#i hate the doctors and i braved it and went to a specialist for something | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writershapeholeonthedoor · 4 years ago

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I’m slowly dying (with or without you) - Supercorp

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*trigger warning for panic attacks*

The first time Lena had a panic attack, she was sixteen years old and she had the application forms from MIT spread in front of her. She was admittedly too young to even have the forms, but she was a Luthor and Luthors have their ways more often than not. Since that was the first time it happened, all the cold sweat, chest pain and trouble breathing scared the living shit out of teenage her, who burst into Lex's room announcing she was having a heart attack. It only made sense, she tried to tell him while all her brother did was stare and stare some more. That's how their father died, after all, they had the genetic predisposition for it. Doesn't matter if Lena took the healthy lifestyle quite seriously, or that she took fencing classes four times a week, practiced tennis every Saturday and ate more vegetables than any other person on the planet. She was definitely having a heart attack.

It wasn't a heart attack, as the family doctor ruled out four hours later after Lex finally drove her to the ER. A panic attack, he explained, aggravated by the fact that Lena didn't know what it was, though it was a heart attack and, as a consequence, thought that she was dying. He gave her a prescription, told her she should search for a specialist and let them go back home. On the way back, Lex told her she shouldn't tell Mother.

"Mother doesn't believe in mental diseases. That's for the weak and she hates the weak."

Lena wanted to point out that Lillian already hated her anyway but her brother did enough for her for one day to get into a discussion with him. So, instead, Lena threw the prescription away and told Lillian she asked Lex to teach her how to drive and they spent the afternoon at a Walmart parking lot. Lillian wasn’t happy with that either, but she was never happy anyway.

Lena had many panic attacks after that first one. It was especially terrifying at first because Lena knew how bad it was, how it made her few like she was about to die, so she would freak out every time her heartbeat would peak for any reason or anytime she felt a tightness in her chest. She assumed that's why the therapy would come in handy, but she hadn't been brave enough to stand up against Lillian for twelve years and she wouldn’t start by demanding to be taken to a psychiatrist.

Instead, she found help in the only place that never failed to help her in times of need. Books.

Lena went to the library and she devoured every book that approached the subject. She took notes, she ate snacks, she made a pause to learn how to drive so Lillian wouldn’t be suspicious, but she learned all she could from those books. Over time, it got easier. She would be able to identify when it was about to happen, she learned breathing exercises, she acquired hobbies that helped calm down her heart rate instead of accelerating it, she started carrying a lavender extract air freshener in her bag, and, overall, she dealt with it by herself.

Lex, before he left home and assumed their father's position at the family's company, would sometimes help. He would engage her in chess matches, entertain her with anecdotes he found funny, explain something about his projects to her. It was almost like he knew what she was going through and he wanted to support her in his own way.

Ironic to think that the same boy who drove her to the hospital in the middle of a panic attack of his own, scared about losing his little sister, would one day become the cause of her panic attacks.

It first happened when she heard about the crimes Lex committed. The atrocities, all the deaths, the pain, the destruction. She knew her brother wasn’t a good person but she never imagined that he was a murderer – a genocidal one, in fact. So, when the first police officer knocked on her door to ask her questions after Lex's first attack, Lena did not react other than panic. Because that was her older brother, the man who taught her how to play chess and who made her life at the Luthor’s residence bearable, and then there was all this proof that the same man was a monster.

It happened again later that night, when she was alone and the words kept repeating in her mind. And it happened over and over again for the months that followed it, sometimes when she heard Lex’s name, sometimes when she saw a news report about it, twice during the trial she had to testify in, sometimes when she was alone and the silence became too loud.

That’s why she picked up her things and left for National City. A change of scenery, one of the articles said, can be the key to progress.

And things shifted and molded once she set foot in the new city. Between running around to build up a company from the ashes and dealing with the mess that was her personal life, Lena didn’t have enough time to think about anything else. She got better at the breathing exercises since she didn’t have enough time to distract herself with other things and, surprisingly, for the first time since she was sixteen, Lena felt like she could handle things just fine on her own.

Then she met Kara and things changed for real. Her first friend in the new city, her best friend in the entire world, made things easier for her. It was easier to breathe, it was easier to go through her day, it was easier to be. Lena never told Kara about her panic attacks – she told no one, actually. She always thought she might have to explain eventually if Kara walked inside her office one day to find her panting behind her desk but that never happened. Lena hadn’t had a panic attack since the day she met Kara and that was as concerning as it was alluring.

How could one person be both the solution and the cause of some of her biggest problems?

It made no sense. Lena would never understand the effect Kara had on her heart – her ability to make her heart beat faster on sight and calmer on demand. As though as she could trigger a panic attack with her smile but the calm feeling she brought with her made it impossible to happen. So, like many things in her life, Lena picked up the problem and, instead of dealing with it, she shoved it inside a box and then pushed it so deep inside her mind that it wasn’t even in the shadows.

(Like her abandonment issues, the frustrated dream of going to Disney only to have Lillian saying she couldn’t go, her fear of heights and the ocean, her trust issues and her undeniable feelings towards her best friend. All the above were securely locked inside her, never to see the light of the day.

For the long two years she had known Kara Danvers, Lena had forgotten how a panic attack could feel so... suffocating. Well, not entirely forgotten. More likely, lost in her memories, replaced by other bad feelings like facing death threats thanks to her own family, falling from buildings, piloting a helicopter, almost dying on a plane and it goes on. She almost had one when she shot Lex – when she found out the truth about the person she had trusted with the biggest parts of her soul, only to find out she had been lying this whole time. She certainly felt very close to having one when Kara confronted her at the Pulitzer. It almost happened when she finally told Kara she knew the truth for quite some time now right before trapping her at the Fortress of Solitude.

All those times the only thing that stopped it from happening was blue orbs staring right back at her. Even if filled with pain, confusion, or hurt, Kara still had the remarkable effect of sending calming waves all over her body. After shooting Lex; while in shock that Kara was admitting to a secret Lena thought she never would; while crying and begging for Lena’s forgiveness behind an impenetrable wall, even to her inhuman strength.

Kara wasn’t there that time though. There was only her, and Lex, and tons of experiments surrounding them, and a broken project on the floor, and a thousand lies.

“I gave you the world!” Lex’s breath was hot and wet from that close to her face. His eyes were so filled with rage, his skin trembling with the sheer force of it, that Lena couldn’t help but writhe under it. “Everything!” Even now, alone inside her apartment, sitting in the dark in complete silence, Lena could still feel the fury directed at her like a hot iron. “I supported you! I sabotaged nothing! Touched nothing! I sacrificed my own goals for you!” And then he lowered his voice, and he resembled his mother much more than their shared father in that second because Lillian Luthor never raised her voice but she always sent the message with the same intensity. “Because you needed to see your little project fail with your own eyes, to know the true depravity of humanity, to know that my way was the only way.”

It was fair to say that Lena couldn’t even remember what exactly she replied to her brother. All she knew was that she needed to get out, to get away from him, to escape. She said a few words, turned on her heels and made her escape without tripping on her own feet although her legs felt wobbly and, her muscles, unsteady. Once inside her house, Lena finally allowed herself to feel.

To feel.

