#i did this to kill time while waiting to take my painkiller dose. and now it is time smile

[pine-arten]

funny guy

[yuulina-vre]

Gifting you a new life

Awkward

Pairing: Steve x Bucky, Reader insert

Warnings: none

word count: 3642 words

Part: twelve

Summary: Y/N’s now staying at Bucky’s.

Masterlist

* * * 

Y/N sits in the back of the ambulance as it rolls to the emergency ramp. Wanda talks to her about a lot of things to distract her without saying that she wants to distract her. And it works. She feels calmer than before, though she would rather have Steve by her side. The car stops and shortly after the backdoor gets opened, Sam appearing. “So, beautiful. Getting rolled in like a princess or walking like one?” Wanda snorts a laugh and Y/N shakes her head with slight amusement. She’s surprised that she can smile right now. The pain’s still pretty bad when she moves her hand or fingers. “Walking.”

“Alright, girl. Come on then.” I called ahead. Dr. Banner will see you in a few minutes. We just have to get the necessary paperwork done.” She only nods and lets Sam guide her to the waiting room and sits down on a free chair. While Wanda checks her in, he gets the paperwork and fills it out for her. Each time the doors to the Er get opened she looks up to see if Steve’s coming, though there’s no luck until now. After five minutes a man with curly hair and glasses walks up to her and Sam. “Miss Y/L/N?”

“Yes?”

“My name’s Dr. Bruce Banner. I’m your doctor for today. Would you follow me, please?” She nods but glances at Sam. “Has Steve- Can you-”

“Don’t worry. I’ll call him and let him know where you are.” She nods again and follows her doctor through the hall until she gets guided into a room. “Have a seat, please.” He gestures at the stretcher on the wall and rolls a chair over. Then he prepares a tray with all sorts of things before he sits down in front of her. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“I- I got a package with a bowl of acid in it and it l-leaked over my hands.”

“How much of it got on them.”

“N-not much, I think. I dropped it quickly.”

“Did you wash your hand under water afterward?”

“Yes.”

“Alright.” The man nods, getting a pair of gloves on and hold his hands out. “I’m going to unwrap your hands now to look at them, to see how bad it is. Afterward, I’m cleaning them off and do what’s necessary. We’ll see if you have to stay. It depends on how bad the burns are. Do you live alone?” He starts unwrapping her hands and Y/N is so distracted that she doesn’t even notice it at first. “No, my best friend Steve lives with me.”

“That’s good. You’ll probably need some help for a few weeks.” Dr. Banner finishes unwrapping her hands and looks them over, turning them to see the other side as well. In a matter of twenty minutes her hands are wrapped again, she has a description for some cream she should use and more bandages with the instruction to switch them every few hours for the next few days. He even measures her blood pressure. He states that it’s way too high and that Y/N looks still too tense so he offers her some painkillers and give’s her something to help calm her for a while. Then he admits her to a single bedroom. She doesn’t need to wait long. Just a few minutes after Dr. Banner leaves her Steve shows up. He looks a little frantic but relaxes as soon as he sees her propped up on the bad. “Hey.”

“Hi.” She yawns sleepily, stretching her hands out for him. She feels drowsy and tired, thanks because of the meds and the adrenaline that leaves her body now. Steve walks over to her, embracing her in his arms and kissing her head. “Ready to get out?”

“Home?” She closes her eyes sleepily, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Almost, yeah. We’re going to Bucky’s.” She only hums before she feels herself drift a little.

Steve carries her all the way to his car. She hears him talking about moving to Bucky because Brock doesn’t know where he lives but she only catches half of it. Shortly after Steve starts driving off, she falls asleep, forehead pressed firmly onto the cool glass of the window. Her dreams are vivid, brutal but sweet, too. One moment Bock almost kills her while choking her and then she’s suddenly standing in her living room, still gasping for air but wrapped up in Steve’s arms with Bucky beside him, contently watching a movie. Only to be thrown back to Brock again.

The next thing she notices is that Steve lifts her again. She feels sluggish and tired, only able to wrap her arms around his neck and snuggling deeper into him. “’eve? Home?”

“Yeah, doll. We’re at Bucky’s, remember?” She hums and closes her eyes again. “Hey. I prepared the guest room on the right for her. It’s directly opposite yours and mine is next to yours.” Y/N opens her eyes again only to be met with a half worried and half-smiling Bucky. He looks at her with concern in his eyes while he guides Steve through the halls with a hand on his lower back. She smiles a small smile back and lets Steve carry her all the way upstairs and into a room. Her eyes have closed again but they fly open as she hears Bucky scolding someone. “Maggie! Get down. Y/N is supposed to lie there.” Y/N looks around and spots Bucky standing at a bed, glaring at a white cat that ignores him completely. Her green eyes are trained on Y/N, though. “That’s Maggie?” Bucky looks up, surprise on his face. “Yeah. The little rat. Always where she’s not supposed to be.” Bucky sighs and picks the cat up. The fluff ball protests with a loud meow and some struggling but Bucky’s grip is tight. Steve sets Y/N down with a small laugh. Instead of getting settled, scooting back to sit comfortably, she stretches her bandaged hands out for the cat. “Give me.” Bucky raises his eyebrows, wearing the same amused smile that Steve has on his face. “You sure, with those hands?”

“Yeah, give me, please.” She pouts a little so both boys laugh. The brunette lets the cat jump from his arms onto the bed and she walks proudly over to Y/N, not even glancing back at him. Maggie starts sniffing carefully on Y/N’s pants and on the bandaged hand she stretches out. Y/N squeals lightly as she butts her head against the wrist before climbing up on her lap. “Oh, I think they’re best buddies now, Steve. We’re no longer needed.” Bucky sighs dramatically making Steve laugh and Y/N giggle a little. Steve looks fondly at her and Y/N raises her eyes to meet his. “What?”

“Nothing. It’s nice to see you laugh.” She smiles lightly at him. “Sap.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll be downstairs.” He raises his hand with another laugh but before he can follow Bucky outside Y/N stops him. “Steve?”

“Yeah?” He turns around and looks expectant at her as if Y/N would demand he stay and help her fall asleep. “Make sure you don’t let him go.”

“W-what?” Y/N sees him blush in a deep red and smiles at him. “You know what I mean.” Steve’s small smile shows that he knows exactly what she means. He nods shortly and leaves the room, letting the door just a slit opened. She smiles still at the door but then looks at her lap as the white feline climbs on her and starts rumbling in her chest. With all her care and energy that she has left, she shuffles back until her back hist the headboard, then she strokes with her hand carefully through the white fur. She doesn’t apply much pressure; afraid it will hurt her hand or the cat but she feels the fact immediately. She gets calmer the longer she has the can on her lap. The door opens after a silent knock and the brunette quickly peeks back inside the room. “Y/N, I saved your pizza and put it in my oven. If you’re hungry you can come down, yeah? Should be ready in ten.”

“Thank you, but I’m not that hungry anymore.”

“Alright. I still save you some if that big blonde goof didn’t eat everything by the time I get down.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him.” Y/N chuckles at him but is quickly distracted as Magnolia supports herself on her shoulders and butts her head against her chin. She misses Bucky’s smile and the snapping of his camera.

 * * *

 That night, Y/N turns in bed several times. She’s tired, but each time she closes her eyes, she has pictures of Brock in her mind, of the things he did and the things he could do. Maggie lies next to her on the bed, fast asleep, tightly cuddled against her shoulder. She had purred for a while, obviously trying to calm Y/N down, until she fell asleep herself. Y/N sighs and carefully slips out of bed. Her hands burn and throb badly and she remembers that she could take another dose of painkillers. As silently as she can she leaves the room only to looks up and down the hall. Her eyes lock on the door across hers, trying to remember which room belongs to who. She thinks Bucky said something about Steve being right across her so she steps up to the door that’s slightly ajar. For a moment she debates if she should wake him and ask if he would watch a movie with her. That usually helps her fall asleep pretty fast and if not, she always tires herself out while painting. Though, that won’t be a possibility for a while. At least as long as she’s not willing to learn drawing with her nose or feet which she really isn’t interested in.

She stares a little longer at the wood until her tiredness wins and she opens the door silently with one foot. “Steve?” The room is dark and no noises are heard except for soft breathing and the occasional snore. “Steve?” She whispers a little louder, tip-toeing over to the bed, and is surprised to not only find Steve there but Bucky, too. She had stayed in her bed, napped a little. She hasn’t heard them get up the stairs nor them slipping together into Steve’s room. Well, Y/N isn’t blind though, and has seen how well they get along, so instead of being concerned that they already started sharing a bed, she decides to be proud of Steve. He usually is a little awkward and old-fashioned about this kind of thing, so it’s an immensely big step for him as well. She blushes a little, feeling like she’s intruding and seeing something she shouldn’t see. They’re dressed, thankfully, which means this isn’t more awkward than it could have been. She’s just about to leave as she hears Steve groan. “Y/N?” His voice is slurred, obviously tired and sleepy. “Sorry. I’ll go again.”

“Nah, was’sup?” She watches as he sits up a bit, letting Bucky’s normal arm slip from his chest. The brunette huffs in his sleep and turns a little. Y/N can see that he’s not wearing his prosthetic. Thankfully. If it hurt on the day what must it feel like at night and sleeping on it? “Y/N?” Her eyes snap back to Steve and she shuffles on her feet. “I can’t sleep.” Steve raises his eyebrows at her, not really looking surprised. “Wanted to ask if you’re watching a movie with me, but… you have a guest, so I just-” She points back at the door ready to leave, but Steve stands up, walks around the bed, and crosses the one foot over to her to wrap her in a hug, pressing her to his chest. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I know it’s a lot right now.”

“Not as worse with him as it was before.” She chuckles dryly. She knows she’s right, though. Burns aren’t the worst that Brock can do, and she knows it pretty well. They stay like this for a moment, reluctant on what to do. She buries her face in his chest and sighs deeply. Another hand startles them. The hand grabs Y/N’s arms and she’s about to scream, but then she notices that Bucky had gotten out of bed. He pulls her with him on the bed, lies back down, and pulls her into him with a yawn. “Ehh…” Y/N looks startled and confused at Bucky, whose eyes are closed already. Then her eyes switch to Steve who just stands there and looks surprised. “Punk, you’re staying there?” Y/N looks a little uncomfortable to Steve, haven’t thought Bucky would do something like that. He knows her even less than he knows Steve! But then again, she doesn’t know him that well either and still invited him over and plays matchmaker for both of them. Steve only raises his eyebrows before he snorts. “Jerk.” He crawls back in bed and warps Y/N in his own arms, pulling her close to him like they do, when one of them is in a bad mood. She snuggles a little closer into his embrace and closes her eyes. Sleep comes sooner than she has expected it to come and it’s calm.

* * *

 Monday morning is a slow-going one. Bucky stays home with Y/N, Having off anyway. Steve has gone to work like usual, promising to tell Tony that she won’t be at work for the rest of the week and telling her, that he will be home around lunch, skipping his last class, since they are still working on their art projects and it’s not like the kids won’t be happy about it. As long as they finish their projects until Friday it doesn’t bother him as well. He should be home any minute now.

Y/N sits on the couch, flipping through a book with her fingertips as best as she can, while Bucky plays with Maggie on the carpet. He was supposed to do housework but Y/N isn’t the one to tell him that. Then the doorbell rings. “Could you?” Bucky sits on the floor while Maggie crawls all over him, so Y/N nods and stands up. The doorbell rings violently. Instantly, she knows who it is, even before she opens the door. Tony is pressing the button violently, while another man stands behind him, looking pretty embarrassed. Y/N stares for seconds before she catches herself. “What are you doing here?”

“What does Rogers mean, you can’t come to work because that asshole burnt your hands?” Y/N looks down at her wrapped hands before she really notices the other man behind Tony. “Dr. Banner?”

“Hi.” Dr. Banner waves shyly at her and Tony only raises his eyebrows. “Why do you know each other?”

“He’s the doctor that looked at my hands.” Y/N looks still confused at the doctor, but Tony turns around to him. “Why haven’t you told me? I worried for nothing!”

“You wouldn’t let me finish.” Tony rolls his eyes and turns back to Y/N. “So, are we gonna have a chat at the door or will you let me in? And where’s your Robo-friend? I want to look at that arm.”

“Tony!”

“Where’s who?” Just then does Bucky comes around the corner and steps up next to Y/N, looking at the new guests With Maggie on his arm. “Oh. I know that one. Isn’t he your boss?” Bucky raises his eyebrows and looks at Tony, who only crosses his arms. “Yeah, he is. Also, a friend.” She glances back at him before she looks at Bucky. “And a little worried about me. Hey Bucky, can I talk to you for a sec?” Y/N doesn’t wait for an answer and starts dragging the man to the kitchen, careful of her hands that start throbbing again. She doesn’t tell Tony or Bruce to come in, knowing Tony does it anyway. “What’s wrong?” Bucky stops walking in the kitchen and Y/N turns to him, glancing nervously at the door and back to Bucky. “Well, you know. Tony isn’t always the nicest. I mean… eh... He doesn’t mean to be bad, but sometimes insults just… slip.” She cringes a little at her sorry excuses of explanation. “Aha.” Bucky frowns at her, looking like he doesn’t understand her concern and Y/N clears her throat. “So, he knows you have-”

“Y/N, I don’t care if he insults my arm. I’m used to it by now.” Y/N sighs and looks at his arm. Bucky really shouldn’t be used to it. He’s such a nice person and knowing that he gets lots of comments about his missing limb makes Y/N sad. “Okay. There’s something else, though.”

“What is it?”

“Okay, so, you know Tony works at the school and is the headmaster, right?” She waits for Bucky to nod before she continues. “Well, he’s not only the headmaster and a teacher but an engineer. He built some things for the army before he dropped that and invented stuff like mobiles, tablets, things for clean energy… for people.”

“I don’t understand what that has to do with me.” Y/N looks at him, a bit lost, debating how to tell him that Tony wants to see his arm. She still doesn’t know if it’s a difficult topic for him to get touched by strangers. “He wants to look at your arm.” She blurts it out and curses herself afterward. “Oh.” Bucky suddenly looks pretty unsure. He looks down at his hand with a frown before he looks back at Y/N. “You don’t need to let him. You can just tell him you don’t want to, but he knows what he does. Sometimes, though, he’s a bit harsh with words and feelings.”

“No, I- I think it’s okay.” Bucky shrugs and Y/N can see that he tries to play it cool but really isn’t. “Maybe he might help with your shoulder. He could figure out why it so uncomfortable.” Bucky only nods. “Yeah…” For a moment she worries that she did something wrong but then Bucky sighs and gestures her to start walking. “Let’s meet him.” Tony has already made himself comfortable while Dr. Banner throws an apologizing look at them. Y/N smiles kindly at him, settling down beside Tony. Bucky gestures for the Doctor to have a seat. They chat for a while about the school, the renovations Tony’s doing on his house, again, and about a lot of normal stuff. Bruce, how she learned to call him now, wraps her hands again and says that it looks better than the day before, but she still has to apply the salve and wrap it up for a few more days. Magnolia seems to find the new guests as a disturbance but settles on Y/N’s lap and lets her stroke her fur in pleasure. She still throws glares at the two brunettes, though. At some point, Y/N looks up at Bucky and finds him staring at her with a pout. “What?”

“It’s not fair, you know?”

“What do you mean?” She watches him confused. His eyes wander to Maggie and Y/N’s hand and back up. “She already loves you more than me. That’s not fair. I’m feeding her.” Y/N instantly barks out a laugh. “Are you jealous?”

“Yes.” Y/N laughs even louder now and just throws a pitying look at him. “I’m sorry. Can’t help it, though.”

“Maybe I can help with that.” Y/N looks up to see Steve entering the Livingroom, crooked smile and work bag slung over his shoulder. He walks up to Bucky, who turns around and puts his hands on the other man’s shoulder, lightly massaging him with a soft smile. “Look at that, Rogers finally found himself a girlfriend.”

“Tony!” Y/N scolds him the same moment Bruce does. At least he has the decency to look ashamed and shatters that the next second. “A boyfriend, sorry.” Y/N rolls her eyes and catches Steve blushing furiously while Bucky just looks equal confused, embarrassed, and… happy? Steve rubs his neck, casts a small look at Tony, and vanishes quickly. Y/N glances at Bucky. “I’m sorry, I told you he’s not good with feelings and all.” Bucky just shrugs.

„So, Robo-cop. Show me this arm.”

“Tony! Sensitive topic, remember?” Y/N glares at him but Tony doesn’t care. He only mutters a silent please and stands up to walk closer to bucky. The brunette looks a little uncomfortable at the engineer. “Buck, you don’t have to.”

“Pah, nonsense. I’m just wanting to look at it. Any trouble with it so far?” He steps closer to Bucky inspecting his arm first without touching, then he crouches down and holds out his hand. Despite what most people believe, Tony knows damn well that not everybody likes to get toughed, especially when it’s about the prosthetic so he offers Bucky the chance to choose when and if he likes to get touched. Bucky hesitates for a second but then puts his hand in Tony’s. “It hurts my shoulder. Doesn’t fit right and it’s pretty heavy. Sometimes the responses are delayed and instead of grabbing something I knock it over.”

“Hm. I see.” Tony runs his fingers over the prosthetic from the fingers up to the elbow. “Can I?” he motions for Bucky’s t-shirt and bucky nods. Y/N watches in amazement how Tony runs his hand along the arm, shoving the sleeve up as well, and then… suddenly barks out a laugh. “hammer tech!” He stands up, still laughing, and it's down beside Y/N again. She has to admit that she can’t suppress her own smirk. “What’s so funny?” Poor Bucky looks utterly confused and Steve matches his look as he joins him on his couch. “hammer tech is bad. I can build you a better one.”

Previous Part / Next Part

[mango7889]

The sun was setting on Canterlot, concluding another day at the castle medical office for Nurse redheart. That being said, medical is never to be unstaffed. Redheart had just finished packing up her days supplies and cleaning her work station.she then headed over to check on Aurora, seeing as she would be leaving the clinic in her hooves, and she was still finishing her training.

Aurora was getting her station organized when she heard Redheart start to talk from almost directly behind her.The loud voice made her jump. “I hope you’re ready to take over for the night Aurora. I’ve been training you for the past 8 months, so you should be more than ready. I don’t expect much to be going on, but be prepared for things like guards with sprains or scraps or any other minor injury that Glacial insists on rushing them in here with.”

After quickly composing herself, Aurora spent most of that nodding diligently, adding “yes ma’ams” here and there. She was taking it all in expecting her to go into another one of her rants But she stopped short and simply gave her the keys for medical. Aurora stood up straighter. “I won’t let you down ms.Redheart. When you get here in the morning it’ll be just how you left it, I promise!”

Nurse Redheart squinted her eyes. “Riiight, I’ll be holding you to that you know. I hope you still remember what happened last time you left a mess for me in the morning.” Aurora visibly shivered at the thought.

As Aurora shook her head she noticed Nurse Redheart was already heading for the door. “Good night ms. Redheart! I’ll see you in the morning.” Redheart waved to her as she left the office. With the office now in her hooves and having nothing else to do, Aurora sat back in her chair and pulled out her book, and started reading.

Night passed as uneventfully as Aurora thought it would. She was enjoying it though, sitting back reading while casually taking bites of the cake her sister Eclair made for her shift.

Nice and calm.

The door to medical slammed open as two guards barged in with somepony on a stretcher, bandages wrapped around their face. From the pained moans he was making it sounded pretty bad. Aurora’s eyes shot wide as she jumped out of her skin for the second time tonight. She quickly ran over to her station and waved them over. The guards set the wounded bat on the table. “He’s hurt pretty bad doc. I wasn’t allowed to know what had happened on orders from director Brass Tax. All I know is it’s pretty bad damage to his eye. We were told to leave him with medical and report back.”

Aurora’s mind was going a mile a minute as she tried to process what she was being told. The guards started to walk towards the door when Aurora came back to reality. “W-wait you’re just leaving him with me!?” all she got was a yes ma’am before the door closed behind them. ���Oh dammit why tonight while Redheart is out? Oh we’ll just leave you this seriously wounded guy with no explanation of what caused it! It’s fine you’ll figure it out’.”

As Aurora was pacing in circles panicking, the bat pony spoke up. “Miss I don’t suppose you have any painkillers. Not to rush you or anything but this does hurt pretty bad.”

His comment snapped Aurora out of her panic. “I’m so sorry! I’ll get started right away!” Grabbing a nearby by bottle of painkillers, she shook out two pills and grabbed a little paper cup and filled it with water.

Aurora gave him the medication and pulled over her tray of tools and supplies. “ That should help ease the pain while I get started working on your injury.” He took the meds as Aurora cutaway the bandages to see the injury for herself. Getting through the layers of bandage she started to see the part where blood was soaking through. Most of it was around his left eye area, primarily on the eye itself. Once the last of the bandage was carefully removed she was able to take stock of the damage. It was bad. He had a deep gash in an upwards direction that started just beneath his eye and crossed over the eye itself, ending just above the eye. He also had a cut on his cheek that would probably scar but it was the least of her worries. Without even needing to take a closer look she knew his eye would never work again. The cut was incredibly deep, and she could make out parts of the eye that had been completely destroyed.

The work she had to do could not be done while he was awake, that was for sure. “Sir I’m going to need to put you under for this. It’s going to be a while and I can’t have you moving an inch.”

He nodded as best he could. “Got it. The names Nox by the way, and I’m assuming it’s pretty bad?”

As stoic as he was trying to act, Aurora could tell he was feeling nervous and worried. She grabbed the small mask that was hooked up to a canister and placed it over his muzzle. “Don’t worry Nox, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Now just try to relax and let the anesthetic do its job.”

Nox tried to say something along the lines of ‘I trust you’ll do fine, what Aurora actually heard was “Ib truffulduu fiii” before he passed out completely. With Nox fully sedated now she was able to start her work on repairing all the damage to his eye. As her work continued she found that, while the eye was a lost cause, the damage didn’t go any deeper than the eye. The socket was fairly intact with only some light superficial damage. The cut above and below the eye would scar for sure but it would also heal up rather quickly. The cheek cut was a little deep but didn’t pierce it so the mouth was safe. Once the area was clear she stitched up his cheek as for his eye, she had to sterilize it since it was just one big open wound. Once the eye was sterilized and sealed, Aurora put a large patch bandage over it with some antibiotics to keep the area free from infections.

Her work was done at this point, nothing left to do but watch over him and change out his bandage when needed. She only wished she knew him other than just his name. Aurora would usually try and contact friends and family at this point but Aurora figured she’d just have to ask him when he came too.

A little over 2 hours had passed when Nox finally woke up again. Aurora heard the sharp inhale come from him as the painkiller was wearing off. Aurora quickly hopped over to Nox to check on him as she reached him she also got another dose of painkillers and some water in case he needed it.

Nox rolled over to lay down on his stomach rather than on his back. He reached up to rub his eye reflexively when Aurora quickly swatted his hoof away. He looked at her as she blushed and rubbed the back of her neck. “Heh, s-sorry about that, just habit. Um…please don’t rub your eye, I don’t want the stitching to come free. Oh and don’t move your face muscles too much. And don’t lay on your face… Just try not to do much with your face at all really.”

Nox laughs a bit before giving her a much more somber look. “I wanna know though, how bad was it. You mentioning that it’s stitched probably means I won’t be seeing out of this eye again right?”

