntedsalem · 3 years ago

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Real EMTs Share True Ghost Stories

Together Forever

“I’ve had a couple of weird calls. One was a major MVA-head on many, many years ago when we played M.E. as well. We had 2 DOA (husband and spouse) that were killed instantly in a head on collision. They had a 12-year-old daughter that was in between them and they actually took the impact, saving her life.

While en route, we noticed the husband’s arm had come loose so I went back to re-strap it. As I was doing that, the wife’s arm suddenly fell out as well, and her hand fell into her husband’s. My boss was watching in the rear view mirror and helped clear the way as I ran back into the front. It spooked both of us. Apparently the couple (mid 30’s), had just found out he was cancer free after his last treatment.”

Will I Go to Heaven?

“Had a young woman in full liver failure. She was orange in color and she was still conscious. She asked me what I thought it would be like to die. I told her I didn’t know but I hoped it wouldn’t be painful. She then asked me if I thought I would go to heaven. I told her that I believed I would. She asked me if I thought she would go to heaven, and I told her I wasn’t able to answer that question.

She then told me ‘I am going to heaven and I know it,’ and I asked her how she knew that and she told me something that I will never ever forget. She told me ‘I know I am because that man over there told me so.’ I asked what man and she said the man sitting on the end of the bench. I asked her what he looked like and she said ‘he looks just like the Jesus on the windows of my church.’

Well, to tell you I was pretty well affected by that statement. She then went on to say ‘And he says that you are going to go to heaven too.’

We then prayed and I will never forget that interaction between the two of us. About a week later she passed away. I hope she made it to heaven.”

Otherworldly Screams at the ER

“I have had fellow coworkers swear that strange things have occurred in the ER. Two people that I work with were charting at the nurses station when they both heard a scream followed by incoherent words come from one of our open bays. There were three patients in the room and they denied screaming or hearing anything. I have also had fellow coworkers talk about hearing strange voices especially after really bad codes and one person states she felt someone grabbing her shoulder after the doc pronounced a trauma code. These are all respectable people and I do not think they would lie.”

666

“We responded to a ‘sick call’ at about 4 a.m. Dispatch said he was a hospice patient with a history of cancer who had not eaten for a couple of days and had pulled out his medication port. We get there and it’s this poor guy in his early 40’s who is bald from chemo and sitting on his brother’s couch. His skin was blotchy, pale and purple, and he was hyperventilating and diaphoretic. His sis-in-law said he had been pacing from the bed to the couch all night, clearly agitated.

We went out to get the stretcher, and when we came back in he had crapped himself. He just kept saying, ‘Oh… ooooh. No. No. Oooh’ and looking around the room, flinching every now and then like he was waving away flies. We got him to sit on the stretcher, and he said, ‘No, not now!’ We assured him and rolled him out. The medic I was with asked me to get DNR papers, because, ‘He’s doing it right now.’

I walked up to his bro and sis-in law, got the papers, and returned just in time to see him cry a couple of big tears, sob a little, and then crumple. I had to tell his brother he had passed (not easy to see a man drop to his knees in a driveway and wail). Then I got in and prepared to drive to the ER. As I wondered if the man would go to Heaven, I got a bad feeling, like darkness was creeping all around us. I happened to look down at the volt-meter and I saw the number 666 flashing. This panel normally doesn’t flash at all, it just reads voltage. It went 666, then .1, then 666 then .1, then 666 then .1 and then it went back up to 1200 or so and stayed that way. The uneasy feeling went away, but I still prayed the whole way to the hospital. I felt sick as hell all that day, and had a violent vomiting spell later on.

The Haunted Ambulance Company

“This is a true story about an ongoing haunting that is occurring in Richmond, Virginia at a local ambulance company located just off Broad Street near the Willow Lawn Shopping Center. My 25-year-old son-in-law has been working at this company as an Emergency Medical Technician for approximately a year now and he comes home weekly with new haunting stories.

The small brick building was once a warehouse of some type, and during a fire many years ago several people were trapped inside and died. They were Hispanic migrant workers who apparently slept in the warehouse. It is now used as an ambulance company and during the 24 hour shifts, EMT people are required to spend the night in the building. There is also a dispatcher who is always on duty, even during the night hours.

When my son-in-law first went to work there, he wondered why the sleeping cots were set up in the smaller room rather than the larger bunk room. He was told that the larger room was haunted and if people tried to sleep there, they’d feel cold hands on them in the night. He didn’t know whether to believe this or not, but he did notice that whenever he worked a 24 hour shift and slept there, he had very bad nightmares and he’d wake up to a cold tingling feeling running up and down his spine.

They think there are at least two ghosts in the building. The first is an aggressive one who bangs the chain on the bay door, walks around the bay area, slams doors, and puts his cold hands on people. The other is a woman has also been seen in the office area. She was sighted recently when two ambulance workers walked by the office window and saw a short, dark-haired woman in the office. Not recognizing her, they went back to find out who she was but there was no one there.”

#Real EMTs Share True Ghost Stories #shared stories #paranormal #ghost and spirits #ghost and hauntings #haunted salem #myhauntedsalem

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thejosh1980 · 3 years ago

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Little Wing

(Trigger warning: animal/pet death)

Today, right now, I am sat at the spot where Mijo felt his last sunrise, just 24 hours ago.

He was 28 weeks old, he spent 20 of those weeks with me, and my family. He was my family. He was thrust upon me by my wife and mum, who knew Mijo would be the kind of birthday present I'd want, but could never ask for.

When he arrived he was unexpected. Straight from the car, into my bedroom, onto my lap, what a surprise, it was love at first sight. Those eyes, that tail, that round belly, the fur, I was all in. I had to say goodbye to 4 beautiful pets whom I loved dearly when I left Germany, so then and there I made a quiet, whisper promise to Mijo;

“I'll never ever leave you”...

We began like any other Daddy and cat story, playing, eating, talking to each other. We may have made a few messes on the bed learning to potty train, but I couldn't really fault him, he was perfect. He loved cuddles, got under our feet all the time, talked to us a lot and wanted to be a part of everything happening around the house.

He meowed very loudly too. Sometimes he'd meow from the next room sounding lost and worried. That's when I started to realized something was very different about him. It took about 2 weeks, but then I realized, he was totally deaf!!!! No vacuum cleaner, loud bangs, claps, or door slams could get his attention. When he meowed loudly, it was either because he had to, to feel himself meowing in his head, or he was missing us and could smell us, but not hear us in the next room. I had never had a cat who couldn't hear me call their name, so this was going to be a challenge.

Mijo accepted that challenge...

In a short time I figured out how to clicker train him, using a torch. I love training cats. Most folks think it's impossible, but I've taught cats to fetch, sit and come on command in the past.... So, pretty soon I had him jumping up, over and across chairs and tables on cue. I also learnt a way to “call” him; assuming he could see me, if I knelt down and tapped my leg, he'd come a running. Every time. We had it all figured out.

Grab a harness and a lead, and off we go, walking around the garden. This wasn't a cat, this was a dog. He had very little fear, I mean, he couldn't even hear the birds making a racket or the car driving by or the dog barking next door. He was fixated on me.

I bought him a blow up boat, to use in the pool, to help him get used to floating on water. It was a huge boat for his little size, but he'd hop in, and I'd “treat” him while he got used to the motion. The plan was to build him up to a real boat, or canoe or SUP. I could imagine him walking on water.

He was also great with other cats, so I could take him to visit his cousin and they'd play all day (if we'd let them). He'd come with me to visit other family and then... well, then the real adventures started. Mijo and I could go to the river, the park and the beach. We also went for coffee at the busiest part in the local village, and he took it all in his stride. We took bike rides too, as he sat in a special backpack I had for him. I could hold him while skateboarding or put him on my shoulder as I walked around. He was chill, happy to see and smell his silent world.

When Alex or I came home, and he'd be in the bedroom snoozing or gazing out the window, we could come in, take off our shoes, put our stuff down, maybe run to the loo, then we could snuggle up with him, cause he hadn't heard us arrive. He would just be waiting... He'd just wait for someone to step close enough, blow on his ear, feel a vibration and then he'd meow a big BIG hello, purr and snuggle. He was a no pressure cat... But always ready for hugs and pats.

Besides being deaf, he just didn't seem like any other cat I'd had or even met...

But isn't the way it is with all pets? They're all unique.

He loved Alex. He always had a hard decision between my lap and hers, or sleeping close to one or the other. We had a son to take care of, to love and to enjoy. At the beginning, Alex wasn't sure about having a cat, she'd pretty much always been a dog person, but it didn't take long for Mijo to wrap her around his little paw. She was hooked.

We thought he was going to be grow up to become a big boy. You know, Maine Coon sized 5-6 or maybe 7 kilo. We had high hopes for a dog-like cat, big enough to take on the world. We wanted to show him the world too.

After he had his snip (desexing) in mid March, he wasn't very well, and it really traumatized all of us, we just weren't sure why he took it so badly. He was in a lot of pain, even though the operation itself was quick and really good, with no issues. He would spend the day, in his “bread loaf” position, with his nose to the ground. It was like he was conserving all his energy for when we came home or wanted his attention.

Eventually, after a few weeks he bounced back, back to being his usual self, for a while. He actually lost a lot of fur during this time, most likely due to a reaction to the antibiotics and pain killers. Where his collar and harness were, he lost all his hair. It only took a few days, a bit too quick to realize what was going on, he rarely wore the collar or harness after that. It meant we sometimes lost him in the house without his bell on to tell which room he was in, so I'd be running around turning on and off the lights to get his attention and a meow.

It was our fun game of “Mijo Polo”.

We had noticed he wasn't eating as much, and he wasn't as playful. In fact, all his toys were being ignored, and he rarely chased anything we teased him with. When we took him for playtime with his cousin, he wouldn't last as long play fighting. Something was up, we thought he'd bounce back by now.

Overall, he was a very chilled cat, having just had an operation and now with, ringworm, a tooth problem (one adult tooth was causing him problems and needed to be pulled) maybe that was why he wasn't too interested in food. Surely it wasn't bacteria, an infection or a virus in his blood.

In early May, Mijo developed ringworm, which, by the way, isn't a worm but rather a fungal infection. The vet already had us on anti fungal cream day and night. It's very unusual to get ringworm; it's all around us, but a strong immune system, actually, a decent immune system, would fight off any infection naturally. Cats generally just lick it all off their fur. Humans sometimes get it, from a scratch or a wound. It's in the soil, it's in the air.

When we got the treatment for the ringworm, we also gave him an appetite stimulant, to encourage him to eat, but it made little difference. As nothing changed, we went back to the vet a few days later, and did a hypothyroidism test; the results were borderline.

What could be going on?

At the time of his desexing operation, he was 1.7 kilos, a week later he was down to 1.5 and eventually 1.45 kilo. His body was growing a little, but his muscle and fat wasn't.

We talked to the vet and decided, even though his ringworm was infectious, the tooth had to go, sooner rather than later. It seemed logical that it was his biggest barrier to fulfilling his dietary requirements and his well being. We wanted him fattening up, growing up, and being his usual self again, ASAP. We needed to get him back on track towards good health, enough was enough.

On Monday 17th May I dropped the little guy off at the vet for the day. A check up and a tooth pull.

Before any cat gets an anesthetic, they run a simple blood test to determine if the cat is well enough. During the day we got a call that the operation couldn't happen, and that he'd have to stay in over night or longer, with meds to help him, because his red cell blood count was low. 10%. Most cats need around 40%, if there's any complication with the tooth pull, his blood may not clot.

It's official, he was very unwell.

I was at school when I got the news. I was in shock. Our little boy was that unwell? But he does eat (a little), he does walk on the lead with me, he's eating his treats... was he that unwell?

Suddenly we had to decide on some expensive tests to figure out what was wrong with him. I mean, the red blood cells were being eaten up by the white ones, but why?? We arranged the suggested tests and they kept him in over night.

I was very distraught. How can my little guy be so unwell yet behave well? With that blood count, he shouldn't be able to walk, he should be so lethargic that he can't keep his head up!! He should be in a coma.

All in all, theoretically, he should be dead.

So was it dwarfism, hypothyroidism, mycoplasma??? And and and?? Tests... Blood being taken.. Our boy in the vet over night, alone, worried, scared??? Will he make it through the night? I didn't sleep well...

On Tuesday afternoon the vet let us bring him home. His blood level was down to 9.1%. The idea was that, at least at home he'd have cuddles and love, and that might help his immune system. He was lethargic but not completely terrible. I would need to bring him in on Wednesday for another blood test, to see how he was doing.

On Wednesday, it didn't go well, Mijo had gone from 9 to 8.1% blood level. It was now becoming almost impossible to get any blood out of him. I saw how difficult it was 2 weeks earlier when he had the hypothyroid test, they had to try on both legs and his neck to get a half mil of blood! He was a champ and barely complained. But now, I couldn't imagine the pain he went through with even less blood.

He's been that sick for how long?? Why hadn't we noticed?

We were panicking.

The vet suggested we meet with a mature, more experienced doc, on Thursday. We should be able to figure something out, we had to. Each day = less blood = more chance of...

Well, I am a hopeful guy. I realize, I live on hope. I spent years hoping certain people in my life would change, or love me in a way that I feel some love. I always hope things will change for the better. I don't know why, but it's ingrained in me to feel hopelessness or hope... I think I'm never in the middle... or is that called acceptance? OK, maybe I do feel that too, eventually... But it takes a long long time...

I have videos of Mijo on Thursday 20th, he's cleaning himself in the sun, meowing and purring, happy to see me, walking around the garden with me. Full of life and adventure.

At lunch time, Mijo and I go to the vet. He is his usual cute self, always curious at the vets, and now there's a the new guy he's meeting, what an adventure.

Before he opens the cat box he said something along the lines of “Well, because his blood levels are so low, today is really about deciding if he goes to heaven or not...” I'm not sure, but I know I heard words like “heaven” and “euthanasia” early on in the consultation. Shock was setting in. I barely heard anything else he said, luckily we had Alex on the speaker phone.

Turns out, not only is our little guy deaf, he's an anomaly.

Any cat with 8.1% should be comatose. They should barely be able to walk. They certainly can't pee or poo without help and don't drink or eat much. Mijo came out of his box and sniffed around, was alert and ready to meet the new guy!!

The vet was stumped. He had never seen this before, in over 30 years...

We didn't know he was so sick, because, he was, overall, a well behaved cat. His weight he lost, sure, but he was now at least stable. He was eating, it just took a lot of creativity sometimes to spark his interest (mostly warming up meals and giving him treats).

The vet tried to explain to me, but I'm sure Alex on the phone understood it clearly, that we had very little time, well, no time. We had 3 choices that day. Go to a specialist an hour's drive away, give Mijo steroids and hope he had mycoplasma or Immune mediated hemolytic anemia (IMHA) or, lastly, euthanasia.

Wait???? What does that even mean??

The specialist would give him a blood transfusion, and some special custom drugs which should help him. The vet said it could cost in the 10s of thousands, and may help Mijo for a few weeks, but it's not a solution that we are sure would be long term or not.

Giving Mijo steroids would give him a fighting chance, or not... Basically it could cure or kill him. Because we aren't sure what is the cause of the low blood count, it could be IMHA, mycoplasma or something else, but it's a best educated guess at this rate. If it is the wrong choice, he may die quicker than expected.

Euthanasia, no explanation needed.

We decided on steroids. According to the vet, there was a 50/50 chance it would work. If the cause of the blood cells killing off each other was for or against steroids, we'd know soon enough. Still shocked I tried to understand it all. I'm so grateful Alex was on the line and knows this stuff through experience and study.

The idea of taking Mijo an hour's drive north to the specialist, to a cubicle, a place where we may not be with him 24/7, on the off chance that he wouldn't make it and die alone, we couldn't fathom that.

Mijo took the steroid injection like a champ, he always did injections well. He was given some antibiotics to also help. The vet said, that by Saturday we'll know if it was the right decision. We'd know if he would be getting better...

It was decided that on Monday 24th we'd go back in for a blood test to actually see if the steroids were working (cause apparently one can't really tell with Mijo's behavior, the cheeky monkey).

Mijo and I came home, and well, he ate, he was purring, sitting on my lap. The usual deal. When I went out to get the washing in, he tried to go out too, something we, as parents, have been very protective about. He doesn't go out alone, he doesn't go out without a lead or a bell. He's not an easy cat to find if he runs off, not that he has ever tried. He deaf, he can't hear cars or other dangers out there.

I promised him I'd take him out to that side of the house/garden that afternoon...

So we did, we went out, we sat down, he explored. He was well, good, better, best. He was my boy. He trusted me, I trusted him. I'm always amazed how well he walks by my side, like a dog, with loose leash... Taking my steps as cues when to walk, and when to stop.

We also met the neighbor's dog, which was a first, both were not really interested in each other... But still, Mijo knew there's a lot to live for...

Overnight he went great... Woke up with him on my chest relaxing waiting for me to get up and feed him, luckily I have a wife who had to get up for work at that moment. I remember she sang him a lullaby and held him like a baby. It was really sweet to see how much love they had for each other. Rock-a-bye Mijo...

We wanted to him feel as much love as we could. We felt that, if the steroids and antibiotics were doing their part, and we did ours, there's nothing he can't beat. And he sure felt the love...