What a weird concept, she thought while sliding down the wall of her bathroom, tears rolling down her cheeks and sobs shaking her body like there was an earthquake shaking her apart. Lena wasn’t good at recognizing and asserting her feelings, and it was even harder when all she felt was sorrow.

Sorrow for having trusted once more, sorrow for having made another mistake, sorrow for having believed, even for a second, that her brother could be different, that she could be different. That a Luthor could help change the world for good. She felt utterly stupid. There wasn’t a part of her cells that didn’t feel the disappointment, the sadness, the grief.

There was so much she needed to do to fix the mess she helped create. And the mix of suffocating feelings with the anxiety of making things right before Lex could destroy humanity eventually led her to an unstoppable panic attack, right there on her bathroom floor, with the shower still running on top of her, the night thick outside and the weight of the world on her shoulders. She knew it was coming from the moment she felt the sadly familiar tightness in her chest but there was nothing she could do to stop it this time.

The floor was cold beneath her, the water was too hot on top of her. Her sobs were shaking her to the core, her tears lost in the spray of the too hot water, her breath was short, shallow and too fast, her heart felt like it was trying to rip its way out of her chest, and her thoughts were running a mile a minute.

She needed to find a way to stop Lex – how could she have trusted him again? She would need help, she couldn’t do it alone. Lex had many friends and she had none – and whose fault was that, really? - Lex had control over every agency around the world now that he altered the timeline – and how did he even do that? - Lena would need to talk with Supergirl. Kara. Kara is Supergirl. Kara is Supergirl and she never told her that. Lex was the one who said it, not Kara, and he said it before Lena shot him.

But he wasn’t dead. Not anymore. He was right there, running the company that once belonged to her, making plans to control humanity like every person meant less than an ant and he was the only one capable of controling every single little thing. Did that analogy even make sense? She wouldn’t know. Her brain was barely functioning. Kara would have liked it either way.

Kara lied to her. For two years, the woman she called her best friend, invented lame excuses to leave her presence when she needed to be Supergirl and, for two years, Lena trusted her with her eyes closed and hands tied behind her back. That’s exactly how she felt in that second as well. Blinded and bound, incapable of moving, breathing even.

Panic attacks can kill, Lena is factually aware of that because she strumbled on stories during her researches. It could cause real heart attacks, veins could burst, lungs could collapse, it could be a real mess albeit very rarely. The ‘very rarely’ part was hard to remember when her chest didn’t seem to expand enough to accommodate air, when her heart was beating so fast she could hear it pounding on her ears, when her arms felt as heavy as two concrete blocks, when her head hurt so bad she felt like it was about to explode.

“I gave you the world!”

He didn’t. Lies. Those were all lies.

“I sacrificed my own goals for you!”

Lies. They were lies.

“I supported you!”

No one had ever supported her before. How foolish of her to think she could do anything right. Lillian was right, she was a waste of space and time. Lex was right, she was a stupid girl who dreamed too much. Her father, who could barely glance at her most days, was most certainly right to avoid her as well. She was a defect, an error, a deficiency on a spinning wheel that she couldn’t control.

Everyone seemed to control her but Lena didn’t have control over anyone.

Was she in the shower or the bathtub? She felt like she was drowning. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe. She was drowning. She was going to die. The walls were closing around her. When did her bathtub get such huge walls? And when did it became so deep? Her lungs were filling with water, she was about to regurgitate the quick snack she ate earlier in the day, and she was going to die.

What a terrible way of going down, she thought between gasps for air and dry sobs. Naked and fallen in your bathroom. The paramedics will have a great laugh, at least. If she’s lucky enough, they won’t snap a picture as a memoir or to sell out to the journals. Although, in the new timeline they found themselves in, did anyone even care about who she was when Lex was the hero?

Guess she wouldn’t be around long enough to find out.

So lost in her own mind, trapped and tortured by it, it took Lena some precious seconds to realize the hot water wasn't hitting her shoulders anymore. Ironically, it made the drowning sensation increase to a laughable level. If she could laugh, that is.

In the back of her mind, behind Lex's scream, Lillian's sneers, her father's passive face, her mother's hand disappearing underwater, she heard it. It was faint, shushed by the cacophony of sounds already screaming inside her head, and it honestly felt like someone was talking with her underwater.

"Lena."

Lena wondered if that's how it felt to be pulled into a hurricane. If that would have the same spiral, out of control, out of body experience. She heard it, her name being called out in the void that had become the space around her, but she couldn't identify the voice or the source. Sometimes it was Lex, screaming into her face. Sometimes it was Lillian, calmly calling her out in all of her life’s failures. Sometimes it was Supergirl, melting and mixing with the woman she once called her best friend. Sometimes it was herself, calling out for help. Either way, it did nothing to soothe her.

"Lena."

They were all right. She wasn't worth it. None of it was actually worth it. Not her project, not her research, not her hard work, not even humanity. Nothing.

"Lena, look at me."

Her eyes were open. She knew that because they were burning like fire - either because of the water or because of the tears, she wasn't sure. But she couldn't focus them. It was like there was nothing to look at. Nothing there. She was alone, as usual. No one wished to be around a Luthor. No one. And people seemed to like to prove that theory using her as the character in a study.

"Please, tell me what's wrong."

Hard to know where to start, to be fair. Was there anything right in her life? Her mother was dead, her father was dead, Lillian hated her, Lex was a manipulative little bitch, Kara was a liar, Sam was miles and miles away taking care of her own life, she had no one else, everything she worked so hard for was gone, not even her house was the same. And she couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe. How could she still be thinking if she couldn't breathe?

"Are you hurt?"

Everywhere hurt. Every centimeter, as though someone had picked up a piece of wood and beat the crap out of her, albeit she had no recollection of that ever happening. Did that happen? Why was her body hurting like that? Why was her head hurting? And what's up with her chest? Was someone pressing it? Did anyone put a weight on it? What a stupid jerk, if so. Lena doesn't do sports, she can't lift it!

"Lena."

It sounded closer to the surface. Was someone pulling her out of the water? And when did she even get in the ocean? Lena doesn't swim.

"Lena?"

Uncertain. She could relate. And that tone made a bell ring inside her head. Her name, said in that intonation, with such uncertainty, by that voice. She heard it before. Where did she hear it before? Why was she hearing it now?

"Let me help you get up."

That pulled her right out of the water. It was like someone hooked a hand on the back of her neck and unceremoniously pulled her up. The difference was shocking, the reaction was visceral and she was left feeling exactly like a fish out of water.

"Don't touch me!"

She hadn't been touched, Lena realized a second later. Not yet, at least, but a pair of hands were reaching out for her and they were just an inch away before her loud yell stopped them. It came from deep inside her chest, her diaphragm expanding and burning before releasing all the fury like an animal - a scared, cornered animal. The hands retreated immediately and Lena was left to her own. Her ears rang with her scream and she was transported once again to her laboratory a few hours prior.

"Don't touch me," she repeated and it was like someone poked a balloon with a needle. All the anger, all the vice was gone. Left was the defeat, something she was used to but hurt just the same. "Please, don't touch me."

Silence. Despite her heart ringing in her ears, there was silence. Loud. Suffocating. Maddening.

"Okay." She breathed out of water for the first time in what felt like ages. "Okay, I won't."