Aurora sighed. “The eye was completely gone. No matter what I could have tried it was never going to heal. Luckily the wound wasn’t as bad as it could have been.”

She paused for a moment before asking the question that’s been eating away at her for the whole process. “I have to ask…What exactly happened? I mean it’s not every day sompony comes in here with a real injury and your’s was really bad.”

Nox giving his neck a rub tried to look anywhere that wasn’t Aurora. “Honestly I can’t actually say. That information is kinda lock and key if you know what i mean. The best I can give you is that I was asking the wrong questions in the right places and not covering my tracks very well.”

Aurora’s eyes lit up a bit. “Oooo, that sounds so cloak and dagger! Are you a spy or…a… Right can’t tell me. Regardless try and be more careful, Nox. If whoever did this was able to do the damage they did they probably could have killed you.”

Despite the pain in his eye Nox tried to ease Aurora’s worry. He gave her his honest attempt at a genuine smile. “It’s not as bad as it looks”

Aurora was trying to prep his replacement bandage she looked over at him with a knowing and worried look. “I’m not sure you’re a good judge of that right now.” She finished readying the bandage and slowly removed his current one. She was happy to see that her work was holding and there was no sign of additional bleeding or infection. With his bandage replaced she figured now was time to ask about friends and family to contact.

Aurora put away the supplies she was using and grabbed a quill with paper. “So Nox, I need to fill out who to contact, friends, family, that sort of thing.”

Nox smiled but Aurora could feel his slight dis-interest in the subject. “Well most of my friends probably already know, or will know pretty soon. As for family, I have a sister named lavender. She’s probably at home so you can send a runner to my address. Don’t bother filling out the space for parents, Mom’s dead and I have no interest in seeing my waste of space father again.”

Aurora felt a little bad from the sting on the way he said ‘father’. “Got it. I’ll send for your sister right away. For now please just try and get some rest.

Things had finally calmed down again. Aurora was now sitting back next to Nox reading her book while he got some much needed rest. Two chapters into her book and Nox sound asleep at this point, things were good.

The door to medical slammed open once again. Aurora jumping out of her chair in a panic and only managing to end up sprawling on the floor. Nox meanwhile jumped to his hooves in a defensive stance. When Aurora looked up she saw a young, wide-eyed, lavender coloured mare standing in the door looking frantic. When she spotted Nox, she let out a gasp before sprinting over and taking him in a seemingly bone crushing hug.

The lavender mare let go of Nox but still kept him in her hooves. “Sweet stars! Are you alright!? What happened!? Who did this!? Are you going to be able to see again!? How long have you been here!? Do..”

Before she could go on Nox gently put his hoof over her muzzle. “Calm down, Lavender. It’s alright! I’m fine thanks to Aurora over there.” Aurora still reeling at the situation, just raised a hoof and waved.

Nox gave a calm smile and continued. “There was a complication with work. Sadly that’s all I can say, and it’s for your own safety. But all you need to know is I’m fine now and it’ll be okay. I’ll be honest, I won’t be seeing out of this eye again. But before you say anything, I knew the dangers of this job before I jumped into it.”

Lavender let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “I know you’re okay and that you knew the risk. It’s just..just.” She once again threw her forelegs around Nox but in a much softer hug. Tears started to stream down her face as she cried into his shoulder.

Aurora finally got up went walked over to close the door, giving the two a bit more privacy. She also decided it was best just to go sit back at her desk on the other side of the medical office and read to give those two some time together.

A little while later and Lavender finally let go. Watery eyes looked up at Nox. “Please never scare me like that again. You’re the only family I have left, and I don’t know what I’d do if ever you didn’t come home.”

Nox was softly petting her mane. “Sis you know I can’t promise that…But I can promise to try my very best to make sure that never happens. Remember, if anything like that ever happens to me, Glacial’s already said she’d look after you in a heartbeat.

Lavender clearly didn’t like the idea, but she grit her teeth and nodded. She let go of Nox and walked over to Aurora. “Thank you for taking care of my brother, Aurora. I really appreciate what you did.”

Aurora giggled a little at Lavender’s timid thanks. “No problem sweetie, it’s why I’m here. If you’d like, he’s free to head out with you. Just make sure to keep him balanced until he gets used to only using one eye.”

Aurora then looked over at Nox. “And you, remember to check on your eye in the morning and look for any signs of infection. Also if you start feeling any pain, remember to take your medication. For any other problems, you’re welcome to come right back.” Now dropping her more serious tone in favour of a softer one, she continued. “And please try and take care of yourself out there.”

A swift nod and thanks from Nox and the two of them headed out, leaving Aurora once again in a silent and calm medical office. And a rather messy one now that she looked at it, probably should have been cleaning in the down time.

Aurora was just about to start cleaning when for the third time in that night, or rather unfortunately dawn now, The door swung open. Once again startling the hell out of Aurora as Nurse Redheart flew into the room.

Her eyes scanned the room and then immediately landed on the now prone Aurora. “What in tartarus happened last night!? I hear that an intelligence operative is wounded severely and in your care, the office looks like a disaster, you didn’t feel the need to contact me about something so drastic, AND you’re just laying on the floor!”

Aurora gave a sheepish grin with a look of terror on her face. “U-uh…I can explain everything?” With Nox healed, for the most part, and Aurora getting reamed out by Redheart, things were back to normal once again.

[timelordthirteen]

Killing Time 24/35

Detective Weaver/Belle French, Explicit

Summary: A Woven Beauty Law & Order-ish AU. Written for Writer’s Month 2019.

Chapter Summary: Belle feels out of sorts, and Weaver makes another crucial discovery.

Notes: For my August Writer's Month prompt #4: Am I dead? Enjoy more flirty investigative idiots.

[AO3]  

Belle groaned and rolled over, facing away from the sunlight slanting in through the gap in the blinds and tucking her face into the pillow and sheets.

Weaver pulled a t-shirt over his head, and glanced at her. “Alright?”

She lifted her head and squinted at the clock. It was nearly eight. “Am I dead?”

He snorted softly. “If you can ask the question, then I think the answer is automatically no. Still not feeling well?”

Turning around, he moved to the bed and sat on the edge, reaching out a hand to feel her forehead and the side of her face. “No warmer than usual.”

“My head is killing me,” she mumbled, finally rolling onto her back. “And my stomach is...blah.”

Two days ago, Belle had awakened to a mildly nauseous feeling, but assumed it was the burritos they’d had for dinner coming back to haunt her. It was carried out from a new place down the block, which was always fraught with danger, both in terms of how the food might taste, and the reaction one’s body might have later, but their meal had been delicious, and Weaver had felt no ill effects. Last night, a headache had sent her to bed early, and seemed to have gotten worse overnight.

Frowning, he ran a soothing hand up and down her leg. “Maybe you need to see someone.”

She sighed and pushed herself up. “I have my last follow up appointment today, from removing the stitches. If it hasn’t gone away by then, I’ll bring it up.”

Weaver nodded and stood to finish getting dressed. “When do you see Archie again?”

“After my follow up,” she replied, pausing on the side of the bed to press a hand to her forehead.

“Did you, uh, still want me to go with you?” She looked up, and he shrugged. “Not today, but sometime?”

“Yeah, not - not today.” Then she made a face and then asked, “Can you get me some Tylenol or something?”

“Yeah, sure. And coffee?”

At that, Belle smiled. “God yes.”

Weaver left the bedroom, and Belle forced herself to stand up. After a moment of dizziness, she realized she felt a bit better, and wondered if she had just slept wrong. She was actually looking forward to getting her official, clean bill of health from the follow up visit, and to discussing something particular with Archie - the matter of how to approach her questions with Ian. She had started thinking about the miscarriage in her head, whispering about it to herself in the shower at night, telling the story over and over, and finding that as she did it became easier. A passing reference to such a thing even a few weeks ago would have made her clam up and try to pretend she never heard it. Now it was becoming part of her, much in the same way her mother’s death had, though that had been more of a factor of time and distance than any real effort on her part.

Throughout the morning Weaver seemed to be paying her extra attention, to the point where it was starting to get annoying. Her headache abated before they’d even left the apartment, and her stomach settled with some eggs, toast, and strong coffee. At the office, he was constantly side-eyeing her, stealing little glances, with none of the winking or cheeky smiles that had passed between them in the preceding days. The pressure was back on, and she was sure the stress of the case and the looming court date were the cause of her recent ills.

“You’re sure you’re alright?”

Belle huffed and pulled on her suit jacket. “Yes, I’m fine, and shortly I’ll have an actual medical doctor confirm it. Then you can stop worrying.

Weaver leaned back on the sofa, a file folder open across his lap. “I’m unlikely to ever stop worrying about you.”

She tilted her head and gave him a small smile. His concern came from a place of love, and she had always thought his protective nature was one of his best qualities.

Her purse strap went over her shoulder, with a quick flip of her hair, and then she walked over to where he was sitting. “Then maybe just stop peeking at me every five minutes?”

He reached out and took hold of her hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it as he looked up at her. “No peeking,” he confirmed. “Got it. How about gazing?”

She snorted and bent down to plant a kiss on the top of his head.

“Ogling?” he offered with a grin. “Leering?”

She shook her head and let him pull her hand in for a kiss before pulling away. “Put your eyes on those records, Detective, instead of my ass.”

Weaver pursed his lips and blew her a kiss as she sauntered through the office door.

Belle tapped her foot against the metal step of the exam table as she scrolled through her messages.

She’d left the office barely twenty minutes ago and there were already more than thirty unread items in her inbox. Most of them were automatic responses to her requests for more of Eloise Tremaine’s records from Nevada. While the online submission system Clark County had was far more convenient than calling around city buildings and being passed from clerk to clerk, the web forms and extra emails were much less helpful than an actual human being. Still, progress was being made, and she was sure that if they could find the tie between Eloise and the Branson brothers, that they’d have exactly what DA Midas wanted.

She sighed and rubbed her left temple, feeling her earlier headache trying to return. She need to take another dose of painkillers before she got to Dr. Hopper’s.

Abruptly, the exam room door swung open and Dr. Whale came in. “Miss French.”

She looked up and smiled. “Dr. Whale.”

“Good to see you again,” he said, setting a tablet on the small counter to the side. Then he slipped on a pair of gloves and lifted her hair out of the way as he eyed the scar left from her head wound.

“Not bad,” he muttered. “There’s still some redness, but that will fade. Have you been using the ointment I gave you?”

Belle nodded. “I used up the tube, but I don’t think I need it now. The skin’s not tender anymore.”

He gave a curt nod and stepped back. “All the other superficial cuts seem to have disappeared.”

“Good moisturizer and concealer,” she said, and he laughed. “But yes, they all healed up pretty quick, thankfully.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.” He sat down on the small stool at the counter and entered a few things into the app on his tablet. “Well, I will have the necessary form faxed to your workplace, and then I won’t have to see you until it’s time for your annual check up.”

She exhaled and smiled, pleased to have at least one thing behind her for now. “Good.”

“So, the nurse said something about a headache?”

“I, uh, yeah, I had one this morning, why?”

“Not frequent, then?”

She shook her head, which caused a mild throbbing wave across her forehead.

“Migraine, or just a regular headache?”

She gave him a look. “It’s just a regular headache, I shouldn’t have even mentioned it.”

Dr. Whale leaned on the counter and regarded her for a moment. “Is it coming back now?” Reluctantly, she confirmed it was. “Any other symptoms?”

“No,” she answered, starting to get annoyed with his repeated questions. Her phone was buzzing in the pocket of her purse, and she was anxious to check it before she went to see Archie. “No, just the headache and an upset stomach. I’m fine.”

“Upset stomach?”

Belle rolled her eyes and hopped down off the exam table. “It’s nothing. I just ate something that didn’t agree with me.”

“When?” he asked, frowning.

“A couple days ago, why does it matter? It has nothing to do with my - accident.”

It was Whale’s turn to give her a look. “Belle, you didn’t have an accident trying to parallel park, you were attacked by a murderer.”

“Serial killer,” she corrected, “and yes, I was, but now I’m all good. Can I go now?”

He sighed. “The headaches can be a sign of PTSD.”

Belle gave him a wane smile. “Yes, I know. I’m - I’m seeing Dr. Hopper about it.”

“Ah. Well, that’s good,” Dr. Whale said as he pushed to his feet. “Look, I think we should do some tests, just to be sure.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What tests?”

“A basic chemistry panel, maybe a blood count, see if you might have an infection coming on.”

She frowned again, the wrinkling of her forehead causing another small wave of pain. “Sure, I guess.”

“I’ll send the vampire in to take your samples, okay?”

That earned him a soft snort and a nod. “Okay.”

Belle waited a few minutes for the nurse, and then several more as she filled up three tubes with blood. Her arm was aching after it was done, and she wondered how she’d explain the bandaid and bruise in the crease of her elbow to Weaver. If he knew Whale wanted blood samples, he’d worry even more and become unbearable. He’d probably insist on packing her off home and waiting on her in bed.

Still, as she left the clinic and stepped out onto the street to walk down to Archie’s building, she was glad she let them do the tests. If she was getting sick, she wanted to know right away so she could be back to one hundred percent to finish out the case well before the trial started.

Weaver spread out the pictures across the top of the conference table, and placed the associated forms beneath.

He wanted to have everything laid out by the time Belle returned from her appointments, so he could show her what he had found. Another break only a short time after the revelation of Eloise’s true surname had him buzzing with excitement. This was what he truly loved about his job, digging out the pieces and putting the puzzle together. The part where they hopefully got justice for the victims was satisfying, but there was something about the mental and physical effort of investigating, the late hours and countless pots of coffee, that was only second to being with Belle.

That he got to do it with Belle again made it even better, and he hoped that things would continue as they had into the future. They had yet to discuss their relationship in any detail, but she wasn’t in any rush to leave the apartment, and the last two weeks had been among the happiest since the early days of their marriage. He wanted to wait until the stress of the case was over before approaching the subject again, but for now everything seemed perfect.

The office door opened and he turned to see Belle, who looked a little worse for wear than when she had left just a couple of hours earlier.

“You okay?”

She sighed heavily as she put her purse in its usual bottom desk drawer, and said nothing as she took off her suit jacket.

“Belle?”

“Yeah, fine,” she replied. “Just tired. Talking to Archie takes a lot of out of me I guess.”

He nodded, but remained quietly unconvinced. She had been out of sorts the last couple of days, which certainly could have been stress related, but Belle usually thrived under the deadline of a trial. Right now she seemed barely able to drag herself across the room to see his newfound evidence.

“Well, maybe this will wake you up,” he said. “I got something on our second victim, Charlie Dunn.”

“Oh?” Belle perked up a bit at that, and kicked off her shoes before padding across the room. “What did you find?”

“This,” he said, giving her a sly look as he pointed to the faded pink carbon copy form under Charlie’s picture.

Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the page, and then she picked it up. It was the cover page to an adoption agreement with Charlie’s name on it from nearly twenty years ago. He would have been about six or seven at the time. What struck her though, was the state seal at the top.

“This is from Nevada.”

Weaver grinned. “Yep.”

She looked at him wide eyed. “Charlie was adopted.”

“From Nevada,” he added, nodding towards the paper.

She set the paper down on the table and looked over at one of the other victim’s pictures. “Just like Molly was.”

“Yep.”

She straightened and turned to him, eyebrows raised. “You don’t think -?”

His grin widened. “Oh, I do think.”

“If the others are adopted too…” she started.

He nodded. “Or were foster children…”

Her mouth fell open as she finally caught on to his line of thinking. “Of Eloise Tremaine.”

Belle jumped forward and pressed a hand to his chest. He could feel her body shaking with the same excitement he’d had at the discovery and what it might mean. Instantly she looked refreshed, and he was glad to see that it was probably the case dragging on and the stress that had gotten her down.

“We need all the foster care records from Robert and Eloise, and we have to pull the paper birth records on all the victims.”

Weaver picked up a stack of papers and handed them over to her. “I took the liberty of filling out all the forms while you were gone. Including the fax cover sheets.

She took hold of the other end of the papers, and beamed at him. “I love you.”

[wizardessheart-sideb]

[Image ID: A chapter image done in the style of Wizardess Heart. A large, off-white imagine with a guy on it. He’s wearing a dark gray uniform. There’s a lavender bar over him that reads “Tsukasa Kuze.” The rest of the text reads “Main Story” and “Chapter 9: The Truth” /End ID]

Chapter summary: Tsukasa’s home sick again and finally tells me the truth about what’s going on.

I’m staying home today. I’m sorry I can’t walk you to class. Love, Tsukasa.

That was the Magic Note Tsukasa had sent me this morning as I ate breakfast. My stomach had dropped to the floor when I read it. I was really hoping he’d feel better, but apparently not. Did Azusa not come over and give Tsukasa medicine? Was Tsukasa just really sick? Again, once classes were over and I’d run an errand, I knocked on Tsukasa’s door with my free hand; the other had a small to-go bowl of soup.

“Come in,” he called weakly. I quickly went in, placing the soup on his nightstand.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” I asked.

“Bad. But I took some painkillers, so hopefully my body stops hurting soon.”

“Is it everywhere?”

“Basically,” he pouted. I sighed and handed him the soup. His face lit.

“You didn’t have to get me dinner. Thank you.” He didn’t wait to dig it, carefully taking off the lid and grabbing the spoon. He said something I didn’t quite understand before shoveling the soup into his mouth.

“You don’t have to thank me. It’s the least I can do.” I got on the other side of the bed, laying back on the pillows. “I don’t want to push you, but have you had your medication recently?” Tsukasa nodded, putting his spoon down and swallowing.

“Actually, Azusa came over this morning and gave me a dose,” he told me. Relief flooded my body.

“So you’ll be feeling better soon?!” He bit his lip and stared at the blankets. The relief I’d just felt evaporated in seconds. “Tsukasa?”

“I… I honestly don’t know.” His voice was barely above a whisper.

“But doesn’t this medication help keep you from getting sick in the first place?!”

“It does. But… I really didn’t want to tell you this.” My heart stopped.

“Tell me what?” I demanded, trying to sound calm when I felt anything but.

“My medication does keep me from getting sick, but it’s real purpose is to keep my body healthy. But we’ve been running low on it and… It’s watered down,” Tsukasa admitted.

“It’s what?!”

“Azusa’s mixed it with fillers so I don’t run out, but now it’s so weak that honestly, I don’t think it’s really doing anything anymore.” My blood ran cold.

“Tsukasa, why wouldn’t you tell me this?!” I demanded angrily.

“I already told you that I don’t want you to worry about me. You’re so stressed about classes and your Judgment and my health problems were just piling stress on,” he defended himself heatedly.

“But this is serious! I’m thankful you’re trying to make me less stressed, but this is your health! I need to be in the know about this sort of thing! I can’t help you if I don’t know everything.”

“I know, but if there’s a way to keep you from being totally stressed, isn’t that something I should do?” he countered, eyes narrowing.

“I mean, in most cases yeah, but this is different. This isn’t getting us dinner while I’m working late.”

“I…” He sighed, clearly frustrated. I certainly felt the same.

“How about we just. Cool down for a couple moments and then come back to talk about this?” I suggested. There was no way we were going to get anywhere when we were both angry.

“Let’s do that.” Finally, something we could agree on.

The tension in the air as we slowly calmed down lessened and lessened. By the time I was ready to talk things out, I wasn’t mad anymore. I knew he just wanted to help me out, but I wish talking to him wasn’t like talking to a wall. I looked over to tell him I was ready when I saw him slumped against his pillows, fast asleep.

“Oh no, Tsukasa…” I sighed. I was caught between waking him up and letting him sleep. After all, he’d been so sick. And besides, I had to go meet Azusa soon. You know what, I’ll just come back. I wrote him a quick note explaining I was going to be studying in the library and to send me a Magic Note when he woke up and placed it on his nightstand.

Azusa had asked me to meet him in the forest, at a large rock in the middle of the forest. He’d drawn me a map and with the moon lighting the way, I made my way through the forest. By the time I reached it, he was already there, arms folded and looking around his surroundings.

“Sorry I’m late, I ran to Tsukasa’s room to bring him dinner,” I told him. He didn’t look happy, but he nodded.

“It’s fine. Let’s head out.” He didn’t waste a moment, walking away. I hurried after him, falling into step with him.

“Head out? What we need isn’t here?”

“No, it’s just a little ways away. We’re going to the Spring of Unicorns,” he informed me.

“The Spring of Unicorns? What’s that?”

“According to a friend, unicorns live in his area and there’s a special spring they like.” I knew unicorns lived in Gedonelune, but I had no idea they lived on campus. You’d think more people would talk about that.

“So, uh, what are we getting at the spring? A special flower? Special water? What?” I asked.

“We’re going to get a part of a unicorn horn,” Azusa said.

“We… wait,  what?!” I stopped in my tracks. Azusa stopped too and gave me a tired look.

“Come on, we don’t have all night,” he snapped at me. He grabbed my arm and dragged me along. Once I got my footing and kept walking, he let go. But it was as if I could still feel his hand around my arm. My head was moving fast, trying to figure out why we’d need something from a unicorn. And then it hit me.

“A unicorn horn?! But… wait… is that what’s in Tsukasa’s medicine?!” I squeaked.

“Yeah.”

“Hold on, but unicorns don’t live in Hinomoto.”

“Really? I, a Hinomotan, didn’t know that,” he said ssnidely.

“Stop being sarcastic, you know what I meant!” He rolled his eyes.

“When Tsukasa was sick, I used to go around to some shady merchants and see their wares. I was desperate for something to save him. One merchant managed to smuggle a unicorn in. Somehow, it died on the way over and I took it off his hands. It cost too damn much, but it worked, didn’t it? Tsukasa was healthy for years until…” His voice trailed off.

“Until what?” I prodded.

“I didn’t think getting access to a unicorn would be so hard. I knew they lived in the forests here, but I didn’t realize they only live on the peninsula the Academy’s on. I haven’t been able to get to a unicorn until this year.”

“So why do you need me to help? Do you need me to talk to the unicorn?” I asked.

“Sort of. They like the pure of heart and having you with me when we negotiate would look good. Besides, I’d rather make the medication in the Night Class lab. No one will bother me there.”

“I see. Is there anything else we need for his medicine?”

“I made the first batch with unicorn blood since it also has magical properties, but this time around since I don’t have a dead body, I’m going to skip it. It was just for extra strength, anyway.” I shuddered at the idea of Azusa butchering a unicorn, even if it was already dead.

“Does Tsukasa know what’s in his medicine?”

“No. He loves animals so much it’d be a bit of a slap in the face.” He gave me a look so sharp that it could’ve killed me. “You won’t tell him what’s in his medication.” It wasn’t a suggestion; it was a demand.

“My lips are sealed,” I said hurriedly. He gave me a smile and my skin crawled.

“Good.”

The trees gave way to a clearing with a sparkling pond in the middle. And lo and behold, a majestic unicorn had it’s head bent down, drinking from the spring. I’d seen horses before, but this creature seemed so much bigger than a horse. The air of grandeur around it made me stop in awe. There has a hand on my back and Azusa was forcing me forward. His message was clear.

“Um, excuse me?” I called out timidly and the unicorn looked up, looking at both of us.

“Humans? What are you doing here? Isn’t this a little deep in the forest for your type?” he inquired.

“Uh, we were looking for a unicorn to talk to.” What was I even saying?

“Then I guess you’ve completed your task.” He leaned down, continuing to drink.