I held him while doing some singing exercises, close to my chest. It was something we hadn't done before, and he purred. He'd look up and meow every time I stopped making vibrations. He felt it, I felt it, it was a connection.

We spent a lot of time, reading, relaxing and sitting on laps. Alex and I cuddled him, told him we loved him. He was really fighting. He was eating. He was a little more playful than in recent weeks. He wanted to live. We could feel it...

He went from eating half a packet to 1.5 packets a day, plus dry food. He always wanted treats, and I was always glad to oblige.

By Saturday he was wonder cat! Kneading... Purring... Chasing toys... Eager to hang out...

We'd overcome the problem! He was getting better. There's fight, love and life left in him. He was amazing. If it hadn't been for his ringworm (which was also healing very very well) I'd say he was perfect, especially once he put on another few grams...

We had 4 awesome days, loads of energy and love. He was never alone in the house, and rarely alone in a room. We wanted him to know, to feel, that we loved him so deeply and that all we want was him in our life, for adventures and cuddles.

On Monday morning, his appetite went down... He didn't really eat much...

We all left for the day, work and school. I think we were all worried, but he'd been so good and improved so so much, that we were sure he'd be fine. We have the blood test booked for the afternoon, I'm sure he'll pep up by then. The injection could be wearing off too...

Mijo and I went in to the vet, and his test came back at 14%!!! Damn, that's 6 points!! The vet expected 3 to be a big improvement. In fact, if he had 3 or less, euthanasia may have been the only option... Happy days! He was well. He's going to live! He'll be fine.

We're not out of the woods yet, but we are in the right direction.

All that love we lavished on him, not just in the past days, but the past 4 months. The adventures, the friends he'd made (both human and animal) the smells and sights he'd seen, the vibrations he felt, it was all coming together... He was a fighter with a lot of love to give...

We were over joyed. Really, I couldn't have been happier when I got the results. I gave a “whoop” and threw my fist in the air (I've never done that before in my life!).

We changed to tablet form steroids, as they'll be better long term, keep up the antibiotics and off we go...

But we all know, that often people and animals, when they know they are dying, they give it one last shot. And that was it... We didn't realize until Wednesday, that he wasn't actually going to get better...

Mijo stopped grooming himself, he slowly ate less and less... He became more and more lethargic, he started to sit in the “bread loaf” position with his nose on the ground, as he did after the snip, resting. We thought it was the change in steroids, and as I was at school and the girls at work, we just kept thinking he'd pep up eventually.

When I left for school Wednesday morning, he was alert, but lethargic. When I came home early to check on him, he had really changed again.

His belly was a little bloated, but he had hardly eaten. He had trouble walking, it seemed like it was a mix of muscle degradation/pain and confusion. His meowing changed to a high pitch cry, similar to that of a young kitten. He also stopped eating, he wouldn't even touch any of his tasty treats. He searched for any bit of sun to stand in, but he was looking so uncomfortable, his posture had changed, half sitting, half standing. I was grateful, when I carried him to his water bowl, that he drank a lot. He also went to the toilet, I held his tail so he didn't make a mess on himself.

We spent the afternoon outside, as the sun started to set. He loved the sun, I wanted him to feel warmth... I held him, talked to him. I don't know now many times I asked him to please hold on, please fight and that I loved him. He looked more comfortable in the sun.

I did film us walking around the pool. I am forever grateful for technology, so that I could just put my phone down, touch a button and record a moment. As we walked and talked, oblivious to the camera, I recognized a change in his breathing... I may have missed it previously, but for sure, his breath was becoming more and more labored. Every 3 or 4 breaths, he just had to try harder... His eyes were changing too... But I was sure he could recognize me, the way the vibrations from my chest reached his body and the way I smell. He would react from time to time, shifting or clawing at me.

He often touched my chest with his paw. Reaching out...

Mum and I went to the vet late Wednesday afternoon, the earliest we could. I explained it must be the change of steroids. No, it wasn't. They were the same type, it was just that he wasn't able to fight anymore. We discussed the specialist, called them and made a plan to go in first thing in the morning. I arranged for a friend to come with me, and Thursday morning bright and early, we were going up to get Mijo cured. Transfusion, drugs, you name it, we were going to do it. We had to, we told him we'd make him better.

There and then, Alex and I decided to trade in our honeymoon, you know from the wedding we had 13 months ago and still haven't done the traditional thing of a week or two away somewhere. We decided the money we had aside for that, would go to Mijo's specialist costs, because without Mijo, our honeymoon, whatever and whenever we decide to do it, wouldn't be worth doing, if he wasn't around.

I made a firm plan on how to help him through the night. We would hold him in shifts... All 3 of us... If one showered, the other held him. Dinner time, we shared the responsibility, not that we ate much anyhow. We cuddled, we talked, we purred, I would blow gently on his head... He was feeling love and he was fighting...

Because he hadn't eaten all day, we decided to try feeding him with a syringe, with success. With the tablets we were putting into his stomach, I felt he needed something else down there too... With a small syringe, he took it well, lapping up a tasty liquid treat.

When it was bed time, we put pillows around the bed, incase he fell, because he was very wobbly on his feet. He would cry out at random times, possibly from pain, but I think more from confusion. He sometimes wanted to get away from us, as we know, pets know when it's time and usually disappear, isolate.

We barely slept. I managed about 3 hours... But it was tough.. He wouldn't stay still, and eventually we put him in his little bed, near our bed... Of course he didn't stay there long.

At 4am I heard him crying... I found him under the bed... Alex woke up too... His breathing had changed a lot... Every breath was labored. He wasn't getting enough oxygen.

I laid on my back, and Mijo laid on my chest. This was how it often was, especially when I was reading... We did that until around 7am... Alex taking turns, holding him, talking to him, loving him. Mijo could barely hold himself up, he just laid in our arms... Breathing... His eyes began to glaze over...

We discussed our options, we felt the specialist was now a long shot. We didn't think he'd make the drive, he was near the end. Our little man had little fight left... And we wouldn't forgive ourselves for him dying in a foreign place. There were a lot of tears and back and forwards, including mum coming in for cuddles with the little guy at 5am...

Alex called the emergency vet, and we planned to go in at 8:30... Mijo's time had come...

When the sun comes up, if the blind is open in our bedroom, the sun shines right on through to Alex in bed, Mijo was in her arms, while she drank coffee as the sun rose.

Sometime later I took the little guy out to the pool, where we walked and talked, cuddled and loved, around and around, in the morning sun. I talked to him about all the adventures we had, riding bikes, visiting people, the beach and the river. I spent most of that hour, holding him, looking to his eyes... He gazed up, I just hope he knew it was me. I just knew he felt the vibrations of my words.

We both told him, it was OK to let go now. We were ready. But he kept on fighting for each breath... I think he was just like his Dad, always hopeful..

He last moments at home, where in the chair I'm sat in now. It gets the best light, first thing, even though it's inside the “catio”. Alex had sat down while I was walking outside, I seem to do better when I walk, and I brought him in for cuddles with her in the sun... He was bathed in sunshine, in Alex's arms... It was beautiful...

Actually getting in the car and going to the vet, was tough, but it really hit me when I walked in. I held the little guy, and just burst into middle-aged-man tears and sobbing... If you were there, you'd know I was my mother's son, cause she was sobbing too... I couldn't look anyone in the eye... I didn't understand what was going on, or about to go on...

I think I was in another place...

We went into a consult room, and I just laid the little guy down, not thinking of using the blanket we had... The vet explained the procedure and took him away for his catheter and first injection, some anesthetic? I don't know, but apparently it was the right thing, it helped with his pain.

I couldn't even look Alex or Mum in the eye... I just cried...

I still had hope...

When they came back, Mijo was wrapped in a soft blanket, what a great idea...!! He was quieter, more peaceful... The vet left to give us a moment...

He was still breathing, still fighting... I put my ear to his face, and heard him...

I kept making sure his eye lids closed from time to time. I remember back when Catalina, my little girl in Germany, needed to be anesthetized for a check up. The vet put some put liquid drops in her eyes and made her blink, so her eyes didn't dry out... So for Mijo, I did that every once in a while... I didn't want his eyes to dry up... I wanted him to be able to see me, because laying on that table, he couldn't hear me.

I begged Alex not to bring the vet back in for the final injection... I think I may have screamed something at her... I don't know... I wasn't me... I was trying to hold him in my arms, without moving him... I was trying to give him another chance...

I bawled...

I don't know if I have ever cried like that before... I thought I'd be all cried out... I thought all my tears had already left the building the previous hours and days... But there was more... a lot more... and more to come...

I know that Alex and I held hands over his body... I felt the love... I felt his warmth... his breathing... I know I cried tears onto him, there were tear drops on his lips...

I looked him in the eye as much as I could, but mostly, I cried...

I felt the liquid go into him, I felt it go around my hand into him...

I don't know much about what happened after that... I know I didn't want to leave him, I had promised him I would never do it. I regret not holding him once more... I know that at that moment, I felt the life drain out of me... I felt hope die...

I walked out, not knowing what to do, and flopped down on the grass outside... I never sit on grass, but Mijo liked it...

I managed to drive home...

That was yesterday...

Since then I've tried to rest, tried to come to grips with what has happened, tried to connect with a few friends, I've tried... I'm still trying...

This morning I got up wanting to do some sport, washing, then study and take on the day with confidence... It's a new day, I should take that opportunity to get back into my routine... It took all of 1 minute, from bed to bathroom, to be bawling... Except for the time I manage to calm down enough to type this blog, I've been crying... It's now 10am... I was awake at 6:15...

We are running out of tissues..

I felt so bad this morning, I wanted to plead with Alex not to go to work, because I just can't today. I just can't. We have discussed how she copes in these situations, and I know that's how she copes, by going to work, so I kept my trap shut. I just want her to hug me all day, so I can feel her warmth.

I cried so much on the drive to drop mum off at work this morning, she started crying too, and contemplated not going to work... She wanted to be there for me, but I told her, honestly, I don't think I'd be much company today.

I don't know the grieving process, we haven't learnt that in counseling school yet, but I do know, I'm feeling very lost... I feel very numb...

I can't explain it, and maybe that's why folks can never really explain how they feel after someone close to them, or their pet, has passed. We are just lost.

I also feel that I am grieving for my other losses in my life. It's a bit like, it's a culmination of all the others before him, plus him on top, making me feel pain like I have never experienced before.

Grief is just love, with no place to go... Alex and I talked about that quote last night. I used this quote to help me through leaving my 4 pets in Germany, I know I have to find a new place for my love, but for now, I just can't.

I know I couldn't have gotten through this without the support of my Mum and Alex...

While Mum cries at the drop of a hat, she is solid and thoughtful and loving. Alex is strong and experienced in these matters. She knew what to say, and when, even if I did yell back… Both have a lot of time and patience for me.

I know Alex and Mum feel bad, maybe even guilty, for choosing him. Mijo was a present, to give me joy and love and comfort. And he sure did, in multitudes, to all of us. I would never have gotten a cat back then, I didn't feel Alex or I were ready, we were still working through our issues with our pets in Germany.

Alex and I decided that we want Mijo home with us. He was only on this earth for 6.5 months, we expected him to be with us for 10+ years. Taken too early. Once he's cremated we'll have him in a little urn. He was so small, but if there's a little left over, we will either plant a tree with his ashes or sprinkle him down by the river, the first place he went to that was close to water.

The past day or so, I have shared what happened with some friends, classmates and family, and everyone has been so thoughtful and caring. Thank you, it's really helped to know you're all out there, thinking of the little guy. He would have loved to meet you all.

He was perfection. If someone else had gotten him, realized he was deaf, they may not have given him the adventures and life he had. Mum considers him a rescue cat...

So here I am, in the chair, his last chair in his last moments at home.

I can still smell him on my shirt. When I walk around the house, dazed, I sniff my shirt. He had a wonderful smell. The smell of love and adventure. I hope that smell lasts a life time.

I miss his warmth, his meow, which was damn loud!! I miss, that sometimes he'd get lost around the house... Or he'd lose me, around the house. He was gentle, and only bit me once, by accident, piercing my thumb a little. I miss the fact he had 1 tooth growing forward, directly out, making him a tri-toothed kitten with a protruding top lip! He took on the world without fear. I've never experienced anything like it in a cat. My girl Catalina did sit on my shoulder as I walked down the street in Germany, but Mijo, he let me go skateboarding with him, played guitar with me (he'd chew the strings) and one time, I even vacuumed his tail.

All trust. No fear.

Back when he lost all his hair around his neck and stomach after his snip operation, we were pretty concerned. Funnily enough, it grew back pretty quickly, but it grew back white, not grey. He had a ring around his neck and kind of marks on his back wrapping around to his belly. Alex googled it, and actually found out, cats can often have their hair grow back white after trauma or experiencing extremes of temperature if their hair was cut short or fell out.

About a month ago, I sent my dearest of friends, Sandra, a photo of his regrowth, and she commented looks like “little angel wings”...

Fly on little wing, fly on...

RIP Mijo Angus

12-11-2020 – 27-05-2021

Thanks for reading,

Josh

#pet #pet love #pet death #sad story #loss #griefandloss

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barbasbodaciousbeard · 4 years ago

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If You Love Someone, Let Them Go: Part 11

Summary: Since starting with SVU, Sonny hadn’t kept much terribly close to the chest. The squad knew about his family, growing up on Staten Island, the classes at Fordham. What was hidden was why he didn’t date. Sonny Carisi was also separated from his childhood sweetheart, a separation neither ever took to divorce. They had the same haunts. They’d grown up neighbors. Their paths crossed every few months, and divorce talks would turn into reminiscing would turn into a night spent together, sometimes sex sometimes just talking until the early morning. It always ended with one of them waking up alone however. How will that change when the squad finds out?

Pairings: Sonny Carisi x Original Character

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10

A/N: One of the first chapters I wrote.

March 2016:

“I don’t like this,” Victoria muttered, brushing his hair back.

“I know, doll. I’ll be home soon enough, okay?” He was going undercover, staying in a shelter for sex offenders, and she was clinging to him beforehand. Sonny was thankful when Victoria came home with a bag of clothes he was inheriting from Margy’s husband so that he didn’t have to bring anything from this home after. The only thing he refused was taking his ring off, working marriage into his back story. It wouldn’t come off again.

“I know. I just hate knowing where you’ll be. Who you’ll be around.”

“Me too, Tor. I gotta pretend I’m one of them.”

“We’ll go see Bella and Tommy when you’re home. Play with our newest niece.”

“I’d like that a lot.”

“I love you, Dom. I’ll miss you.”

“I love you, Tor. I’ll miss you too. Be home as soon as I can, okay? You call Liv if you need anything. Amanda has your number too, in case she needs help with Jessie.”

“I know. Go catch the bad guy, okay?”

He kissed her softly, and she ruffled his hair as he left. Sonny didn’t want to look too much like himself for this. She’d suggested the name Smitty, mostly as a joke when they were watching some movie. It was a week and a half before he could come home. Once they thought they had Loomis, and then realized Richie was involved too, Sonny got to come home and shed the persona before returning to the precinct. Of course, Victoria didn’t know any of this; she just knew Sonny would need support.

In the time he’d been gone, she’d been feeling under the weather, so when he got home, she was sipping ginger tea in a vain attempt to settle her stomach. He dropped the duffel bag when the door was locked, immediately starting to peel off the jacket, then the inherited hoodie, then the jeans that didn’t fit right and drop them on the bag.

“I gotta wash this off,” he said plainly as he went for the shower. It was a habit he’d taken to as he figured out how to separate the days on the job that felt like they stuck with him the most. Sonny would shower, though he usually didn’t feel such an aversion to his clothing, and then talk to her once he felt better. This time, she went to the bathroom after a while, sitting on the toilet seat.

“You okay?” she asked.

“I guess.” The water shut off, and he pulled the curtain back to get a towel. “I didn’t like pretending I had pictures of kids. But it also was weird? I don’t think any of those guys got enough time. But I was also, like, playin’ dominoes with them. Can make you wonder if they’re the same guy as before they did time.”

“I know that’s not easy to think about.”

“It looks like they might have proved me wrong.”

“How?”

“The guy who did it? He’s the one I thought was probably rehabilitated. He also saved me when I got jumped so-”

“You got jumped?”

“Shit, Lieu didn’t tell you?”

“No. Dom, are you okay?”

“A vic’s dad saw me at the precinct. I was new in the place so he thought I was the perp and he and his friends brought bats.” He shifted around, and she could see deep purple bruise across his back. “Richie, one of the guys, saved me.”

“Sweetheart,” she whispered, fingers gently brushing over the swelling. “Did you see a doc?”

“It’s just a bruise. Feeling better every day.”

“Liv said you gotta go back in?”

“No. But, I need to hear everything. See this through.”

“I know. Liv said she approved for you to take a few days off when it’s over.”

“She told me. Somebody meddled.”

“Love you,” she sang softly. “You need to take time to recover.”

“I was planning to ask, and I appreciate that you did meddle when you watched Noah. I love you. So much.”

“I’ll get you some clothes while you shave and stuff.”