The air was thick with steam and Lena was reminded of the shower she was supposed to be having. The heavy breaths, the racing heart, the pounding head, it was all still there, and it didn't get any better when she remembered she was naked, sitting on the cold tiles of her bathroom floor, not alone anymore and not in the dark. Was she not alone for long? Had she moved at some point? Her legs were firmly pressed against her chest, her knees raising so high that she could rest her chin on them and, thankfully, it meant all her front was covered, and it also felt like her muscles had been stuck in that position for years, so maybe she hadn't moved. But she also didn't know when she got company. How did she get company? All her doors were locked. She lived on the fifth floor and, even so, the windows were closed.

"Can I..." How did she get inside? "Here, just let me..."

There was shuffling around, the sound of fabric scraping together and Lena was once again reminded of how sensitive her ears got while in the middle of her crisis. Suddenly, pulling her out of her thoughts, she felt something falling over her shoulders and back. Whatever it was, it was heavy, soft and warm, and it helped to set her mind back in the present, her eyes focused, her head snapped up and her breath hitched.

And then she saw her. Well, rationally, Lena knew she was there all along, but her brain wasn't exactly functioning the right way so it was only fair it took her so much time to see Kara Danvers standing in front of her. Not so much standing, the woman was crouching, in fact, her arms reaching out around Lena and her hands holding the edges of something she assumed was the same thing that was draped over her shoulder.

Her former best friend's face was contorted in worry. The crinkle between her brows was prominent, the bright blue eyes were clouded in concern, her lips were tightly pursed in a thin line, and Lena was hooked by her look almost immediately. It was good to have something else to concentrate on, she tried to argue with herself, as though it would explain why her eyes kept moving around Kara’s face like she was a damn Michelangelo sculpture.

The hands didn’t touch her, successfully avoiding her skin after her explosion, but Lena still thought they were too close for comfort. The ends of whatever was dropped on top of her came to lay on her knees, in front of her arms, and Lena noticed that it skillfully covered all of her body. Curious, she forced her eyes to stop staring at blue ones and look down, albeit the pressure on her throat did no good to her current panicking state.

Red. Red like Supergirl’s cape. Lena panted quite heavily when she recognized that it was, in fact, Supergirl’s cape. Now being used as a blanket to cover her naked body, something she never thought would happen. The material felt harsh against her sensitive, reddened skin, brushing against her in an almost painful way. It was also heavier than it looked, definitely pushing her shoulders down and ruining her posture. But, oh, so warm. So warm.

“Lena, what happened? Can you tell me?”

Her eyes moved back at the blonde force of nature standing in front of her. The rest of the suit was missing, Lena realized, although not sure why her brain decided to jolt back to life to realize that specific detail. Kara was wearing jeans and a black deo sweatshirt that looked so soft that Lena wished she could bury her face in it and never let go. If Kara would still be wearing the sweater while she did that, well, that would just be a bonus.

“Talk to me, please. I’m worried.”

She certainly looked like it, Lena’s mushed thoughts wanted her to say. With a grimace, Kara indeed looked as worried as she could get. Her features reminded Lena of other times – of crashing helicopters, assassination attempts, falling from rooftops - all of which she hadn’t control over but she had Supergirl around to save her and make things easier. It was hard to associate the worried face of her best friend with the unbreakable pose of the superhero, even more so when they were blending together right now in front of her.

"Okay, Lena, you have to take deep breaths." No shit, she wanted to say. Do you think I enjoy breathing those shallow breaths that makes me gasp and leaves me desperate for more air? Not at all. It's not like her body was cooperative either.

"Can you do that?"

Lena didn't particularly feel like she would ever be able to breathe normally again. Rationally, she knew it would all go away in a few moments - leaving behind the dull ache in her chest and the bad feelings to deal with. However, stuck in her own mind, unable to breathe, fully panicking and totally lost, Lena was certain she was either going to live the rest of her life like that or that she was about to die - which, come to think about it, were actually one and the same.

Establishing that did nothing to help her calm down, unfortunately.

"Here, try with me."

She didn't want to. Lena truly didn't want to. She wanted, needed, Kara to move. She felt cornered, her back pressed against the wall and Kara in front of her. Her breath wasn't going to ease anytime soon while she was feeling like that. When Kara could so easily just... scream at her face, yell, grab, hurt. No, she needed space.

"Get out," her voice was hoarse, out of breath, and held none of the commands she intended it to have. Of course, the woman didn't move. "Get out."

To no avail. Her second request also fell on deaf ears. Well, selective ears, more likely. "I know you're mad at me, but you're clearly not okay so I'm not leaving you alone."

Lena didn't want to be alone. She just wanted to see the door. She wanted to see the exit and know there was a way out. Although, considering the inhuman force standing in front of her, was there really a way out? She couldn’t push Kara away, she wasn't strong enough. Supergirl was an unmovable object and Lena was no unstoppable force.

That was clearly the wrong route for her thoughts to take. Her already short breath became more erratic, her vision blurred and her chest tightened so painfully that she couldn’t help but think she was wrong and it was indeed a heart attack.

"Move," she choked. She was drowning again, faster than before. And who gave Kara the right to push her back in the water after taking her out?

For the second time.

Fortunately, Kara seemed to understand what she meant. At least, parts of it. Because she moved, taking a step to the side the best she could on her still crouching position. For a second, she just stopped there, eying Lena with bright blue eyes and furrowed brows, before she ducked her head.

"Please, tell me how I can help you."

Lena needed help. She could do it without it but she would be better sooner if she accepted the help. She didn't deserve - the soft voice, the worried face, the cape getting wet against her damp skin - but Kara was still there and Lena could be selfish for a few more minutes just so she could breathe again.

"The water."

The blonde was up to her feet in less than a second - literally, even. Lena would blame the adrenaline rush for her achievement, but she was able to shoot her hand out and grab Kara's hand before she could go farther away. Confused, the woman looked down. Broken, Lena looked up.

"Don't."

There was a pause, precious seconds being wasted, before Kara's eyes widened slightly and her other hand moved to turn the shower faucet again. The water hit Lena's back like thunder, sending electricity all over her nerves. It was hot, hotter than it was healthy to be, and it burned more painfully than she was comfortable with. But it pulled her out of the ocean again, it put the floor back under her feet, and Lena allowed the small comfort to wash over her.

Kara just stood there, her shoes getting wetter and the legs of her pants getting damp with the water splashing on the tiles, but she didn't move. Lena realized she was wearing comfortable sweatpants and a DEO hoodie that made her wonder what her former best friend was doing before showing up in her bathroom. How could she have her cape and not the rest of her suit? Kara just blinked down at her.

Then Lena let her hand drop back to her knee, releasing Kara from her hold - although, Kara could have freed herself just as easily. That seemed to bring the tall blonde back to life because she instantly moved out of the way again, leaving enough room so Lena could see the shower glass door and the bathroom’s wooden door. Her way out.

"You still need to take deep breaths."

"I-I-I-I ca-can't," Lena shook her head as she spoke, which didn't help with getting the words out.

There was a deep sigh all of sudden and she was almost offended to realize it had come from Kara. But then the other woman was moving again before her eyes could focus on her face and Lena was left to imagine if she was annoyed or not. Probably so. She probably realized Lena didn't deserve her help and that she got her sneakers wet for nothing.