“We wanted to ask a favor,” Azusa spoke up. The unicorn lifted its head again.

“A favor? That’s a bit arrogant to ask of a creature you just met,” he said. I mean, he wasn’t wrong, but he was being so rude to us.

“I know,” Azusa replied. “I wouldn’t ask this if the situation wasn’t dire. My brother’s body is slowly shutting down and the only medicine that can save him needs a very small amount of a unicorn horn.”

“Oh, so that’s it? You want my horn?” The unicorn’s eyes started to change to a deep red and I quickly shook my head.

“We don’t want the whole thing,” Azusa said quickly. “We know what that means. We just need a small chunk.”

“And what will I get in return?” the unicorn asked pointedly. We paused.

“… The satisfaction of knowing you’ve helped someone?” I said.

“Wrong.” How is that wrong?! “How do I know you just aren’t going to sell it off?”

“That’s fair,” I conceded. “But please. We need to help his brother. He’s really sick and needs this medicine.”

“Come back in five years. If you’re patient, I’ll let you have a piece,” the unicorn said. Azusa twitched.

“Five years?! We don’t have that kind of time!” Something about Azusa changed. He tensed beside me and it was as if I could feel negativity radiating from him.

“If you aren’t patient, then you aren’t getting a piece of my horn, which I was generous enough to offer,” the unicorn sniffed. Yeah, it’d be generous if you weren’t being such a jerk about it.

“My brother will be dead in five years if we don’t get this horn!” Azusa cried. Dead?! My stomach fell straight to the floor and a wave of dizziness hit me. No… He was being melodramatic, right? Tsukasa always said he was overdramatic. That was the case, right? Tsukasa couldn’t be dying. He couldn’t be. He was just sick right now and he was going to get all better soon.

“I will not give you anything unless you wait. I need to know you’re trustworthy.” The unicorn acted like he didn’t even care, like our words weren’t even reaching him. Did he not understand death? Considering unicorns were endangered, surely he had to understand?

“We… You…” Azusa’s fists were clenched and there was something disturbing in his eyes. The air grew still and in a moment, my body was moving.

“We’ll come back tomorrow to talk this out more, Mr. Unicorn,” I piped up hurriedly. My arms were around Azusa’s waist and not a moment too soon. A second before I grabbed him, he started to lurch forward.

“Let go of me!” he screamed at me. He was seething as I dragged him away. It was like trying to drag a rock around, but somehow, we got out of the spring. “Let GO!” He pushed me and I stumbled backwards. He was breathing heavily, glaring into the darkness. “That selfish piece of -” A long string of expletives left his mouth as he stormed forward back towards campus. I scrambled to follow after him.

“What are we going to do now?” I was at a loss. Maybe we could find another unicorn if this one was going to be a jerk? Maybe there was something else we could do?

“We’re going back tomorrow and we’re killing it,” Azusa announced coldly. My blood froze.

“Kill… Kill it?! Azusa, that’s illegal!”

“Yeah, no shit. What else are we supposed to do?! If we don’t get that horn, Tsukasa will die!” he yelled at me.

“But… !” I couldn’t think of what to say. Of how to fight back. Sure, I wouldn’t mind slapping the unicorn for being so rude, but killing it?! There had to be another way! Killing a unicorn was a serious crime. If we got caught… I shuddered at the thought. But at the same time, what if Azusa was right? What if this was the only way to save Tsukasa? I wasn’t going to let him die, but if this was truly the sole way of keeping him alive… I just didn’t know.

The walk back to the dorm was silent. If I wanted to break the tension between Azusa and I, I’d have to cut it with a knife. I stole glances at him every so often. He looked quietly furious, fuming at how things turned out. I didn’t blame him. I understood where the unicorn was coming from, but it was harsh. Maybe if we came back tomorrow, he’d change his mind?

“Meet me tomorrow at the same place, same time as tonight,” Azusa ordered me. “We’re getting that horn if it’s the last thing we do.”

“There really isn’t another way?” He made a noise of disgust, rolling his eyes. What Dorian and Aika saw in him, I didn’t know.

“There’s not! How many times do I have to tell you that?!” he fired back. I flinched and he just rolled his eyes yet again. “If you don’t want to help, fine. I’ll just do it on my own since you clearly don’t care enough about my brother.”

“Excuse me?! You have absolutely no right to say that!” I argued. “Sorry that I actually have a conscious about killing animals.”

“Oh please, like it’s a big deal. It’s the circle of life. How is killing an animal for medicine different from killing an animal for food?”

“Uh, are y’all okay?” I looked over to see Isabelle coming out of the dorm building, eyebrows furrowed. Azusa straightened up, giving her a smile and a laugh.

“Oh, we’re fine. We were just talking about food ethics,” he lied. Isabelle just gave him a skeptical look.

“Uh, okay? Sweetie, we’ve been looking all over for you. Dorian’s almost done with dinner.” She put her arm around me and pulled me away. “Later, Azusa.” She didn’t even wait for him to respond, taking me inside and up to our dorm. “Was he bothering you?” she demanded as soon as Azusa was out of earshot.

“N-No, not really,” I lied.

“I have no qualms about beating someone up -”

“What? No, Isabelle. I don’t need you to beat him up. We just had a disagreement,” I added.

“Okay. But if you change your mind…” She winked. Note to self: don’t make Isabelle mad. “But seriously, where have you been? I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“I got into a fight with Tsukasa and… Oh no!” I need to go talk things out with him! “Crap, Isabelle, I’m sorry, but I gotta go talk to Tsukasa!” I started running back towards the dorm.

“Uh, okay?! Dinner’s in like, twenty minutes!” she shouted after me.

“Okay!”

I ran through the dorm, hurrying back to Tsukasa’s room. Was he awake now? Was I gonna have to wake him up? How did I even really feel about this? His door was open and I knocked before poking my head in.

“Tsukasa?” I called out tentatively. He was still in bed, a textbook open. He looked over to me. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry I fell asleep,” he said as he shut his book and moved his study supplies onto his nightstand.

“I’m sorry I left while you were sleeping. And... Look, I get it. I know you were trying to do what you thought was best for me,” I said.

“I know. And I’m sorry, too. I was frustrated and not feeling well and I took it out on you. I think we both were just doing what we thought was best for each other.”

“Yeah…”

“We still need to work on our honesty with each other, but I promise I’ll keep working on it. And I promise that that’s everything going on.”

Was that true? He sounded so sincere. Maybe he didn’t know he was… No, Azusa, was totally just being melodramatic. But what if he wasn��t?

“I love you, Tsukasa. You know that, right?” I asked. He chuckled and grabbed my hand. His hand was so warm in mine.

“I love you, too,” he said, and the butterflies in my stomach were in a frenzy. … I had to find a way to save him. No matter what.

---

A delicious, savory smell wafted from our kitchen and my stomach started rumbling. Isabelle, Aika and Dorian were already at the table, eating.

“Jeez, where have you been? You’re never late to dinner,” Dorian said, irritated.

“I-I, uh…” Should I tell them about what happened?

Meeting Azusa, the unicorn, everything came rushing back to me. Azusa’s claim Tsukasa would die without this medicine. Tsukasa and I making up. My throat felt tight and it ached. My vision got blurry before the tears started. I felt Isabelle’s arms around me and I could hear Dorian trying to backtrack, telling me he wasn’t angry at me, he was only surprised and bit worried.

Isabelle sat me down, keeping her arms around me and letting me cry into her shoulder. Everything spilled out of me: my trip with Azusa, Tsukasa’s health, the unicorn refusing to help us. My sobs quieted the more I spoke, and by the time I was done, I was just sniffling. Dorian handed me some napkins.

“I had no idea Tsukasa’s condition was so bad…” Aika said.

“I knew there was something up with him, but I didn’t think it was this. Jeez, killing a unicorn...” Dorian sighed.

“I mean, I get it. If killing a unicorn was the only way to save my sister Felicity, I’d do it,” Isabelle said.

“Yeah, I get it too. But it’s not like it’s his only option,” he said. I perked up.

“There’s another way?!” I asked.

“Of course there is,” he answered. Isabelle’s eyes narrowed.

“If you’re thinking what I’m thinking, that’s a pretty big price to pay, Dorian,” she told him cautiously. “Not everyone is willing to make contracts.”

“Contracts?” I asked.

“Anything’s possible if you make a contract with a magical creature or a demon,” Dorian said.

“A demon?! I-Is that really necessary?” I couldn’t help but balk at the suggestion. But then again, if it was a way to save Tsukasa without killing anything...

“I wouldn’t say it’s necessary, but it’s easier to summon demons than magical creatures,” Dorian informed us. “Demons actively look for people who want contracts. Magic creatures generally don’t.”

“What, so you’re just going to go tell Azusa to make a deal with a demon instead of killing a unicorn?” Aika challenged him.

“It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?” he shrugged.

“Summoning a demon is so serious, though,” she pointed out.

“Uh, Tsukasa’s dying. I think this is a pretty good reason to summon a demon,” Isabelle said, folding her arms in front of her chest. “And also, it’s pretty rich that you -”

“I’m just saying Azusa is stubborn and even if Dorian suggests it, it’s not like he’ll do it,” Aika cut her off. “He likes us, but he’s also super stubborn.”

“But it’s worth a chance! And if Azusa won’t do it, then I will!” I declared. Aika and Isabelle gawked at me. The edges of Dorian’s lips twitched before he burst out laughing.

“Oh, you’re going to summon a demon? Well, if you need help, just give me a holler. Demonology is sort of my thing,” he told me.

“Don’t patronize me,” I snapped. “I want to help Tsukasa and if this is the only way I can do it, then I will! I don’t want Azusa to kill that unicorn. If I have to make a contract then I’ll do it!”

“We’re not trying to patronize you,” Aika frowned. “It’s just that making contracts with demons is a really serious thing. Sure, it’s so easy even non-wizards can do it, but it still carries a hefty price.”

“I don’t care. I’ll do it if I have to,” I told her.

Why did everyone look down on me?! I knew how big of a deal it was. But if I could save Tsukasa and the unicorn, of course I’d do it. I’d finally be able to do something for him. After so many days of being helpless and not able to do anything for him, I could finally do something to help.

[monaisme]

Day 11: hallucinations

Day 11: hallucinations

Tony paced.

He’d screwed the pooch... hard.

The look on the kid’s face as he’d disappeared into the night after the whole ferry thing? That had been rough.

But this?

Coney Island was the game changer.

How, in the name of all that is holy, did he think that this kid would step back?—Just because Tony Stark told him to? Tony knew his origin story—KNEW that Peter Parker was a boy seeking redemption for another man’s crime.

And so Tony made the decision, one he should’ve made from the start.  He’d commit to training him, tutoring him... Tony would unlock the world for him.

Thank goodness the kid was smart!

There were so many directions they could go in!

Maybe they could build another suit together? Then he wondered if Pepper would do up some paperwork and maybe they could give the kid an actual internship?! Yeah! He’d seen that kid’s desk and all those scavenged components from who knew what. If he could make those web shooters out of nothing, Tony imagined what he could do with a fully outfitted lab—Geez- Tony hadn’t done a lab binge with anyone since Bruce had, well... But the idea of watching the kid build something incredible with nothing but his own hands, like Tony kept trying and trying and trying to do.

Tony paused that train of thought for a second.

Nope. There was too much potential for deep shit happening there, and so he stopped it right there.

He definitely had to make a plan.

First, he’d need Happy. Midtown was just far enough that he’d need to collect him after school. He was sure Happy wouldn’t mind. He could get to know the kid, and then no one would have to worry about a replay of that damned beach.

Tony shuddered as he remembered the beach.

But no! That wouldn’t happen again, because the kid would be there on Tuesdays and... Fridays! Yeah, that would work. Maybe? Well, maybe every second Friday so Pepper wouldn’t get upset about his availability for those awful fundraisers and galas. They’d just need to be flexible, right? And then Pepper would be fine.

His brain was on fire with so many thoughts and ideas—“FRIDAY!” He called out. “Jot this stuff down, and when we’re done, Cc it to Pepper and Happy for me, okay?”

“Of course, Boss.” The AI replied.

Tony moved over to the bar cart tucked into the corner of the lab and poured himself a few fingers of whiskey. “Title the list, S.P.A.A.M.” He snorted as he said it and then took a mouthful of his drink. “He’ll get a kick out of it. Yeah. ‘Supply Peter An Awesome Mentor!”

Tony listed off his ideas aloud, detailing items to be created and for purchase; like the new refrigerator he’d need for drink pouches, cheese strings and whatever other nasty stuff teenagers snacked on. This lab was going to be a geek’s paradise.  

Tony couldn’t wait.

“Boss,” FRIDAY spoke, unprompted, “If I may, there are some tasks that require mentioning as you plan your list.”

He gulped down the last swallow of his drink and walked back to the cart. “Fire away, Baby Girl!” he called out. “I’m nothing, if not a collaborator!” His hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle.

“Sir, while limited, there are existing studies that show a direct correlation between lab accidents and substance use—which in all case studies, included: alcohol, marijuana, illegally procured and/or incorrectly used prescription medications, cocaine, heroin, metha—“

“Got it! Stop!” He put the bottle down with a clank. “Seriously? You got anything else you wanna throw at me, FRI?”

“Yes, Boss, in a 2018 Global status report commissioned by the WHO, studies showed that excessive consumption of alcohol in the presence of minors—“

“WHOA! WHOA! WHOA! We were doing so well! First, what do you mean by excessive?! And second—where in the ever living hell is this coming from?!”

“Boss, over the course of the last several months, I have observed a greater than average consumption of alcoholic beverages during times when the consumption itself is not considered socially acceptable.”

“But—“

FRIDAY continued over her creator, “This information, along with the concerns voiced by Ms. Potts, Mr. Hogan, and Colonel Rhodes over the course of several conversations, and the addition of a minor child to the lab environment, has led me to surmise that there is a need for adjustments to your S.P.A.A.M. protocol.”    

Forgetting about the whiskey for a minute, Tony walked over to his lab table and dropped onto the stool. “What kind of conversations are we talking about, FRI? And why haven’t I heard about them before now?”

“All referenced conversations were done with your wellbeing in mind, Boss. As I have only been programmed to report malicious intent, there was no need to make you aware.” FRIDAY paused. “I believe that Colonel Rhodes’ exclamation of “I could kill him!” was not an actual declaration of intent as neither Ms. Potts or Mr. Hogan reacted in an alarmed fashion, but if I am mistaken and need to adjust any subroutines, please advise.”

Tony was suddenly exhausted. “No, no. You’re fine, FRI. I’m just... huh.”

He sat in silence for a few minutes, thinking.

“They’re worried?”

“They are, Boss.”

“Huh.”

He sat silent for a few minutes more, and then finally, “FRI? What are the suggested task additions for the list?”

“Mr. Stark, removal of all alcohol from the lab would be the first and easiest suggestion.”

Tony didn’t disagree. “And the second?”

“Mr. Stark, it would be advisable that you participate in an alcohol detoxification program while under medical supervision before implementing any aspect of S.P.A.A.M. that includes Mr. Parker in a lab setting.”

“Huh.”

It was barely a beat before Tony jumped up, decision made.

The kid was going to be the best of them, and Tony would do whatever it took to make sure of it.

“FRIDAY, please locate all alcohol in the lab and on the private floors. We’ve apparently got some cleaning to do!”

It took longer than he thought it would but eventually every drop of alcohol had been dumped—with the exception of a bottle of scotch Howard had gifted Tony when he was eighteen years old—ironic, Tony thought, but whatever. He wasn’t too concerned about it though. All he needed to do was let Rhodey know about it and he’d be set.

And then he was done. “All right now, my dear AI, that was enough distraction. Let’s get back to the list.”

“Boss,” FRIDAY interrupted him again, “before we continue, might I suggest that you gather some essentials in the event of a medical emergency?”

“Update the first aid kits! Good call, FRI! Add that to the list!”

“Addition noted, sir, but I was referring to the need to manage symptoms of your imminent alcohol withdrawal if you choose to ignore the medical supervision aspect of the suggestion.”

The “Denial Tony” that Pepper, Rhodey and Happy all knew and despised, emerged in that moment. “It’s gonna be fine, Baby Girl. I’m not that bad. I promise.” And Tony moved to a corner of the lab, intent on organizing it for his future intern.

Of course, Tony chose to disregard the headache, after all, it was just a headache and he’d only gotten in a few hours of actual work. It wasn’t his first, and it most certainly would not be his last—so he worked on.

The hands shaking started soon after that and he realized that he hadn’t really had much to drink since earlier in the day—and if he was getting up, he may as well grab some Tylenol, too.

The nausea kicked in within minutes of the water washing down the painkillers and Tony cursed himself for drinking all of that water too fast and taking the painkillers on an empty stomach.

What an idiot move on his part.

And then he cursed himself more as he lunged for the garbage can to empty the contents of his stomach.

Tony groaned.

“Mr. Stark, would you like me to contact the medical floor and ask for assistance?”

“no,” he grunted out. “m’fine,” and then continued to heave up every single thing he’d ever consumed in the entirety of his whole damned life.

“Mr. Stark, please be advised that in the event you refuse medical intervention during an extended period of compromised health, a subroutine installed by Colonel Rhodes will be initiated. This will allow me to override your directive and contact one of your personal emergency contacts. I am allowed to ask for a preference, but in this case, Happy Hogan is currently on-site. Because you are still conscious and not actively bleeding, you have fifteen minutes to exhibit signs of improvement.”

Tony spit into the garbage can, breathing heavy, then glared at the ceiling. “I keep forgetting the asshole went to MIT. shit.”

Being left with no choice, Tony stood up from the floor where he’d curled around the can. He only staggered a little as he made his way toward his nap couch, then sat. “What happens if I decide to take a nap?” He called out. “Are you still gonna narc on me?”

FRIDAY responded, “I will continue to monitor, Boss, and will make that determination as your vitals dictate.”

“Awesome,” he groaned and swung his legs up onto the couch before settling his head down on the throw pillow. “Let me know how it works out, FRI!”

Tony closed his eyes.

He didn’t know how long it was before he woke from his dose. Something must have been malfunctioning, though, ‘cuz he couldn’t take the unbearable heat anymore. “FRIDAY! You gotta lower the heat,” he called out. “I’s like a sauna in here.” He pulled off the hoodie he’d been sporting all day, hoping he’d cool off.

“Mr. Stark, it is currently 68F with humidity resting steady at 43%. Are you certain you would like me to adjust settings?”

Even in his muddled state, the scientist in Tony knew that those conditions were optimal. Any major fluctuations could mess with the sensitive equipment he used for his suits. “Never mind,” he replied, and decided to try and get back to sleep.

Tony wasn’t sure if it was his heart racing or FRIDAY’s announcement that Happy Hogan had been notified of Tony’s condition per Rhodey’s protocol and was on his way that woke him up this time, but he was up—

And he felt like death.

But it was okay. He was fine.

It was just that his heart hadn’t beat like this since Tennessee but then he and Pepper had gotten back together and everything was fine. He was fine.

He vomited again, this time on the floor.

He felt disgusting.

He was disgusting.

“Of course you are! Look at you!” Of course. Howard was always around to rub it in whenever Tony wasn’t peak Stark.

“Please don’t, Dad. I can’t deal with you right now.” Tony pulled the throw cushion over his face to block him out.

“Of course you’re gonna try to hide! Pure Tony! Always running away from the consequences of your actions. Well, maybe you’ll listen to your mother!”

“Howard, hush. Can’t you see that he’s not feeling well?”

Tony sat right up, “Mom?”

She smiled at him, looking as beautiful as always. “Sweetheart, why aren’t you in bed? I know how much you need your sleep when you’re sick.”

“I’m... I...” Tony couldn’t find the words.

A hand pressed to his forehead.

“Speak up, boy! I—I- just spit it out! For fuck’s sake! Stark men are made of iron! You know this!” Howard looked down at him, “You’re no Stark at all, are you?”

Tony tried to stand, but a hand on his shoulder kept him in place, so he continued, “Dad, I’m trying so hard! There’s a kid—he’s...”

“Of course there’s a kid.” Howard spit out in disgust. “ Perfect. Some bastard floating around out there, demanding power and prestige just because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants.” Howard stepped forward, intimidating. “MIT was supposed to make you into a man, but you and your progeny are nothing.”

Visions of Peter on the ferry while pulling together tonnes of steel overlapped with burning sand and vulture wings. “No! Pete’s... Pete’s a good kid. I’m gonna... I’m...”

“Yeah, Boss, he is a good kid and you’re gonna do great by him. I know it.” Happy finished his thought as he kneeled on the floor in front of him.

Tony blinked back into reality. “Happy?” He looked around the lab, feeling more and more frantic as the minutes passed. “Mom? Mom?! Happy?” He grasped at Happy’s suit jacket. “Where is she?!”

“Hey, hey! Tony, you’re okay!” Happy called him back into the moment. “I’ll go looking for her in a minute, okay?”

“Happy! She was right here and...”

“I know, Tony. It’s okay. Shh-sh-sh-“ Happy cleaned his face with a damp cloth. “We’re gonna get you somewhere safe and then I’ll go look for her for you, alright?”

Tony was confused. She’d been right there—and Howard? But he trusted Happy and so, “Yeah, okay. Safe.”

Happy hauled him to the elevator. Literally. “suppos’d be made o’iron...” he kept mumbling, but then the elevator doors opened, revealing his mother once more.

Tony beamed. “Mom! You’re back!”

And she spoke, “You know, you may be a Stark, but you have Carbonell blood running through your veins, too, Anthony—and trust me, they weren’t made of iron.

“Not iron?”

She smiled at him so lovingly, “No, son. They were made of earth and wind and heat. They lived for muddy fingers and grape stained toes.”

“Fingers and toes?”

“Yes, son, fingers and toes. They were joy and sunshine and laughter... no iron in them at all. Just joy.”

He looked at her, feeling maybe hopeful, “So ‘m a Carbonell.”

A hand touched his cheek.

“Yes, son, you are my joy.”

And Tony began to weep.

Happy increased his speed after gathering up his friend in his arms. “FRIDAY, make sure Cho is ready to receive. I know you tracked his day, too. Make sure she’s got a timeline.”

“All information has been relayed.”

Happy shifted the man as he waited for the elevator to reach the med bay floor. “Tony,” he whispered to him, “You son of a bitch. You gotta tell the people who love you about shit like this so we can take care of you.” The doors opened and Happy rushed down the hall. “You’ll get through this buddy. We’ve got you.”

* * * * * *

It wasn’t the next Tuesday, or even the Tuesday after that. It was the third Tuesday after that fateful day at the beach when Peter finally arrived at the tower for his first official internship day.

Tony was waiting in the front lobby, looking pale and a little thinner than the last time Peter had seen him, but feeling more present than he had in a long time.

“Mr. Stark! Oh, m’gosh! I cannot believe I’ve got an actual internship! When I told Ned that I’d actually be in your labs he almost died! This is gonna be so awesome!” Peter bounded up to him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“It is going to be incredible, kid! Wait until you see what I’ve done to the lab! And you have to take pictures of the fridge to send to Ted when we get there. Did you have any idea how many different types of drink pouches there are? I know I’m a billionaire, but we’re gonna have to whittle that selection down a little.”