“Thank you, Tor.” She left him to get ready, laying out a suit and tie and everything else. He came in not long after, and she took advantage of the opportunity to watch him get dressed. Things had been good again for almost a year, and she needed to talk to him, but knew this wasn’t the time. In the worst case of timing, she’d started to feel sick while he was okay. It wasn’t too bad at first, easily written off as PMS, but she’d realized she was late the night before, something that made her wish it had taken him just one more day to come home. She hadn’t taken a test yet, and it didn’t feel like the right time to talk about it. She knew he’d be ecstatic if she were, but they’d decided to drop the subject until summer. The possibility still scared her because all she could consider was that he'd get distant when the first hard case came.

Sonny would get home that night, and they’d have the weekend. The trial would start on Monday, and Dominick planned to go. They had the next two days, and then he’d take two after the trial. There was a box of tests tucked at the bottom of her underwear drawer, and a lazy Saturday felt like the right time to find out. He fell into the bed when he got home,taking just enough time to tell her the attorney was the real perp and the guy who had saved him wasn’t before falling asleep quickly. Since he was home so late, it was easy enough for her to wake up before him, running the shower as she watched the clock.

“How about I join-” she could hear Sonny before she turned and saw him, eyes wide. He took in Victoria settled on a toilet seat with a small white stick clutched in her hands. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Yeah,” she said, cheeks red as her eyes welled up. “Don’t be mad.”

“Hey, hey,” he soothed, kneeling in front of her. “I’m not mad. Did you not want me with you?”

“Yeah. I’m scared, Dom.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to process it. What we talked about at Christmas. The fact it’s not June yet, so I shouldn’t be pregnant.”

“We’ll stay in therapy. Unfortunately a verbal agreement doesn’t prevent pregnancy,” a soft smile as he teased her. “But I’ll be here. I swear to you, doll. I know the doin’ is the only thing that can make that real.”

“I was definitely going to tell you if I am. I got a little box to put it in.”

“That’s all that matters to me, okay? We’re two separate people. You’re the one who may be carrying our baby. If you needed to process that first, it’s fair. I really hope you are, though.”

“I think what scares me is that I kind of do too. We always talked about it. But this isn’t when we planned, y’know?”

“I know, doll. But I think the last few years tell us everything ain’t going to go to plan. But we can get through anything,” Sonny whispered, kissing her temple. She looked to her phone, letting out a breath. “Want me to check it?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, head on his chest. He reached forward, holding it up.

“How many lines is a baby?”

“Two.” She knew the answer as soon as she heard him sniff and felt his arms tighten around her. Victoria could feel the smile on his face, and she clung to him.

“We made a baby, tesoro.”

“Lemme see,” she murmured, eyes teary. Reverently, she held it, wrapping around his middle.

“Wait, so around six weeks is when my sisters all realized. Tor, are we having a Valentine’s baby?”

“I guess,” she whispered. “They’ll give us the conception window, won’t they?”

“Oh my god, we’ll get to see them soon,” he beamed, dropping his hands to her belly. His wide eyed reverence made her feel butterflies in her stomach, butterflies that started to overshadow the nerves.

“We will. I’ll call a doctor Monday. Maybe they can squeeze me in your off days. Then we can see them before you tell anyone. I know you won’t be able to wait until 12 weeks to tell ma.”

“What made you start realizing?”

“I had all that indigestion. Got fatigued right before you went. Then I’ve been nauseous all the time and peeing a lot. I realized I was late like the night before you got home when I realized how much my boobs hurt. I wanted to know before you got here but then it wrapped up.”

“What are you craving?” he asked, picking her up and gently settling her on the bed. “I’ll get you these ginger candies. Teresa, Bella, and Gina all swear by them for the nausea and indigestion. I couldn’t get Amanda to eat them with Jesse. You’ll need a pregnancy pillow when you get bigger. And not to be gross, but we gotta get chia seeds. Bella learned it helps you not get constipated.”

“Nothing yet. But I love you,” she whispered, pulling him to lay against her side. She wanted to cry, so grateful to see his response. The change she’d imagined was sudden, an immediate withdrawal. Now he was here, after a hard case, not pulling back. Instead, she had a feeling there’d be a basket of ginger candy, bananas, and chia pudding waiting on a pregnancy pillow with a handful of onesies.

“I love you, too,” he grinned before ducking to kiss her unchanged belly. “And I love you, kiddo. Me and your mom can’t wait to meet you.” Victoria’s hand rested in his hair as he laid his head on her side. She was right, and he went to the store after a while, returning hours later with bags. Carefully, he laid everything on the coffee table. He was excited, she could tell, and she wondered if he’d even make it to the appointment before telling his mom.

“So, I know we aren’t tellin’ ma yet, but I did some googling about your boobs to try to figure out what can help. It said the, like, stretchy bras like these so I got a lot. And then these boob ice packs and nipple cream because I didn’t know which part hurts. Prenatals, because duh. Ginger candy since that’s bothering ya now. I got chia seeds for if you get constipated and then Gina ate a banana a day because she got lots of muscle cramps, so I got us more bananas. And then there’s that dip and chips you like flowers in the kitchen.”

Victoria was silent, staring up at him. The doubt that had wormed its way into her head was gone, though she knew it would reappear until experience confirmed she was wrong. But now? She was more secure than she’d ever been. She thought whatever change would be there suddenly, that he’d pull away when he knew and spend too much time in his head. Instead, here was Sonny, just off a case that wasn’t easy for him, putting his focus on the good news. He knew she was afraid, and he was genuinely there for her. She also knew that there was an extent to which this was his way of saying See, doll? I’m not going anywhere. Victoria teared up, and Sonny looked worried, dropping beside her.

“Come here, you absolute sap,” she sniffed. There were the hormones. Really, there was the overwhelming confirmation that he wasn’t going anywhere and they’d get this life together. The sentimentality she often felt when she realized he was just so good and so sweet, even if he thought his job tainted that.

“Ah, you happy crying?”

“Yeah. You’re so perfect, Dom. This is so sweet.”

“You’re carrying our baby, Victoria. This is the least I can do. I’m going to take care of you. I’m so grateful.”

The weekend and trial went by in a blur, but Victoria was able to confirm she was pregnant with bloodwork while he was in court. They were going to an ultrasound that Thursday, and she was glad to know the trial would wrap up in time for Sonny to make it without her needing to reschedule. She was later than she realized once she visited the doctor, and Sonny had excitedly downloaded apps for both of them to track the pregnancy week by week. The first time anyone saw them together, they’d probably guess that she was pregnant, based only on the way he escorted her like she’d break now and instinctively reached for her belly despite the lack of a bump. If it weren’t so endearing, she’d be furious.

“You excited to see them?” he asked, leg bouncing as they sat. “Ain’t a valentine’s baby, but that means we get them two weeks sooner.”

“I can’t wait,” she said, hand going to his knee. “You okay, Dom?”

“I’m so nervous.”

“Me too. But we can see them today.”

“The app says they’re the size of a raspberry. Maybe that’s why you’ve been craving them.”

“We’ll track the weekly comparisons.”

“We’ll tell everybody at dinner tonight. Ma’s gonna flip.”

“And you can tell the squad when you decide. I know you. Four weeks could be unbearable.”

“I just wanna tell everybody. We got a little raspberry.”

“Saturday we get the next fruit.”

“Perfect. I’ll update my chart of what you’ll be craving.” He kept his hand on her back as they went to the ultrasound room, watching the tech like a kid on Christmas. If she didn’t know for a fact that he’d been incredibly supportive of four different women through pregnancy, she’d think he didn’t know how any of this worked. When the nurse started to show them the baby, confirming the heartbeat and measuring to determine if the age was correct, Sonny watched the image with what was officially the goofiest of his grins she’d ever seen.

“Want to hear them?” the tech asked softly. “I think we’ll be able to hear.”

“Please,” Victoria smiled as she held his hand tight. Sonny pressed his lips to the back of her hand as the steady sound filled the room. His eyes were brimmed with happy tears, and she started to cry too when they made eye contact, which made them both let out happy laughs.

“That’s our kid.” The joy in his voice made Victoria wish they’d just gone straight for this a year before.

“It is,” she whispered. Soon enough, they were in their apartment, and Sonny had his cheek pressed to her belly and the print out of the sonogram clutched in his hand.

“I’m gonna tell them a story every night. And if I get caught on a case, I’ll call and tell a really short story.”

“Yeah?” Her hand smoothed through his hair as she watched him. His eyes were closed, and he was desperate to see if he could pick up on the baby’s heartbeat. He knew he was just hearing hers, but maybe if he stayed there long enough…

“Yeah. And I’m gonna be at every sonogram. I can’t wait, Tor.”

“Me either, Dom. I know I’ve been scared, but this week makes me feel better about it. I can’t promise I won’t get panicky sometimes.”

“I know. I’m glad you’re feeling better about it, but I understand if you get freaked. The girls and Rollins? All three of them got really emotional and panicky.”

“I love you. We both do.”

“I love both of you. I’m telling Lieu tomorrow. I want to let her know. And be positive I get to be at the twelve week appointment.”

“That’s fine, Dom. I also know you gotta tell somebody.”

“That too,” he admitted.

The next morning found him giddy as he got to the office. On his way, he’d grabbed zeppoli, setting them out and dropping at his desk with his coffee. He’d only seen Fin so far, but it felt impossible not to run up to him, whip out his phone, and start showing off the ultrasound photo. He kept pulling it up just to be sure it was there and real and ready for him to show Olivia. He wasn’t sure he’d have made as much progress as he had without the squad she led. It had helped him feel more stable as he accepted that there were things he needed to work on to be okay again. Olivia was, to him, unknowingly a big part of why he’d gotten his head out of his ass. He went to her open door the minute he saw her sit down.

“Hey Lieu, can I talk to you?” he asked from the doorway. Liv motioned for him to come in and close the door.

“Everything alright, Carisi?”

“I just got something you need to know, ‘cause I’ll have to disappear for a couple hours every once in a while.”

“Oh? Is everything okay?” she asked, leaning back as she looked up at him.

“Yeah. Tor’s nine weeks along as of this past Saturday, so the reason is about the size of a cherry now.”

“Victoria’s pregnant?” she beamed, and Sonny nodded eagerly, fumbling to pull out the ultrasound picture on his phone.

“We found out a week ago. The ultrasound was Thursday. There’s no bump yet, but she’s got just a little bit bigger and I can’t wait until she pops. It’s kind of crazy, I know, but I’m going to be a dad. I was gonna wait until we did the twelve week ultrasound, but y’know, I gotta leave to do that.”

“And you just wanted to tell somebody.”

“That too,” he said, and Olivia wanted to tease him for how boyish he looked with the grin and nervous glances to his lap. “I’m glad I knew before the bar, or I wouldn’t have been able to focus.”

“You two will be phenomenal parents. Congratulations. Unless something comes up, you’re fine to go for doctor’s appointments. How’s she feeling?”

“Pregnant,” he laughed. “But the bakery’s in a good way. She’s stepping back a little more. And between my sisters and Amanda, I remember what stuff helps so I try to help.”

“I gave Bella Noah’s old clothes or I’d offer them.”

“I appreciate that. We’ll inherit enough from everybody though. Plus, I kinda like shopping for onesies and stuff. They’re really cute. And Target got in some real cute outfits...”

“Are you telling everyone else?”

“Not until twelve weeks. But I couldn’t go without telling you, lieu.”

@cycat4077

#sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi x oc #law and order #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #writing

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jedimasterkelly · 3 years ago

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Shit happens when you're a woman. A lot of shit. Bad shit. And a lot of the time, you will run into doctors who do not listen to you. Will not care about you, and will not take you seriously.

This story is about the Great Cancer Scare of 2020.

I was 49, and 3 yrs post menopause. I was pleased about that, as it means no more period ever. I could deal with the occasional hot flashes, and the snapping of necks of anyone who dared bother me. Then in May of 2020, after the pandemic fully hit and the University I work at closed and sent all of us to work from home, I got very sick. Not from Covid, thankfully, but something else. I had started bleeding, and it wasn't menstrual blood. It was bright red and HEAVY. I was filling post-natal pads within 2 hours. I called the Women's Clinic where my OB-GYN lived. They couldn't see me until July. WTF! I called my GP, who got me in on an emergency basis, I mean, 3 yrs post-menopausal women don't just spring a leak, you know? My ovarian function had been almost nil for 3 years. He called my OB-GYN and demanded I get seen right away. They made an appointment for 2 weeks later. Keep reading, because it's quite a ride!

Seriously! 2 weeks later!

In the meantime, my GP discovered my thyroid was tanked out, so I was put on Levothyroxine 25mcg. It helped a lot. I started to feel a little bit more human, at least in the brain area. I finally got in to the OB-GYN, and he did a biopsy and trans-vaginal ultrasound. We got the results 2 weeks later and he called me in to go over them. He said I had hyperplasia with atypia. Cells were dividing rapidly, and he was very concerned. He recommended an endometrial ablation, or a full hysterectomy. At 49 he wasn't concerned with me having a sudden maternal urge (I have no kids), so he was fine with either choice. I decided on the hysterectomy, because why not? Endometrium grows back after an ablation, and why bother at my age? Just yank it all and let me get back to my life.

He said he didn't feel safe doing the procedure, since the cells were most likely cancerous and rapidly dividing, so he sent a referral to one of the cancer centers in OKC. I expected a call within a couple of weeks. I mean, really, if I have the early stages of endometrial cancer, they'd call me in immediately, right? Right?

Crickets. Literal crickets for 4 months! I was very concerned, hell, worried I was going to get full blown cancer and these jackasses weren't going to try and help me at all. I called OB-GYN several times during that 4 month period, and was told the cancer center in OKC wasn't returning their calls. I called them numerous times, and could never get a person on the phone.

I was told it was the pandemic. The pandemic was shutting everything down and causing huge backlogs for non-Covid issues to be seen. I told OB-GYN to refer me to the oncologist from Tulsa, who also worked once a month in Stillwater at the SMC Cancer Center. He didn't want to, he wanted me to see the doctor in OKC (who wasn't returning anyone's calls!) I called SMC Cancer Center and asked how soon I could get in with Dr. Thomas. His office called back within 2 hours asking for my chart and biopsy results. I had the Womens Clinic send my information to Dr. Thomas in Tulsa. Within a week, they called and had me on the schedule to see him in Stillwater on his next visit.

This is where the story gets good. And by good, I mean, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. Thanks for sticking with me this far.

Got in to see Dr. Thomas. I researched him and learned we have the same Alma Mater. That day, we were both wearing t-shirts from said same Alma Mater. Instant bonding! I also work in Administration at said same Alma Mater, so we spent some time discussing (gossiping) about my department since he had taken classes with a lot of my faculty during his undergrad. Then he got serious and handed me my biopsy report. He told me he was going to assume I wasn't shown this, since I am:

1. A Master's of Science graduate student in Education Leadership - this making me a researcher who knows how to do research, do research, and understand research.

2. Work full time in a Physical Sciences department at a Big 12 University.

3. Edit manuscripts for my Dept. Chair, thus proving I am scientifically literate. You can't edit scientific manuscripts without having a good, solid knowledge of said science. If he's alternating between "adsorb" and "absorb", I have to understand his research in order to correct his manuscript. This is important because his manuscripts have to be peer reviewed before they can be published in a reputable journal.

"Read it to me, out loud," he said.

I started reading from the paper in my professional scientist voice. It didn't take long before I began to falter as I came to the realization I had been lied to.

"Read it again," he said.

This time, I read it with a lot more heat in my voice.

Diagnosis: no hyperplasia with atypia, no abnormal cells detected

Dr. Thomas waited for me to explode. I didn't. I just stared at him in anger and horror. He offered to do another biopsy to make sure, but he suggested I fire my OB-GYN immediately and find someone who actually gives a shit about me.

I was still randomly bleeding, 6-9 weeks at a time, so we agreed on another trans-vaginal ultrasound and biopsy. The attached photo shows he took 3 samples from my uterus. He wanted to be sure.

A little ditty about endometrial biopsies:

They hurt like a motherfucker.

Take 2-3 ibuprofen before you leave the house to go to your procedure.

Relax. It usually only lasts a couple of minutes. The doctor normally takes 1 or 2 samples. Pinch, snip, clip, done.

Not this guy. He wanted to be surely sure.

He went for a 3rd pinch snip clip. My uterus seized up in the most painful spasm I ever had in my life. I almost came off the table. He was seated on a little rolly stool so he shot back away from me before I could connect his head to my foot. He triumphantly held up his little weapon of Uterine Destruction and declared, "Got it!"

"Yeah, you almost got your ass kicked mister," I growled at him.

"It was worth it to get this beauty of a sample."

So, after a biopsy of your uterus, expect some bleeding and cramping. I had severe cramps for 2 days. I was not amused. We're talking laying in bed with a heating pad and ibuprofen every 4 hours kind of cramping.

Got the results back in a couple of weeks. No cancer. No hyperplasia. No abnormal cell growth. He recommended I find a new OB-GYN fast. I decided fuck it, I'm done. I'm never seeing another OB-GYN ever again.

Dr. Thomas said several times he's convinced my issues are endocrinal. I filed that away in the back of my mind.

(if you ever do test positive for cancer and you are in the Tulsa area, I highly recommend Dr. Eric Thomas! Make sure you have a sense of humor with him.)