Just as Lena was about to sob again, Kara sank by her side. Quite literally, she was standing one second, and then sliding by her side using the wall to support herself in the next one. Lena could only watch when the blonde sat by her side like the shower wasn't getting her clothes completely wet as well, like her loose hair wasn't clinging onto her skin and messing up her curly strands, like she wasn't sitting beside a naked and panicking woman.

Before Lena could even ask what the hell she was doing - if she could even find her voice - Kara reached her right hand out until she grasped Lena's left one. For a second, it felt like a complete stranger was touching her, like they had never touched before. It took a second, and then Kara's hand was like a rock against her trembling ones and Lena let herself be guided until her palm was resting against the woman's sternum. Kara held her hand there firmly as though she was afraid Lena would try to pull away, though she wasn't sure she could even move at that moment.

"Here, with me. In." Lena tried. "In, Lena. Deep breath in, come on, you can do it. In." Her lungs expanded and Kara nodded, copying her movement almost exaggeratedly. "Now out, slowly." She tried but it came out shaky and unsteady, so she gave up in the middle of it, letting out a huff of breath. "Again." Against Kara's chest, her hand followed the movements of her muscles and she tried to force her lungs to match the same pace.

Tired, Lena closed her eyes and let her head fall back until it hit the wall behind her. The water was now cascading down her face and neck, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She had managed to get on the safety boat and Kara was slowly pulling her back to shore.

"Does counting help?" She shook her head no. "Silence?" Another shake, more urgent this time. "Okay, I guess the blasting rock music should have been my tip-off."

Lena chuckled. It held no real humor - because she didn't find any amusement in that - but she still felt the need to let the other woman know the distraction was appreciated. Before a panic attack would start, silence, breathing exercises and calming music would do wonders to her. But after it was already happening, there wasn't much she could do to help herself.

"Maybe it could help?" Kara offered gently. "Not blasting rock on your stereo, but some music, I mean. I could go put it on."

"No," Lena shook her head again. Her breathing had started to even out, albeit it peaked again under the prospect of being alone again.

"Okay." Kara squeezed the hand she was holding. "Tell me what I can do to help."

Lena breathed in and out twenty more times - she counted them as her muscles started to lose some of the tension - before she released a deep sigh. "You already are. Just... Just stay here."

“I’m here,” the blonde stated without an ounce of doubt in her voice, or any indication that she might not be there any time soon, so Lena allowed herself to focus on her breaths.

Kara didn’t let go of her hand and she didn’t try to recover it, and it took her a few seconds to realize that was the first time in almost a year that they were touching each other. Lena wasn’t sure whose fault that was anymore – not when her brain was still foggy. All she knew, all too well, was the pain still lingering in her chest, poking her wounds, breaking her walls at the same time it put two bricks at a time to replace the one that went down. And Lena learned that it was the only thing worth carrying around because it was the only thing that made you wiser – the good feelings make you weaker, Lillian would say.

“This might cheer you up,” the woman beside her commented suddenly and Lena almost jumped out of her skin – for a second, she forgot someone was keeping her company in her very large bathroom. “I beat Alex’s ass today. We were sparring. I won. Don’t believe her if she tries to tell you otherwise.”

Lena was sure she was lying. It was quite obvious when Kara was lying. Her voice got just a note higher and she spoke in broken sentences, as though her mind couldn’t form a complete long-phrase and would just come up with things as she spoke. Lena knew that. She had noticed that little quirk of her friend a few months into their friendship. It still amazed her how long she allowed herself to be blinded by Kara’s secret just because she thought...

What did she think, exactly? That Kara wouldn’t lie to her? That Kara was different from every other person who had ever been a part of her life? Even when she knew when her friend was lying? Even when she knew Kara’s voice enough to know when she was hiding something?

Who was the real idiot there?

Feeling overly exposed to those intrusive thoughts that were doing nothing to help her, Lena hugged the red cape closer around her body and shivered. Although the water falling from the shower was hot, it wasn’t enough to keep the soaked cape warm enough to keep her body temperature high, neither was the cold floor against her naked skin helping in any way. She wasn’t about to move, though.

“I was doing my laundry when I heard your heartbeat spike.”

The admission sounded quieter and almost shy, but Lena didn’t have the strength to look over at the woman who used to know all of her secrets – and offered only lies in exchange – to see it herself. Instead, she kept breathing in a perfect match with Kara. In and out. In and out. Hold in, slowly out.

“I tried to call your phone, but you didn’t answer. I called your name, but I didn’t get a response. I thought you were dying, so I panicked and broke your balcony door. I will fix it, promise.”

Lena almost laughed at that. She tried to picture it, the puppy reporter holding a shovel or mixing cement. The prospect of having Supergirl doing it was even funnier. And, for God’s sake, Kara Danvers is Supergirl and she had to hear it from Lex after she shot him.

“I thought I was dying too,” Lena confessed in a weak whisper that was barely audible.

Kara’s thumb was doing circles on the back of her hand and on the side of her wrist. For how long she had no idea, but that seemed to be the last paddles taking her to shore. “What happened?”

“I gave you the world! Everything!”

She could still feel it. His breath against her face, his saliva hitting her skin, his voice ringing against her ears, resounding on her head, breaking her down. Lex himself had never laid a finger on her. Over the years he had paid numerous men to try and take her life – and how many of those attempts were stopped by Supergirl? – but her own brother never physically assaulted her. Words, on the other hand, were his biggest weapon and Lex was a master at operating his guns.

He learned that from Lillian, as did Lena, ironically. Although the three of them were very different from each other. While Lillian held venom in her words, she never raised her voice. Lena had seen her in many levels of anger throughout her life, but she never saw her scream or yell. Lex dealt with things like her total opposite. He wouldn’t scream at every corner, however, he would get frustrated very easily and his way to lash out was to yell and let it all out. Meanwhile, Lena used sarcasm and some very well-made phrases.

She had only screamed once out of anger and it had been into Supergirl’s face right before she locked her away like an animal. Lena didn’t think she would have been able to scream if she was confronting Kara instead. Sweet, innocent Kara, although now she knew the truth. Now, months later, she wasn’t even sure she could scream at Supergirl again.

“Lena, breath in and out with me.”

Her breathing had accelerated again. It made sense, Lena thought with a generous amount of bitterness. Thinking about Lex and Lillian did that to her. “I think I’m going to puke.” As soon as she said it, her stomach made a sickening churn and she heaved a dry gasp. There was no thinking. She was going to puke.

“Can I help you get to the toilet?”

The other alternative was puking all over Supergirl’s cape. And maybe the idea was a little appealing, she wasn’t going to lie, but she also didn’t wish to puke all over herself. So instead Lena nodded and, in a blink, Kara slid from her sitting position to the same crouching stance she had before. This time, she held Lena's hand still close to her chest before she searched for the other one underneath her own cape. Lena was in no condition to be self-aware of her nudity or the fact that her former best friend was brushing much more skin than she was comfortable with.

“Here, I will pull you up and carry you.”

Lena wanted to protest but the bile was already high on her throat, her legs were still shaking and her head was spinning. Nodding, she let herself be pulled up to a standing position. In that second, many things went through her head – she was going to puke right then and there, the cape was sliding off her shoulders and her front was definitely naked, and Kara was very, very impressively holding her up since Lena had no strength on her muscles. The blonde let go of one of her hands so she could use the other one to adjust the cape around the smaller quivering woman before she easily scooped her into her arms and stepped out of the shower.