Peter laughed as Tony led him to the private elevator. “Mr. Stark, you have no idea—this is like, on the top of my bucket list, having any sort of anything at Stark Industries! Like, if I died right now, I’d be the happiest person to have ever died—not that I want to die, it’s just...” Peter seemed lost for words. “Just,” Peter made some primal sound that Tony figured spoke volumes more than everything else the boy could manage to articulate. “This was right above going to Italy with May—but don’t tell May that it was above, ‘cuz she’ll try to make me some pasta or something to convince me I was wrong and then I’ll really be dead.”

Tony’s heart warmed and he threw his arm around Peter’s shoulder. “Hey, speaking of Italy! I have recently been reminded that my family has a vineyard there...”

 @febuwhump

[singeramg]

Midnight: Chapter 5

A/n: Here is chapter 5! Its getting better and honestly I am hella excited! Once again this follows Justice league with the addition of my OFC. Better explanation of how it would go if she were there.

Pairing: Clark Kent- Superman/ Metahuman! Black! OFC

Rating: M

In case you missed it:

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Midnight: Chapter 5

 “Superman is in the wind and Steppenwolf has the third box.”

 Aquaman was pissed off, tossing what I was sure to be valuable pieces of equipment around, meanwhile I was sitting with an ice pack on my head, dosed with painkillers and waiting for Bruce to pull this mess together. Better yet I was waiting on a car to pick me up and take me home. I wanted no parts of this craziness. I wanted to go home and hug my son. Protect him from all the chaos and figure out how I could convince Ms. A to come with me. 

 “And you. I thought you were here to make sure he didn’t kick our ass!” Aquaman growls at me. He is hostile but I also sensed nervousness under all of that. I turned to look at him.

 “I promised to make sure he didn’t kill you. That ass whoopin’ was self-inflicted. Batman knew that going in. Don’t be mad because you got your asses handed to you. Newsflash I did too!”

 “She saved my life and yours too Diana. She threw force fields up between us and Clark. To the detriment of herself. She didn’t even have enough time to protect herself as evidenced by her neck. So just calm down!”

 Bruce says firmly, leaving no room for argument.

“That being said I am going home. My job here is done.”

 I could hear my head ringing, and I really just wanted to go home and cry. There was a reason I stayed away from Metropolis. I stormed off, determined to just take a taxi to the train station. I made it to the front of Batman’s hideaway when someone ran toward me.

 “Please wait!”

 It was Diana or should I say Wonder Woman.

 “It’s obvious that I am just on the way here. I’ve got someone else that needs my protection.”

I said in reference to my son.

 “Midnight. I know it may seem that running away is the best option but you know as well as I do that the world needs you.”

 “Aquaman doesn’t think so.”

 “Arthur is...he’s a little hot headed at times.”

 “You think?” I said full of sarcasm, Diana just smiled at me and touched my arm.

 “I promise you his heart is in the right place. With Superman gone, we need you even more now. You won’t have anything left to protect if we can’t stop Steppenwolf.”

 “Clearly I am not strong enough I couldn’t even handle Clark.”

 She looks at me, a knowing look behind her eyes and a smile on her face.

“That was a strong force field you held over me and an even stronger blast of lightning you shot at Steppenwolf. Something tells me you could have handled him just fine. You just didn’t want to, just like he didn’t want to hurt you.”

 I laughed, and pointed to my neck, his fingerprints still very visible. 

“Oh yeah sure he didn’t want to hurt me. You know besides the whole confusion, choking the shit out of me thing.”

 “ The way he sat you down...” I cut her off.

 “Was because he heard Lois’s voice. It had nothing to do with me.”

 Eager to change the subject I stomped back inside.

“Come on. We’ve got a world to save.”

She laughs behind me as we head back inside where she leaves me to check on Bruce. I walked over to the Cyborg man I had yet to meet properly.

“Glad you stuck around. We could use someone else to calm down the Fishboy over there.”

I giggled and he smirked back, then went to focus on the task Batman had assigned before leaving out the door. 

“Seeing as I have decided to stay I want to be of use. How can I help?”

“You can manipulate energy correct?”

“Among other things but basically yeah.”

“Do you think you can help me find these boxes-you know the change engine?”

 “From what I can tell from having been its proximity, it radiates an enormous amount of power and energy.  The amount it would put out with all three of them especially once Steppenwolf starts them up should be enough to track. I could try to sense them or boost your receptors so you can find them seeing as you share its energy.”

 He smiles at me and turns back toward one the many screens in front of him. 

“My name is Victor by the way.”

I touch his shoulder blade and say

“Nice to meet you Victor. I am...Gia.”

I didn’t know what would possess me to tell him my real name if I planned on getting away from these people as soon as possible. I focused on the task at hand, taking a few moments then began pushing energy into Victor. He seemed to seize up for a moment as he adjusted to his new power and range. The fast kid came back in the room with an arm full of snacks, sitting in a chair next to where we were standing. 

“By the way, I am Barry but everyone calls me The Flash. Ummm... no they don’t I just wanted to sound cool. It’s Barry! Glad to meet you or should I say nice to meet you? I’m glad you’re here. Ummm. Just forget the rambling.”

I laughed and stuck my hand out for him to take, thankfully he offers the one without Cheeto dust on it and I shake it.

“It’s Gia. Nice to meet you Barry.”

 I called him a kid in my mind but honestly we weren’t that far apart in age.

“Wanna chip?”

He offers the bag and I smile taking one...

 *Later*

Victor found the boxes rather quickly, and Batman readied the jet. I took the time to call home and check in with Kalen. I tried not to cry as I heard his voice, he had no clue the danger I was walking into. I knew from the moment he was born I would walk into it a million times just to save him. I told him I loved him, wiping stray tears from my eyes in the back of the plane. I thought I was alone until I heard.

“I take it, that was your little one?”

A gruff yet familiar voice from behind me. I turned to find Arthur standing in the doorway. I straightened up my stance trying not to appear weak in front of the man who basically questioned my worth earlier.

“Yes That was my son.”

 “You left him behind to come fight with us?” He questions and I have to decide if I should take offense at his words, or just at face value as that gruff behavior was how he always was. 

“I came because I have to protect him. The world is just a nice additional prize.”

 He nodded in understanding. He offers his hand and I shake it. 

“I think we got off on the wrong foot. My name is Arthur Curry.”

“Gia.”

“So Gia you ready to kick some Alien ass?” I smirked.

“Of course! It’s time to fuck some shit up.”

“I knew I liked you.”

 He says at my use of foul language, and leads us back to the group that was waiting...

 The plan was simple as we made it to where Steppenwolf was keeping the motherboxes. Fight off the bug-like creatures, while Diana and Arthur took on Steppenwolf. Victor would work on separating the boxes so that they didn’t destroy the world as we knew it. Even when Batman decided to sacrifice himself (like an idiot I might add) I focused on destroying as many as I could.

 I was using a combination of my blade and Kinetic pulses to keep them at bay and off of cyborg. Arthur and Diana were giving Steppenwolf a run for his money, but he was still stronger. Batman sent Barry off to help civilians and soon after Cyborg had his leg ripped off. While slightly grateful it could be fixed, I was pissed off and I attacked Steppenwolf with the strongest blade I could muster. He was matching me blow for blow, I was infinitely stronger as he didn’t realize I was feeding off of his energy. I would say arrogance was powerful and I could use all of what I could get. In an effort to spin around, he grabbed me before I could get away, one large hand around my neck. All he had to do was tighten his fist and I would be a gonner. I was gathering enough energy to throw him off but I didn’t know if I had that long, when the pressure was suddenly gone. 

I dropped to the ground coughing from being choked for the second time in a day. I looked up as Superman had basically torn him off of me and was beating him, tossing him to Diana and Arthur. He was in front of me a moment later, helping me to my feet. 

“Gia?”

He questioned as if he had forgotten who I was. I half expected him to.

“I’m fine. Let’s end this.” I leaped, landing from the ground up to the metal platforms that Cyborg and Batman were standing on. Superman landed next to me.

“How can I help?”

Victor spoke up at my request. 

“I can use some help here.” I looked at him.

“Superman can you pull boxes apart? In a few moments you will see your opening.”

“Any Blow back?”

  “Some, but I think we can take it.”

        “Good I rather like living.”

 “You two better get clear.” Victor says thoughtfully. I knew I couldn’t let the world or at least this part of it be in danger if I could help it. 

 “What if the field is too big? I can contain the blow back.”

“Gia you are not strong enough...” 

 Clark started, the concern was obvious but I honestly didn’t care what he thought I could handle. I had moved from under his wing a long time ago. 

“Clark not now! You have no clue what I am capable of anymore! You are wasting time, I’m doing this!”

I could feel him looking at my face but I wasn’t looking at him. I used all the rage I felt in the moment and focused it on building a shield.

“Now!” 

Victor yells and Superman reached into the blinding light, with me tossing up the strongest shield I had, as the two Superheroes were thrown backwards against it and as predicted was strong, but I kept it contained, turning the energy back on itself and forced it back into the boxes. 

 “Oh I take that back. I want to die.”

 Clark starts rolling around on the ground. 

“My toes hurt...” says Victor

 “Children. Gia we work with actual children.” Diana yells up to me and we laughed, I leaned over the railing, mild relief over me. Barry came running back in, but I only had a moment to register Steppenwolf’s energy, before he grabbed him and tossed him into the nearest wall he could. 

Barry was knocked out but not dead thankfully and Arthur and Diana began fighting him again. I shot out a bolt of energy striking him in the chest and he yelled, distracted enough that Superman was able to freeze his weapon and Diana destroys it with one blow of her sword. 

His fear was palpable as he realized he had lost. I turned away as his minions turned on him, destroying him. 

“Now that’s what the fuck I am talking about.” 

 I fist pumped and breathed a sigh of relief...