My GP started pressuring me back in March of 2021 to find a new OB-GYN. The Women's Clinic has several, but they have a fucked up rule you can't switch doctors there. So if you go there, you are stuck with the same doctor and can't move over to his colleague on another floor. I saw my GP again, and asked if he was still best buds with a gynecologist who had his own clinic. He was always full, and not taking new patients, so GP would have to call his buddy to get me in.

Which he did. Buddy-GYN's office called the very next day to schedule me in. He had been sent my chart and was concerned about the long bleeds (6-9 weeks in duration) and why the fuck were they happening after being 3 yrs post-menopause.

I went in for a consult in April of 2021. First thing out of his mouth, "Has anyone ever talked to you before about PCOS?"

I laughed.

I laughed because every GYN I saw over the last 20 years told me I didn't have PCOS, endometriosis, or any sort of hormonal issues. I was just fat, lazy, and a piggy pig pig. I actually had one OB-GYN tell me to go on The Biggest Loser. Fat shamed while sitting there naked on his table after an invasive exam of my female bits. Thanks a lot, asshole.

I told him about that. He informed me he could tell by LOOKING at me I have the classics signs of PCOS. I use an epilator on my crazy man-hairs, so he asked if I was tweezing or waxing. I about fell out of my chair. Nobody ever believed me that I was having to remove crazy thick hairs off my chin and neck all the time. He asked if I ever had ovarian cysts. Affirmative, I was diagnosed with ovarian cysts the first time one exploded back in 1994. He stood there, holding the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

"Well, going by your chief complaints, your abdominal circumference, history of bursting cysts, and no period for 3 years, I am saying you have PCOS."

He went on to discuss my need for an appointment with an endocrine specialist, he was convinced my thyroid tanking out sent my ovaries back into production, and now my hormones are all over the place, most likely, and I needed specialized care.

He must have talked to GP, because I soon got a call from the endo clinic to come in.

This post is already long and tedious, but I am happy to say I finally have 3 doctors who listen to me. My new Endo doc tripled my levothyroxine and scheduled a follow up blood test for next month. Buddy-GYN talked me into a pap smear and cervical exam in July as well. He also wants a mammogram, which I begrudgingly need to schedule so he doesn't chew my ass in July when I walk in with no results. GP is working on my other issues (weight, bad fluid retention, etc...). We discovered from a blood test last Friday my iron levels are dangerously low. I am now on a Rx iron supplement. I've always struggled with anemia, but it never occurred to me or GP to check my iron levels. If you're a woman, and you feel like absolute dog shit and your doctor can't figure out why, have your iron and electrolytes tested. It'll probably take about 3-4 weeks for me to see any results from the iron supplement, but I can already see a reduction in fluid retention.

In September, I have an appointment with Dr. Le at Integris in OKC. He's a bariatric surgeon. I have gained so much weight from having PCOS and Hypothyroidism that I need to drop a lot of fat fast. I'm pretty healthy - I don't have the normal problems obese people tend to have. I'm not diabetic, don't have sleep apnea, my cholesterol levels are good. I am what they call "healthy fat" which seems like an oxymoron. However, it will improve my chances of getting approved for a sleeve gastrectomy.

I turned 50 last week, and had to endure 3 decades of no one listening to me. I feel I lost so many years of my life and I can never get them back. I hope this post reaches a lot of younger women having issues. Keep looking for a doctor who will listen to you. It sucks we have to hunt for these unicorns, but they do exist. I finally have a good team who actually cares about me.

You have a right to be listened to! You have a right to be heard!

I was asked: Who are my doctors?

Dr. Daniel Brown D.O. Stillwater Physicians Clinic

Dr. Yasuto Taguchi M.D. Taguchi Women's Clinic

Dr. Wynter Kipgen M.D. Stillwater Diabetes & Endocrinology

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ranvwoop · 3 years ago

Note

TALK ABOUT AMERICAN HEALTHCARE I HAVE AN IDEA OF WHY IT'S THERE BUT I WANNA HEAR THE EXPLANATION ALSO THE ONLY HOUSE THAT"S NOT ON FIRE (YET) FOR THE SAME REASON I JUST WANNA SEE THE ANALYSIS:TM: IF U WANT I WANNA SEE IF I GOT IT RIGHT :D

Hi :DDD. Thank u for asking,,,, I have many thoughts. I am sorry in advance. This is one of those things I will put under a readmore because I am into rambling. IT GOT A LOT LONGER THAN ANTICIPATED IM SORRY. Like. a lot. It was 4 pages in google docs because i dont trust tumblr to save my drafts

Okay a lot of my Ranboo thoughts are about the syndicate / boreal trio / peerpressure duo. But you’re probably aware I am a Them enthusiast first and both a dsmp enjoyer and person second. Because. I really like the syndicate. I also don’t have too too many thoughts on the more recent lore past the experiments. Once the in character monologues stopped, so did my brain. I communicate through monologue to monologue communication.

American Healthcare is actually gonna be the main reason why this is so long bc it works Very Much for like three different reasons. One sorta niche and abstracter reason is a stream that was basically never elaborated on back in March, either the day after or very close to the peerpressure Egg confrontation stream. The egg called him a coward (for some reason my brain can Only come up with the “stop saying i look like chicken little. he’s dumb, and a coward, and i am NOT a coward” vine), and he is not a coward, so he decided to make an action plan to bring the server together by acting as a mediator for all parties and try to make sure that everyone is happy, because he’s the only one that can see all sides, or something. This was where he said the big happy family™ line but other than Ranboo Become Dream?? analysis nothing else really happened and everything went along as normal.

(I also always held a little bit of suspicion on this stream actually and thought it might be the influence of the egg, because it says it can give one whatever they want, and ranboo wants to make everyone happy and this was a totally foolproof way of doing that. Sort of in a similar way that BBH is convinced that his plan will totally make Skeppy happy. But also Ranboo is just like that, but this felt a little more on the nose than usual and he did fall into the egg and made his decisions after being egged on by it, buT WE’LL NEVER KNOW, WILL WE?

… also I really wanted to see more egg conflict at the time. Peerpressure rlly got involved in the egg plot for cameos at the banquet and nothing else. I do not blame anyone and respect the ccs for all of their attempts to weave plots together but also. also…. we.. we coulda had so much…)

That was a little off topic from the point, but… he really just thinks he can save the sick… he can see that everyone on the server is unwell and is wrong but, y’know, look inwardly, the unwell is coming from inside the house. And an inherent problem of the way that the server runs. And if this is still lowkey in effect or not (idk man a) ranboo has monologued a lot I simply chose a one off from march to grow emotionally attached to and b) i think that my brain has shut off once ranboo stopped solo lore streams), it would probably go the way that most choosing to change the system from the inside goes. Which is the point of the song and stuff! He will inevitably decide what’s too far, whether he will either admit it’s a choice or just feel that it’s what he has to do. The, uh, dealing with the devil, to be polite.

in conclusion (but we are not close to done here i’m holding you for a bit longer), i think a lot about that stream and i think that shows what he wants to be, at the very least, and continuing down that path would definitely go into being far more trouble than just a noble goal of wanting to help people, from negotiating with corruption (The lobbyists, the Congressmen and lies bit) and that the server can’t really be brought together and saved like that (When things are more and more this way / Sometimes it's like they'd rather die)

THE LESS. vwoop why have you written an unnecessarily long post about one stream in your playlist character analysis reason is both more literal and piece by piece and also Syndicate, My Beloved, you know the drill. We are going line by line because I have a lot of feelings about American Healthcare, apparently.

This also comes back to that everyone on the server is doing Really Badly, all of the time, but mostly his time in L’Manburg. For one, he is pretty complacent in everything and doesn’t really accomplish much in terms of actual change, so like Well people die every day / I wouldn't have it any other way / I just think they should feel good while they are alive. An example of this is Exiled Tommy — who I’d also metaphorically put as the dead man just for funsies, since Tommy’s whole exile thing was one of the first things Ranboo experienced on the server—as he did try to be friends with Tommy and keep him company with his letters, but he still has no power over the actual issue at hand. Just trying to make it a bit more bearable. Similarly is Techno, while Ranboo still participated in the butcher army that was trying to kill him, he helped in the meantime until he “died”.

And then it’s the Realization that participating in the system doesn’t really help much, and the subsequent Everything. It could be getting mad at the whole government system and that he didn’t mean to contribute to the harm, or how he fought with Fundy using hs ideology but not in the way that Ranboo thought. It could also be standing up to his hallucination Dream, in that he doesn’t try this hard to be a good person just to be accused of helping with all of the things that he may or may not have helped with. (That is… a discussion for not right now, I don’t know.) And I think this sort of area is also where it’s like they’d rather die is also relevant, cause Doomsday. Nobody could just set aside their governments and just get along, though Ranboo had his own solution to fighting and things.

And then he joins the Syndicate! And the lyrics of the song are directly Government Bad, because government bad. Canon anarchist, has done things that he’s not proud of as a part of the government. The lines it was the government / … It got louder over the years / Until all that I could hear was flies and all.

But honestly I think in the Syndicate he’s still trying to “save the sick”! Because the Syndicate don’t All fit eye to eye either. He’s the token pacifist, and a vote against violence whenever it comes down to it. Not all anarchists are violent but Techno and Phil will probably react strongly when provoked, due to All the past events, and I live in a world where their trauma and issues get talked about as much as everyone else’s. Since everything is decided by vote it’d probably be split between them and Ranboo + Niki, who is in her healing/no longer resorting to murder arc. He’ll help them negotiate and then everything will Be Okay, ideally.

(Also I just like the idea of Ranboo believing that he is helping the people he’s living with because canonically cc!Ranboo has said he just really cares about his family and the syndicate are included in his family shut up but they also just believe they’re helping him and yes it’s self indulgent. I care them. Particularly Endduo, actually, or whatever they're called, I am not bold enough to think Ranboo looks at Techno and thinks I Can Fix Him, but. Philza Minecraft will one day talk about his feelings. One day.)

There’s also radioduo and beeduo as of recent— really I’m just saying I think that Ranboo constantly has a Need To Help People, believes he can do it, and it will come back to hurt him in the end (except for the Syndicate because I’m in denial. The Syndicate can’t fall out if they never stream together :) ).

THIS CONCLUDES THE AMERICAN HEALTHCARE PORTION OF OUR SHOW.

The Only House That’s Not on Fire Yet !! I like this one. This is also blatantly there cause Syndicate. They are the only faction that is not actively falling apart, and this could absolutely be because they never stream together. But I do not care. However we are also going to go through this one piece by piece because we’re nearing 1500 words here and I might as well embarrass myself more. I am writing an incredibly informal essay about Ranboo My _Beloved (i assume his middle name is My, and he’s just one of those people who write his full full name) and this is the third page. If you’re still reading this, I’m sorry. Here we go.

There are lines that just seem like an unwell but recovering person, and I like to sort of think that way about Ranboo in the arctic during the down time. “I feel knotted up today / But in a most exquisite way” and “I feel strangely regular / But honestly I prefer it to / The usual bizarre” are just! He’s just hanging out. He’s doing good. There is the acknowledgement that he’s usually not doing well, and all of the episodes that he’s had in the past, and it’s probably strange to be doing well in the midst of everything, and there’s probably something impending, but now? He’s doing good!

The verses directly after both of those ones are about uncertainty and trust and such, and I feel like that’s not necessarily about just One relationship but all of them. Will cause problems as long as he has an accomplice. He is not confident but he trusts and loves people.

“This suit doesn’t fit me / I made it conterfeitly” I just like to think about Ranboo in his fancy suit, but it’s just a little wrong because he actually has no idea what he’s doing. I also like to think about Ranboo in a cape to fit in with boreal trio and later the syndicate, and emerald duo had matchy blue outfits from the Antarctic Empire… and trying to fit in with them…. or maybe They make him something.. You know. Much to think about.

“Killing me with déjà vu” I think is like. A little less fun, because despite how well things are going, the enderwalk is still not resolved and he had even less answers when I started thinking “this is a ranboo song”. Just as it relates to having a strange sense of reality and stuff, which goes into specifics of enderwalk headcanons, which would make this far longer. Even though I’ve framed it as a negative, there is also the more positive note of “Oh! I just thought of how to change all the hate / Into love with the old switcheroo / Dancing in my déjà vu / You'll be dancing too” which I’d rather explain broken up but I feel like as it’s a full verse it should be together. The first part is connected to my general thoughts of him explained earlier tbh, he’s trying Very Hard to make everyone happy and fix things. And adding the second part to it is just like! He is trying to make sense of everything, and it’s not so scary as time goes by. Since the experiments where he’s been (questionably) trying to be more comfortable and get more answers.

This was very long. I am sorry. I am ending it here and probably not going to do much formatting to make it readable because it is very late o’clock and also this is four pages and 2000 words I am so sorry. But if you read this far then. Uhhh thank. ^v^.

#asks #vwoop.noises #☆graphite☆#Reader. graphite in particular. i am so sorry.#this is. kind of just embarassing actually #if you notice a tone switch at the end its cause i got tired and didnt want to finish this in the morning #and look at my past sins #2k words of analyzing r*nboo in the direction of some internet songs. not. the thing you want to think hard abot that when you wake up #ok i fell asleep looking at the post page. 10/10 #but uh otherwise thank u for asking (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)

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jalapeno-princess · 4 years ago

Text

Until We Meet Again

Mark Tuan X Reader

Genre: Angst

Warning: Mentions of death, depression, a very sad Mark (I’m so sorry) suicide (and the reader has cancer) so please don’t read if you’re easily triggered

Word Count: 11.4K

Summary: After getting the news that you had stage four brain cancer, your boyfriend Mark makes it his responsibility to make sure your last days on earth are some of the best days of your life.

A/N: I had an idea about writing an imagine based on the movie “A Walk to Remember” I highly recommend it if you haven’t seen it it’s one of my favorite movies but make sure you have a box of tissues ready because it’s a tear jerker. I actually started tearing up while writing this because I can picture how sad Mark would be if he lost his significant other. I debated for a while on whether or not I should post this but I decided to do so, read at your own risk. I also listened to “XO” by Beyonce when writing this so feel free to listen to that while reading.

Your love is bright as ever Even in the shadows Baby kiss me Before they turn the lights out Your heart is glowing And I'm crashing into you Baby kiss me Before they turn the lights out Before they turn the lights out Baby love me lights outIn the darkest night hour (in the darkest night hour) I'll search through the crowd (I'll search through the crowd) Your face is all that I see I'll give you everything Baby love me lights out Baby love me lights out You can turn my lights out

“She has stage 4 brain cancer. I’m so sorry, but there’s nothing we can do. Y/n only has 6 months left to live, if she’s lucky. We’ve done all there is we could do Mr.Tuan. You just have to make the most of her time left.”

Have you ever been in a situation where you physically felt your heart sink to your stomach? That’s exactly how Mark was feeling when your doctor brought him in to his office to give him the bad news. Just a few hours ago, you had passed out at work and were rushed to the hospital. Your coworkers felt as if it could have been from exhaustion or malnutrition since you were currently working on a business deal that had taken up all your time and energy. However, a few of the EMTs felt like there was something else, unfortunately something worse that was going on but they didn’t want to assume anything until an actual doctor examined you.

While you were sleeping, the resident doctor had the nurses run an x-ray and some other tests on you. It was then that they found a tumor in your brain the size of a quarter. Since he was your emergency contact, your boyfriend didn’t hesitate in leaving his job and practically sprinted towards the hospital to be with you.

You weren’t one to ever get sick. Sure, you had a few colds here and there; and there was one time you had the stomach flu, but that was it. You were one of the healthiest people Mark knew. Not only did you exercise on a daily basis, but you tried to watch what you’d eat and drank. After practically escaping two speeding tickets, he parked in the hospital’s parking lot and stormed in to the emergency room. He was so in shock; Mark wasn’t physically able to form coherent words as the receptionist asked him what he was doing there. Luckily your name fell from his lips on instinct and he was sure he probably looked like a mad man with his body frozen and eyes wide opened but he didn’t care. He was so worried for your health and your safety, nothing else mattered to him in that moment.

The receptionist gave him your room number and he murmured a quick thank you before storming his way down the hall. Mark hated hospitals; they were extremely eerie and creepy. Other than pregnancies, nothing good ever came from hospitals. Your boyfriend was completely aware of your hatred of having to stay in the hospital, so his mind wouldn’t stop wandering to you and how you were doing.

Once he made his way in to your room and saw you sleeping peacefully on the bed with a bunch of wires and tubes hooked on to your body, he released a breath of relief. However, he felt himself tense up at the sight of you looking so exhausted and so small. The bags under your eyes were prominent and your face was so pale; he was sure the image of you looking so fragile would be etched in to his mind for a long time.

He hurriedly made his way toward you and sank to his knees, reaching for your hands and leaving soft kisses on the back of them. He then began to run his fingers through your hair while whispering sweet nothings in your ear. When he realized there wasn’t a chance of you waking up any time soon, he decided to call your mom and let her know what happened.

You and Mark have been dating for almost 6 years and you’ve known each other for over 10. Other than your family, Mark was one of the only people you genuinely loved and trusted with your entire life. He was your best friend, your soulmate, your safe haven and you meant equally and if not more to him as he did to you. From the beginning of your friendship up until now, he had a close relationship with your family to the point where sometimes you felt they loved him just a little bit more than they did you. With that being said, it was only natural for him to want to inform your mom of your current well-being and the fact that you were in the hospital after fainting.