They were both wet and water started dripping on the floor immediately. However, Lena was not going to worry about it when her body was rebelling against her. Kara kneeled on the floor, taking the brunette with her like she weighed less than a penny, and Lena was hovering over the toilet a second later. She hadn’t eaten anything after the quick snack earlier that day, Lena remembered too late, because all that rose in her throat was liquid mixed with bile that left a burning trail on the way. She panted a couple of times, emptying her already empty stomach, until all she could do was cough.

“Breathe,” Kara reminded her softly and she came to realize the woman was sitting behind her on the floor, holding her wet hair up and out of the way, drawing soothing circles on her back. “Do you need to go to the hospital? I can take you.”

“N-No.”

“Or maybe the DEO, if you prefer,” the not-so-secret-anymore hero tried again. “Or Alex. I can call Alex or take you to her.”

“Kara,” Lena interrupted her, one of her hands letting go of the sides of the toilet to touch the woman’s thigh behind her – the only place she could reach in their position. Her mind felt much lighter now that her body had made the last rebel act against her. “I will be fine. It’s a panic attack. I’ve had them before, it’s fine.” That came out all shaky and broken as she fought to get enough breath to say the words.

Strong fingers closed around hers on a strong thigh. “I don’t know what to do, please tell me what I can do to help.”

Lena sighed, her entire body losing the rest of strength it had and falling on her knees on the floor. She let her upper body rest against the side of the toilet, trying to ignore the smell coming from it, as her fingers dug into a muscular thigh so hard that she was sure her knuckles were white. She closed her eyes and ran her other hand against her forehead to try to stop the drops of water and sweat from reaching her eyes.

She was allowed to be selfish for just a while longer.

“Alex kicked your ass, didn’t she?”

There was a startled silence behind her before a huff was heard, the warm breath hitting the side of her face. “She wishes. I totally won. Big time.”

The worst liar who ever existed – and Lena was the fool who fell for every single one of them. “Where’s the rest of your suit?”

“Washing.”

“I made the suit myself,” Lena reminded her. “It uses nanotechnology. You don’t have to wash it.”

“No need to brag, geez.”

Lena laughed. She just couldn’t help it. When was the last time she laughed? She couldn’t tell. It happened so long ago that she didn’t even remember that. One thing she was sure of: it was definitely because of Kara. And there she was again.

“Like I said, I was sparring with Alex. She insists I use my cape so I can learn how to escape if anyone grabs it.” Kara sighed. “She also said I should have kept the skirt and removed the cape.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That I still have the skirt somewhere if she wants to use it and see how it feels like.”

The younger woman scoffed and opened her eyes again. Her heart wasn’t beating so fast anymore, the worst of it seemed to be over, but her chest still felt tight. “You were wearing the cape with a hoodie?”

Kara looked down at her own outfit like she hadn’t noticed it before. Her clothes were soaked and clinging into her body, but she just shrugged. “I like the hoodie, it’s comfy.”

“Well, it’s better than what I have right now,” Lena avoided looking down because the last thing she needed was to see how very much naked she was in the presence of the woman she was once in love with.

Although it still felt like she was, being completely and utterly honest. Lena could lie to people around her but she wasn’t going to lie to herself. If she didn’t have any type of romantic feelings towards Kara, she would never have been blind enough to miss the huge piece of information that was almost screamed into her face every day. And if she had got over said feelings, she wouldn’t have followed Kara out to offer her condolences over Jeremiah’s death, neither would she spend two hours in a bookstore trying to find the perfect book, neither would she still have Kara’s photo in her phone and a perfect copy on her table.

“Do you want me to grab you something to wear?” Kara asked softly, as though she was also noticing for the first time that the other woman was naked – though, she did go out of her way to cover her when she got there.

Lena tossed the idea around her head a couple of times before she nodded. “Just... don’t be long.” How pathetic. Lillian would have smirked at her, the same smirk that made her feel like she was worth less than gum on her shoe. Lex would have laughed in her face.

“Two seconds, I promise.”

It took her two seconds, indeed. The gush of wind from her departure was not even gone before Kara was back, holding a change of clothes in her hands. She put it by the sink before stepping back with a shy smile.

“I will let you change, but I will be just outside, okay?”

“Kara, I-“ Lena closed her eyes in shame. “I don’t think I can stand by myself without puking again.”

Or passing out. Or starting another attack. Or wishing to throw herself from the closest window. Either way, Kara seemed to understand because she approached her again, this time with both hands extended in front of her body. Lena took them without a second thought, as though trusting Kara came as second nature to her – something she thought she had forgotten almost a year ago. The blonde helped her to her feet and Lena had to let go of one of her hands to hold the cape in front of her chest to keep it wrapped around herself.

She must be a view, she thought then. Wet, eyes swollen because of the tears, panic still lingering at the corners of her eyes and wrapped around Supergirl’s cape. She must have looked even more ridiculous than she felt.

Once standing, Kara held her hand for a few more seconds. “Are you good?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? Your heartrate is spiking again.”

Lena nodded. “I’m still in the middle of it. It will take a while to wear off.”

“What else can I do?” She had no answer for that and Kara clearly had no idea what to do, so she kept talking because that’s what she did. “What if I make you some tea? Would that help?”

“I guess.”

“Okay, good.” Kara nodded and took a step back, ready to get the new task in her hands done.

“Just...” the brunette sighed. “Just don’t close the door.”

Kara didn’t, and even if Lena was a little self-conscious about it, she was also thankful. Still shaking, she found herself a towel in the cabinet and let the hero’s cape fall from her body so she could get dry. Lena tried to do it as fast as she could. She could hear Kara moving around her kitchen and suddenly her bathroom felt too suffocating. She needed to get out.

Once completely dried, she picked the clothes Kara brought her. Yoga pants that she hadn’t worn since the last time she went to spinning classes – which, ironically enough, happened with Kara by her side – and a hoodie that Lena knew all too well. The gray sweater from National City University that belonged to Kara. The woman loaned her that when she found Lena drunkenly slurring her words out, drinking wine in her dark apartment, and turns out Lena never gave it back to her.

It’s not like she stole it. It’s just she wasn’t going to give it back to her friend without washing it first, but then she didn’t want to run any risks of ruining it, so she was going to do that separate from the other clothes. When she finally realized it, a month had gone by and they were having the third movie night where Lena was wearing the sweater and Kara had yet to say a thing. When she tried to give it back, Kara said she should make it her official movie night uniform.

Lena would never admit to wearing that sweater when she missed Kara during their fall-out, but she was also not going to deny it.

Either way, Kara had opened her closet – her ridiculously large closet – and between all the options, she chose her National City University hoodie for Lena to wear. That was, admittedly, the only hoodie Lena had, but she had other sweaters and long sleeve shirts Kara could have picked.

God, Lena was really going to grasp onto thin hopes, wasn’t she?

The bile was still burning in the back of her throat, so she moved to the sink next so she could brush her teeth, half wishing she could also have a mint or something. Even without it, she felt remarkably better already.