 One look from Clark in my direction and I knew my battle was far from over...

~~~~~~~

A/n: Thanks for reading!  If you would like to be added to the tag list for this or any of my stories, please let me know.

Tag list: 

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[hookaroo]

Vocivore, Ltd. (41 of 46)

Also on FFN and AO3 (ListerofTardis)

Tagging @ouatwinterwhump, @killian-whump, @sancocnutclub, @killianjonesownsmyheart1, @courtorderedcake, @facesiousbutton82 <3

***THE MOST WONDERFUL, HEARTBREAKING, and BEAUTIFULLY WHUMPY COVER ART BY @cocohook38 HERE and HERE!!!!!!!!!*************

***Chapter 12 animation and art that will absolutely astound you!!!!!!!!!**********

***LETHAL Chapter 19 art in all of its BLOODSTAINED GLORY!!!!************

**POOR STABBED KILLIAN falling into the sheriff station! Ch. 7 & 23 art!!**

****KILLIAN AND HIS MASTER IN THE GORGEOUS CATHEDRAL!!!!!!!!!!!!    CHAPTER 1 ART THAT KILLS ME EVERY TIME I SEE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*********

*CH 34 ART! A DEFEATED KILLIAN, HEAD BOWED BEFORE HIS MASTER!!*

***CH 36 ART! DETECTIVE JONES BOWS BEFORE HIS NEW MASTER!!!!!!***

***AAAAHHHH!!! THANK YOU MY WONDERFUL COCONUT FRIEND!!!!!!***

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Present (Saturday)...

In the presence of his Master, Killian lay inert.

There was no escape. Not ever.

No immunity, not in the end. He had resisted as long as he could. But now, he no longer had any control over his body. He could do nothing but lie helpless, paralyzed and at the mercy of the creature endlessly circling. Tapping that eerie cadence around and around, stopping only to prod at him, squeeze and pinch and crush. His ankle. His hand. His ribs.

Killian could not even scream anymore. Sometimes he felt on the verge of knowing why. The tentacle snaking down his throat did not truly hurt, though on occasion it inspired such panic that he would rather be dead than endure its presence any longer. Then the moment would pass, he would lose concentration and forget the invader, and try to beg an instant’s peace, and wonder why even the smallest hint of his pathetic pleas would not come forth.

YOU CAN NEVER BE FREE OF ME. I SHALL HAVE YOU FOR ALL ETERNITY.

Yes, Master.

Had there truly been a time when that commanding voice held no sway? The mantra scripted, the despair half-pretend?

NO MATTER. SAY IT FOR ME AGAIN. FEED ME YOUR MISERY.

No hope.

IT IS REAL THIS TIME.

No hope.

THE BATTLE IS LOST.

No hope.

NO HOPE. NO HOPE, TRIPOD. NO HOPE FOR ANY OF YOU. KILLIAN.

Killian?

*****

Emma burst into the waiting lounge, cursing, her heart pounding as if she'd just sprinted up to the top of the clock tower. Of course they would page her as soon as she ran down to the cafeteria for five minutes; she should never have let her dad talk her into taking a snack break.

"Whale?" she called urgently even as she spotted the physician’s distinctive shock of bleached hair across the room. He had his feet up on a coffee table and looked even more haggard than before; apparently, the past 30 hours had been rough on him, as well. He did not get up when he heard his name, opting to merely wait until Emma had perched nervously on a chair nearby. Dr. Whale gave her a reserved smile before speaking.

"He's out of surgery."

For an instant, Emma thought she might black out from the relief. Whale rubbed at bloodshot eyes, continuing,

"We did everything we could for him, for now. His lung has been repaired, his shoulder reduced, and temporary closures provided for his other injuries; they'll have to be addressed at a later date, when he's stronger. He's had probably a dozen units of blood and may require more over the coming days."

Emma felt a hand on her shoulder and realized that her father must have cleared up quickly downstairs in order to be able to be with her, and then snuck in while her attention had been riveted on the physician’s words.

Whale sighed and stretched his neck.

“I'm not going to lie, Emma; he's not out of the woods yet. He'll need constant supervision in the Intensive Care Unit until we’re sure he won't crash on us at any second. The biggest complication that we're dealing with right now is the neurological condition which, I can't even remember if I told you, has gotten exponentially worse since Wednesday.”

“The brain shriveling?” clarified David, and Whale nodded.

“The best thing for that would have been to keep him sedated while we work on a therapy, like we did for the others, but for some unknown reason, every sedative we’ve tried has only made everything worse. His blood pressure will fall, or he'll develop an arrhythmia or respiratory depression or something else equally as dangerous. It's totally bizarre, and none of the other slaves have reacted this way. Bottom line is, I don't think it's safe to keep throwing different sedatives at him and hoping one will stick. We’ll allow him to wake up and just try to keep him comfortable with painkillers.”

Around a lump in her throat, Emma managed to ask,

“But didn't you say the brain condition is slowed down when they're sedated?”

“I did,” shrugged Whale. “But faster brain deterioration will kill him slower than a clot caused by low BP would.”

Emma nodded slowly, the long list of threats to her husband's life squeezing at her heart until she could not speak. Behind her, David quietly asked,

“What about something like total anesthesia? Would that slow the condition?”

"That would be even more risky than sedation," explained Whale. "With general anesthesia, you always want to use the smallest dose for the shortest amount of time, otherwise all sorts of bad things can happen, from respiratory arrest to brain damage."

A moment of heavy silence filled the room, uninterrupted by the background noises of the busy hospital. Then Emma squared her shoulders.

"So when can I see him?"

With great reluctance, Whale stood up, unfolding slowly like a man many years his senior.

"Let's go," he groaned. "He's going to be disoriented at first; hopefully you can help with that." He glanced at David, then back at Emma as he added,

"Only you, though. For the time being, at least."

David caught Emma's hand in a quick squeeze. “Give him our best.”

*****

His Master had its clawed hand around his arm, squeezing without involving any of its nails. It hurt the stake driven through his wrist. But that was, after all, its privilege.

Harder, Master. Take what you will. I am yours.

“Killian.”

Bloody hell. Swan was in the church. He could hear her. He could almost see her, if he tried hard enough to open his eyes and focus. Impossible!

I SHALL HAVE HER TOO.

No!

A piercing pinch. A whimper without sound.

Yes… Master…

*****

It could only be an extension of his Master’s recording experiment, but how it was supposed to succeed was utterly mystifying. Any little sound stalled before it even started, not just the screams he wanted to unleash. So how would his Master glean any sort of energy from him this way?

THAT IS NOT YOUR CONCERN.

Killian’s elbow twitched and he felt an immediate jolt of stiff pain in his shoulder. He could not say when he’d been torn loose from his imprisonment, what almost certainly should have been the structure against which he’d breathed his last and surrendered his soul. The figment Emma was back, or perhaps had never left, though their Master had yet to make good on its threats against her. It must wish to drain the last remaining drops of scream energy from him first, wringing him out like a filthy, useless rag, scraping him down to the rind and then beyond.

She called to him. He could not acknowledge.

I AM HERE, insisted his Master. He felt it. Its marks of possession carved into his flesh. Unyielding limbs pinning him, holding him still.

Which of its appendages was slender enough to slip inside a nostril? Killian had no recollection of that particular trick.

“Hold still--”

DO NOT MOVE, TRIPOD.

Something twitched deep down inside his chest, sparking a powerful urge to retch. The Master’s device between his teeth confirmed itself as not-tentacle by its texture and flaccid presence, no roiling, pulsating muscle beneath its rubbery exterior, and yet it began moving again, this time sliding up his throat and exiting in one long, slippery slither, its tip scraping irritated muscle as it went.

Gagging hurt, but coughing was worse.

“Breathe,” urged many voices, Emma’s and at least one other. Z, if she weren’t dead and could speak. Or maybe it was only after death that she would.

FILL THOSE LUNGS WITH SCREAMS.

*****

When Dr. Whale had first led Emma inside, she would have sworn it was the wrong room. Her emaciated husband was simply unrecognizable, even compared to what she'd seen of him the day before. Discolored, withered, and limp, taped and wrapped, sickly pale skin free of dirt but painted with a sheen of sweat. After so many situations just like this, she probably should be at least somewhat accustomed to all of the gadgets necessary for life support, but they shocked her every time. Whale’s team had at least traded the I/O line for a more long-term central line, which she knew would cut down on the number of needle sticks necessary for blood sampling and the like.

Emma sighed. He was going to hate this. He always did, but now the parallels to his time as the Vocivore’s slave--not in control of much of anything, feeling trapped and helpless--would make it that much worse. Not to mention the damage to his hand that would take away all autonomy.

Well, she told herself, it was a miracle he was even around to hate it. And besides, it would be different this time. Magic would return soon; it had to. And then, even if she couldn't heal everything completely, she might be able to shorten his length of stay in his least favorite place.

No, she realized. She now knew of several places that would rank lower than this.

"Killian?" she called again, tenderly stroking his bony arm. In the 15 minutes she had been with him, he had showed some brief flashes of near-awareness: slight limb movements, fluttering of his eyelids, minute grimaces eliciting pangs of sympathy within her. In response to her voice, his heart rate would pick up momentarily, though it was difficult to tell whether that was from glad recognition or startled anxiety. In between, however, he would settle back into a frightening stillness that only the monitors proved could not be death.

A few minutes ago, a couple of nurses had removed the endotracheal tube from his throat after Whale had declared him stable enough to breathe on his own. The bout of choking that followed was painful to watch, but Killian still seemed mostly out of it as they attached an oxygen mask to his battered face. His eyes fluttered briefly open but did not focus before slipping closed. Since then, it was back to nothing again.

Whale appeared beside her and leaned over Killian in order to have a listen to both lungs.

“He'll come around in his own time,” he assured Emma. “This is not unusual after such extensive surgery.”

*****

Something had changed.

The paving stone had warmed, softening into something almost comfortable, a concept so unfamiliar as to be suspicious. The persistent cooing from up above mingled with an utter cacophony of bewildering sounds, none of which belonged to any reality within the horribly familiar confines of the sanctuary. And the light touch on his arm, the gentle stroking along intact flesh… for the first time, it was not altogether unpleasant. Which would only confirm what he no longer feared: total, unreserved surrender.

Does it please you, my Master?

The end of the deception and the fight.

IT IS GOOD.

He could feel it prodding at his chest with its cold, unyielding legs. He did not pull away. No horror stirred his heart, though he knew it wanted something of him.

WAKE UP.

More places were being petted, encircled, or invaded than his Master had limbs to account for; nothing made sense. And why was it insisting he wake up when he was already awake? Perhaps he could appease it with a groan.

Killian coughed. His whole throat felt raw as if acid slime had eroded all the tissue away.

I may no longer have any screams to give.

His ankle spasmed. Stabbing, burning cramps spread up his wrist from an oddly immobile hand. But his Master seemed unfazed by the revelation and continued its touching.

“Please--OPEN YOUR EYES--Killian. It’s time--YOU MUST WAKE--wake up now.”

The babbling had returned, voices on top of voices, all begging to be heard amidst the rolling of whitecaps pitching the floor into sudden, violent motion, squashing him down as though he weighed a thousand pounds, and in an instant, Killian was retching like the greenest of new recruits on their first day at sea.

If he’d thought coughing hurt, his stomach trying to eject what wasn’t there took that pain and magnified it a hundredfold.

“...Pretty common, too, after anesthesia…”

Shut the hell up, Whale, and let a man die in agonized peace.

HE WON’T ASPIRATE WITH THE NG TUBE CLEARING HIS STOMACH.

“Trust me.”

His Master’s suit had turned white.

The bucking slowed, gravity returning to normal from his feet upwards. Killian’s eyes were watering in lights far too bright and colorless, lacking any hint of refracted hue.

It wasn’t a white suit. A white coat.

“Killian?”

Tilting his neck even the slightest degree seemed to drive iron stakes all around its perimeter. Killian blinked away the tears into which his Master’s image had dissolved, leaving behind only smeared shapes and hazy colors as it bellowed a whisper,

I REMAIN.

His first in-focus sight had to be of bloody Whale, leaning over him in professional study. But the physician’s voice hadn’t been the only one to blend with the Vocivore’s menace.

“Swan?” he mumbled, almost noiseless, and promptly gagged. What he’d taken for a tentacle tightened on his arm in trembling reassurance.

“I’m here, Killian.” She moved into his field of vision and his weary eyes looked into her face, desperate for the calm that only she could provide. “You’re safe; you’re at the hospital. You made it.”

Though his vision remained blurred and unsteady, there was no mistaking the relief on her face, nor the steady stream of tears coursing down her cheeks as she tried to smile.

Sudden, paralyzing panic overtook him; he could not remember… his Master, it was there, always there, but beyond its looming presence… only fragments. A life. Such a precious life… and a corpse…

“Wh…” he tried, then, “H…”

“Don’t try to talk just yet,” interjected the bothersome physician. “You had a tube down your throat to help you breathe, and there still a smaller one going down into your stomach to help with nausea and for feeding later.”

The majority of Whale’s words got lost in the storm clouds of confusion and worry, and Killian chose to ignore the rest. But moving to keep Emma in view brought a wave of such intense pain that the room lights went out and a high-pitched, pressurized buzzing filled his ears.

“For the love of God, Hook,” Dr. Whale was saying, muffled at first but slowly clearer as Killian’s senses returned. “Hold still; there’s about 101 places you could tear open and we just finished putting you back together.”

Killian could only gulp unsatisfying breaths under the weight of the several cannonballs that seemed to be piled on his chest. In a much more patient tone, Emma pleaded,

“Try and relax, Killian; everything is fine. Hope is fine. The monster is dead. There’s nothing to worry about. I promise.”

Hope. It was Hope, the corpse. Hope kidnapped, Hope tortured, Hope dead. Emma was saying one thing, but he saw another. Hope dead. Maybe Emma didn’t know. So many terrifying scenes jumbled in his head. So much screaming and pain and despair. And Hope’s corpse, there among the flashes. The wounds were real. The Master was real. But Hope dead was not?

How would he ever be certain?

Emma’s touch; that felt real. Whale and his lackeys, as they performed their checks and asked questions he could not possibly comprehend… less so, but then again, their knowledge struck him as far beyond anything he could ever conjure.

Whence came the corpses?

I HAVE CONSUMED THEIR SCREAMS. THEY ARE DEPLETED.

His Master once again circled his bed. And Killian closed his eyes. Resigned to the torture.

*****

Emma watched her husband slip back into a troubled slumber and scrubbed at her face. The brief moment of clarity had been equally as encouraging as heartbreaking. He knew her; that was certain, and momentarily seemed to soothe at her touch, but the long periods of terrified delirium before and after had been difficult to stomach. Not to mention the apparent anguish that any small movement caused him.

Whale finished scribbling a progress note and pursed his lips. “Well, that went about as well as could have been expected. His neuro scores are encouraging, so we don’t have to be as concerned about hypoxic brain injury.”

Clearing her throat, Emma resumed resting her hand on Killian’s arm. Whether or not he consciously felt her presence, subconsciously she had to believe that she could provide a bit of a buffer between him and his nightmares. “Sure didn’t last long.”

“Combination of post-anesthesia and his pain meds. Really, sleep is the best thing for him, as long as it stays peaceful like this.” He checked a readout on the complicated IV pump and made a quick adjustment. “It’ll probably be like this the first few times. You may have to keep reminding him where he is and all that; he might not remember each time he wakes up. By tomorrow morning, I’d expect him to seem more alert and possibly stay awake for longer periods of time.”

The physician yawned and did not even seem sorry. “It’s going to be another long night, Emma. People in and out frequently. You’re welcome to stay, but no one would be surprised if you decided to go home for a couple hours’ sleep.”

Emma shook her head. “I need to be here for him.”

“Your choice.” He headed for the door. “Don’t hesitate to call someone if you have any questions or concerns.”

After he left, Emma watched Killian breathe, reassured by the small cloud of condensation that formed on the inside of his mask each time he exhaled. Then she composed a quick update to her father; she knew he would take care of spreading the word to everyone else waiting for news. That accomplished, she settled in for her lonely vigil.

Killian had endured a month’s worth of little to no rest, and low-quality sleep when he could get it. Compared to that, three or four nights of watching at his bedside was nothing. 

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[thejokersenigma]

Joker x Reader - Request - How to Save a Life

This was a request i was given a while ago based on the song How to Save a Life by The Fray

This isn’t particularity good, but I’m just trying to get myself back into writing so if you fancy giving it a read, go ahead, but it’s quite limited in character interaction

Let me know if you want to be tagged in anything

MAIN MASTERLIST

You didn’t have the energy for this

It had only been days since your release from hospital - at which point you had still been largely unable to move and your thoughts had been only upon when your next dose of painkillers would be – but now you were stood out on the cold streets of Gotham, biting down hard on your back teeth against the agony in your legs that came from walking this far in your condition.

No, you really didn’t have the energy for this.

But it also couldn’t wait.

You bobbed a subtle nod to the familiar man waiting at the back door of the warehouse, careful to hide any sign of the limp you sported as you walked down the alley – trying to pass your slow gait as due to confidence, not pain.

The man nodded back, though his face remained an emotionless mask. Just like it was supposed to be.

It had always struck you as weird how, despite the exuberant nature of their boss, the men that worked for J maintained a constant impassive and detached mask. You were never stupid enough to question it though.

The man step aside as you now moved to the doorway, holding the door open for you without a word. You made no word towards the gesture, simply stepping through into the dark corridor before. You might have been temporarily disorientated by the darkness if you didn’t know the building so well, and your strides didn’t falter as you continued straight, then took a left down an unseen corner.

You pushed open a heavy door in front of you and stepped into yet another dark room, blinking blindly at the sudden harsh artificial light that flickered automatically on overhead, triggered by your movement.

The warehouse before you lit up in stark, unforgiving honesty, but still you didn’t pause as you made your way across the empty concrete floor. The last time you had been here, the room had been full of crates containing things that you’d long since lost interest in asking about – weapons, drugs, explosives. They always disappeared as fast as they came anyway - supplies always moving. You were naïve and never lasted long if you left those sorts of things lying around in one place too long. Someone might track it down – another crime lord, mafia rejects,  maybe even the cops if they got a little help from a flying masked man.

The cruel light made a spot between your eyes pound painfully and you felt your wince pull at the tiny healing cuts on your that littered your face and at the stiches that held the larger ones together.

You had removed the bandage that the medics had insisted you kept around your forehead, exposing one of the largest cuts to the air, and you touched it gingerly now, checking it hadn’t begun to bleed again and fighting the wave of nausea that washed over you.

The doctors had wanted to keep you in longer, but the moment you could move – the moment you could sit up and then stand without feeling violent waves of nausea – you had demanded to be released.

You hadn’t like to just sit around and wait for someone to find you. You wanted everything to be on your own terms.

That’s how you survived.

And that’s what you’d been doing for years now. Surviving.

And it was killing you.

You pushed through a swinging door on the other end of the room, the light flickering on overhead as you moved down the corridor before you finally paused. You took a deep, painful breath where you hesitated.

Step one.

You rapped on the door in front of you. “J.” You called through it, clearing your throat at the weak croak in your voice before you called out again. There was a grunt from within the room and you pushed the door open.

The Joker was stood on the your left, head down as he studied something on the desk in front of him and he didn’t bother to glance up as you stepped  in. “J,” You murmured, closing the door behind you, “we need to talk.”

“Busy.” He growled, still not bothering to look up and now making as though to move past the desk and towards the door.

“Sit down, J.” You stated moodily, standing your ground and trying to catch his eyes. “It’s just a talk.” You insisted firmly when he faltered.

The Joker finally met your gaze, hard a stony for just a second before a wide smile split his face, though it didn’t meet his eyes. “Of course, my dear.” He bobbed his head politely and you watched him suspiciously as he now backtracked towards his desk, hands held out in a peace offering. “Go on, l’ll humour you,” He allowed, “If only ‘cause you’re all banged up!” He grinned widely, flopping down onto the chair behind him, throwing his arms wide with the movement.

Whose fault is that, you felt like saying, but you bit it back, knowing the comment – though true, would not help the situation. You kept your face impassive despite the Joker’s leer at you, unwilling to let J joke or play his way out of this.

There was still that window of opportunity here – a chance to stop this before you went through with it – a chance to back out.

You stepped forward, placing your foot wrong and quickly catching yourself as your leg went to buckle beneath you. You righted yourself, ignoring your fault and not missing the fact that J had not reacted in any way, ignoring it too. You weren’t surprised though - he didn’t begrudge you your injuries, but he wasn’t about to admit anything vulnerable within himself by offering anything in the form of aid. Somehow that would be an insult to him.

It still hurt you and not for the first time you wondered why you came.

“I know you’re busy, I’ll keep this short.” You stated coolly and J raised his eyebrows his bemused surprise at your seriousness.

“As tough as always I see, doll.” He teased with a growl, but you’re face remained sober. You knew he just wanted to brush this off as he always did, make you forgive him that easily and slip right back into your usual routine – where he was almost sweet to you as you healed, enough to draw you back in, then became cool and callous and you tried to turn a blind eye to it whilst he started tossing you around again like his own personal rag doll again.

“J, I’m leaving.”

You saw the grin on the Joker’s face flicker and falter for the briefest moment and then he arched his brow at you again. You couldn’t help shifting uncomfortably where you stood, not liking how vulnerable you suddenly felt. But didn’t this confirm all your thoughts to you – should feel this exposed and helpless around someone you supposedly loved.

You could almost see the options laid out before you now. Take back the words you had just uttered and stay on this path - stay with J, stay with this life – or what was left of it. Or leave and live to see old age.

J could read your face. “You’re giving up.” He sneered. It was an accusation, not a question, and it stung after everything you’d been through with him.

“I’d hardly class it as giving up J,” You snorted weakly, hiding your pain at the comment. “I’m surviving - I value my life and I thought you might actually value yours.” He laughed as though that was hilarious and you wondered why you’d even bothered to do this – to come and sit him down and try to explain, to give him a chance to save his own life as you tried to save your own.

Your last bout of trying merely to survive in this life had, after all, been what left you in the hospital with your wide variety of injuries.

You had counted your wounds numerous times as you’d laid there prone in the sterile  medical room, recalling which of the bones had been broken for the second or third time. Even now, your fingers were still strapped as you lifted your hand to brush a strand of hair away from your face, and your breathing was still shallow thanks to the sharp pain that came from your ribs at each inhale.

Your shoulder should have been strapped too – as should your wrist after one had been dislocated and the other sprained - but the last thing you wanted to show was weakness. You would get no pity here as J had already clearly proven.

You still had the vivid memory of waking up in that hospital and the sudden overwhelming fear of the state you were in – able to wiggle your toes but little else, and even that had not been a pleasant experience, your entire body emanating pain that was only dully staved off the some strong painkiller that had been trickling meagrely through the IV in your right, unmoveable arm.

You had been lucky to be alive, you had known that without the doctors and nurses routinely reminding you.

You hadn’t been so lucky, you knew however, to be alone.

“You wanna get off the merry go round, huh?” J sneered, breaking into your thoughts. “You feelin’ sick? Dizzy? Ya know if ya mighta been on too long, dolly,” J pointed out cruelly, “Get off now and the whole world’s just gonna keep spinning around ya sweety.”

You scowled at his malicious grin.

No one else had been in the harsh, sterile white room with you. No one. For once you had awoken strapped to beeping machines surrounding you and sore beyond comprehension without a sullen looking clown in the corner.

Or at the very least a guard posted to alert his boss when you awoke.

Nothing, not even someone waiting outside the door, and the week you spent no one came.

You should have been glad – who would want their own attacker in the room with them after all - but to you it had just rammed home a fact more painful than all of your physical injuries.

J didn’t care anymore.

And so you couldn’t either – though you knew that was easier said than done – even now as you stared into his cold grin and unyielding gaze.

You didn’t know at what point it had changed, what you had done wrong to form this cold, bitter wall between the two of you.

It was almost worse than the violent outbursts.

You had to leave and save your own life and your own sanity.

Of course, you wanted to save J’s as well - if you could. But that was ultimately up to him.

You feared you knew his answer though. You should have just run really – run and not looked back – not risked this visit – but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave for good without trying.

It was going to be hard though – J had to ultimately see the problem with where you were now – to want to save himself - to leave - to heal.

You knew the chances of this, but you simply – and foolishly - loved him too much not to try.

You knew the Joker was manipulative though and you couldn’t let him drag you back into it all.

“J, you might not believe this, but its for the best. For both of us. But I’d really appreciate it if you came with me. Neither of us have to do this on our own, but I will if I have to.”

“You’re the one who wanted this –“

“And I know this is you,” You confessed, slipping past his usual defence of you knew what you’d gotten yourself into. “But you’re not innocent in this – we didn’t use to be like this.”

You could almost see the window of opportunity fading with J’s silence and his stony eyes. Deep down you knew he wouldn’t follow you, but you didn’t want to believe it. But you couldn’t follow him wither more either. “J, there is so much wrong with us now, I could stand here and list everything out, but we both know it all already.” You sighed, shaking your head hopelessly, ignoring the wave of nausea that washed over you at the movement. “J this isn’t healthy. I think I knew all along it would end like this, but I – I didn’t want to face it.”

You kept your eyes low and wondered once again why you had bothered to even come and the point that it had all changed – when had your fun soured – when you could no longer consider the J as a friend – an ally – and instead he became a manacle, holding you in place - holding you in pain.

When had you lost everything?

“J, will you come with me?” You finally croaked, not able to look up, knowing what was going to happen next. “Will you save yourself?”

The Joker let out a bark of laughter. “Well listen to the preacher herself!” He cackled harshly, “The poster girl for sanity!” He gestured at you, “Oh girly you knew what you were getting into before I even bothered to take a smidgen of notice of you.” He grinned cruelly. “Now you’re telling me to save myself?!”

You could hear the silent fury behind the grins and cackling and you lowered your voice as J raised his, granting him one last choice. “The option is there J, you can carry on down this road, lose yourself completely, or break with those who drag you down it - come with me.”

You knew this was the last shot. The Joker would now do one of two things - admit to everything, the path he slipped further and further down, confess what had happened to the two of you, maybe even admit you were right.

Or he would say he was not the same as you, that this was his life and unwilling to change. And you would leave the room alone, wondering once again, just why you’d came.

There was a third option as well you supposed - perhaps he would just kill you.

You waited, but it was all too clear in J’s eyes what his answer was. You took a large shaky breath, “I know your answer, but I had to try.” You confessed, shrugging heavily. “I’m going to go.” You murmured, turning. “Good luck.” You muttered heading for the door.

You glanced back one last time at J, praying this both was and wasn’t the last time you had saw him. You would have waited longer - stayed with him all night if you had to – if you thought there was a chance you could change his mind – convince him.

Had you just known how to save him.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

CSUAVS prt 15. I decided it needed a little more

"I think he waking. Leandro? Leandro?" A soft voice ruined Lance's sleep. He hadn't remembered falling asleep, and as he pushed his heavy eyelids open, he found himself in a ship he also didn't remember. Drawing back from the hand on his leg, his heart began to race. Klearo... "Leandro, shhh. I am Daehra. You remember?" God. His head hurt like a Quiznak. His mother would have beaten him black and blue if she knew how many times he'd taken the lords name in vain "Daehra..." The woman he'd met in the woods... "... Annla?" "She is fine. Thanks be to you" "Wha... ugh... sorry. My head feels fuzzy" "I do not know your medication. I gave you dose, but you need more?" "The yellow one" "The yellow liquid? I get" Daehra's broken English was comforting. It reminded him of his friends back home who'd never quite gotten the hand of English. The only problem was, he needed someone to explain what the quiznak had happened. Dosing him with the yellow painkiller, Lance's pain finally began to recede. His stomach felt tender and crampy, and his scalp was throbbing, yet with all he'd been through, he was amazed he didn't feel worse. Moving his right arm, a small amount of discomfort emanated from the area. When he looked down, he found a cannula with a drip line connected. Clumsily grabbing for it, Daehra caught his hand "I'm sorry. I know you care no for human touch. The line helps with your cycle pain" His what now? "My... cycle?" "Your cycle. You bleed like woman, that is natural isn't it?" Lifting the sheet, he stared down in shock. The brown padded cloth beneath his arse was red, as were his thighs. He didn't randomly bleed. He didn't bleed without a "heat"... and he his stupid body hadn't had one... pushing the sheet down, Daehra blushed "It is natural? Males from your planet?" "Some males do..." He wasn't... what? He had the feeling he was forgetting something about it all. His brain was only able to process so much at that moment in time. Right now, it was focused on the fact he was bleeding "You did not expect your cycle?" "No. Not really... is there anything else wrong?" "Your wounds healed remarkably fast. You have been asleep for a quintant. You heal fast" "My body isn't quite human" "I fear your marks are not showing either. I am sorry. I shall find a way to restore them" Whatever Daehra had dosed him up with, wasn't available on Erathus. They hadn't found a way to erase his marks for him. Lessen the brightness they could do, then he could another them with makeup, but if Daehra had found a way to get rid of him... what was one more drug between friends? "It's fine. Thank you... where..." "You on my ship, heading to my planet with us" No. No. That wasn't the plan "I... what? Why?" "Kre'el said you come. She take your ship" "Kre'el?" "You friend. Yes?" "You talked to her?" "When you didn't return with Annla. I call. She found me helping you. She said to take you" "Ah... that makes sense" "She was not happy" "Kre'el didn't mean it. She's a good person" is what he wanted to say. Instead he finally lost his battle to stay awake, mumbling out a string of Spanish as he slipped under. Waking to a small body laying against his, Lance swatted at his relative. His mami knew not to let the kids into his room, but being kids, they didn't always listen. They were lucky he hadn't had a nightmare, or he'd be being shots of sympathy and pity as his mami calmed the kids. Stirring next to him, Annla's small face filled his vision. Before he knew what was happening, she wrapped her arms around him "She did not want leave your side" Prying the girl off of him, Lance didn't know how to tell her he wanted to let go. She was innocent, while he was... dirty. Letting him go on her own accord Annla raised a hand to his forehead, like a mother checking for fever "Annla. You are making him uncomfortable" "He hurts" "I know. We will help. I need to speak with him" "Ok..." Leaning in, Annla kissed his cheek "... Thank you, Paladin Lance" To Annla is was an innocent thank you. To Lance the sensation of lips against his skin threatened to send him over the edge. He couldn't breath freely until Annla had moved past Daehra, and from his line of vision "She means no ill will" "I know" "How do you feel?" "Better... stomach feels kind of gross" Beneath his arse felt wet. Cramps rolled through his stomach with such intensity he wanted to curse the world "It is your cycle. It is a heavy bleed" He was still... wait... on the ship... oh... oh... "Leandro? Leandro, are you alright?" Rushing to the side of his bed, Lance held out his hand to stop Daehra "It's nothing..." "Leandro, I feel you pain" A bitter laugh bubbled out before Lance would stop it. Daehra took no offence as she sat on the very edge of the tiny bed "Our race... for we feel and sense things. It works better when we touch, but I know you no care for touch. I do not mean to pry, perhaps you should eat, then we talk. We shall reach my planet late next quintant" Then what was he supposed to do? And what did she mean they could feel and sense things? Like an alien mood ring? He didn't want people knowing his business. He didn't even want to know his business "I can feel your anger. I will not push. Physically you have healed. Only scar remain. My brother will help you dress and eat. I will speak with Annla" "Is she... ok?" "Annla? Yes. Thanks to you. Her bruises fade but they did not do to her to you" "I... what... what do you know?" Daehra shifted. It was all over her face that she knew. She knew everything... "It is not my business. You carry much pain. I pick it up, even when you wish not. I have cream for you. To help. Once bleed passes" The pain her in her tone told him how much grief her abilities had brought her. She didn't want to pry, but she had no way to stop his emotions flooding her senses. Even if this was all out of pity, she had dragged him out before he'd gotten himself killed... and for some unknown reason he was grateful for that. Possibly because his mother wouldn't be getting a notification he'd died... he didn't want to live, but he didn't want to do that to her after she'd suffered so long thinking he was dead when they'd found blue "I'm sorry Daehra. I don't..." "I understand. Lucteal will help you dress" * Daehra's ship was older and smaller than his own. She called it a ship, where Lance called it a pod. Lucteal had helped him dress, not at all phased by Lance's bleeding as he passed him a folded cloth to wear between his legs. Having been tended to by the three strange aliens, he found himself unusually bashful as he sat in the spare seat of the pod. He still wasn't sure about any of this, but they didn't need to help him. They could have taken Annla and gone, like he'd told them to. Instead they'd called Kre'el and saved his life while he was at it. Breaking off the edge of the "food" block Lucteal had given him, Lance forced himself to eat. There was no real taste, or real texture, yet with 3 pairs of eyes on him, he couldn't simply say he wasn't hungry. Not that he had any idea what to say what it was "It isn't much. Our people have not much since Galra came" "No. No... I've had worse. Believe me" "I can feel the honesty in your word. You have question?" "A few" "I am Daehra. This is my brother Lucteal. Our sister Annla. Our mothers was king's subject. After Galra come, he had many children. The queen gave birth to Annla" "Mothers" and "queen". So they were the children of the king's lovers? Illegitimate children... "You find strange?" "No. I haven't lived your life. It's not my place to judge. Besides, I too, would do anything for my family" "You have family?" Nodding, Lance swallow down the tasteless food. Inching closer, Annla placed her hands on the side of the chair as she stared up at him. The bruising on her face was already fading. She'd been through something that had probably terrified her, yet there she was with her sparkling black eyes. In those eyes he was some kind of hero "Yeah. I come from a big family. I have two older brothers and two older sisters. But our house is always full of people. It's always really loud... I have a niece and nephew around your age Annla" "Annla, let Leandro eat" Rocking on her heels, Lance knew that enthusiasm too well. The little princess was dying of curiosity "It's ok. Maybe keep her away when I'm sleeping though" "She should know better" "She's a kid. It's fine, really. I might not have magical powers, but think Princess Annla wants to ask me something" Annla nodded "Did you really fly in magical cats?!" "Yep. I flew the blue one and the red one. We lived on a castle that floated in space" "With Princess Allura?" Lance's heart gave a pained throb at the thought of Allura, his smile turning sad before he rallied "Yeah. She was crazy smart, beautiful and brave. Just like you" Annla giggled "And there's the former Black Paladin Keith. They call him the heir to Daibazaal. He didn't even know he was part alien! And Shiro, he had as this magical robot arm that's powered by the crystal from Allura's tiara" "Daehra says I don't like act like a princess" "That's because you're always playing outside. Always getting clothes dirty and you hair in a mess" "Hair is stupid anyway" Annla's curls were beautiful. The shimmering blues shone like the night sky "I think it's very pretty. Blue is my favourite colour" Annla's face brightened "You do?!" "Very pretty" "It gets messy" Pushing off the chair, Annla grabbed two sections of her hair, lifting them up as she poked her tongue out. The curls were matted into thick knots... no doubt thanks to her treatment "Annla! Do not be rude" "She's fine. Annla, I used to help Princess Allura with her hair. Do you want me to do yours too?" "Leandro, that is not necessary" Annla's face fell at Daehra's words. The girl deserved some happiness, even if it was only as a distraction. It'd alway been easier with kids anyway. They expected him to be dumb tio Lance "I don't mind. Daehra, do you have a comb? And a ribbon?" "Leandro. Do not think..." "I'm offering because I want to. It's fine, really" Keeping Annla busy gave him an outlet for his nerves. Lucteal was busy piloting the ship, while Daehra was busy talking to him for the most part. Sitting on the tiny bed, Annla was happy to talk at him for vargas. Switching between her weird English and her own language. It made him miss Sylvio and Nadia even more, and his little baby cousin who'd only been a few months old when he'd left. He'd wanted kids. He'd wanted a whole brood of children. Allura had known that, and while he'd tried to rationalise all the changes in his body, his mind whispered that maybe she knew. Maybe she'd known how he cared for Keith... and her gift... was gift for where she saw them together, having a family of their own... Adoption would have been easier... but Allura had always taken things to the extreme when it came to family. Perhaps she didn't understand after losing hers the way she had... With those thoughts gradually invading his mind each time he looked to Annla, Lance found himself both wishing the girl was home already, and praying that when she did finally arrive home, that her mother and father realised her true worth as a person rather than a commodity. Annla's home planet was depressing. That was Lance's first thought as Lucteal landed the pod on the planet's grey surface. Grey everything had been popular for a while on Earth. House after house painted grey, with no style or flare like one found in older houses. He was tired of grey. It wasn't calming or soothing. It was simply repetitive. Moving to America had come as shock. Cuba was filled with life and colours. Houses and stores with fading paint in all the colours of the rainbow. He knew blue was a pretty standard colour to be someone's favourite colour, but what he really loved was watching the sunset over the beach. The way the cool blues darkened. The way the waters were dyed reds, purples, oranges and pinks, yet come the following day, the water would be the same refreshing and welcoming blue it always was. Or had been until the Galra came. He missed colour. Erathus had been good like that. Colour. Lights. Sounds. The planet had plenty, no matter where you went there was a bright neon light advertising something. As the ship's loading ramp lowered, Lance stood at the top. He wasn't going down there. He still needed to get back to Erathus, and if he was to see Annla's father, he was sure he'd end up murdering the man. Holding Lucteal's hand, Annla watched him with big eyes as her brother led her towards the exit. Her heels digging in when Lance didn't step down the ramp "Paladin Leandro?" "I have to stay here, Annla" "Why? I thought you were coming" "I can't. I have to call my friends and find a way back to where I live" Annla's lip quivered. Squatting down, Lucteal let Annla's hand go so she could run to him "Do you not like us?" "It's not that, Annla. I have to go back to my job. Helping other people out there" "I don't want you to" Smiling at the girl, he wiped the forming tears away "I have to. But you're going to be fine. You've got all your siblings, and you're so brave. Can you be brave for me?" "Like Princess Allura?" "Yeah. Just like Allura. You're going to be a leader for your people one day. They're all going to look up to you to protect them" "I don't know if I can" "Want to know a secret? None of the best leaders think they can. But guess what, that fear is what gives them strength. And I know how strong you are" "Will I see you again?" Holding his pinky out, Lance nodded "On Earth we have a custom. We hook our little fingers together and we shake. It's called a pinky promise. You can't ever break a pinky promise" "Really?" "Really, truly" Linking her little finger with his, they shook "Good girl. Now you go with your brother and sister" "Thank you for saving me" "You're most very welcome" Kissing his cheek, Annla dramatically pulled her finger away as she rushed back to Lucteal. When Lucteal went to take her hand, the princess shook it off. She was going to be just fine. Daehra paused by the top of the ramp, the woman worrying her bottom lip "I'm alright. I'll give Kre'el a call and organise something" "Are you sure?" "Yeah. You go. Take your sister home. Make sure she isn't bossing Lucteal around" "I will come back. Please wait here" "You should be with your family" Daehra gave him a scowl. He knew that scowl all too well "You stay here. I will return" Raising his hands in surrender, Lance nodded "Understood. I'll stay here" "Good. Thank you, Leandro. I must go" Being left on Daehra's pod alone felt weird. It seemed smaller than before now that he was the only one aboard. Sliding into the pilot's seat, he let out a hiss of discomfort. Cramps sucked. All he wanted to do was curl up with chocolate and a heat pack. He knew he wasn't hiding his pain from the three empathy, but it'd been nice to not have it rubbed in his face. They knew what happened. He knew what happened. And it was what it was. Pulling his legs up, he tapped on his communicator, before pulling the call up to the ship screen. Ringing a hand full of times, Kre'el looked livid as her face filled the screen "Leandro! What the Quiznak where you thinking?!" "Hey, Kre'el. How's everything?" "Don't try to be charming! What were you thinking? Are you even alright? You were covered in blood, Leandro! Blood! Do you know how worried I've been?" "I'm sorry, Kre'el. It was hard to call. I'm alright. I'm actually hanging out on Annla's planet right now" "But the blood?" "Wasn't mine. Mostly..." "Yes, well. I'm still upset at you. You could have been seriously hurt" "Kre'el. I'm ok. A little banged up, but ok. Now, please tell me what the quiznak happened after you guys showed up" "Klearo died before we could apprehend him. Blood loss will do that. Those alive are being transported for detention. The whole ship was a goddamn mess. What did you do?" "It's not my fault. You exactly the kind of man he was, and he wanted to do that Annla" "You got lucky. That's what happened. You got quiznakking lucky" Lance hung his head in shame, before growing angry at himself. No. He wasn't ashamed of what he'd done. Klearo had taken so much from him, it was only fare he took his life "You know exactly what he did. I couldn't let him do that to her! I couldn't let him do that to anyone, and you know it. That's why you clued me in on everything in the first place. I don't regret it" Kre'el's face softened "I was scared we were too late. I was scared I'd messed up and got you killed. You have no idea how relieved I am" "I'm sorry... Soooo... What happens next?" Kre'el rolled her eyes at him. Lance knowing he was forgiven "My boss doesn't want this getting any bigger than what it is. I can't say I'll miss Klearo's crew, or the trouble they brought all of us... but you'll need to keep your head low for a little longer. His associates aren't going to be impressed, and until they've taken out enough of themselves to quieten down, I'd prefer you be careful. We've had enough disappearances around here. Your lucky arse is getting paid to keep your mouth shut, and because I am a stellar friend, I dragged that piece of shit you call a ship back to Erathus. Might have even thrown a few things your way" "Aw, Kre'el. What would I do without you?" "The thought scares me" "Hey!" "Don't you "hey" me. You're about four decades too young to be talking to me like that" Galra had damn good genes when it came to longevity, even without tainted quintessence in their systems "You'll always be gorgeous on me" "That's enough. When are you coming back?" "When you come get me?" "Nice one, Leandro. You should have been a comedian" "Come on, Kre'el! How am I supposed to get home?" "Not with me. Consider this your punishment for making me worry. And call your damn family. You've been gone over a movement" "Yeah. Yeah. I will. Thanks, Kre'el" Hanging up on him, Lance had nothing to do with his time now the call was over. His communicator he used to talk to his family was on Erathus. He could lift Daehra's pod, it wouldn't be hard, but she'd asked him to wait... and she'd figured out how hide his marks. He still wasn't sure he was used to the lack of Allura, yet he also knew that he wouldn't have been able to move forward with her constant presence there. He wasn't sure he ever could move on anymore. Too much had happened. He'd thought when he'd killed Klearo that his anger would fade. That the broking nothingness inside him would somehow be fixed... yet, as he sat there all alone, he didn't know what to do. He didn't have Annla there to distract him. He didn't have anyone there to stop his mask from slipping. He could taste the blood in his mouth. Feel the pressure against his lips. Smell Klearo on his skin. He didn't want to cry, but everything was so fucked up. Saving Annla hadn't made up for letting Allura go. It never would have. Annla was Annla. Allura was Allura. And he was the broken man left to miscarry the thing they'd put inside of him... Daehra didn't know. She didn't know anything about it... but Lance did. The Galra had said he was knocked up, and now he was bleeding and cramping. He'd never thought he could carry... just that he made Galra horny with his messed up body. Allura had probably tried to make him more appealing for Keith, so did they mean she'd never seen a real future for him and her? God. He really was just a stupid boy from Cuba. There he was, having a mental breakdown because no one was paying him any attention. How fucking stupid could he get?! Lance was still sniffling softly when steps echoed off the ramp into the ship. Launching himself out the pilot's chair, his weapon wasn't in sight as his hand went to his hip. Coming up the ramp, Lucteal and Daehra were both carrying baskets overflowing with... stuff? It looked like clothes, food and... bedding? "Leandro! You wait!" "Daehra? What is all of that?" "We come with you" Lucteal's voice was firm, his sister nodding at his words. Wiping his eyes, Lance shook his head "No. You're finally home with your family" "Our family not even notice we gone. We like you. We stay with you" "But... you're home?" "Father has many kids. He not notice we gone" Lucteal looked particularly bitter as spat the words out. Lance might by the smallest bit lonely... No. These two had no training... "We come with you. You need someone who medicine. I do that. Lucteal. He trained in palace. He good hand-to-hand" Waving his hands, Lance was starting to panic "Wait. No. You guys can't..." "We can and we are" "You don't even know what I do!" "You help. You have kind heart. We help you" "You guys can't, it's dangerous" "Exactly. You need friends, Leandro. Someone to back you up on mission. Call Kre'el. Please. We cannot stay here. The Galra destroyed our world. We want to travel and bring things back. Help. Lucteal, you pilot. Leandro, you come. I have thread to fix your clothes" "I... I can't be in charge of your lives. I can't..." Gripping his chest, he stumbled back. Daehra placing down the basket she held at the top of the ramp "Leandro. We choose this. For the second time in our life, we choose this. To leave this planet. Besides, Annla ordered us to keep you safe. Who are we to deny our princess?" "I..." "You must breathe. We sit. You don't need to talk. But must breathe" "Why... why, me?" "You have great heart. You are hurt, but you care. You fight and strong. I can think of no one better to be our first off-world friend, Leandro of Earth" Lance wasn't sure he deserved friends. He wasn't sure he could keep either alien safe... but... friends. He missed friends. Besides, how else was going to get back to Erathus? Plus he had a little princess to think of... He might have been making excuses thanks to the profound loneliness he'd felt while left alone for a few vargas on Daehra's ship, but he still found himself nodding. As long as the pair didn't mind tolerating him for who he was. Three phoebs later, he was still having his arse saved by the pair of them as their team started to grow. Lucteal there to provide backup when it counted. Daehra there to soothe them both after a bad day. There to stitch whichever team mate they picked up along the way and needed help. Out of his newly built team, it was Lucteal and Daehra who would push him the most. Who would listen to his plans and ideas, help him navigate this weird new crew he'd picked up. He didn't see himself as a leader, yet he'd bend over backwards just to make sure that those two didn't see the ugly reality of space. It was those two who never left his side, no matter how stupid he was or how angry he got. Daehra with her gentle therapy that wasn't quite therapy. She always knew what to say, and not to push the bounds. They let him hide beneath the mask of Leandro. They let him do what needed to in order to cope. It wasn't the same as Voltron. The thrill of it all passing far too soon into repetition. His nights spent in a drug induced haze as he lied his way through his pain. Nothing he was doing was healthy. If Daehra or Lucteal weren't forcing him to eat, he'd rather not eat at all. He'd lost weight. He'd lost his spark. When he looked in the mirror he couldn't stomach the coward facing back. He cut more. Each time he brought someone in, he marked his skin. The lines now running up his side. He used his body to get what he wanted, to lure his prey to his bedroom where he'd take them out. Or back to their room if he wasn't at the club. He was doing absolutely everything he could to keep himself busy and moving. But in the quite hours of the night, when the world slept, it fucking hurt to breathe. He started keeping a knife under his pillow when his dreams got so bad he no longer knew what was real. The pain would bring him back. The pain made it real... but sometimes... sometimes it was too much. Sometimes Lucteal would break his promise of not touching him, and hold him when he crumbled. Though more often then not, his panicked state would lead to him hyperventilating bad enough that he'd pass out. Waking in the morning to find himself curled into a corner with stiff muscles. Four phoebs and he should be over it. Four phoebs... and he still couldn't get the feel of their hands off his skin. He couldn't get the sounds from his mind. He couldn't stand in a room with more than two Galra without nearly panic attacking himself into murder. Nothing he knew was helping. Everything has spiralled so far out of control he didn't know how to come back. He hunted down his prey, oblivious to the danger he put himself in to do so. He wasn't dead... but he sure as hell wasn't living either.

[the-glow-of-the-cities]

A Five Letter Problem- Prologue (part 1)

Summary: When you're suddenly reunited with your estranged father, you get a little more then you ask for. In the span of two weeks, your life is flipped upside down, you move out of your mother's small, Boston apartment, and into your father's enormous tower in NYC. Pretty soon you've found a family and friends, but knowing who you know means danger is lurking just around the corner.

A/N: So... This is the first chapter of my first fic... like ever... It’s been up on AO3 for a while, but I’m putting it up chapter by chapter on Tumblr now so boom! Btw if anyone ever wants to chat (about this fic or otherwise) just hmu pls. ALSO, I have no clue how child protective services works so I kinda made shit up, don’t murder me, please

Warnings: References to drug/alcohol addiction, implied child neglect

Words: 1.1k

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You have a problem.

A five letter problem. You have a problem that consists of your last name. No, not your last name, his last name. Your problem is the name Stark. Specifically Tony Stark, that's your problem. “What?” “That’s what it says here, miss.” “And I’ve told you that’s not right.” “Miss that’s what your birth certificate says.” “Bullshit.” “Miss-” “Bull. Shit.” “I’m sorry miss, but I’m required by law to contact your closest living relative in a situation like this.” “He is not my closest living relative.” “I’m sorry, but we have to make the call. However, you can do a blood test when he arrives if you’d prefer.” “Fine, you know, whatever, go ahead, but I can personally guarantee that whatever document you have is wrong.” “Alright miss. For the time being, do you have any relatives in the area you can stay with?” “No, but I have a friend that will let me.” “Excellent, why don’t you give me their phone number and I’ll be right back.” You write down your best friend’s name and number on a piece of paper, then hand it to the man in front of you. Alice would help you figure this out, she always does. As the CPS worker leaves the room, you resign yourself to a long wait, filled with unwanted thoughts and brewing emotions. Today was finally the day. The last straw finally broke the camel’s back, and you were glad goddamnit. The camel didn’t have to struggle, and you didn’t have to fight to keep the camel going. The camel was your mother. More specifically your mother and her, well, less savory tendencies. She had never hurt you, and you knew she never would, but every day, in the early hours of the day while the sun was still behind the trees, and yet the sky was just starting to become very slightly lighter, your mother would come stumbling through the door. When this happened, she would smell like alcohol, weed, or some combination of the two. One particularly rough day she came home smelling like urine, that was fun. You hated it, hated her. No, you didn’t hate her — only it. You knew you didn’t because every morning when she stumbled through the door you would always do the same thing. Fill a glass of water, start a shower, lay out fresh pajamas, replenish the water bottles in the fridge you always left there for your mother, tuck her in, and dispose of whatever substances she smuggled into the house. Then you would lay out her clothing for work, get the painkillers from their hiding spot in your room, ration out your mother’s dose of pills, re-hide the pills, and pack her a lunch before sneaking in a few fitful hours of sleep before you really had to get up. If you hated her, you wouldn’t go through all that trouble for her.

A knock on the door shook you out of your thoughts.

“Miss Y/L/N? May I come in?”

The same irritating voice of the social worker crept in through the cracks in the door and into your ears.

“Come in.”

“Well we contacted your friend Alice’s mother, and she says that she would be happy to take care of you until we can contact Mr. Stark.”

“When will she be here to pick me up?”

“20 minutes.”

“Alright.”

There's a moment of silence as you think, trying to figure out what else to say.

“I-I’m sorry, but I never caught your name.”

“Oh, of course, it’s Joshua James, but just Joshua works just fine.”

“Joshua. Got it.”

“Is there anything I can get you in the meantime?”

“No, I’m ok, thank you.”

“Well let me know if anything comes up, miss”

“Wait, Joshua, I actually can think of something. Any chance I could get a notebook and pencil in here? Please?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you.”

Once again he leaves you to your thoughts and the short, yet excruciatingly long wait.

------

Tony’s POV:

Tony sits at the dinner table in Avenger’s Tower. His team around him, all eating Chinese food from the place down the street, talking, laughing, bonding, and having a good time. He’s listening in on a conversation between Natasha and Clint, who is in on one of his occasional visits to the tower, about whether or not water has a scent when Jarvis’s voice cuts through the din.

“Excuse me, sir, you have a call waiting for you in your office, they say it’s urgent.”

The conversations fade away for a second while Jarvis speaks.

“Thanks, Jarvis, please tell them I’m on my way,” he paused and addressed the group, “I’ll be right back, try not to kill anyone or destroy anything while I’m gone, ok, children.”

He could hear the uproar from the rest of the group outside the kitchen and smirked to himself at his own joke. As Tony walked into the elevator he ran through a mental checklist of what the call could be about: could Rhodey be calling to check in? Unlikely as they had spoken the day before. Fury calling to ask about the team? Equally unlikely after the events that led to the fall of S.H.E.I.L.D just a few months ago. A business meeting he had forgotten about? Impossible, he had Jarvis take note of all of those the moment they were made. With the ding and lurch of an elevator reaching its destination, Tony steps into his office and decides he’s utterly stumped.

“Jarvis, patch me through to the caller please?”

“Done, sir.”

“Hello, this is Tony Stark, who am I speaking with.”

“Hello, Mr. Stark. This is Joshua Jones with Child Protective Services, I’m calling to inform you that your daughter has been removed from her mother’s custody, and, as you are her closest and only living relative, we are obligated to contact you about your daughter’s future living conditions.”

Tony is silent for a moment, contemplating what this man just told him, “I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong number.”

“You did say you’re Tony Stark, did you not?”

“I did, but I don’t have a daughter.”

“She seemed to think it was unlikely as well, but that’s what it says on the girl’s birth certificate.”

“Look, is this some kind of sick joke?”

“Sir, I can assure you I am serious.”

“What’s her name?” Tony says, in a soft, curious tone, after all, if he did have a daughter he knew exactly what he was going to do.

“Y/N Y/L/N”

“Oh,” says Tony, he does remember your mother after all. Of course, he will still need to run a DNA test, but damn it, he might have a daughter. He tries to form a coherent sentence over the commotion of thoughts in his head, but all he can muster is a confused, and yet slightly excited “huh.”

[iminlovewith-rogers-car]

"Don't Tell Roger" (Maylor fic)

Part 2/?

AO3   PART 1  -   PART 3  -  PART 4

CHAPTER 2: DOES HE KNOW?

“Children will you shut up? My head is killing me” Freddie said while rubbing his forehead

“Yeah, I wonder why that is” Brian joked

“I’m sorry I’m late!” John shouted as he ran through the door

“Shhh!” Freddie was in a terrible mood, he left the room and went to get some painkillers

“What the hell is his problem?” John asked, weirded out

“Hungover” Brian said in a monotone voice

“Oh right, yeah I feel shitty too but I’m not acting like a little a prick” John replied rolling his eyes “Rog are you alright? Hungover too?”

“Hu? Oh no… I’m fine” Roger had been staring at the floor for some while now thinking about what Freddie said last night, he was probably taking Brian’s words out of context or something… But what if he wasn’t, did Brian like him back?

“Hey Rog, you’ve been acting really weird lately, are you sure you’re okay? John asked softly as he got closer to Roger

“Oh I’m okay Deaky, really, I just have a lot on my mind but it’s fine”

“Wanna talk about it?” John insisted, he’s a really good friend and is just trying to be there for his buddy

“Oh it’s not important, but I’m okay! I promise” It is actually quite important, but Roger would never even consider going anywhere near this topic.

“Okay boys let’s get started...” Freddie walked back into the room, making an effort to leave his hungover behind