Mark wasn’t one who could just sit around and do nothing, especially when the love of his life was currently in the hospital; so he began pacing back and forth around the room waiting for your parent’s arrival. When the door opened, he was quick to turn around expecting to see your mom walk in, but he felt his anxiety levels rise when a doctor entered the room.

“Hello, I’m Dr.Phillip. Are you a relative of the patient?” Mark shook his head in disagreement before motioning to you.

“I’m her boyfriend.” Your doctor released a long sigh, one that Mark picked up on as a negative sign.

“Could you follow me for a moment? There’s something I need to tell you about y/n.” As much as he didn’t want to leave you alone, with the way the doctor was acting, he had a feeling it had to be serious. Something didn’t feel right, he knew there had to be a bigger problem other than fatigue and stress going on with you. His assumptions were soon proven true once the first few words fell from the older man’s mouth.

“We found a tumor in her brain. Unfortunately, we found it a little too late. I’m surprised it took so long for her body to react to it, but sometimes the cancer spreads slowly without her body having any side effects.”

Once Mark heard the word cancer, he felt as if his whole world collapsed. There was no way you of all people could have cancer. He couldn’t think; couldn’t breathe. Everything the doctor said went through one ear and out the other. His entire chest felt as if it was about to combust.

“There’s no way—the tests have to be wrong—y/n can’t have cancer—she’s so healthy—she takes such amazing care of herself—you have to do the cat scan again doc there’s no way—“ When Mark began to sob and sink to his knees, your doctor walked over to him and tried his best in comforting him. This had to be a nightmare. The thought of losing you was one he couldn’t bare to accept. He had to be dreaming. All he had to do was wake up and you’d be right there next to him, smiling at him adoringly like nothing was wrong. But deep down he knew this was real, and he’s never experienced this type of pain before.

“What—what can we do for her? Chemo? Is there any drugs she can take? Surgery? You guys can remove it can’t you? That’s your job! You’re supposed to save lives—please—please save my girlfriend—I’m begging you. She’s too young to die—I—I can’t live without her.”

The blank expression on the doctor’s face answered Mark’s question for him and soon he was practically screaming. He didn’t care if he was over reacting or if they’d bring security to kick him out; he was just told that his girlfriend, his best friend, the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with had terminal cancer. There was no way he could act civil and calm in a situation like this—he wanted to die.

“I’m so sorry son, but there’s nothing we can do. The tumor is too big for us to take out and even if we could, this is her brain we’re talking about. One wrong move and you could lose her even sooner—“

“Please don’t say that. I’m sure there’s so much more you assholes can do this is a person’s life we’re talking about. My person! The only person who means anything to me! If it was you, if it was your child, your wife, your mother, your sister, someone you cared deeply about, I’m sure you’d be acting the exact same way as I am right now.”

Your boyfriend was extremely stubborn. Sure, he was very polite, kind-hearted, soft-spoken and generous; but whenever it came to something he was genuinely passionate about, he wasn’t afraid to speak up and fight for what he felt was right. No matter who he was speaking up against. Mark was aware of how disrespectful he was acting toward your doctor, and he was trying so hard to understand the fact that the older man was doing his best in helping you, but it wasn’t enough for him. He did the unthinkable and sank to his knees.

“Please, do whatever you can to keep my girlfriend alive. I’ll do anything.” Dr.Phillip gave your boyfriend a few minutes to calm down before motioning for him to stand up.

“If she does chemo, it’ll prolong her life for a few more months. She has stage 4 brain cancer. I’m so sorry, but there’s nothing we can do. Y/n only has 6 months left to live, if she’s lucky. We’ve done all there is we could do Mr.Tuan. You just have to make the most of her time left.”

Mark let out a scoff before storming out of his office and making his way back to you. His tears were hot against his cheeks as they fell and he practically broke the door as he opened it, not wanting to be away from you any longer. As soon as his eyes landed on your mom as she held your hands in hers, his tears began to overflow as his sons grew louder.

Your boyfriend wanted to be strong, especially because he had a huge feeling things were going to go downhill once he gave your parents the news. Out of all your siblings, you and your mom had the closest relationship. Mark knew just how much you meant to one another and he knew the only person who loved you as much as he did was her. So he was confident her world would come crumbling down just as his did once he heard about your condition.

“Mark sweetie, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” He took no time in pulling her against his chest and continued to sob in to her hair. His grip was tight on her shoulders and countless apologies fell from his lips only worrying your mother even more than she already was.

“Y/n—y/n—she—she um—stage four cancer—brain tumor—6 months to live—“ he couldn’t even finish explaining to her what the doctor told him before she sank to the ground in hysterics. Hearing her cries fill the room was all too much for Mark to handle. It was a slap in the face by reality that this was really happening and he was going to lose you.

The two of them stayed like that on the floor for what felt like hours to Mark just holding one another while crying uncontrollably. Nurses came in and out of the room to change your iv and to see how you were doing, but it was overwhelming even for them to see Mark and your mom breaking down. After a few moments, your parents wanted to speak to the doctor themselves, leaving Mark all alone with you and the negative thoughts that were taking up his entire mind.

6 months. He had approximately only 6 months with you. How was he supposed accept this information? 6 months was nothing, not when he believed he was going to spend the rest of his life with you. What was he going to do? Two days went by and Mark did not leave your side once. At all. He informed his family and a few of his close friends about what happened and the love and support he was receiving from everyone was nice, but it wasn’t enough to fill the hole that was now in his heart.

He couldn’t eat nor has he gotten any sleep since he heard about you getting administered in to the hospital and everyone started to worry for him but they knew not to get involved. You were all Mark knew and wanted to know. From the time he woke up to the time he went to sleep, you were all he ever thought about. How much he loved you, how much you meant to him, what your future together was going to look like; he couldn’t get you off of his mind not that he ever wanted to.

To his dismay, both your parents and his parents forced him to go home and get some rest, telling him that you wouldn’t be happy if you knew how he was acting towards this entire situation. Everyone was hurting for him. Anybody who knew the two of you were completely aware that if soulmates existed, you and Mark were each other’s. Wherever you went, Mark followed. Whatever you did, Mark did too. The two of you were like magnets; peas in a pod. It was completely understandable for him to be acting like this. Your boyfriend felt like a stranger in his own body. He felt lifeless. Even when he went home, your absence was taunting him. All your clothes, pictures, makeup, your little trinkets; they were driving him insane.

One day, this was all going to be memorabilia. Things that you’ve owned; it would only remind him of your untimely death and he wanted nothing more than to punch a wall out of frustration. The only thing he did once he walked through your shared apartment was take a shower. Showering felt like such a chore to him. What normally took him fifteen to twenty minutes almost took an hour because he just stood there crying.

If he was already acting like this while you were in a coma, Mark was afraid of what life would be life if you were to actually leave. Almost two days later, Mark got a call from your mom telling him that you were awake and that you knew everything. He found himself asking Jinyoung to take him to the hospital because God knows he wouldn’t have been able to drive there himself. Jinyoung had to calm him down as they waited for the elevators and it seemed as if his patience was at an all time low.

Right as he was about to make his way to the stairs, the doors opened and he fumbled with pressing the buttons to your floor. Your entire family was waiting outside of your room and he felt a pang of hurt hit his chest with every sympathetic look he was receiving. He felt selfish for wanting to be alone with you, but once he walked in to the room and saw that you were awake, he practically threw himself at you and wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m so glad you’re awake, fuck—shit I’m sorry baby—I’ve missed you so much.” He stole a kiss from the corner of your mouth and didn’t even hold himself back from crying. His choked back sobs made your heart ache and you found yourself erupting in tears also. Your parents quietly made their way outside to give you both some space as the two of you held each other and cried. He began leaving chaste kisses all around your face and cupped your cheeks with his hands before roughly connecting your lips together. His lips were salty from the tears and you knew he hasn’t been taking care of himself with how chapped they felt, but you missed the feeling of his warm lips on yours and you wanted him to kiss you as much as he desired to. To his dismay, you pulled away to catch your breath and placed your forehead against his.

“Mark.” He hummed softly in curiosity as you made room for him on the bed. “Hold me?” He gave you a sad smile and joined you on the bed, all but gently wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you on top of his lap.

When your mother informed you about your cancer, you couldn’t believe a word she was saying. You’ve always read stories and watched videos about other people getting diagnosed with cancer and you always felt so sad for the patients; especially with everything they had to go through. You just never thought that it would happen to you. Nobody thinks something bad will happen to them until it does. You cried with your mom; the idea of leaving this earth before really getting to experience your life felt unreal. You didn’t want to be without your family, your friends—Mark.

When she gave you the bad news, your mind immediately drifted off to your boyfriend. Did he know? Of course he had to, you faintly remember your mom mentioning how he got in to an argument with your doctor, held her as she cried and how he always stayed with you for the last few days. You knew Mark would take your diagnosis the worst. Seeing him so pale, so emaciated brought tears to your cheeks. He was always so sensitive and so emotional which was one of the many things you loved about him. But with the way he pampered you, took such amazing care of you and needed to be with you as much as he could only worried you. You were afraid of what he was going to do once it was your time to go.

“You haven’t been eating have you, you’re already so skinny. You need to eat—“ his brows furrowed as he tightened his grip on your waist.

“How am I supposed to do anything at a time like this y/n?” You frowned although you knew where he was coming from. You brought your fingers up to his face and playfully attempted to lift up his lips in to a smile but he wasn’t having it.

“Smile for me baby, please? I’ve missed seeing your award winning smile. I’ve missed you. I didn’t even realize how long I’ve been gone for.” He looked at you in disbelief; as if you grew another head.

“How are you being so positive right now? I feel pathetic. Like I’m failing as a boyfriend. I’m supposed to be strong for you, hell, I’m not even the one going through this but I can’t seem to stop crying. What is wrong with me?”

You ran your fingers through his soft, brown locks and sent him a broken smile. “You’re human my love. It’s okay for you to be frustrated and upset. I was when the doctor talked to me. I almost didn’t believe him at first—I mean I didn’t want to believe him. Who wants to die? I’m only twenty-four years old. There’s so many things I want to do and now my life is being put to an end before it can even start. It isn’t fair, but I’m trying to stay positive about it because I don’t want to remember wasting my last few months here on earth being depressed about something that I have no control over. If it’s my time, then it’s my time. I know God has a plan for me and that he’ll take good care of me; so we just have to take this one day at a time.”

Mark’s chest began to heave against your back and you turned yourself around in order to hover on top of his lap. You brought your hand up to cup his face and wiped away a few of his tears.

“Y/n, I hope you know, that I love you with every fiber of my being and I’m going to spend every single day with you to the point where you’ll probably get tired of me but it doesn’t matter. You’re not going to suffer through this alone, you hear me? I’m going to be by your side every step of the way. Please tell me if there’s anything I can do for you to make this situation a little more easier. I’ll do anything for you.”

You beamed up at him and playfully stole a few sloppy kisses while toying with his fingers. “Why don’t you make a bucket list? I want you to come up with anything you want to do and I promise I’ll do my best to make sure we do it.”

No matter how upset and heartbroken you were over your diagnosis, your heart felt so warm with the way Mark was treating you. Even before the two of you started dating, your boyfriend was always so kind and gentle whenever it came to you and he always put you first in every single situation. Looking at him hurt. Knowing that you would no longer get to feel the warmth of his embrace; kissing his pretty, pink lips; hearing that beautiful contagious laughter of his sent a painful sensation to your stomach. The love you had for one another was indescribable.

He was like your lifeline and you knew he was suffering with retaining this information. If it was the other way around and he was the one who was sick, you would probably die of heartbreak. You never wanted to be without him and it was the same for him.

“Oh like anal?” He looked at you in disbelief before his choked up laughter filled the room.

“I mean—if that’s what you want baby—don’t make me laugh y/n. God, what am I going to do without you?” You shook your head and hid your face in the crook of his neck.

“Can you do something for me Mark?” He quickly nodded in agreement knowing he would do anything you asked of him in a heartbeat. “Let’s pretend as if nothing is wrong with me? Okay? I don’t want you to look at me as your sick girlfriend. I don’t want to be treated like a cancer patient. I want to live what’s left of my life freely. I know it’ll be hard, but I don’t want us to be sad.”

He took in a deep breath and nodded softly in agreement. The two of you stayed like that for a couple of moments, just basking in the other’s presence. Some of your family members and a few nurses came in and out of your room every so often but neither of you really paid them any mind. You were too focused on each other. Just a few days later, you were released from the hospital and were given the okay to return back to work with the responsibility of not overworking yourself. You were also given medication along with a meal plan to help with prolonging your health.

The doctor who helped you throughout your entire stay recommended chemotherapy and even waved your entire hospital fee. Mark knew it had a lot to do with their conversation a few days prior and even if he was an asshole to the older man, he was very grateful for all that he tried to do for you in the short amount of time you were administered.

Mark wasn’t lying when he said he was never going to leave your side. Wherever you went, your boyfriend trailed right behind you. He attended every single doctor’s appointment, went with you grocery shopping; he even went with you to the bathroom and patiently sat on the floor. As much as you hated being a burden, you knew he was adamant on spending as much time with you as possible. When you were released from the hospital, you began to plan out your entire bucket list together. You tried to make it as realistic as you could; but you threw in a few things that were extremely out of the box.

“You want to skydive? But you hate heights.” You shrugged indifferently.

“I know you used to hate whenever BamBam and Yugyeom would say this, but yolo. I also want to go skiing in Colorado and bungee jumping in Hawaii. You gotta keep up with me Tuan.”

He grinned at your sarcasm before continuing to look over your ideas. “Wait—you were serious about the kinky shit? Bdsm y/n? I mean—don’t get me wrong baby I’m all for it but—“ you rolled your eyes and playfully shoved his shoulder.

“Can’t have sex in the afterlife so might as well make the most of it while I still can. By the way, I mean it on you. I’ve always wanted to use a blindfold on you and tie you to the bed.”

“How are you going to explain all of this to God when he asks about your sinful decisions?”

“YOLO.”

The more time you and Mark spent together, the more he’d forget about your sickness and short amount of time left on earth. If he didn’t think about it, he would enjoy his time with you. But the more he’d listen to you laugh at something cheesy he said or the way you’d hold on to him while the two of you lounged around on your days off made his heart hurt.

He knew it was the moments like these that he was going to miss the most. When it was just the two of you having fun, enjoying the other’s presence. Mark would never show you that he was extremely miserable because he didn’t want you feeling worried or upset; so he found himself crying in the shower and sometimes in the middle of the night while you slept peacefully. You were so strong during the entire process and Mark was so proud of you for fighting so hard.

Only two weeks after your stay in the hospital, you decided to quit your job in order to focus on your boyfriend, your friends and your family and to spend your days doing things you loved without having anything to stress over. One by one, you and Mark began to cross things off your bucket list. As much as you wanted to travel around the world, you knew that there was more important things you actually had to spend your money on; but what you didn’t know was that your family secretly purchased both your’s and Mark’s tickets and even paid for your hotel rooms so that you and your boyfriend could experience your dream adventure together.

The two of you took a tour throughout Europe; you have always dreamt about going to Greece and Italy from the time you were a little girl and you had thought that one day you’d be able to do so with Mark. Your trip was everything you could have ever wanted and more. You got to visit every monument and scenic point that was on your itinerary, ate till your stomachs were full and took pictures practically everywhere. Everything was so exciting to you that you failed to notice your boyfriend taking hundreds of photos and countless videos of you.

On his downtime, he began to make a album in his phone dedicated to you with thousands of both pictures and videos of you from the time you started dating up until now. He even printed out numerous about of photos and started a photo book that he could look back on whenever he missed you but deep down, Mark already knew he would never be able to look at any picture or photo of you without crying a river. When the two of you returned back, he gave you no time to unpack your things and surprised you with tickets to Hawaii.

Besides Europe, Hawaii was in your top three places you wanted to travel to because of how beautiful it looked in photos and because of the love you had for the beach. Mark even booked a skydiving appointment on your initial first day and although a huge part of you was scared out of your mind to fall out of a plane that was 20,000 feet in the air, you felt like you could do anything with Mark by your side. It was such an amazing experience; you felt so free, so powerful. Seeing how far you were from the ground was intimidating, but the comforting caress against your wrist made it all worth your while.

You both spent every second doing something adventurous; rock climbing, atv cruising, zip lining and horseback riding. He also took you to a couple of beaches and the two of you would just cuddle up on the sand and watch the waves crash up on to the shore. It all seemed too good to be true; you had no responsibilities, no worries, no regrets and you were traveling the world with the love of your life. You couldn’t have been more happier.

However, everything seemed to come crashing down the minute you started chemotherapy. Your doctor explained that chemotherapy helped with extending your life and you took any chance you were given. When you and Mark arrived back home from your trip, you went straight to your doctor’s office and began scheduling your chemotherapy sessions. You’ve read countless horror stories about the negative effects of chemotherapy and it was in those moments, hearing about how lethargic and exhausted you’d get, the loss of appetite and how quickly your hair would fall out made it all the more real that this was actually happening.