Kara was leaning against the counter with her right hip, dipping the tea bag inside her favorite mug - something ridiculously colorful with chemical elements all over that the woman herself gave Lena because it "reminded me of you" - and her face was serious, as though she was truly putting all her attention in not screwing up the task in her hands. She had pulled her hair in a ponytail to lock away the wet, messy curls, and her clothes seemed a bit drier, like she somehow had put it to fast dry while Lena changed. More likely she just used her breath or ran around for a few seconds. Her left hand was stuffed inside the pocket of her sweatpants, her jaw was set and Lena could see, even from the distance, that she was frowning as well.

And there was something in the way she just stood there, looking completely out of place and totally belonging there at the same time that just clicked something deep inside Lena.

Something she had buried away a long time ago, shoved inside a box and pushed it deep, deep, deep in her mind.

She could admit she had made a mistake when she started working with Lex, and she could admit she made a mistake when she locked Kara inside her own fortress, and she could admit she made a mistake when she closed her eyes to the truth screaming right into her face. She could admit she fell in love with Kara, she could admit she tried to fight it, she could admit it only broke her heart more than if she had talked with Kara about it. She could admit many things, but she would never admit how many times she dreamed about the scene in front of her. Dreamed about the domesticity that she always wished for, but never voiced.

“Are you feeling better?” Kara asked, snapping her out of her thoughts. The blonde had straightened her body against the counter, she picked up the mug between her long fingers and tried to smile, although it was constricted and uneasy.

Feeling better? Lena hadn’t felt better in almost a year. She felt angry, and lonely, and empty most of the time, and none of those feelings had washed away. They still hadn't. Those were some long months. It was a long time to spend alone, trying to find your way in a world you thought you knew while it seemed to be burning around you. It was a long time missing your friends, your found family, the days where everything was simpler. It was a long time battling to do good and hold everything together when you had no idea how to hold yourself together.

At least, she could breathe, unlike ten minutes ago when she was heaving desperate breaths on her bathroom floor.

So, she nodded. And Kara smiled a bit softer, and her next breath came a bit easier. At that moment, while her former best friend took a few steps closer to hand her the tea and offered her a smile she hadn’t seen in a long time, Lena realized she was remorseful. After everything that happened in the last hours, after another disappointment and another day missing and aching something that she lost, all she could feel was remorse.

She should apologize. She could try, at least. Ask for forgiveness after doing the things she did. Kara had a big heart – the biggest she ever saw – and maybe, just maybe, she would find it in herself the possibility to forgive her. Something that Lena hadn’t been able to do a year ago when she shot Lex and found out the truth.

But, then again, it was her own fault for closing her eyes to the truth for so long. It was obvious – painfully obvious – and she told herself over and over again that she was crazy for even considering it to be real. Perhaps she had been angrier at herself than at Kara. Perhaps she was just angry in general. After a year, it was hard to remember.

She picked up the mug from Kara’s hand, making sure they wouldn’t touch, before she took two steps back so fast that it was like she had been burned. Kara noticed it, of course she did, and her expression hardened again when she also took a few steps back. The blonde hero leaned back against the counter while Lena fought the urge to run and hide. Instead, she felt the coldness of a wall behind her and let her back rest there as she slowly brought the cup to her lips.

The tea was made the exact way she liked it, she noticed when the hot liquid touched her tongue. With just a splash of milk, no sugar, strong. Lena took a long sip as she avoided looking at Kara again. Her mind chose that moment to remind her that her former best friend had just witnessed a very real mental breakdown she had in her bathroom, that she had seen her crying naked on the floor, that she had begged not to be alone.

If she had trouble facing Kara with all the regrets from before, now she could barely stay in the same room as her.

“Do you want something to eat?”

Lena almost pointed out that she had barely eaten for almost a year. She used to have Kara dropping by at lunch or dinner with a bag of food to remind her to take a break and eat, but there was no one there to do it once Kara was gone.

Not gone, Lena reminded herself. Sent away.

Instead, she shook her head and took another sip of her tea. It was vanilla, which was a weird choice for that hour of the day. She usually likes drinking vanilla tea after lunch, black tea in the morning, and chamomille at night. Those were things Kara didn’t know, she thought. They hadn’t shared enough breakfasts for her to know it, and she was always gone when Lena indulged herself with a tea after lunch.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Again, she shook her head.

“I supported you! I sabotaged nothing! Touched nothing! I sacrificed my own goals for you!”

Lena closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the steam leaving the mug to let the smell wash over her. Lex had bad breath. Always had, if she was going to be honest. She remembers noticing it even when she was a kid and he was reading her books in bed, waiting for her to sleep when in reality she was too entranced in the story to actually do it. After she grew up, she started thinking if his bad breath was caused by his putrid soul. A manifestation of his rotten interior, as funny as it sounded. Either way, she could still feel his breath against her face and it made her stomach churn again.

“I should go.”

She hadn’t realized she had opened her eyes until she was blessed by the sight of a slightly annoyed Kara. The hero was unhappy, probably because of her lack of response, and she had pushed herself from the counter as though she was actually going to start walking away.

Away from Lena. Again.

Away.

“No,” she found herself saying before she could think about it.

No, don’t go.

No, don’t leave.

No, don’t walk away.

No, don’t leave me alone.

She could say any of the above and they would all be the truth. She didn’t. She couldn’t. She still had her pride, although faltered. Instead, Lena looked down to the dark floor of her kitchen and tried not to purse her lips in the same way Lillian hated.

"You can yell at me all you want later," she declared. “I just... I can’t be alone. It could... It could happen again.”

It wasn’t unusual, Lena thought to herself. Her panic attacks always came in pairs, which was a bit ironic considering Lena herself barely had any friends. And, even when she managed to avoid the second one, the feelings eating her inside still wouldn’t leave for days on end. And it wasn’t like she couldn’t be alone. She could, she had been alone for most of her panic attacks since she first started having them, but she didn’t want to. Not when Kara was there again. Not when she was sorry and Kara was there.

"I'm not going to yell at you.” That wasn’t what Lena was waiting to hear. She was expecting some lame excuse or no answer at all as Kara walked away. She wasn’t ready for what she heard.

"Please,” she scoffed and rolled her eyes because, of course, Kara would yell. Lex had yelled, her father had yelled, Lillian had yelled in her own quiet way. And it wasn’t like Kara didn’t deserve to let her frustrations with Lena out. “You can scream, say I'm worthless, call me names, say you hate me. Yell whatever you want later,” Lena shrugged and sighed. “Right now I just..."

Need you to stay and keep my mind busy.

She didn’t have the chance to say it, though. Kara interrupted her before she could, her voice firm and only slightly raised. "I don't hate you.” Their eyes locked from across the room. Kara was frowning, her hands had gripped the counter behind her, and her face was hard. When she spoke next, her words were calmer, although they held the same intention. “I might not agree with everything you did but I don't hate you.” Another pause, this time her voice came out broken and uncertain. “Do you hate me?"

Maybe. Lena wasn’t sure she ever hated Kara, albeit it was easy to think she did.

Kara had always brought most of her feelings from within her. The good was easy to see. Her loyalty to her only friend in a new city, her happiness, her love. Those were easy to feel and, even more, good to feel. After she accepted that Kara was the person that would make her feel more than anyone else in her life, Lena even bathed herself in those new things. But, it turned out, Kara also made her feel the max out of the bad as well. The rejection, the betrayal, the hurt.