~~~~~

The next week Queen was having a concert in Liverpool, Roger was acting like himself again, not letting his crush get in the way of the rehearsals, nor of his usual interaction with his friends.

The boys got to their hotel the day before the show, they were given a big sort of suite, that looked more like a flat with four separate bedrooms, each room has a bathroom, so the guys' privacy was nearly perfect, except for the fact that the walls were somewhat thin, but they could live with that.

In one side of the suite was Brian's room next to Roger's room, in the middle there was a very nice living room with a TV and in the other side there was Freddie's room and John's room, John had insisted on getting the room next to Brian’s because he’s not as noisy as Roger and Freddie, but Freddie didnt want to give up the view and Roger didn’t want to switch rooms with John for reasons he did not disclose, and ended up saying he wanted the view too. John was slightly upset and didn’t understand why Roger couldn’t just take him room as he had done many times before, but he just accepted that he had to bear with Freddie’s loudness for three nights, it wasn’t much, he would manage.

~~~~

After the show the boys were going for a night out, but first they needed a moment to freshen up and change their sweaty clothes.

“Hey dear, how are you doing?” Freddie said as he slowly entered John's room

“Good, just getting ready" John replied cheerfully

“Yeah I can see that! Looking good mate” Freddie smiled at John "I'll try not to get as drunk as last time" he continued

"That'd be nice" John said with a sassy smile

"Yeah I'm guessing you aren't looking forward to get me to bed again"

"Hu?" John gave Freddie a confused look, was he trying to make a sex joke?

"You know, when you drove me home and I was too fucked up to get to my own bed and you helped me walk there...?" Freddie continued in a sassy voice, wasn't it obvious what he was talking about? They were both there.

"Oh you certainly were too fucked up, since you don't remember it was actually Roger who took you home"

"Oh? I must have forgotten then!" Freddie replied, he was a bit confused, but if Deaky says it was Roger he must be right. But, wait... Didn't he mention...

"Ready?" Brian entered John's room followed by Roger "Sure! Let's go!" Freddie answered

They drove to the club they choose, Roger and John got there in Roger's car, since they wanted to get some cigarettes first. Brian and Freddie got to the club first in Brian's car, they got drinks for themselves and ordered two for their friends.

Once they were all there they danced for hours. Freddie was serious when he said he wouldn't get too drunk that night, he doesn't really like to get that hammered when they're out of town for a show. Roger on the other hand couldn't care less about where he is when he's partying, and tonight is no exception, he gets as wild as usual. Brian and John were up for some fun but they weren't really planning on going as crazy as Roger.

Brian was having a good time, and he was delighted seeing Roger move his body deliciously as he danced, he was certainly tuned on by this, Roger's cheeks were red from all the dancing, his long blonde hair was messy and slightly sweaty, and the blue shade of his eyes made it obvious that his pupils were dilated... Did Roger look like this during sex? Brian wondered and felt his member press against his jeans. He shook his head, as if this movement would shake off the thought, and he took another shot of vodka.

After a while Freddie noticed he was getting a little too tipsy, but he had a solution for that, he knew cocaine had this effect, it helped everyone sober up, no matter how drunk they were, it was always a solution if they had to drive or get on stage, or something. He got a tiny bag out of his jacket, took a bit of the white dust out and placed it on the table in front of him, he shaped the line and snorted it, he poked Rog's chest with his elbow and showed him another line he had prepared for him. Roger grinned and leaned forward to the table, he snorted the dose of cocaine and moaned a little, it felt so good.

Brian had used drugs on a few occasions, just like John, and of course he had used cocaine to sober up if it was an "emergency", but he's more fond of alcohol when he's partying, but he secretly liked watching Rog get his hit, even if he wouldn't encourage him to get high, he couldn't help but stare as Roger's nose wrinkled a bit, how hard he closed his eyes for a second, only to open them up again with enormous pupils, making his already big eyes look even bigger; right now he could notice Roger started breathing faster, and Bri found that quite arousing.

~~~~~

It was 2:30 am when Brian and Freddie decided to leave, they were exhausted and relatively sober. They started looking around for their friends, as usual. After ten minutes they found John dancing with a crowd of strangers. "Deaky we're going back to hotel, wanna come with us or would you rather stay" Brian asked gently pulling John to the side. "I'll come with you" John answered and left the crowd. "Hey Deaky, where's Roger?" Freddie asked with a concerned look, last time he saw Roger he was drinking more vodka and snorting more cocaine; and considering Rog's history of dangerous behavior, it was very worrying to have him out of sight, they looked for him all over the club and finally found him with a group of young men and women, taking shots as if it was water and dancing, his shirt was totally unbuttoned by now.

"Hey Rog! Rog!" Brian tried to be heard over the loud music "Fuck... Roger!" Freddie yelled, he finally heard them. "Oh hey! Come here! Join me!" he replied "Oh, we're actually going back to the hotel darling, come on let's go"

Freddie knew it wasn't wise to give Roger the option to stay there without supervision but of course he didn't want to leave "No! Guys go, I'll get there in a while" he insisted "Roggie, darling, I think it's best if you come with us" Freddie tried once more. "I'll be good I promise, I'll get there later".

Roger wasn't going anywhere and the rest of the guys knew it, but well, he's surrounded by people, besides he's not that drunk "Fine, we'll see you later, take care" Freddie smiled as he just gave up trying to argue with the most stubborn member of the group.

Roger kept partying, and as he was absolutely drunk he came up with a plan, he figured maybe Brian was jealous in the way Fred suggested, and if that was true maybe Roger could make him jealous once more to get Brian to maybe act on it and come forward telling Roger about his feelings.