Your hair began to fall out during the first session and you decided to shave your head bald before it could actually fall out completely. When you took a look in the mirror, you cried for what felt like hours. You felt so ugly; especially when your eyebrows started falling out. This caused you to lash out on Mark every so often; you grew extremely unhappy and felt so insecure no matter how many times Mark reassured you that you were still and would always be the most beautiful girl he’s ever laid his eyes on. Your boyfriend hated seeing you so bothered with the way you looked knowing that there was nothing you could do about it.

As much as he despised hearing you talk so negatively about yourself, he knew it was only natural for you to act this way. To your surprise and your delight, you woke up that next morning to the sound of a buzzer and when you got up out of bed to find the source of the buzzing noise, it was then that you saw Mark shaving both his hair and his eyebrows off. Your heart felt so warm and you were sure it was about to combust with all the love you felt for the devastatingly handsome man in front of you. You didn’t know what you did to deserve Mark; he was nothing but patient with you no matter how harsh you could treat him some days.

He knew you didn’t mean it, anger and hostility was a side effect of the chemo and the only thing he could do in order to help you was support you and be there for you no matter how rude you were treating him. “I hate how good you look with no hair, it’s unfair. Thank you for doing this for me by the way—you don’t understand how much it means to me—how much you mean to me. You mean so much to me Mark—you mean everything—I love you more than I can put in to words.”

He giggled softly before kissing away the tears that were coming down your cheeks. “I guess you haven’t seen yourself these days. You look breathtakingly beautiful baby. I’m so sorry you have to go through this; I know I say it every single day but it’s the truth. It’s so hard for me watching you suffer and not being able to help carry this burden with you no matter how badly I want to. I want you to know that you’re so fucking beautiful y/n. With and without hair, with and without make up, with and without eyebrows. With and without clothes—ow! I’m being serious stop being abusive. Don’t you dare for one minute think you’re ugly, you hear me? I told you I wasn’t going to let you go through this alone didn’t I? Come on my beautiful cry baby, let’s go take some pictures of our adorable matching bald heads. Honestly, I think we look ten times better, who needs hair?”

A wise man once said, time flies when you’re having fun. As the days continued to go by, you only grew weaker and you had to slow down with your movements. Most of your time was spent in your apartment, but it didn’t matter. You loved every single minute spent cuddled in to Mark’s chest. Mark was constantly reminded of the little time you had left as he watched your frame only get smaller and it was driving him insane. Life wasn’t fair. Your boyfriend didn’t think he was a bad guy.

He was religious for the most part; attended church every so often but prayed every single day. He never smoked nor did any drugs and only drank on occasion. His grades were impeccable; he strived for A’s and B’s and never accepted any lower grade; so why was he being punished? Why was the only good thing that’s ever happened to him, the only thing that has ever meant anything to him being taken away from him so soon? And you; you were such a bright, happy-go-lucky, golden-hearted person; why did you have to suffer and go through so much pain?

Your boyfriend decided to give you something that you’ve always wanted after talking to his friends about the idea. He was going to ask you to marry him. There were so many times where the two of you talked about your future; where you wanted to have your wedding at, how many kids you’ve dreamt of having, where you wanted to settle down—he couldn’t believe he was never going to be able to experience any of these milestones with you, which is why he found himself sneaking away while you were asleep to ask your parents for their blessing.

Your mom smiled softly at him when he brought up the idea of marrying you; it was the biggest smile he’s seen on her since you found out about the cancer and your dad was extremely supportive about the whole thing. In fact, your parents offered to pay for the entire wedding. Whatever you desired, they were willing to give you. Before he could leave, your mom pulled him in to a hug and comfortingly ran her hand along his back.

“I’ve never seen someone love another person as much as you and y/n love each other. From the minute the two of you began dating, I knew you guys were meant to be. You make her very happy Mark. I’m so sorry this had to happen. But thank you for taking such amazing care of my baby girl. Just know that you are the reason why she’s still alive. She’s going to fight to stay alive till her final breath and it’s all because of you. You’re her angel Mark and she is yours. She’ll always be.”

He wanted to be strong in front of your parents, but he couldn’t prevent the tears from falling at your mother’s words. Your mom held him and allowed him to cry for a couple of minutes before she told him to head back over to you. As soon as he left your parent’s house, he met up with Jackson and BamBam to look for the ideal engagement ring. You deserved nothing but the best and your boyfriend was going to make sure that’s what you received. He had Youngjae and Jinyoung stay with you while the three of them went shopping because he hated the idea of you being alone. You were still mobile, but it took you longer to get around and he didn’t want you moving a finger if you didn’t have to.

Bringing Jackson and BamBam was a mistake; not only were they extremely picky, but they couldn’t agree on a ring. If BamBam liked a ring, Jackson would find something wrong with it and vice versa. Either the diamond was too small or too big; the baby was too thick or too wide. There wasn’t a ring that caught their eye. Mark however, couldn’t stop over-choosing to the point where he had selected at least eight different rings. The three men stayed longer than your boyfriend had hoped. He wanted to hurry up and propose to you so that the two of you could get married and spend the rest of your days as a newlywed couple.

After almost an hour, the jeweler pulled Mark to the side and had him explain his love for you, describe your personality, your likes, your personal style and what he’d think you’d want in a wedding ring. He then brought out the prettiest diamond ring Mark has ever seen. It was simple, but yet extremely elegant and eye catching; just like you. It was a gold band with a nicely sized diamond with two smaller diamonds on either side.

Your boyfriend didn’t care what the other two thought; he felt it was perfect and deep down, he knew you’d love it. After purchasing the ring, he picked up a bouquet of your favorite flowers, a couple balloons, a cake and some food on his way home. His mind was filled with worry and he was growing distressed and he didn’t know why. But Jackson and BamBam tried their best to calm him down.

The two younger guys knew you were going to say yes; even if Mark were to propose with a ring pop you’d still be over the moon. When he arrived home, he smiled at the image of you smashed in between Youngjae and Jinyoung while watching something on Netflix. He was also quick to notice Yugyeom and Jaebum sitting on the ground, wanting to be as close to you as possible. You giggled at something you saw and Mark found himself smiling at how adorable you were. He took a look at his friends and he felt embarrassed as the tears built up seeing how much they loved and cared about you.

To say they were devastated when they heard of the news was an understatement. In fact, that was the first time Mark has ever seen Jinyoung and Yugyeom cry. You’ve been in their lives for as long as you’ve been in Mark’s, so it was only natural for them to have grown attached to you and you treated them all like they were your older brothers. The three younger boys took it the hardest; there was a point after your first chemo session that BamBam had to stay away because seeing you so broken and not your usual excited and outgoing self was heartbreaking and too much for him to handle. However, after a talk from Jaebum and Jackson about how they needed to spend as much time with you as possible, he visited you whenever Mark allowed them to come over. When you noticed your boyfriend and your two friends make their way in to the apartment, you attempted to stand up and walk over to greet them, but the right grip on your biceps ultimately prevented you from doing so.

“Woah, woah, woah, slow down fast and the furious, he’s coming y/n. Don’t you dare move a pretty little finger.” You released a frustrated sigh and pouted adorably up at Jinyoung. It was like this the entire day; whenever you wanted to do something, eat, or go to use the bathroom, the guys were quick to do whatever you needed for you. Although you were grateful for their kindness and generosity, there were times that you’ve missed being able to do even the most simplest tasks such as your laundry and doing the dishes on your own. Mark briskly walked over to you and placed a sweet kiss on your lips before cupping your cheek.

“Did the guys take good care of you today?” Your laughter erupted through the room when you heard both Youngjae and Yugyeom scoff at your boyfriend’s question before nodding.

“They didn’t let me do anything at all. Jaebum carried me to the bathroom three times. Jinyoung doesn’t even let me touch the remote.” He giggled at your frustration before politely thanking his friends.

“Can you guys help me bring her to the room?” They all began giving each other knowing looks and grinned widely when they realized what was going to happen. You on the other hand looked at your boyfriend in confusion but decided to let it go. Mark picked you up bridal style but had the guys help him to make sure you didn’t hit the wall or anything along the way. Once you all made it to your room, he placed you down gently on the bed and handed you the flowers. The guys slowly left the room but not before wishing Mark good luck and sending you a few winks. You thanked him before reaching out to run a hand through his hair.

“Everything okay my love?” He nodded slowly before making his way to your side of the bed and you gasped as he got down on one knee. You couldn’t process entirely what was happening, but your heart felt so full. Mark was going to propose to you; when you were first told about your condition, you gave up any idea of getting married because you knew you wouldn’t live long enough to walk down the aisle. Your boyfriend always had tricks up his sleeve and he didn’t even get to say anything yet; you were already crying.

“Baby.”

You looked down at him with so much love and admiration and allowed him to continue. “These last few years have been the best years of my entire life and I owe it all to you. You’ve shown me so much love, compassion, support and kindness throughout our relationship. Only a few months after we started dating, I knew you were the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. You’re my best friend y/n. My soulmate. My safe haven. My happy place. You make me the happiest man alive and there’s nothing I would love more than for you to say yes to being my wife. I love you y/n, more than I can fathom in to words. You mean everything to me. I know you didn’t write it down on the list, but we’ve been together long enough for me to know you like the back of my hand baby. You’ve been talking about marriage even before we started dating. I wanted to be able to grant this wish for you. I have the wedding already planned out, all that’s needed is for you to say yes. Y/n, will you marry me?”

You took no time in connecting your lips together and smiled widely in to the kiss as your way of saying yes. The tears were hot against your cheeks; the beautiful man in front of you was truly an angel sent to you from heaven to take care of you and it was an indescribable feeling.

“Yes, yes, yes! I love you so much Mark—I can’t wait to marry you. The ring is perfect baby. Thank you so much. You’re extraordinary.” He jumped on the bed with you and pulled you on top of his chest while roughly connecting your lips together. Your hands made their way around his neck as his gripped tightly on your waist. The two of you were so invested in kissing one another that Mark failed to remember the six other guys waiting patiently outside the door to hear the good news.

“I’ll be right back my love. I’m gonna go kick the guys out so I can show you just how excited I am to marry you.” He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead before making his way out in to the living room. Your fiancé left the door ajar, so you could hear the entire conversation with him and your friends and it made you blush.

“She said yes! We’re getting married guys! Thank you for everything you’ve done for us so far. I can’t wait to see her walk down the aisle.” The room filled with cheers and laughter and soon Mark was being pulled in to multiple embraces.

“Congratulations bro! Shall we celebrate now? Bring out the cake Yugyeom—“ Mark scratched the back of his neck shyly before speaking up.

“Um, about that—my fiancée and I would like to celebrate alone if that’s alright. You guys can all come back later if you’d want to.” He earned himself a few cheeky smiles and a couple of snide comments, but it was all in good fun. Luckily the guys were extremely understanding and left your apartment to let you and Mark relinquish in your love for one another.

We don't have forever Ooh, baby daylight's wasting You better kiss me Before our time has run out Mmm yeah Nobody sees what we see They're just hopelessly gazing, oh Oh, baby take me, me Before they turn the lights out Before our time has run out Baby love me lights out

After a passionate afternoon of intense and steamy love making, you and Mark ordered some pizza and watched a couple of movies before you both called it a night. Over the course of two weeks, you and Mark began your wedding planning and what was normally an exhausting experience for most brides, went very smoothly for you. You knew it’s because Mark did most of the contacting and the planning in general; he bribed his friends with some beer and fried chicken to help with writing and sending out the invitations. All you had to do was find your dream dress and pick out the kind of cake and food you wanted. Everything else, Mark took care of.

As much as you had dreamt of getting married at a beach, he wanted to have the wedding somewhere that would be easy for you to be pushed around in a wheelchair. Seeing you so dependent and incapable of even walking especially since you were always so independent made him feel bad. He was aware of how much it bothered you having to ask for help when you were always the one helping others. Your fiancé wanted you to be comfortable throughout the entire ceremony and to enjoy every second of it without being in any pain or discomfort. It seemed as if everything went by so fast and before you knew it, the day of your wedding finally came.

You went over to your parent’s house to get ready; you had voiced your opinion about whether or not you should wear a wig because you felt extremely insecure but Mark was very outspoken about how exceptionally beautiful you were and never let you feel negative about yourself. He felt useless every time you cried over how skinny and frail your body was becoming on top of no longer having hair. As much as he reassured you that you’d always be so ethereal in his eyes, it was only natural for you to depreciate yourself.

Mark ordered dozens of sunflowers and they were currently filling up the entire church that the two of you grew up in. He didn’t care how much everything was going to cost; your happiness and any memory made with you was priceless. All of both your’s and Mark’s friends and families sat on either side; waiting for both you and your soon to be husband to enter. When Mark walked in alongside six of his best friends and his younger brother, looking at everyone who was there to celebrate the two of you becoming one made him smile like an idiot. He was dying to see you; throughout the entire time the two of you were getting ready, he kept texting you asking you for photos to which you politely kept shutting him down.

Mark knew he had to be patient and that seeing the bride before the wedding was bad luck, but he was just so excited. Jackson, BamBam and Yugyeom began teasing him every so often while they waited for your arrival. If it was during any other situation, he would’ve been annoyed with them for messing around with him but their jokes helped calm his nerves. Before he knew it, the music grew louder and everyone stood up. As soon as his eyes landed on you, tears built up at the corner of his eyes and he allowed them to fall. He didn’t care if he was crying in front of all your family and friends.

You looked so beautiful; so perfect. You were a sight for sore eyes. Mark didn’t think it was possible for you to look even more beautiful than you already were, but like you always did; you proved him wrong. Your dad was currently pushing you in a wheelchair down the aisle and you smiled softly at everyone who came in to view. Seeing Mark practically bawl his eyes out made you tear up; he was always so sensitive and it was something you admired about him. Your dad pulled Mark in to a hug before handing you over to him.

“Congratulations again, take care of my princess.”

“I will.” Mark released a sigh of awe, he couldn’t believe you were real and that he was actually getting married to the love of his life.

“Can you stand baby?” You nodded slowly and he intertwined your fingers before lifting you up.

“Lean on me if you need to okay? You look extremely beautiful by the way—so so so beautiful. I can’t stop looking at you.” You beamed up at him.

“And you look very handsome.” The two of you were so busy in your own little worlds that you didn’t notice all your guests looking at the two of you with so much adoration. The pastor began the ceremony and you couldn’t help to stifle a laugh watching your fiancé make faces at you during the entire speech. His grip was tight against your hands and you could feel him shaking, but it was cute and so was he.

“Shall we start the vows?” Mark nodded before pulling out a piece of folder paper. He gave you a knowing look when he heard a giggle fall from your lips; Mark was quite the procrastinator and he was never really one to be professional unless he had to. Seeing the crumpled piece of folder paper proved that he was extremely laid back and didn’t care to be proper.

“Over ten years ago, I fell in love with the most amazing, wonderful, kind-hearted, hard-working, generous and breathtakingly beautiful girl to exist. You and I started off as friends, but I knew early on that you’d be someone special to me. There aren’t enough words in the dictionary to describe the love I have for you. You make me the happiest person alive just by existing. No matter how hard life gets, the mere thought of you is what keeps me going. I thank God every single day for allowing me to be the lucky man who gets to love you. Your smile can light up an entire room and your laugh—don’t get me started on your laugh. It’s the cutest sound in the entire world and I could probably listen to you laugh for hours. These last few months have been rough for us, but you never fail to impress me with your strength, your faith and your selflessness. You’re my biggest role model y/n. Everything I do, I do it with you in mind. I want to make you proud, I want to give you the world you deserve and more. God y/n, you deserve everything. I’m going to do whatever I can to make sure that beautiful smile of yours stays on your face. You’re my forever baby, I love you with everything I have and I’m always going to love you.”

Once he was done, you playfully punched his chest causing everyone in the chapel to erupt in laughter. “You asshole, I knew I should’ve worn waterproof mascara. I know I won’t be able to top that—well here it goes. The term soulmates was always a foreign word to me. Out of the millions of people in the world, there is no way two people are destined to be together. But my opinion changed the moment we started dating. If soulmates exist, you are mine and I am yours. The word love isn’t even enough to describe the feelings I have for you. You’re the reason for my existence Mark. You make me so happy. Thank you, for everything. For all the sacrifices you’ve made for me, for all the meals you’ve cooked, all the times you stayed up and watched friends with me because you know how obsessed I am with the show, helping me with every shower, coming with me to every single appointment, for making me laugh and smile during such a hard time. I never felt alone once through this entire experience. You’re out of this world you know that? I could never thank you enough for all the love you’ve given me. You give me strength Mark; you’ve given me so much hope and never fail to remind me how beautiful you think I am and how much I mean to you every single day. Thank you for doing whatever you possibly could in these last few months to be able to make sure I got to do everything I’ve wanted to do while I still could. There was no time for me to even think about my condition, I was too focused on the overflowing love you’ve been giving me. And thank you, for showing me what love is. For giving me the best love I could have ever asked for in this lifetime. I can do anything with you by my side. You are my home Mark Tuan. I love you.”

You giggled as the tears continued to flow down his cheeks and brought your thumb up to his face to wipe them away.

“Do you y/n, take Mark Tuan—“

“I do.”

“And do you Mark Tuan—“

“I do.”