And those were hard to feel. Those feelings she didn’t want to feel.

She did, though.

And perhaps it made her hate Kara for a second.

"Hate is the only thing I was taught was okay to feel," Lena admitted lowly, her breath blowing away the fog coming from the mug at the same time her eyes moved to the big glass door across the room. Outside, the night was heavy, the clouds were probably hiding the stars and the moon was only showing its right side. Inside, the tension was just as heavy, the hurt was hiding Lena’s true feelings and the tea was now lukewarm.

It felt like a lifetime ago when Kara first waltzed in her life, bringing the sun and all its shine with her. Certainly felt more than a year.

Inside, there was Kara, standing in front of her after a year of doing everything she could to keep her distance. Inside her apartment, there was Kara, strong and determined. Inside her heart, Kara was being pushed away by a monster called hurt, although she refused to leave. Not for the first time, Lena wondered if she would ever heal. Maybe she was too broken already. She felt hollow. She had felt like that for a long time now.

“Lena, do you hate me?”

The question was made with so much hesitation that Lena felt her heart sink, skip a beat, and start running at the same time. She was sorry, God, she was so damn sorry. But she was so hurt too. It was a lot to feel for someone that hadn’t felt much all her life. Or maybe she had felt too much all her life.

It was hard to say.

“No.” The admission came easier than it should have, Lena thought to herself. She did hate Kara, for only a second and only because hate was something she knew how to feel since she was a child. But it was only for a second. Enough to make her lose her breath and make some terrible decisions. Enough to make her scream and lock Kara away, and then lose herself. Enough to make her hate herself. “God. I tried, I tried so hard to hate you, what you did, your lies, your actions, your betrayal. But I can't. I can’t hate you.”

For whatever reason, she looked back to the other woman. Kara’s eyes were still hard, her brows were still furrowed, her lips were still pushed together in a thin line, but there was a small glint in her eyes that looked suspiciously like tears. She didn’t look angry exactly, but she didn’t look happy either. Lena suddenly remembered the face that had looked at her inside her bathroom – concerned and desperate to help – and she almost wished it back. She remembered the cape draped on her shoulders and the soft hand grasping at hers. She remembered lies next and it all came crashing down.

“Do you want to?” Kara asked eventually.

She didn’t look like she actually wanted the answer for that and Lena didn’t truly want to give her one. She did, however. Because her chest was still too tight and her thoughts were jumbled and her heart was aching for the past year and her sun hadn’t shone ever since.

“Yes.” Kara looked surprised, only for a second, before she started looking angry and Lena could almost hear her voice raising to yell at her next – and she deserved it, didn’t she? She decided to talk faster to avoid it regardless of that. “It would be easier than loving you.” The hero now looked shocked and Lena huffed a humorless laugh at that. “I’m sure it would hurt less.”

That was a lie. She couldn’t be sure it would hurt less. She hoped it would hurt less because, right now, it hurts like a bitch and it was hard to think it could be worse than that. The universe wouldn’t be so cruel. Or maybe it would. It tended to have a great laugh with her.

“Lena...”

Lena shrugged, took another sip of her lukewarm tea and sighed. When she looked up again, Kara had moved. She had taken a couple of steps closer before she stopped, took three steps back, then moved forward again. She came to a halt in the middle of Lena’s ridiculously big kitchen, with her mouth opening and closing like she was trying to say something but had no idea what to say, and Lena almost laughed.

Almost.

She didn’t, though. Because she felt more like crying than laughing for almost a year now.

“I will have your cape washed and return it tomorrow,” she said, took a deep breath, and reached out to put her mug down and crossed her arms. “I hope you don’t mind if I use...” coconut soap. That was what she was going to say and it would be more out of depracative humor than actual concern for Kara’s soap preferences, but the words died at the back of her throat when she noticed that the blonde was moving again.

Closer.

Really close.

Somehow, closer than they had been inside her bathroom because, in there, Kara had touched her hand and nothing else. In the kitchen, her former best friend suddenly raised her hand to touch Lena’s jaw.

“What are you doing?” she asked and she sounded completely out of breath as though she was in the middle of a new panic attack. Which wouldn’t be surprising. There wasn’t a mirror around, but Lena could picture the surprise on her face and the panic behind her eyes as she waited for Kara’s response.

“I just...” Blue eyes flicked from her eyes to her lips, then back to her eyes, and Kara looked so lost that Lena almost asked her if she needed to sit down and take a breath. “I just need to try something.”

Kara’s lips were softer than they looked, which came as a shock. Lena gasped the first time she felt them touching hers and her eyes widened as her arms fell to her side, not sure what was even going on. Kara tasted like a matcha green latte from Starbucks – and Lena hated matcha with all her being – and onion ring chips that she remembered were one of Kara’s favorite snacks. She smelled a bit like sweat and deodorant, and she kind of kissed Lena’s teeth at first before their lips touched.

Lena always imagined their first kiss – and, yes, she had thought about it like an obsessed person since she first met the blonde – would be the sweetest thing ever, with fireworks exploding in the background, racing hearts and shy giggles. Things she saw in the romantic comedies she watched on numerous movie nights because she knew Kara liked them. Things she had never experienced herself, but thought they would happen when she kissed the woman she had fallen in love with so deeply.

That wasn’t the case.

There were no fireworks and it wasn’t sweet either. Her heart was racing, though. One thing checked. The kiss was heavy with hurt and a year of distance. The giggles didn’t come. It was hard, and messy, and out of sync, and Lena felt almost angry at Kara for taking that fantasy away from her. For crushing another thing in her life.

Instead, she tried to take it back by biting the blonde’s bottom lip hard enough to make her gasp, by raising one hand to grab the back of Kara’s neck to pull her close at the same time she pulled her hair harder than was necessary, by raising her other hand to grasp at the front of her hoodie to both tug her closer and push her away. Instead, she swallowed Kara’s gasp and shoved her tongue inside her mouth. Instead, she tried to hate Kara at the same time she loved her.

Instead, she only hated herself.

Kara pushed her back against the wall she was leaning against, kissing her back as hard as she was, but Lena didn’t allow her to take any control away from her. She felt a strong hand holding her hip as the other one cupped her face. Their push and pull lasted about a minute before they both realized there was no point in fighting it. No point in pushing.

Like wildfire in a dry forest, there was no way to stop it.

Kara’s hand was suddenly under her sweater – Kara’s borrowed sweater – touching her still damp skin and raising goosebumps everywhere she touched. Then her own hands were pulling Kara’s hoodie away, then her legs were wrapping around a slim waist, strong arms were picking her up, soft lips were kissing her neck and white teeth were biting her skin, and Lena felt the fire explode.

Inside, outside, everywhere.

She felt underwater again. She couldn’t hear anything other than the thunder her heart was creating inside her chest, and she wasn’t sure she was feeling anything other than the wandering hand beneath her clothes. Was there even anything else to feel? To hear?

“Lena?”

Lena didn’t open her eyes, even when her brain caught up with the distance Kara added between them. She had been barely able to feel Kara’s lips before, but she missed them once they were gone. She missed the warmth, the softness, even the taste. And she missed Kara’s hand once her former best friend removed it from the cold skin of her ribs.

“Lena? Your heartrate is spiking again.”