It's not a great plan, it's not even a good plan, quite terrible actually, and kind of a dick move, but again, Roger is drunk, and he's desperate for some sign that Brian likes him back. He knows it's childish and it probably won't work but he might as well just try.

~~~~~

3:30 am

"Okay... So John didn't take me home that night... It was Rog" Freddie kept thinking to himself once he was in bed, he had been trying to get back his memories of that night, and he sure remembered telling John something about Brian and Roger... But it wasn't John... "Well yes, maybe l mentioned them but that doesn't mean I screwed up, I could've said just about anything" he tried to comfort himself, but he was certain he did screw up "besides Roger would've talked about that with me if I had revealed Brian's secret, or at least he would've behaved differently right?" He couldn't remember any sign from Roger that implied he knew. "Okay maybe I can talk to Roger, I wouldn't ask him directly of course, but maybe just... A casual conversation about that night, just to make sure I didn't say anything inappropriate" Freddie got out of bed and walked towards Roger's room, he knew Rog was probably awake anyways and he just couldn't stand this terrible doubt anymore.

He walked into the living room and he saw Brian standing there, with a sad look in his eyes, before Freddie could ask what was wrong he figured it out. He heard Roger loudly shagging someone in his room, both him and the girl were audibly moaning and the bed was making a lot of noise.

"Oh darling..." Freddie could see just how upset Brian was, his sad expression turned into frustration as he threw himself to Freddie's arms for a hug "oh Bri, wanna sleep in my room? I can sleep in yours. You won't hear this from there... I'll stay with you for a while if you want" Brian nodded "Alright, let's go" Freddie walked with Brian while still hugging him, Freddie knew he couldn't be mad at Roger, he's a single man, and him and Brian aren't together... He doesn't know this hurts Bri, how would he?

Freddie was right, Roger didn't know, that was not what he expected. He thought maybe the loud sex world turn Brian on and make him tell Roger that he wants him, or maybe he'd just get jealous and tell Roger he has a crush on him... He didn't really consider the possibility of this hurting Brian, he wouldn't have done any of this if he thought it could go this way.

"Bri, I realize this is a terrible moment but... I think I have to tell you something" Freddie said, almost whispering; if his voice was any quieter he wouldn't even hear himself.

Freddie was in his bed, lying on his back, hugging a pillow over his chest.

Brian was on the little sofa on Freddie's room, also on his back, his arms crossed over his face.

"Is something wrong?" Brian muffled through his arms, he was slightly worried about his friend's comment, but not enough to change his position.

"Don't be mad... I mean yes, you will mad... You can hit me once, if that makes it better" Freddie remember that time he hit Kash while playing and offered her to hit him back if she swore to not tell on him

"Fred..." Brian was sitting by now, leaning towards Freddie's bed, he was actually worried now

"Okay, so, remember last week, we went out, got drunk, all that" Freddie continued slowly

"Of course" Brian was getting impatient

"Well, it was Roger who brought me home and..."

"Did something happen between you two?" Brian could feel his heart beating fast and his stomach hurt

"Oh good lord, Brian no! Of course not" Freddie responded louder and faster this time, as he shook his head. "No, the thing is, I think I told him you like him Bri... I'm not sure, I could be wrong, of course..." Brian was pale, but he wasn't freaking out, as Freddie expected, he was silent "Bri?... Brian will you say something? Please... I'm sorry... Bri? Do you want to hit me? Do something for the love of God"

Brian wasn't angry, just embarrassed, and at the same time he was trying to make sense out of Roger's actions "He doesn't seem mad at me for liking him, and he hasn't been acting any different around me, maybe tonight Rog is just trying to hint me, about him liking girls, maybe he's to kind to say it to my face but wants to make it clear, it's never gonna happen between us"

"Bri..." Freddie's soft voice got Brian out of his overthinking trance "I'm really sorry, do you hate me?" Freddie's voice almost let Brian know he was desperate for an answer

"Oh Fred of course not, how could I ever hate you?, But I do need to ask, has Roger talked to you about it?" Freddie shook his head "Alright... Well, I'll just go on with life, I mean, if he knows and he chooses to shag some girl right in front of us all, that probably means he doesn't like me back, and is probably trying to let me know..." As Brian said that out loud he felt his heart breaking a little, a single tear rolled down his cheek "I'll just be my usual self around him, but I have to forget about that silly idea of Rog and I being together"

Freddie hated seeing Brian like this, if he was absolutely mad, or even crying over Roger, Freddie would know what to do, but right now he was lost for words. After a few minutes he managed to say something "Rog was drunk too, maybe he doesn't remember" he thought this possibility could make this better but by now Brian was convinced Roger didn't like him.

~~~~

Roger was lying in bed, he didn't really enjoy it; sure, the girl was hot and all, but he could only think of how different would it be with Brian... Kissing him, tangling his fingers on those adorable black curls, kissing and worshiping his entire body, and finally cuddling him and falling asleep holding his hand.

He wasn't gonna be rude to this girl, but he hoped she would leave soon, he just didn't want to be around her, he wanted to be with Brian. "This whole thing is stupid, I should've just told him I like him, this is ridiculous" he kept thinking

~~~~

The next morning the boys were having breakfast on the small living room, they had some coffee and doughnuts.

Roger walked out of his bedroom, the girl had left before anyone could see her, thank God.

"Good morning darling" Freddie greeted him, he was still a little confused about the entire Roger and Brian situation, but decided to just step back

"Fun night?" John continued, smirking at Roger, who just shrugged.

"Good morning boys" Roger said in a low voice as he sat down next to Brian "Good morning Bri" Rog was being really shy and careful. Brian just gave him an awkward smile.

As Brian was overthinking last night, he thought he could fix this whole thing, he just had to convince Roger he didn't actually like him, and that maybe, Freddie was just too drunk to make sense, and to achieve this he had to be his usual self, keep everything normal... Problem was, Brian isn't a good actor, so he just ended up being really awkward, and that smile made it clear.

"Hello, I uhm, I gotta go" Brian said and he stormed into his room.

The rest of the day was like that, if Roger was around Brian left. If Roger wasn't around, Brian would appear out of nowhere.

Everyone noticed, and everyone had a theory about it: John assumed they had some argument about a song or a music video or something, and they'd be back to normal soon.

Freddie thought Brian was mad at everyone and specially Roger, for having sex right there, even knowing about Brian's feelings, although Freddie wasn't so sure about Roger's version, so he choose not to judge.

Roger was mortified, had he fucked things up? Had his "ridiculous" plan worked and this was Brian being jealous? What if Brian never liked him to begin with?... He hoped they could have just talked about their feelings for each other, but now he just had to deal with it, and see where this goes.

~~~~

The boys were back home and Brian was still avoiding Roger, he would barely talk to him during rehearsals, left the studio as soon as they were over, and declined every invitation to go out with them.

Rog was getting too anxious about Brian's behaviour and he needed to know which one of the terrible scenarios he had created on his mind was correct, so he decided to ask Freddie if he knew what exactly was going on. He approached Freddie after a rehearsal, after Brian had obviously stormed out, as usual, and John too had left. Rog pretended to be doing something, awkwardly walking around the studio as he waited for the opportunity, and hoping John would leave before Freddie did. When it was finally a good time, Rog slowly walked up to Freddie.

"Hello Freddie" Rog poked his friend's arm and tried to give him the sweetest, most innocent smile.

"Hello dear" Freddie was a little weirded out by his friend's weird behaviour, "what does he mean hello? We've been together for hours now" he thought to himself

"What are you doing?" Roger continued, trying to figure out exactly what he should say

"Getting my coat?" Freddie smiled back at Roger

"Good, good"

"Okay, good-bye darling, see you tomorrow" Freddie got to the door

"No wait, uhm I want to ask you something. Uhm... Do you know what's going on with Brian?

Freddie sighed "Oh, Rog... That's really not something I should be talking about" He said as he slowly shook his head with a sad look.

"Freddie please"

"Darling why don't you ask him directly?"

"No, I can't, please just tell me"

"Rog... No, I'm sorry, I can't"

"Freddie" Roger was practically begging by now

"I can't, sorry love" Freddie walked towards the exit

"I... I think I love him, Fred" Roger said as soon as Freddie started walking

"What?" Freddie turned around again to face Roger

[lokis-little-kitten]

The Girl From 2505 (4)

Title: The Girl From 2505 Writer: Lokis-Little-Kitten Pairing: Robert Laing x Reader Wordcount: 2996 Rating: 16/18+(Depends on country) Warning: Abuse, language, drug overdose. This piece is especially dark so please read with caution. Summary: You and Robert are in a relationship but you want to break up. When you do he kidnapped you and keeps you in his apartment only heaving you out for supervised parties where he shows you as some sort of price. When High-Rise falls, however, people want that price

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Masterlist, Story’s I Love.

When you are rendered to sleep Robert goes down to find that scumbag. Laurens,  he thought his name was. He is soon to find him still in the lobby. ''You,'' he shouts loudly. He turns around and smiles.

''Hey man. Sorry about your woman but a girl needs the best-'' Before he can even finish his sentense Robert punches him in the face. Soon after Laurens gets another blow to his jaw, chin and stomach.

''Whoa, Laing cal down,'' another man calls out while grabbing Robert together with another man. Robert fights back but doesn't come loose. ''He raped her,'' he shouts loudly. ''He beat her up, then raped her and left her tied up!'' The man look at Laurens.

''Is that treu?'' ''She struggled a little in the beginning...'' ''She could have died,'' Robert shouts as he keeps fighting. His face is getting red in anger. ''She can't even stand because of you and nearly had a panic attack when I touched her arm.''

The man look at each other in disgust. Weird and simply bad things had been happening but this goes too far. They let Laing go who flies off to Laurens. He slams him to the ground and starts sits down on him beating his face until there is more read than skin. He also gives him some firm hits in the stomach until he is pulled off of him again afraid he might kill the man.

''If I ever even see you on my floor again you won't come off this easily,'' Laing hisses walking away from him but pointing his finger. He quickly goes back up to you and luckily finds you still asleep.

He puts some of the Diazepam in a drink and puts it next to the still bloody bed. He decides to pick you up and lays you on some pillows on the floor. The last doses had knocked you out enough for you to not wake up.

He cleans off the bed completely and puts new sheets on it. He then wraps you in your favourite blanket and sits down with you sleeping in his arms. Later in the evening, you wake up still in his arms.

You are first a little startled but when you find where you are you settle down again. He kisses your forehead and slightly rocks you before giving you your drink. You slowly drink it and you then watch telly with Robert in bed.

The next day Robert checks all of you injuries and gives you another painkiller and half a Diazapam. He did not tell you what it was since you sometimes resisted against that kind of medicine in the past.

Diazapam has a calming effect and relaxes the muscels. It does make you rather fuzzy. It is often used when sleeplesness, epelepsy and anxiety. Right now you defianatly qualify for anxiety and sleeplesness.

You have a history with being sleepless so he had given it to you in the past always telling you it was painkillers since it was often paired with headaches.

Like he promised the next day he got you a few pairs of trousers and gave you some of his jumpers. He mostly sat in bed you with besides the little trip and made sure you are okay.

The next day he makes sure you are good enough to go out. In town, he has to admit you are a lot more energetic and calm than in the building. He, however, is extremely anxious.

He brings you to a hairdresser first and sits there the whole time watching you get a haircut. You completely change your hairstyle as you feel like you should right now. Your whole life turned upside down and so just want to do the same with your hair.

When this is done Rob takes you to a store where he buys five locks for you. Two for the front door, two for the bedroom and one for the bathroom. He did it to make you feel safe even though one on the front door would probably do just fine.

These are the kind of locks that are on the door and on the wall and have to slide into each other to lock it. He also buys locks so you can't slide them open. Everything for your safety.

At home, he immediately puts the locks on the doors so you are a bit calmer. He closes them right away but warns you not to abuse them by locking him out. From that moment on you slowly start to settle down again.

You don't go out ever again even though the doctor did ask if you wanted to fo drink coffee at one of his friends. You always refused to afraid for the other residends.

Robert did return to work after the week he promised to stay home for the week. You did not really mind it though you missed the company. During the time he was gone you often took some of the painkillers he hid in one of the cabins. The wounds heal very slowly. you are tired all the time but your body focusses the healing proces on everything down there. Robert told you not to worry about it and that everything will go away.

The rest of the day you looked outside, draw, wrote or went through Robert his closet playing dress up. You also just lay in bed a lot watching telly or sometimes just laying in the bed and staring at the wall.

A few weeks later you try to get something from a cabinet but fall right on one of the bruices. It hurts like absolute hell and soon you start to cry laying on the ground. You think about calling Robert for a moment but first, want to try painkillers.

You take the bottle and read the label. Maximume doses for adult: 2 and a half per 4 hours. You shrug and take the two and a half pills on some water. You haven't eaten yet so it comes down a bit rough but you soon feel alright again.

The bruice still hurts very badly though you decide to call Robert anyway. When he picks up he seems surprised and worried to hear your voice. ''Hey, are you okay,'' he asks you worriedly.

''Sort of... I fell on my hip with the large bruise. It really hurts and I can barely move my leg,'' you explain sitting against the kitchen island. ''I'll be on my way. Wait there, okay?'' ''Yes of cours.'' You hang up and drink some more water trying to stay calm.

You get up and take the bottle of pills to go and put them back when you suddenly feel extremely light headed. The whole room starts to turn and you can't even see straight anymore. You feel yourself drop to the floor but by then you are already passed out.

Half an hour later Robert walks in calmly knowingly nothing too bad can be happening but he wants to be there for you. When he finds you ont the floor, however, his heart stops. He drops his bag and kneels down next to you.

''Y/N, hello can you hear me?'' He quickly checks your heartbeat. It is weak but is there. He holds his ear next to your face and finds you still breathing but also weakly. He looks around and finds the pills on the floor. He quickly grabs them and finds it is the Diazapam.

''Damn it!'' He runs to his medicine box and quickly throws the painkillers on the floor. He puts the Diazapam in the right bottle again and runs back to you. He puts the pills in his pocket and picks you up. He has no choice... he needs to bring you to the hospital before you die.

He picks you up grabs his car keys and runs to the elevator. It doesn't work. ''No,'' he shouts angrily, ''not now!'' Fear rushes through his body as he holds you unconsious body in his arm. He runs towards the stairs and runs down faster than ever.

When he arrives in the lobby two girls run up to him worriedly. ''What happened,'' one of them asks knowing about the rape. ''Drug overdose. Get the door for me,'' he commands. Quicklu they hold open the door and let him out of the building.

He is quick to finds his car. He lays you in the bag of the car in a position you can't choke on vomit and your head is supported. He drives quickly and soon arrives at the hospital. He runs out with you in his arms and alerds the nurses.

They call for a stretcher that comes in soon. One of the nurses holds him back though he knows he cannot be with her. ''Here. She has an overdose of Diazapam. Get that to the doctor,'' Robert says placing the pills in the nurse her hands. ''Thank you, doctor Laing, unfortunatly you just have to wait now.'' ''Yes... I know. If they need me I will be in my office.''

He quickly goes to his office and sits down in the chair. He slams his fist on the table. How did she even get those pills? He hid them away from her, he thought! The whole time he has to wait he just think about you never waking up or being damaged.

A knock on the door is heard and doctor Jones comes in. The large man sits down in front of Laing and sighs deeply. ''Well,'' Robert asks worriedly. ''She is awake.'' He sighs deeply. ''Any damage?'' ''No, not necesarily...'' Robert frowns.

If everything is fine why does this man have a frown on his face as if she died? ''Laing, she had a serious drug addiction and is full of bruises. Why did you not report anything? Did you even know she was on those pills.'' He runs a hand through his hair.

This is all his fault. ''A few weeks ago she was sexualy asaulted. I gave her some of it to sooth her anxiety. Never more than one and a half, but mostly just one pill, spread over the day. I had no idea she abused it in my absense.'' Doctor Jones nods a little.

''I understand. You do understand that it is extremely importand she goes off these things for quite a long period of time.'' ''Yes. Of course! I will make sure she can't get those things ever again.'' Doctor Jones shrugs a little. ''If it helped with her anxiety I can see she has after such an occurance I understand you want might to put her on them again but under very strict regolations.'' Robert nods. That was not what he meant.

He meant that because he was not honest about what he gave you you almost died today. He will make sure you will never be able to accidentally take overdoses again.

''You are allowed to see her... if you want?'' Laing looks up like a lost puppy from his desk he had been focusing on. ''Yes, please.'' Jones stands up and walks out with Robert on his tai.

When he is in the hallway he finds you laying on your side. Your back his towards him but he can see your arms are wrapped around your stomach and you are crying.

''There is something else, Laing,'' Jones starts with the same face he had before. Robert looks afraid at him. What is going on you are so upset. ''She ehm... she was pregnant. However, the infant died at only a few weeks because of the drugs.''

Robert grabs his hair and bites his lip. Tears gather in his eyes and he crouches down. No, this can't be treu! He basically murdered a child. An innocent small child. He pushes his fist against his mouth not to let out a sob.

''Did you take it away?'' Jones looks at the ground and then nods. ''Yes... It was the safest thing at the moment.'' Robert nods and stands up. ''Can I go in?'' Jones nods and lets him.

When Robert walks in he tries to be as collected as possible but when he sees your crying face he can barely contain himself. He kneels down at you and runs a hand through your hair.

''I'm so sorry,'' he says as he starts to cry. He lays his forehead against your and simply cries with you. Everything has fallen apart all because he couldn't contain himself.

You look him in the eyes and clamb your arms around your belly. ''They took it away,'' you cry. ''I'm so sorry,'' Robert cries running his hand through your hair. ''I am so sorry! Did you... Did you know?'' You shake your head. ''Not until they told me...'' Another heavy sob leaves your mouth.

''When are we going home,'' you ask him. His hand clenches your hair tightly and shakes his head. ''No... You are not coming back with me. The only thing I do is hurt you. I can't do this to you anymore.'' He stands up and walks out of the room.

You try to stop him grab his hand call him back but he made up his mind. He ignores your cries telling himself you will realise this is better for you. He is surprised you even call out for him. He abducted you and you have told him multiple times you hate it. You are just vulnerable now... that must be it. 

You watch him leave and then just stare out of the window. How could he just leave you like this? Why would he do such a thing? He promised to care for you...

Robert too is in pure devastation. He loves you more than anything and promised to take care of you. So that is what he is doing now. He cuts himself out of your life. The only thing he has done is hurt you.

Look where you are! In a hospital bed, raped, anxious, almost dead! All because of him... No... He can't do this to you. He goes back to the building and finds the two girls still waiting in the lobby after all those hours he was away.

''What happened,'' the first girl asks. ''Is she coming back,'' the second one adds. ''No, she ehm... She had a drug overdose and a miscarriage because of it. She is not coming back to this damned tower!'' He ties the elevator that works by now and goes back to his flat. There he crashes down and simply loses it.

Soon after the high-rise falls and with that Robert, his last bit of sanity goes to waist. He never really got over what happened to you. He never completely forgave himself. He never loved anyone else ever again. He just did not trust himself with anyone.

You also never completely recovered. Your miscarriage made you afraid of pregnancy as a whole and the abuse kept you away from any type of relationship. You went back on Diazepam but a proper dose this time and never really got off it.

Robert himself also started taking the pills to fall asleep at night also not getting off of them. He even tried to overdose in the early days from the guilt he felt.

It all seemed to be over until three years later. A letter arrived in his mailbox. He had long moved from the tower towards London. The letter was signed with a name he never thought he'd see again. Yours.

Part 5

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[mira-eyeteeth]

Patchwork, Part 2

More of this! Last chapter is here. Crossposted from AO3.

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

Jon got home, took several more over-the-counter painkillers than was recommended on the bottle, and attempted to sleep. What little sleep he got was interrupted by nightmares, and every time he woke up gasping, wounds burning, certain that the ECDC had missed one, that the CO2 had failed, that there was still a worm burrowing its way inside him to lay its filthy eggs and devour him from the inside...

Every time he lurched out of bed, turned on the lights, and spent twenty minutes examining every inch of his skin.

Then, in an attempt at seeming at least partly rational and productive in his hourly bouts of night terrors, he would re-apply antiseptic ointment to his wounds. By the time he had gone through half of the tube, he had to admit that he would probably need to buy another one, and that he was utterly failing at any semblance of rationality.

Still, he attempted to sleep for several agonizing hours, until the sun started to peek over the horizon. Then, with no small amount of relief, he snatched up his phone and dialed.

One ring. Two. Then the call was picked up.

“Is there any-” Jon started.

“No, Jon. There have been no new developments. Go back to sleep,” Elias said, flatly. “And don’t think about coming in today. You’re on leave.”

Jon clenched his teeth and ended the call before he said something unprofessional.

Fine. Fine.

He would just have to go when no one would be there to give him idiotic orders.

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

Jon stole into the tunnels with a heavy-duty torch, a tape recorder, and several more doses of painkillers. They’d put up plasterboard over the holes already, but the trap door hadn’t been secured yet.

He had thought his initial impressions of the tunnels had been affected by the CO2 and the terror. But the tunnels were just as impossible to navigate and as maddeningly bizarre as he had remembered. He was half-lost and disorientated within minutes. He didn’t even know where to start. At least the worms were gone, cleaned away, though as he progressed further he found the point where the cleaners decided to stop. The carcasses remained still when he crossed the boundary, though he held his breath in trepidation anyway.

A flicker of movement at the corner of his eye had him whirling around, heart hammering.

It was only a spindly little long-legged spider, picking its way daintily between the worms and heading down one branching tunnel, away from Jon.

Every instinct told Jon that he should be going in the opposite direction of that thing.

But if he wanted to find Martin…

Jon took a deep breath and proceeded slowly down the hallway, taking care to inspect the whole of the corridor in long, arching sweeps of his torch. The only cobwebs were a handful of normal-sized things, spun in the far corners between the wall and the ceiling. No giant, shining web laid in wait for him.

Jon reached a bend in the tunnel and peered around it, cautiously. Clear as well, at least until he began down the hall and the light of the torch fell on a figure huddled off to the side of the hallway. Several small, dark things skittered off of the person and away from the light, and Jon took a hurried step backwards. Martin’s head jerked up, and Jon could have sworn that Martin’s eyes reflected the light from the torch. Or maybe it had just been his glasses.

“Hello?” Martin asked, blinking and shading his eyes from the sudden influx of light. “Who's-- Jon? You're alive?” Martin suddenly shot to his feet; more tiny creatures fell off of him.

Jon took several more hurried steps backwards, belatedly realizing that he did not bring any sort of weapon along. Could he even find his way back quickly, if he had to run?

Martin didn't move, though. He just stood there, staring at Jon. Jon tried very hard not to think that he was staring hungrily.

“You're alive,” Martin repeated. “ God, Jon, I thought…” His gaze trailed down to Jon's bandages, then snapped back up to Jon's face. “You're hurt. Why are you down here? You're hurt! Is- Is Elias making you work? He can't expect you to work in your condition. You should be at home, resting. I'll- I'll go tell Elias that you need more time to recover, and you--”

“Martin!” Jon snapped, cutting him off. He certainly seemed like the same Martin as always, at least. “Elias didn't tell me to go down here. He doesn't know I'm here at all. It's the middle of the night.”