The priest laughed softly as you put your wedding bands on both of your fingers. “With the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Mark took no time lifting up your chin and smashing his lips against yours. Your heart fluttered with how passionate he was kissing you and when he smiled in to the kiss, you returned the ministration. The rest of the wedding went off without a hitch and it was honestly the best day of your entire life. Mark took the time to feed you against your complaints and your cheeks were in pain from how much you’ve been laughing throughout the entire night. Every time you looked at Mark, your heart rate would increase. No matter how many times he’s told you that he loves you, he never failed to show you through his actions just how much you meant to him.

Once the wedding was over, Mark brought you to a hotel and the two of you spent your first night as a married couple underneath the sheets with your bodies intertwined and lips practically fighting each other for dominance.

Unfortunately, only three weeks after your wedding; God decided it was time for you to return home. As much as nobody wanted to accept it, they all knew it was coming. You were rushed to the hospital after passing out while you and Mark were watching some random movie on Netflix. Although nobody had said anything, your husband knew it was time.

You were surrounded with all your friends and family. The room you were in and even the hallway outside were filled with heartbreaking sobs and mumbled screams; mainly from the love of your life. His grip was tight on your arm as he began to pray that you stayed just a little while more but he knew it was too much for him to ask for.

“M—Mark.” He looked up at you and quickly got up while bringing your face in to his hands.

“Yes baby?” You gave him a sad smile.

“Thank you—for everything. I can die happy knowing I lived such an amazing life—and I have you to thank. I love you more than anything Mark. I can’t wait to meet with you again. I’ll be waiting—“ when you took your last breath, your husband sank to his knees and let out the most gut wrenching cry. Jackson went over to pull him in to his chest, but Jinyoung prevented him from doing so. The older man needed his space. Everyone in the room were already crying, but seeing Mark so broken, so distressed was such a terrible sight to see. He knew it was coming, but he was never prepared to lose you. He found the strength to get up from off the ground and gently sat on the bed with you and pulled your lifeless body in to his embrace. “Come back to me—please. I can’t do this without you.”

The first few weeks after your death were some of the worst moments of Mark’s entire life. Coming to terms with your death and learning to live without you was something he knew he’d never get used to; he never wanted to. It all felt surreal to him. You were there just a few days ago, smiling, laughing, kissing him, holding him and whispering countless love confessions in his ear. He wanted to die. There was no way he’d be able to learn to live without you.

Mark found himself contemplating his life; he couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep and he hated having to interact with people. Although he was extremely thankful for all the outpour of sympathy he’s been receiving, he was tired of hearing it. It was a constant reminder that you were no longer around. Jinyoung forced Mark to move in with him because he knew it would be torture for him to continue living in your shared apartment.

As much as he wanted to continue wallowing in his self pity, he knew your mother must’ve been taking it very hard. It felt like it was just yesterday that he called her to tell her about you being in the ER. Now you were in the clouds, hopefully smiling down on him and watching over him. Your friends were afraid of losing Mark completely; they were afraid of what he was capable of doing in order to be with you again. If he wasn’t to commit suicide, he would probably die of a broken heart, they were sure of it.

Waking up every morning without you there felt like a chore and he no longer wanted to do it. There was one day in particular that he was ready to just give it all up and end his life. He felt like there was nothing worth living for anymore. As he began thinking about what he would do, it was then that he heard a little voice in his head leading him back to your apartment. He knew it was you, it had to be. The voice gave him directions to go in your closet and to take out the blue box hiding in your vanity. It took every bone in his body to even return back to your apartment, let alone touch something of yours. He never moved anything since your death.

The cup that you last drank from sat on the coffee table and it was still full of the caramel macchiato you failed to finish. He didn’t have to courage to dump it out nor could he even look at your side of the bed without screaming. He felt as if he was living his worst nightmare and it was a reoccurring thing every morning he woke up. When he opened the box, he took a seat on the ground and found a letter addressed to him. Why didn’t you tell him about this letter earlier? Or why didn’t you give it to him before you passed? How was he supposed to find it without knowing about it or where it was? He ran his finger over your handwriting and bit his lip to prevent the choked sob that was building up at the back of his throat from coming out. As soon as he opened the card, he was a mess. He couldn’t even get past his name before the tears began to pour.

“To: the love of my life,

My Mark. My sweet Yi-En. If you’re reading this, then I’m no longer here. I hope you know, that I miss you so much. God, I was so afraid to die because I didn’t want to be without you. I know I told you God has a plan for me and I know he has a plan for you too. Please baby, find the strength to move on. Don’t worry about me okay? I’m fine. I’m no longer in pain anymore and just know I’m watching over you and counting down the days until we get to meet each other again. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me Mark. I know it’s going to be hard, but promise me you’ll live your life to the fullest. You own my heart baby, always have and always will. Don’t forget to eat your meals and take your vitamins. We all know how sensitive your body is so you better take good care of yourself since I can no longer do so. If you die Mark Tuan, I will kill you. Please don’t beat yourself up about my death. None of this is your fault okay? It’s just a part of life. We will never understand why it was my time, but I meant what I said in my vows. You’re the reason I stayed around for so long. The doctor predicted that I only had six months left and I lived for almost an entire year. You’re the reason my love. You never failed to care for me and gave me your undying love and attention. You’re an angel Mark. My sweet angel. I give you permission to look for love when you’re ready. I’ll make sure to let you know whether or not I approve of her. Whatever will make you happy again Mark, don’t hesitate to do it. Unless it’s drugs, then I’ll really kill you. You’re forever in my mind, my heart, my thoughts and my prayers. Thank you for being my person. I’ll be waiting for you baby. I love you forever, Love, y/n.”

10 years later

“Daddy, where are we going?”

Mark looked at his beautiful three-year-old daughter in his rear view mirror and hummed contently. “We’re gonna go visit grandma and grandpa Faith.”

The little girl looked at him in confusion. “Didn’t we just see them yesterday?” He laughed at how smart she was and his heart began to warm at the sight of the all too familiar road.

It’s been a while since he’s been here and he can still see himself walking up to the door and hiding his hands in his pockets at the idea of taking you out on your first date. After reading your letter, Mark decided that he would learn to live for you. He moved away almost immediately and found himself traveling amongst the many different places the two of you visited together. He’d call your mom every so often to see how she was doing, but it was still too real to him no matter how many years have gone by.

He took Faith out of her car seat and carried her up to the door. When he rang the doorbell, he heard your mom call out that she was coming and he couldn’t help the smile that rose on his face when she finally opened the door.

“Mark, sweetheart look at you! You still look so handsome. It’s been so long. And who is this?” The little girl waved at your mom and smiled politely.

“I’m Faith. Nice to meet you grandma.” Your mom beamed at the little girl before pulling the two of them in to her embrace.

“Come inside, let me get you something to drink. What brings you here Mark? It’s been a while dear, how have you been?”

He took in your parent’s living room and his heart began to sink. Nothing changed. There were so many photos of you scattered amongst the shelves and on the walls; your wedding photo hung right above the fireplace.

“I um—we visited my parents yesterday and my mom brought you up. I wanted to come see you. It’s—her ten year anniversary in two weeks. I can’t believe it’s been so long.” Your mom handed him a cup of coffee and gave Faith a cup of orange juice.

“I know. I think about her and miss her all the time. Sometimes I daydream about what life would be like if she were still here. Your mom tells me you and Jinyoung started up a charity organization together. That’s amazing sweetheart. Y/n would’ve been so proud of you.”

He smiled softly at the sound of your name. Has it really been ten years since he’s last heard your contagious laugh and felt your soft lips against his? It’s been so long that sometimes he had a hard time believing you once existed and that you weren’t a figment of his imagination.

“Your daughter is so beautiful and such a smart girl. Your mother didn’t mention anything about you getting remarried, but I’m glad to hear that you are moving on—“ to your mom’s surprise, he shook his head in disagreement and motioned over to where Faith was watching television.

“I adopted her from an orphanage in Taiwan almost two years ago. Her parents gave her away right after she was born. I don’t know—but something told me to adopt her. She’s such a wonderful little girl and she helps fill the void. Y/n took a huge part of me with her when she left. I wanted to give up on it all so that I could be with her again—but she made me promise her that I would continue to live life and attempt to look for happiness again. That little girl is my happiness.”

Your mom wiped away a stray tear before reaching out to squeeze his hand. “That’s so kind of you Mark. You’ve always been such a generous and kind-hearted human being. Your parents raised you well. But it’s been ten years. Y/n would’ve wanted you to start looking for a companion—“

“Y/n was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Where do I go when I’ve already had the best? Y/n is always going to own this silly heart of mine. I actually renamed her Faith in memory of y/n. We talked about our future children’s names on multiple occasions and Faith was at the top of her list. I was also inspired in how much faith and trust she had in God during her journey. I’m going to be okay mom. Don’t worry about me. My main focus now is that adorable little toddler, my job and the organization. I had my chance at love and was the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Your mom and your husband talked for a few hours and most of that time was spent reminiscing on your memory and how life was so much better when you were still around. When Faith fell asleep on the couch, Mark decided it was time for the two of them to make their leave. He hugged your mom and promised to come visit her whenever he was in town. After he said his goodbyes, he brought the little girl in to the car and buckled her up slowly in attempts to not wake her. However, her soft voice caught his attention as he began to pull out of the driveway.

“Where we going now daddy?”

Mark knew there was one more place he wanted to visit before making the drive back to his parent’s house.

“We’re gonna go see mommy.”

I love you like XO You love me like XO You kill me boy XO You love me like XO All that I see Give me everything Baby love me lights out Baby love me lights out You can turn my lights outIn the darkest night hour (in the darkest night hour) I'll search through the crowd (I'll search through the crowd) Your face is all that I see I'll give you everything Baby love me lights out Baby love me lights out You can turn my lights out

#got7 imagines #mark tuan #got7 mark #got7 angst #mark tuan imagines #mark tuan angst

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buckyreaderrecs · 5 years ago

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So Far Away: Chapter 4/?

Summary: Bucky Barnes doing what he does best. Saving. Loving. In this particular case, the object of both is you. (Bonus: Bucky Barnes happy, healing, doing really well!) Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3.

Chapter 4: Sometimes the road to recovery is x-rays and pain killers. Sometimes, it's freeeeeesh ava ca doo.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Characters: Bucky Barnes, F.R.I.D.A.Y., Cecilia Reyes Additional tags: mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame didn’t happen, Stark Tower still exists), possible future smut (who knows, not me), she/her pronouns, more tags/characters to be added with future chapters, hero Bucky Barnes, canon typical violence, warzone/disaster zone setting, Alpine the cat, other Marvel characters mentioned but not central to the plot Warnings: possible triggers for anxiety, PTSD, grief

Note: Hi! I am overwhelmingly grateful to everyone who has read this story, and heard my call for inspiration. Because of you, this chapter exists, and I have a better idea of where to take this story. Thank you all so, so much. Honestly. I hope you love this.

So Far Away Chapter 4/?

Waking up in such a soft and safe environment took a hot minute. The danger was so far away from you and comfort was so close. Slowly though, your eyes opened and you tried to sit up. Sloooow mooootion. But then, pain.

You'd apparently slept off the memory of your injured hand, leaning straight onto it. It hurt so badly that you felt dizzy, then quickly sick to your stomach.

Within seconds of hearing you cry out, Bucky was at your side. "Alright, come on, darl'. Knew we should've gone straight to the doc when we got 'ere," he said, the latter statement directed at himself.

Trying to shuffle to the edge of the huge bed was exhausting. Tears began to stream down your face, running over the flushing red skin. You were embarrassed, somehow feeling it through the intense pain.

"Can you stand?"

You could, albeit shaky and holding your arm close to your chest, terrified something would hit it.

Bucky pressed a hand to your lower back and ushered you gently from the suite.

In the elevator, he called to F.R.I.D.A.Y. "Tell me someone's up in med?"

"Dr Cho is in D.C. but has left Medical to Dr Reyes,"

"Okay. Tell her we're on our way," he asked.

"Already done,"

"Thanks, F.R.I.D.A.Y."

Bucky turned to you, watched you struggle to keep your eyes open. He frowned, then cupped your face in his hands. The vibranium was cool.

"You're gonna be okay, Y/N. I know it hurts, but trust me - I've seen worse."

He wasn't being dismissive, just trying to pull you from the pain for a second or two. It worked; you offered him a weak smile. Bucky leaned in and kissed the tip of your nose. You could smell toothpaste. He must have been in the middle of getting ready for the day when you woke up.

'Medical' was a whole floor. Research happened in the east wing, and the trauma centre existed in the west.

Dr Cecilia Reyes was ready, waiting for your arrival. "Barnes," she greeted. "You found her then,"

"Word travels fast, huh?"

"Oh, you know… Winter Soldier on a mission to find a girl. That kinda thing gets people talking," she replied with a smirk.

Bucky liked Cecilia. She was tough, raised in the Bronx. He liked that despite her power, she opted for a relatively normal life. She was good people.

"Well, welcome," she said to you, leading you to a private room. "I'm Dr Reyes. Heard you've banged up your hand pretty bad?"

"Yeah," you managed to squeak out.

"Scale of one to ten, how bad's the pain?"

Ten. Definitely. "Uh… Eight," you lied.

Cecilia snorted. "So at least a nine then? Don't need to be tough for me," she told you, smiling kindly. She nodded for Bucky to help you up onto the bed in the room.

"I was okay last night," you said to her.

"Probably still in a bit of shock. Had a rough couple of days. Body's smart. Guess it waited to tell you it needed help," she replied.

"Should've brought you here last night," Bucky said.

"Nah, Barnes. Sleep is the great healer. She's here now. Let's see what we've got."

An x-ray, backlit and brutal, showed a broken ring finger, broken thumb, and three breaks to your hand. Cecilia told you that all things considered, you were lucky; the breaks hadn't split skin, muscle, or tendon. She set a cast on your wrist, hand, and thumb, and stabilised your ring finger by splinting it to your pinky.

"If you want, we can just cut it off and you can get one of what he's got," she joked during the process.

"Hey! Too soon," Bucky said, feigning offence.

She rolled her eyes at him dramatically. "What, like 80 years or something?"

Bucky laughed, then smiled over at you. "It's all right, darlin'," he said, noticing your expression. "If I can't joke about it, what's it good for, you know?"

"In her case, it's good for some top tier pain meds. Here - take two as needed. No more than eight a day. With food is better. And for reference, a can of Pringles does not count as a meal,"

"That felt personal," Bucky said, eyes narrowing at Cecilia.

"Your diet is trash," she told him, matter of fact.

"Firstly, once you pop you can't stop. Even I know that. Secondly, how do you know about my diet, doll?"

"Doll me again, Barnes, and I'll-"

"What?" he interrupted. "Force field me to death?"

"Joke all ya want, but it can be done."

Bucky laughed again, fondly shaking his head at her. Cecilia held back a full grin.

"Force field?" you asked, sitting quietly, letting the fentanyl you'd been given before the x-ray seep into your body.

"I'll tell ya later," Bucky said, reaching out to fold stray hair behind your ear.

"Alright, need anything else? You're not-" Cecilia started.

"Nah, nah, I'm good. Thanks, Doc. We''ll get out cha' way."

They hugged like they meant it, and she left the room.

Bucky turned to you. "I'd decorate that thing for ya, but Steve's the artist," he said, nodding at your cast.

"S'okay," you whispered in reply.

"Fentanyl working then?"

Eyes closed, grinning, you nodded slowly. Bucky snorted.

"Good. Guess we'll get some food in you then,"

"Pringles?" you asked hopefully as Bucky held your hips, helping you slide off the bed.

"Whatever you want, darlin'."

People pretended not to watch you and Bucky leave the trauma centre. It's kinda what people did in Stark Tower - pretend not to see and know what they saw and knew.

"He's got a girlfriend" someone whispered.

"No, didn’t he, like, go full hero and save her or something?"

"Think we got more to worry about than who and what Bucky Barnes is doing," Cecilia said loudly to the room. She smiled though. Good for him, she thought to herself.

…

Before you really knew what was happening, Bucky was handing you an iPad.

"Sit. Ubereats us something," he said.

You were on the couch, back in Bucky's suite. Looking around, you felt that awe again - floor to ceiling windows with New York views will do that. There was a light, knitted blanket over you. It seemed out of place in the modern apartment setting.

For a good fifteen minutes since returning from the medical suite, you'd just been sitting there. Bucky had waited until you seemed more… coherent, to ask you to pick food.

"You know Ubereats?" you asked, smiling, proud of yourself.

Bucky snorted. "I know I'm old, but I'm not playing-bingo-with-senior-citizens old."

You laughed and for a second, forgot about everything.

"That being said," he added, "I did live through The Depression, and I do have a super soldier metabolism… So, you know, don't skimp on the food."

You wondered what his dinner of choice normally would be. Order history! It looked like Bucky was working his way through every takeout option in N.Y. Nothing repeated.

"Burrrrrrito?" you asked.

"Yeah, darl'. Whatever you want,"

"I waaaaant… freeeesh ava ca doo,"

"That the drugs talking?"

Mental note to self: show Bucky Barnes memes.

After the order was placed, you put the iPad on the coffee table in front of you. Bucky picked it up, shot you a grin, and disappeared for a while. You did consider following him - he felt like safety. But, you were slowly coming out of the fog of fentanyl and knew tagging along like a lost puppy probably would make you feel awkward more than anything.