Martin blinked. “You came down here without telling anyone where you were going? Alone? In the middle of the night?!”

“It's not like it's any brighter down here in the daytime,” Jon muttered.

“That's not the point! You can't do things like this, Jon! It's not safe! Why are you even here?”

“I was looking for you!”

That seemed to take some of the wind out of Martin's sails. “What? Why?”

“Because you didn't come out. I didn't know what happened to you, and I'm sick of mysteries.”

“... oh. So, if I give you my statement, will you go home and rest?”

“Yes, okay, fine.”

“For at least a week?”

“Martin…”

“At least a week,” Martin repeated, stubbornly.

“... fine. A week. I promise. Are you happy now?”

“Yes. Thank you. I… Do you want to sit down, first? You look… pretty bad. We- um-” Martin suddenly seemed to realize that they were in a desolate underground tunnel and there were no chairs at hand. “We could go back to the Archive?”

“Do you even know how to get back?”

“Well, I mean… no.”

Which meant that to get to the Archive, Jon would have to lead him back. And he looked like Martin. He acted like Martin. But Jon still didn’t want to turn his back on whatever Martin may have become. “Here is fine.”

“Are- are you sure? You-”

“It's fine, Martin, and the longer you take to give your statement, the longer I am kept away from home and my solemnly-sworn rest.”

“...Yeah, okay,” Martin relented. His eyes trailed down to the tape recorder Jon held in his hand, which was already recording. Jon suspect that it had turned on when he first came across Martin. “Um, Statement of Martin Blackwood, Archival- former Archival- current, current Archival Assistant of the Magnus Institute, regarding the attack on the Institute by the entity formerly known as Jane Prentiss. Statement begins. I was looking up the background of case… er, 0081709, I think, and then I heard you and Sasha screaming and-”

“We have up to the point where you were separated from us already on tape.”

“Right. ...I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving you behind. I didn’t mean to, it was an accident, but the worms came and I just ran and I thought you were behind me but I left you and Tim-- oh, god, Tim. Did Tim survive?”

“Tim is fine Sasha, too. And Elias. As far as I know, the only things that died were Prentiss and the worms.”

“Good. That’s… that’s good. I thought… I thought I’d left you both to die. I tried to find you again, I swear, but I’d gotten so turned around in the tunnels, and shouting didn’t do any good at all, and I--”

“It’s fine, Martin.”

“Okay. Okay, sorry, I’m rambling. Anyway, I got lost in the tunnels. There’s no light at all down here, but I had my torch. Still do, actually. But we’ll get to that. I wandered for a while. It’s a, it’s a maze down here. I don’t know how far the passages go. Maybe miles. I think it must be the old Millbank Prison, like Tim was saying before. I even found some stairs at one point, but I really didn’t want to go down them. I hadn’t seen any worms for a few minutes, and weirdly enough that actually started to worry me, like, if there weren’t any worms then I’d gone too far from the Institute. And there was more dust in those corridors too, and dead rats, even some discarded wine bottles. At one point there was an empty packet of mint imperials--”

“Martin.”

“Sorry. Yeah. Um. I was trying to go back, not that I knew what back even meant down there, and that's when I heard the scream. You… you heard that too, right? It wasn’t just me?”

“I very much wish I hadn’t heard it,” Jon said dryly.

“Yeah, that sounds about right. Anyway, I didn’t know what it meant for sure until I started finding the worm corpses again. Then I knew that Jane Prentiss was dead. She is dead, isn't she?”

“...they told me she was. They said that they burned her body,” Jon replied.

“But you don’t believe them?”

“I didn’t see it. I can’t be sure.”

“Ah. ...Well, the worms were dead. And I started thinking how… how they had finally killed a monster. And how I’m… basically the same as Prentiss, aren’t I? I mean, not with the killing people thing, but in terms of being unnatural. And also I’m apparently in the final stages of infestation and that the ECDC would probably quarantine me forever or try to cut me open and I.. I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t leave the tunnels. So I… started looking for somewhere to hole up for a little while, at least. I mean, I have a torch, but the batteries don’t last forever and I planned on… turning it off and waiting in the dark, until it felt safer to leave. I would need light to be able to find my way out, when that happened, so I couldn’t just leave it on until it died.

“So at first, my plan was to find a little room to hole up in, you know? Something defensible, though heaven only knows what I planned to defend it with. Or from, for that matter. But you know, the way the tunnels feel. The worms are dead, but there’s still something… here.

“Anyway, initally I thought that was a good idea. But then, I started to feel like if, if I went into a room and turned off the light, that the doorway wouldn’t be there when I turned the light back on. I was just having that thought when I opened the door and found Gertrude’s corpse. She was murdered down here, Jon. I saw her. And after that, I figured I was probably better off just sitting in a hallway instead, so I did that, and I moved away from the sounds that were, I think, nearer to the Archive when I had to. The spiders started--”

“Wait. Gertrude was murdered down here?” Jon said sharply.

“Yes. She… she was shot. Three times in the chest, that I could see. She was in this little square room, no worms, no cobwebs, just her and boxes and boxes of tapes.”

“Tapes?”

“Yes, there must have been dozens, if not hundreds, of them. Still are, I suppose. I should have told the police, I know, but, the whole ‘probably being locked away forever’ thing made me afraid to go out to try to find them. I mean, they know about the whole Prentiss… thing, and they would probably make me get checked for holes and then…”

“You need to take me there.”

“What?”

“To the room where Gertrude is. I need to listen to those tapes.”

“Have you been listening to me? It’s a crime scene, Jon. We can’t just--”

“Yes, it is a crime scene, and if the police find out about it then they will take everything away and I will never be able to access them. We can’t let that happen.”

“That’s not--”

“Martin!”

Martin did not cringe and comply with the shouted demand. He straightened his back, lifted his chin, and stared at Jon levelly. “I gave you my statement. You promised that you would go home and rest.”

“This is more important than that.”

“You’re already bleeding through some of your bandages, Jon. You need to stop.”

“No, what I need to do is figure out this bloody mystery before--”

“ Go home, Jon. ”

The next thing Jon knew, he was standing in the foyer of his apartment, his hand resting on the still-open front door.

A voice was babbling on next to him. “Oh god, oh god, I’m so sorry Jon, please snap out of it, please, I’m sorry. Jon. Jon, please, I don’t know what I did, I didn’t mean to do it, please snap out of it--”

“Martin?” Jon turned his head to see that, yes, it was Martin was hovering behind his left shoulder, looking frantic.

Martin inhaled sharply. “Jon? Is that you?”

“Who else would it be? What the hell are you doing here? What… what am I doing here?”

“I don’t know.  I just… I told you to go home and it’s like you… shut off. You turned around and marched off without saying anything. I didn’t even know where you were going.  I thought you were going to try to find Gertrude on your own. You didn’t say anything. I followed you, because I was worried. Then I got really worried when I told you that that wasn’t the right direction to find Gertrude and you didn’t even react. You went right out of the tunnels, didn’t even close the trap door behind you- I did, don’t worry- and then out into the night.Then you took a late-night bus and we ended up here. You just left your tape recorder on the bus when you got out of your seat, like it didn’t matter. I couldn’t get you to respond to anything I said, the whole way here, until now. ...I guess this must be your home.”

“You controlled my mind,” Jon said, only half a question

Martin winced. “I... think so? I’m really, really sorry. I swear, I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t know I could do it. I would have stopped it if I knew how. I’m sorry.”

Jon swallowed. He had memories of doing all those things that Martin described, but they were indistinct, like he was viewing them through smudged glass. Or through a veil of cobwebs. He remembered another time when his body moved without his own will behind it. Mr. Spider wants another guest for dinner… “Don’t ever do that again,” he finally said, as his hand started to tremble on the doorknob.

“I won’t. I’m really sorry. I… I brought your tape recorder, and torch. Do you want them back?”

“Yes, thank you,” Jon said, letting go of the door and turning around to take the items.

His hand stopped before it crossed the threshold of the apartment.

Jon stared down at his immobile hand. He tried the other one. The same- he couldn’t go out into the hallway. He couldn’t cross the threshold. It wasn’t like there was a wall- his muscles simply refused to continue any movements beyond the boundary.  “I think… I think I’m going to be stuck here for a week,” Jon remarked, more calmly than he felt.

[interdimensionalrealitymachine]

entry 24 10-22-22

thursday night into friday: due to reasons outside my control, i got to bed extremely late and knew i wasn't gonna get a lot of sleep, so i didn't take med for nightmares, which in hindsight was a poor decision bc i probably would've at least fallen asleep faster if i did take it. slept like two hours at most, didn't dream but just slept v poorly until right before my alarm

friday: had a therapy appt where i talked a lot about my dad; this week mom showed me a pic of him she'd found online where he was with a woman and it had thrown off my whole mood. not so much bc he was with someone (since mom and i had already figured he had a secret girlfriend he didn't want us to know about), but bc it was the first time i'd seen his face in over a year. spent most of the rest of the day out with mom, by the time we got home and settled in i was exhausted and passed out dreamlessly on the couch for a few hours

friday into saturday: actually took pill before going to bed, but it didn't help

dreamed i had flown down to visit dad and the entire time i was trying to talk to him he kept taking phone calls. i could never hear who was on the other end but could tell they were friends and not work calls. every time he hung up i'd ask who it was and he wouldn't give me an answer. i started trying to ask about if he was dating anyone and he denied it, until i mentioned the pic mom showed me and he finally admitted it was "one in a series of girlfriends" or something. i think i tried to ask if that was why he wouldn't come back home but don't remember getting an answer

not sure if it was the same dream but i think he was also like, still going to meetings and keeping up appearances of being a jw while dating multiple worldly women and i was like "why are you doing this. you can just stop going to meetings. no one knows you here, none of your family lives here, just leave and get it over with"

woke up briefly in the early afternoon, realized i'd forgotten to take my antidepressant on friday and knew if i didn't take my next dose right then i was going to feel miserable later bc of it, but fell asleep again before i could force myself to sit up and take it

dreamed my parents had gotten married again and moved into a big house that had just been remodeled (but i apparently lived elsewhere?), and i was upstairs talking to mom while dad worked on something in another room downstairs. she said he recently had tried to strangle or smother her in her sleep, and when she'd told one of her sisters (D) about it, D had come over and tried to kill *him*

there was a short interlude where i was in the kitchen trying to make salad: i'd break up the lettuce and put it in a bowl and start rinsing it with water, then look away for a second, and when i'd looked back the water would be that dark chlorophyll green, almost black, and the lettuce would have shriveled up and mostly dissolved. this happened like two or three times

suddenly i'm back upstairs with mom and we smell gas and hear a faint clicking sound like a lighter, and we bolt thru the house screaming for dad bc he's about to blow the house up. we find him in a room claiming to be working on something unrelated but i don't believe him and don't trust him to be around mom alone. he says that he and i could go spend the weekend at his place instead and i agree to that, but wake up before i can question the fact that he has a second place apart from where he's supposed to be living with mom lmao

it was at least 6 or 7pm by the time i woke up and took my antidepressant. i slept so tensed up that my muscles are still aching now. as predicted, my head feels awful bc of the missed meds, and after i'd eaten i took some painkillers and curled up on the couch to wait it out. it's finally getting better now, but i feel so worn out and run down that i'm really hoping this isn't the beginnings of me getting the flu or something

[sockknitterporg]

I Was Adopted by Aliens: Part 6

Chapter Directory

I woke up to white-hot fire coming from every direction. Far away, I could hear distant clanging, as though my head was submerged in a vat of molasses while someone banged on the container. I tilted my head just a fraction and cried out from the deep, stabbing pain that shot through my neck and shoulder, as if someone were driving a pickaxe through the crook of my neck and down into my chest.

The door opened in response to my cry, and in came an alien I hadn't seen before. Not that I was in any state to greet them. It felt like the gravity had been doubled, my body was useless under its own weight. I was coated in sweat, but I felt so very cold.

My name, I think they said my name. I could only somewhat make out their words through the distortions in my senses. I wasn't sure if this one had four legs, or if I was seeing double.

A high pitched squeal stabbed through my head, making my vision go staticky as my head throbbed from the pain. I was vaguely aware that they were fishing in the cupboard that held my medications, then more aliens were trying to crowd into the room.

It's only a flare, I tried to tell them, but my mouth was only somewhat responding. I'm not sure if I said words or just groaned. They had a stretcher, and I was carefully rolled onto it. I don't think any of them could lift me, humans are much bulkier than they are, like a sumo wrestler stood next to a fashion model.

I don't remember much about the journey back to the medical centre, but it only took two of them to carry me with the stretcher. Was that right? I was brought to a bed among many others - not in the quarantine section? It took four of them to roll me off the stretcher and onto the bed.

One of them was handing over my medications to a doctor. I took a deep breath and tried to speak. Just one word, maybe I could get the right medication. "Morphine," I said, and forced my arm towards the basket of medicine. It was only somewhat under my control, and it felt like every muscle in my shoulder tore from the effort.

"Which one do you need?" the doctor asked, quickly trying to lay them out so I could indicate.

I had a faster idea. "Liquid." There was only one medication in liquid form. They found it immediately.

"How much do you need?"

I didn't know how to answer. If I could do it myself I'd get it right, but that was out of the question. "Small... Small spoon." I tried to push myself upright. "I've got to..." My breathing was hard from the effort. Why was I here again? I was the worst example of humanity, I couldn't even regulate my body temperature.

"This much?" the doctor suggested, while the one that had found me guided me to lay back down.

I looked at the measure. I had no idea. But I nodded anyway. "I've got to sit up to swallow..."

Spindly hands pulled me up despite the screaming protest coming from my back muscles. "But is it the right amount?" They didn't have the same body language.

"I think. Not sure. I can tell with my mouth." Did that make sense? Who knew. They gave me the medicine and helped me swallow it. I shuddered from the awful, sickly taste. "Half again," I murmured, and swallowed the second dose.

They lowered me back down, while the doctor took some notes and then checked a readout. They were trying to tell me something about the scans, but I wasn't understanding any of it. "What does this medication do in particular? It isn't treating anything that I can see."

"Painkiller," I answered. It wasn't instantly effective, I wasn't going to be helpful much for a while.

"I see. Which one do you take to reverse the -" I still wasn't following the science.

"Nothing? There's.... No treatment. No cure. Just take painkillers and sleep it off."

I could see rage on their face, but they went silent, head cocked. After a moment, "Patriarch wants to know where to find doctors for your condition on your planet." It figures they couldn't just cure me with their advanced technology, they barely understood my body.

"I...don't know. It's... Not very famous..." I was trying to say that it doesn't have a lot of funding dedicated to research, but it's hard to find words when your body is convinced every single bone is broken.

"Who is the greatest scientist on your planet?"

"I don't know." Most 'famous scientists' weren't medical doctors anyway.

"Your medical scans are very concerning compared to how they were when you arrived. We need to bring your condition back to stable. Can you tell me anything at all about how to help?"

"Blanket, pillows, heating pad, hot drink, sleep." I wasn't at my most eloquent. "Mostly sleep. Gonna sleep."

I rolled onto my side and drew my legs up, and tried to sleep. At least the morphine made it slightly easier, and I soon drifted off again.

I woke up no longer in the medical centre. I was laying on something warm, squishy, furry, and living. Hands were running through my hair, an alien face peering down at me.

At least I'm not the type to jump or scream upon waking to something surprising.

This alien had a face like all the others, but its body was huge and slug-like. Its arms were much fatter than the others of its kind, and along the back end of it there were multiple mucus-covered slits in its flesh that quivered and pulsed disgustingly. The alien continued fingercombing my hair, its hands were the same size as mine, making its fingers very short and fat compared to mine.

Around us were more of the four-legged type, workers maybe. And in a chair nearby, the Patriarch sat, or another of the same type as them.

"You wake up!" the large alien said. "Still feel bad?"

"I...feel a lot better," I said, though I was far from recovered.

"Yes! Mother helps. Mother makes better." It - she, I supposed, though that was going by a very human interpretation of sex - she petted my hair and down my arms, I felt very much like a cat in her lap.

"You're... Mother?"

"Yes! Mother makes everything better." She reached over to a shelf that was just within her reach, grabbing an amethyst geode which she set in my lap. "See Mother's shiny? It makes Mother happy after pain."

This alien was...not very smart. But I carefully picked up the geode and turned it over in my hands. It matched the wallpaper in my room, and covering the walls here. "It's very pretty, very shiny. Thank you." I offered it back, and she carefully returned it to her shelf. I wondered if she ever left this place, the rest of the ship wasn't built for her size.

"All better now?" She offered her hands to me.

"This is our display of affection," the Patriarch said quietly from behind me. "Run your hands down her arms and into her hands and wait for a moment before offering your hands out the same way. Mother won't understand that you are different from us, please don't hurt her feelings."

I did as instructed, leaving my hands in hers for about as long as a good hug, then returned the gesture and she petted my arms and held my hands. Obviously I didn't look like any of them, I doubted she thought I was one of her children. But I supposed she recognised that I was a person, and therefore assumed that all people were like her.

She let go after a moment, then nudged me upwards gently. I worried about getting to my feet from her 'lap', which was a fold of skin and fat about as thick as a futon. Not very high from the floor, so I was going to have a lot of difficulty getting up. As I struggled, she helped pull me to my feet, though it was obviously hard for her.

"Thank you," I said, then stepped towards the Patriarch. "I'm not sure why I'm here." I looked around. There were holes in the wall like honeycombs in here, and many of them, I realised, had children in them. Or maybe infants, I had no idea how these things grew. Also, I needed a word for what they were, instead of just 'things'.

"You were cold and in pain. We brought you here so that Mother could comfort you," the Patriarch explained. "I hope you feel a bit better."

I nodded. The flare was waning, the morphine was helping, and the Mother's lap was warm and soft like the best mattress. "I still need to rest, but I'm much better."

The Mother interrupted before the Patriarch could speak. "Baby coming!" Her insides shuddered, and then one of those gross slits widened and pushed out a newborn with four legs tucked under itself. It was large for a baby, almost as big as a three year old human. So the others in the honeycombs were infants still. Several of the nearby workers hurried over and scooped it up, then began to clean it as it was carried over to a honeycomb of its own.

The Patriarch continued easily. "So what happened to you? Your body seemed to be shutting down cell by cell." They began leading me towards a door as they spoke.

"That was a 'flare'," I answered, following along. "It happens sometimes. They're painful and frightening while they're happening, but they're not dangerous."

Somehow, I'm not sure how I knew, but I knew that the look I was given was a stern one. "Morgan, your body was under so much stress that we honestly don't know how you didn't die."

I sighed. "I don't know the science behind it, but it's not lethal. No one's ever died from a flare. Not ever. I'm grateful for your concern, but I'm not in any danger. I've been having flares for twenty years already, I know how they affect me."

"How long is a year?"

"The time it takes my planet to orbit the sun."

They let out an awful noise. "And you have not died! You must be one of the most sturdy members of your species."

"Not really," I said tiredly. "But what choice do I have? Either I keep living or I kill myself."

"I think many would have."

I growled. It was supposed to be a groan, but I was very angry. "So, my life is worthless because of my flares? It would be better to be dead than to be like me?"

The Patriarch stepped back, eyes fixed on my mouth. Their arms raised defensively between us. "I merely think your ability to deal with the situation is greater than most people's."

I shook my head. "This is my life. I don't have any choice in the matter. Killing myself isn't a choice either. How would you feel if one of them," I gestured at a worker, "said that if they had to live with only two legs they'd rather die? Or if I said that if I had to have four arms like you, I'd rather die?"

"I...find those ideas laughable. You and I both know it's hardly a death sentence to be bipedal, and I can tell you the extra pair of arms is an evolutionary advantage for multitasking."

"It's hardly a death sentence to be like me, either. Saying that you'd rather die is insulting. It doesn't say that you admire my strength, just that you think that my life isn't worth living."

"I don't think that, Morgan. You are the kindest human our kind has encountered. I hope there are more humans like you, not less."

"Then leave it at that." We walked in silence for a while, but a low humming was getting louder. I think we were headed to my room, near the engines. We hadn't taken any elevators, I wondered how.

"Do you know what might have caused your flare?" they asked after a while.

"Maybe, maybe not. It could be something in the food, maybe it's because of that disease Newton infected me with. They said it was safe! But apparently it's a horrible disease you didn't even have a cure for." I was still angry about that.

"According to every scan we have, your body had a greater than ninety five percent chance of fighting it off successfully, and there are no traces of the virus left in your system. I don't see why you consider that 'dangerous'."

So this wasn't just about Newton, this was a cultural thing. "What if the projections were wrong? What if I had reacted badly?"

"But you didn't."

"I just had a horrible flare. What if that was because of the energy it took to fight off that virus?"

"That...is concerning."

"What if I have flares every day from now on because of it?"

"We will have to see if that happens."

"But what if I do? And what if I had gotten severely sick?"

"The odds of that happening--"

"I don't care about the odds, I want you to tell me what you would have done if it happened, no matter how unlikely."

"It has a one hundred percent mortality rate in our species."

"So I could have died."

"But it was unlikely, and you did not."

We were going in circles. "We obviously have different ideas of what is 'safe'. I consider something 'safe' when it has a contingency plan, no matter what the odds may be."

"A contingency plan?"

"For example, what would you do if something blew a small hole, say about the size of my bed, in the hull?"

"The hull is triple reinforced, that is unlikely to happen."

"I don't care about the odds. Hypothetically, let's say it happened anyway. What would you do?"

"Seal the doors to the affected compartments and deploy workers in vacuum suits to repair the damage once the danger of further punctures had passed. Then we would alter course to the nearest shipyard for more permanent repairs."

"That's a contingency plan. No matter how unlikely it is that something will go wrong, you have a plan for what to do to minimise damage if it does."

"I see. I will prepare more 'contingency plans' for your comfort."

"Not just my comfort. If you distribute them to everyone, it will increase their efficiency in case of a crisis. Like, in large buildings on Earth, we have designated plans for what to do if the building catches fire. Buildings with those plans have much less injuries and deaths during fires than buildings without, even compared to smaller buildings."

"Why not make your buildings more resistant to fire?"

"Why not both? The last fire in my town was ten years ago, but we still have plans just in case."

"But isn't it a waste of resources?"

I thought of how Robin said they were researching human defences because of the resources soldiers needed. "Soldiers are a waste of resources, until you're under attack."

"But we keep them because we know they will be needed."

"Disasters happen. Accidents happen. No matter how unlikely, eventually something will go wrong. And if it's dangerous enough, having a contingency plan could be the difference between surviving and dying."

"I see. I think I am beginning to understand how your people survive so much."

We were outside my door. Someone had painted something on it while I was gone in a faint purplish paint I could barely see.

"Do you like it?" The Patriarch asked.

"I can barely see it. Is it ultraviolet?"

"Ah, we're still figuring out your visual range. We have given you a name in our language, as you've been naming us in yours." It sounded like the same scraping, chittering noise as all the other names. "It is the name of a great explorer, the leader of the first manned expedition to an inhabited planet other than our own."

I was touched. "That's lovely. If you paint it in this colour, I could see it," I suggested, indicating my tunic. "I'm going to sleep again, I think. Could I have a clock? I need to know when to take my medicine without having to ask every time."

"I'll have one brought. A worker will come in a few of your hours, with food. You can explain all of your needs then."

"Thank you, Patriarch. Good night." I slipped inside and noted a sink had been installed to sit on top of my cabinet, and then collapsed into bed.