Bucky's voice floated through… superhero stuff, you assumed. Busying yourself with finding the remote, then being startled by F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s offer of help ("Can I help you find something to watch?"), you managed to fill the time until Bucky returned without having to really think too much. There was a feeling sitting in the back of your mind and the bottom of your stomach that you wanted to keep ignoring for as long as possible. It seemed… bad. And you weren't ready for bad.

"Alright," Bucky said, coming to stand in front of you. "How we doing?"

You smiled, nodded. His expression shifted. Sceptical.

"Yeah? You sure?"

"Ah-huh," you confirmed.

"I'm just gonna run down and grab the food. Won't be a second."

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you with only the television to keep you company. You tried to pay attention, focus on the show. But the volume was too loud, even on the lowest setting. It was agitating, stressful even. Switching it off, you were enveloped in silence.

Calm down, you told yourself. And yet, a heartbeat was pounding in your ears. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You could hear your own organs now?!

Suddenly, you found yourself at the window, looking down at the city. How can everyone… You were thinking too fast, spiralling. But how could you think of anything else? How could everyone down there just keep going? D.C. was still burning. People had died.

People.

Your people.

Everything - your head, the room, your world - began to spin.

Where's… Where's… Where the hell was a phone?

"Y/N," F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s voice alarmed you, coming out of nowhere, but not enough to make you jump. "I'm detecting an elevated heart rate. Can I help you with anything?"

"I… ah… You're just a machine," you muttered to yourself mostly. "Wait! No! Where's the phone?! I need a phone… I need to call…"

Call who? Who would you call first? What would you do if…

You didn't hear F.R.I.D.A.Y. tell you where to find a phone, or ask again if you were okay. You didn't hear her tell you Bucky was on his way up. As soon as he walked in, he knew what was happening.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., tell me next time," he said while putting the takeout on the suite's small round dining table. "Y/N," he called. He stood in your field of vision, but not too close. "Y/N? Can you hear me?"

"I'm… I need a phone," you said, voice frantic, pupils blown. "There's people…"

"We can do that. Phone's right here," Bucky told you, pulling his cell from his pocket and holding it out to you. When you didn't take it, he slid it back in and held a hand out to you instead. "Y/N, take my hand. We're gonna sit down. Don't want you to fall and break any more bones,"

"How many days has it been?" you asked, your words pushed together, the letters overlapping.

"I'm gonna come closer, okay? Coming to you." Bucky moved. When he could see it wasn't making it worse, he held on your good wrist, his other hand on your waist, and walked you to the couch. You followed along, mindlessly compliant. "It's been five days. Not everyone will be on the lists yet, but we'll call, yeah? Or, we can get F.R.I.D.A.Y. to do it for us."

You were sort of nodding, but were still finding it hard to focus. Bucky waited another few moments, watching and assessing, before deciding he needed to intervene further.

He put his left hand on your face, cupping the cool metal to your skin. Gently but firmly, he turned you to face him.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" he asked, raising his right hand.

"What?"

He repeated the question.

"Three," you answered, dismissive and maybe even a little annoyed.

"Good. Now?"

"Five. What are you doing?"

"Now?"

"Two! What are you doing?!"

"Distracting you," Bucky said. "Making your mind work on a task that isn't just panicking,"

"I'm not panicking," you told him.

"Not now, 'cause it worked. You're still not breathing properly though,"

"I'm fine,"

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.?" Bucky called.

She spoke, "Your heart rate is still elevated, Y/N, and-"

"Okay, I get it," you stopped her.

"Just take a couple breaths with me. Don't need 'em to be deep. Just hold them for a couple seconds."

As he called it, you took a breath in, two, three, out, two, three. You managed to do it twice before shaking your head and wriggling in your spot.

"I'm not- I just-" and you were off again, rambling about people, phones, and things you needed to do.

You went to stand, but Bucky grabbed you around the middle, pulling you down. Your back was to him, pressed to his chest, while his arms were wrapped around you. He would have let go if you fought him or cried out. But, you were limp and quiet almost immediately.

As you clung to his arms, he rested his head on your shoulder and made soft hushing sounds. Bucky waited patiently until your breathing regulated. You had closed your eyes and let your entire weight rest on him.

"I know how you feel. You're exhausted. Makes everything feel… bigger. But I promise you, it's gonna be okay," he told you, voice calm. Calming.

"You can't promise that," you replied, voice weak.

"I reckon if anyone can - it's me. Had a lot of life experience. And, got a lot of resources. Superhero perks," he laughed, trying to lighten your mood. "You trust me?" he asked, to which you nodded. "Good. So, trust me. I've got you. And right now, we've got some burritos that need eatin', and you need to tell me what freesh ava ca doo is."

Hearing the words come out of his mouth was entirely ridiculous and you couldn't help but snort. It left a smile on your face.

"There she is! Come on. Up!”

Chapter 5.

Tag list (open): @animegirlgeeky @bubbabarnes @browngirlmagic @lookalivefrosty @aynaraxas @vibraniumwitch @the–sad–hatter @grecianlune @fairislesheets

#mine #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes/Reader #Bucky Barnes / Reader #bucky barnes/you #Bucky Barnes / You #Bucky Barnes / Y/N #Bucky Barnes/Y/N #Marvel fanfiction #So Far Away

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adarlingwrites · 4 years ago

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Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who's willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

January 4, 2278.

I followed Percy outside the Lamplight Caverns, trying to match the pace of her footsteps. Her shoulders are all tensed up again, and I just know a storm’s brewing in her head. I reached out to touch her shoulder.

“What is it?”

“Percy, how are we going to rescue those children from Paradise Falls?”

“Simple. We sneak in, free the slaves, and fuck the place up so no slaver can set foot in it again. Then we escort the kids back to Lamplight so we can proceed with retrieving the GECK.”

I shook my head. “Percy, that’s easier said than done. If we’re going to take down Paradise Falls, we need coordinated attacks. Inside information. Tactics. Rushing in would be foolish,” I tell her.

My friend gives me a sour look, but it melts into a pout. “You’re right. Shit, how are we going to pull this off?”

“May I suggest something?” I ask her. Her face lights up, lips curling into a smile.

“You know I appreciate all your suggestions,” Percy responds, bumping her arm against mine. The corner of my mouth twitches upward before I can stop myself.

“We need inside information. A layout of the place would be a good start. Then we figure out tactics. Our attack must be coordinated,” I tell her.

Percy pushes her glasses up, brows furrowing. “Yes. We’ll need to take care of logistics too. Ammunition. Medicine.”

Then she pauses, opens her mouth, and closes it again.

“Is there something you want to tell me?”

“Charon,” she starts, rubbing the back of her neck. “You said that slavers used to hold your contract years ago, yes?”

My throat tightens, but I nod.

“Then, do you happen to remember details about the place?”

I blink at Percy a few times, the holes in my memory screwing things up again. I couldn’t say anything.

“It’s okay big guy, don’t force yourself. Just tell me when you remember something,” my friend responds.

We continue walking.

The sun is high up in the sky, but it isn’t warm. Flakes of snow land on me and turn into water droplets. The days are getting colder, and though the radiation in my body and the lack of nerves on the parts of myself that didn’t have skin made me more resistant to it, I can still feel it in my bones.

We pause at the side of the road. Thankfully, the cold meant creatures stayed in their burrows, and raiders kept mostly to their camps, near the fires. Percy takes out the scarf she got from Tulip’s shop and wraps it around her neck. It must’ve been musty; she wrinkled her nose when she took her first inhale. I snorted softly at her reaction. Then, she reaches into her pack again and tosses me a hat.

“I thought you might like it,” she tells me as I look at the hat in my hands. “It’s an ushanka. You don’t have much hair to keep your head warm, and this hat has flaps on the side. I think you’ll like it.”

Something stirs in my chest. It wasn’t unpleasant… but it made me long for a life I lost centuries ago.

“My father used to wear one.”

Percy’s eyes lit up. “Oh. What was he like?”

“Tall. Strong. His hair was red,” I told her as I put the hat on.

It’s as cozy as I imagined. I felt like a child again.

When I tried my father’s hat on, it was too big for me. He said that one day I’ll be big like him and grow into it.

That day never came.

“Like you.”

I didn’t respond. I just bumped my arm against hers.

“I’ve read in a book in Arlington that those things came from a place called Russia. Have you ever been there, Charon?”

“No. But my parents came from that place.”

“Oh. Do you still remember the language? Or the culture?”

I hummed. “Barely. We used to speak it at home… but that was a very long time ago. There was a lullaby my mother used to sing to me, but I cannot remember all the words.”

“Was that the song you hummed to me, when I was grieving my dad?”

“Yes.”

Percy sighs and stretches her hands over her head, and they land on her sides with a muffled thud. “It’s a beautiful melody. So many things lost to war…”

I kept quiet, looking away. There are horrid things about wars I didn’t want to remember.

“Sorry for the rambling. I was thinking about dad.”

“Nothing to apologize for.”

Percy flashes me a smile. “Remember the day we got Dad out of Vault 112? He immediately ran off to get back to Rivet City and we had to tail him without stopping. He even took out a Super Mutant with a rebar club he picked up… Jesus .”

I remember that. James was pretty tough, for a doctor. Like Percy. Now I know where she gets it from.

“I guess I am my father’s daughter. I was so ready to dive into things. Like that book I wrote with Moira…”

“...that made you sick for days,” I interrupt, and she laughs.

“Yeah. Admittedly, that was pretty impulsive and stupid of me. And now I almost rushed into storming Paradise Falls. Dad used to be my impulse control when we were in the vault. I was just thinking, what would Dad say if he were still here? I used to live off of his advice...”

Without thinking, I put my arm around Percy’s shoulder, her small frame bumping into my side, and she lets out a soft grunt. Then, she laughs, and wraps her arm around my waist.

“I’ll make sure you won’t run off to do anything rash.”

“I’m glad you’re around, Charon.”

I didn’t respond. I just smiled. I hope she didn’t see it.

As we continued our trek back to Megaton, Percy said something that made me remember a detail about Paradise Falls.

“Dad probably would tell me to stock up on medical supplies. Remind me to go to Doc Church’s clinic when we get back. We might need Med-X. Lot’s of it.”

Doc Church.

Paradise Falls.

Wait a damn minute.

September 28, 2277.

I guess I’m a fucking babysitter now.

This girl that I’m supposed to protect and keep out of harm’s way just couldn’t stop getting herself in trouble now, couldn’t she?

I’d understand if it were due to raiders or wasteland creatures. But no, she just had to get herself sick from drinking that fucking atomic bomb water, and as if the radiation wasn’t enough, she had to contract a disease from it too. Stupid.

If it wasn’t for the contract, I would’ve let her sorry ass suffer the consequences of her foolishness. For someone who’s so smart, couldn’t she just explain the effects of radiation to that egghead who asked her to irradiate herself “for science”? It also doesn’t fucking help that she jumped off the railings to cripple her legs for that “scientist” too. It was a miracle that she didn’t receive any permanent injuries from that.

God fucking dammit. What she’s doing is borderline suicidal.

Her illness delayed our plans, as well. We were supposed to be in Rivet City by now. Instead, she’s feverish and looking miserable on the couch, the dog whining as she groaned and grumbled. Dogmeat licks her face, and she buries it in the dog’s fur.

Days ago, I noticed how small she really was, and now she looks even smaller, legs pressed against her chest, curled under a tattered blanket.

A pang of guilt twists in me for even thinking of abandoning her. She’s my employer, and she has been good to me so far. I shouldn’t think of such a thing.

But she’s making it difficult for me to do my damn job.

Sluggish, she stands up, and reaches for her jacket, the one with the snake embroidery on the back. Percy shuffles to the door, and I follow her.

“Miss, you are in no condition to be up.”

“I just need to get more antibiotics from the clinic, if the doc has any left,” she croaks. Her voice is hoarse from all the vomiting she did from her hangover and her illness.

I’d pity her, if she didn’t inflict it on herself.

“As you wish,” I replied.

We left the dog at home, who took the warm spot where she used to lie. I had to help her through the downward path from her house to the town clinic, making sure that she doesn’t stumble and fall, her arm around my waist. I look down and see the top of her head, her black hair tousled.

I had an urge to smooth it out with my hands, but of course I didn’t act on it.

I went inside the clinic first, opening the door for my mistress. The doctor didn’t glance up from his clipboard.

“Unless you’re dying, I don’t want to hear anything about-”

When he looked up, it took one look at me for him to stop his bitching, eyes wide.

I narrowed my eyes.

I swear I’ve seen his face before, but I can’t put my finger on it.

“Doc,” Percy croaks, voice cracking. “Do you still have antibiotics? Need a refill.”

The doctor clears his throat.

“That’s what you get for drinking the water from the crater with those Church of Atom folks,” he grumbles, standing up from his seat and heading inside his office. He comes back with a bottle of pills, which he gives to Percy.

As Percy was counting her caps, I can see the sweat on the doctor’s forehead as he watched me.

“Does he need anything too?”

“Oh, no. He’s my bodyguard,” Percy replies. “Charon, meet Doc Church.”

As soon as Percy hands him the caps, he hurriedly shows us the door.

Now I remember why he was so nervous.

“Wait. Church used to offer his medical services for the slavers,” I blurt out, and Percy whirls around.

“Are you sure? You didn’t seem to recognize him the first time you met him in Megaton.”

“Might be the age. If there’s any way I can prove it to you, I am unsure, though.”

Percy furrows her brow. “Let’s hurry back to Megaton. I have an idea.”

When we arrived in Megaton, it was already dark. The shops are closed, and Church’s clinic is closed as well. After dumping our equipment in the house, I followed Percy to Gob’s Saloon. Her footsteps are heavier than usual from her haste.

We got in, and there were a few patrons lounging about, but it was quiet. Gob’s face lights up at the sight of my friend.

“Percy! Good to see you,” he greets, and Percy nods at him.

“Hey. Gob, we need to talk,” Percy tells him. “In private. It’s important.”

With apprehension, Gob leads us to a room behind the bar, and Nova takes over for a moment. It’s a narrow room with a terminal adjacent to a back door, something that’s rare in Megaton. The other structures have single entry and exit points.

“Are Moriarty’s files still there?” Percy asks him.

“I haven’t touched the thing at all, smoothskin. I thought of letting Moira tinker with it so I can use it to keep track of tabs, but the thing just reminds me of Moriarty.”

Percy sighs in relief. “Well, thank whatever the fuck’s out there that they’re still here. Do you have his password?”

“I already threw the paper away. Sorry, Percy.”

Rolling her sleeves, Percy powers on the terminal and begins typing away. “It’s fine.”

Gob looks over Percy’s shoulder, eyes flicking to the text on the screen. “What do you need the files for, anyway?”

“Moriarty’s got dirt on almost everyone here and the prick was more than willing to rub it in my face. I’m trying to get information on someone,” my friend replies, flicking a stray lock of her hair away from her face. “Aha, there we are.”

Her face is inscrutable.

“Charon, you’re right,” she tells me, her eyes still on the screen.

“Can you please slow down and tell me what’s going on?” Gob asks, scratching the little skin he had left on his cheek. “This is all so sudden, Percy. Sorry.”

My friend and I look at each other. We know the other ghoul was trustworthy. There was a silent agreement between us.

“Promise to keep quiet about this? It could put all of us in danger.”

Gob nods enthusiastically.

“We’re going to take down Paradise Falls,” she says, and Gob’s eyes widens.

“Whoa, Percy, I know the two of you are badasses, but how are you gonna do that?”

“That’s what we’re figuring out. First, we gotta know the place inside and out, so we’ll know where to come and go,” Percy responds.

“That’s… actually pretty smart, wow.”

“It’s Charon’s idea,” she adds, nudging my arm with her elbow. I can feel my lips curling into a smile again, but this time I fought the urge.

“We’ll also need a rendezvous point while planning this operation out,” I add, and both of them turn to me. “This room is secure, and the back entry makes it ideal for whoever is involved in the operation to come and go in the cover of night. I suggest we meet here for a week, if Gob will allow it.”

Grinning, Percy turns to Gob. “Good idea. What do you say, Gob?”

Gob seemed to hesitate, but he smiled at us. “Y’know, I used to hope I can fight the Good Fight instead of being stuck here. Maybe I can’t go out there and be badass slaver hunters like you guys, but I’d do what I can to help. Sure.”

Percy pulls the other ghoul in an embrace. “Thank you!”

“Hey, it’s nothing smoothskin,” Gob replies, leaning into the embrace.

He probably needed that, but still I can’t help but look away.

“Is a week really all you’ll need, though?”

“I’ve been in operations with less resources and less time to coordinate,” I tell him.

“Anyway, Charon said Doc Church used to patch up slavers. What I saw in Moriarty’s terminal confirms it,” Percy explains.

“What are you gonna do to the doc?” Gob asks, tone wary.

“We’re not gonna hurt him. Whatever he was then, he’s overworked helping Megaton now. Sounds like a man who’s trying to atone. We’re going to use that as leverage to get him to help us.”

Gob rubs his arm. “Be careful, the two of you. Oh man, those slavers probably have connections everywhere. They could get you guys killed.”

A dark glint in her eye, Percy gives Gob a smirk. It was unnerving and fascinating at the same time. I’m certain that this woman is still the same kind and gentle girl I met months ago, but something changed.

“I’d like to see them try.”

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