Kara sounded scared, although Lena had no idea why. She had witnessed a panic attack just a few minutes prior. Surely, she should know Lena wouldn’t die by now.

“Lena?”

She should do something about it. Take her mind away off it before it became a real, full-on panic attack that would consume her again.

“Onion ring chips.”

“Uh?”

Lena almost smiled at the confusion she could hear in Kara’s voice. She tilted her head down to hide the grin that insisted to appear, grabbed the blonde’s hoodie even harder and made sure that Kara knew she wasn’t supposed to pull away any further by tightening her hold at the nape of her neck. No point in pushing.

“You taste like onion ring chips.”

“Oh,” it was just a release of her breath, either in relief or more confusion, but Lena could picture Kara’s face perfectly even with her eyes closed – a crinkle between her brows, big blue eyes, pink lips pushed together. “Yeah, I, uh, I was eating before I came.” Blinking her eyes open, Lena sighed, nodded distractedly and tried to focus on everything she could see. Blue eyes, the crinkle, the tiny scar, pink lips, a black hoodie that was way softer than it looked, a faint blush. “Your heart is quite fascinating,” Kara mumbled under her breath when she raised one hand to fiddle with her glasses.

Lena immediately missed her touch. She wouldn’t, however, voice that. She could have, a year ago, but not anymore. Now, she bit the inside of her cheek and pretended she didn’t care when Kara let her hand drop instead of putting it on her waist again.

“Did you figure it out?” she whispered.

“What?”

“You said you needed to try something,” Lena reminded her with just a hint of bitterness. “Did you figure it out?”

Kara took a step back as though she had burned her. Half of her wanted to follow, to pursue, to touch and be touched. The other half, the one that still held some sanity, crossed her arms and hardened her expression. For the first time that night, the hero looked like she would rather be anywhere else.

“I-” Kara stopped, gulped, shook her head, looked down, placed both hands on her waist, looked up, down again, and then shrugged like she had just been defeated. Like she had just walked away from the hardest battle of her life without a victory. “Yes,” she ended up saying after Lena thought she would just fly away without looking back. “Yes, I did.”

At that, Lena cracked a smile. It was filled with bitterness and every bad feeling swirling inside her chest, and she wasn’t brave enough to look at Kara to see her reaction to the brokenness that was clear on her face. She was broken and she didn’t have the strength to hide it that night.

“Okay.”

Kara took another step back and the uncertainty, the hesitation she was feeling was clear as day in her blue eyes. Lena had forgotten. She had forgotten they were supposed to be enemies now, working on different sides and making accusations instead of sharing lunch while watching crap TV.

What an irony, Lena thought. What an irony that they had to kiss as enemies when they had been friends for much longer. When friends had meant much more.

The blonde took a step closer then, then took another two back, then closer again. She looked like she was trying to figure out something to say, what she should do, where to go from there. She had no idea where to start, but neither had Lena.

Kara was saved from saying anything when Lena yawned, bringing a hand to cover her mouth and letting her eyes fall close for a second. When she opened them again, the hero’s face had softened and she had a tiny smile that made Lena’s heart beat faster for a completely different reason.

“You should go to sleep.”

Lena almost said she wouldn’t be able to sleep – she never could so soon after a panic attack. However, she took one look at Kara’s almost gentle smile and decided to let her have that way out of the clearly uncomfortable conversation. Because it has been a year, and they were different people, and Lena didn’t even know who she was anymore, let alone anyone else around her.

“Okay. Yes, I will.”

So, Lena went on with her nightly routine while trying to ignore the elephant – or the superhero – in the room. She put the used mug inside the dishwasher, walked back to her room to grab her empty glass of water to fill it up and walked back to the kitchen. Kara hadn’t moved much, she had just leaned against the island counter and was staring at the marble with her brows furrowed and so intensely that, for a second, Lena thought she would burn the whole thing down by just staring at it. When Lena walked past her holding the full glass, she didn’t move and Lena didn’t say anything.

She wanted to.

Wanted to ask if she was going to stay there all night, staring at her counter and looking like she had no idea where she was. Wanted to ask if Kara still remembers where the extra blankets were. Wanted to ask her to leave at the same time she wanted to ask her to stay. And, in between her own confusion, Lena chose not to say a thing.

She put her glass down at the nightstand on top of the coaster, put her phone on the charger and walked to her bathroom so she could brush her teeth. While she added the toothpaste to her boring red toothbrush, Lena yawned again. All the emotions from her day were catching up on her. The deception with her project, with herself and humanity. Lex’s explosion. The panic attack. Kara randomly showing up. Kara’s lips touching hers. It felt like she had been awake for more than a day – more like a month – and all she wanted to do was crawl on her bed and rest. She knew sleep wouldn’t come easily, it never did these days, but she would try at the very least.

Lena fell on top of her bed like a dead weight. She didn’t bother changing clothes, closing the door or checking to see if Kara had left. The clothes made her feel comfortable, the bedroom could feel too small with the door closed and she didn’t want to know she was alone. So, she just took a deep breath, stared up at the ceiling and tried to think of ways she could force her body to sleep so she wouldn’t be able to think anymore.

Ironically, she fell asleep in less than a minute.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Lena woke up with the sound of heavy rain. There wasn’t thunder or lightning, but the rain was falling heavily outside from what she could hear. She took a deep breath, groaning a bit when she stretched, and then turned around to reach her phone. Her room was dark, mostly because of the curtains stopping any outside light to get in, and the glow from her phone burned her eyes for the first few seconds. She blinked the discomfort away before trying to focus on what she had to do that day.

She was halfway into remembering everything that had happened the day before when she noticed her blanket wasn’t its usual black color. Lena frowned, deciding she could concentrate on something else for a minute, and her arms fell to her sides so her fingers could investigate the material. It wasn’t as fluffy or soft as her usual blanket with its thousand something threadcount that had made it ridiculously expensive. Lena reached for her phone again so she could light the area around her and almost choked on nothing when she realized what had been used to protect her from the chill air of the night.

It was red and way heavier than it looked, and it certainly didn’t belong to her house. Supergirl’s cape. Every memory came crashing down on top of her leaving her breathless and lost. She remembered leaving that cape on her bathroom floor, wet and cold, and it made no sense to her that it was used as her personal mantle for the night. The only way for the cape to be covering her now instead of wetting her floor would be for Kara to have walked in after she fell asleep and put it on top of her.

That thought, that image, made Lena feel sorry again. She was sorry for many things. She had made a mistake, she was sorry, and she needed to say that before it was too late. Before Lex could move on with his plan, before he could cause even more damage than he already had, before something worse happened. And she needed to say she could never, ever, choose to hate Kara over loving her.

She needed to say that.

Lena almost jumped from her bed as she rushed to get changed and ready to go. It was early, way too early, and it was raining outside, but she would cross town to reach Kara’s apartment and she would apologize, she would tell her she was sorry and she would ask what the hell was the whole ordeal with the kiss from last night.

She hadn’t dreamed about that, had she? Kara kissed her. Kara really kissed her. Their lips had touched in a very non-friendly way. That hadn’t been a dream, had it?

No, Lena decided while putting on her trench coat without thinking too much about what she was doing. It hadn’t been a dream. She had said she loved Kara – loves, still, if she was going with the whole ‘being honest’ thing – and Kara had kissed her. Which could mean nothing, but also could mean everything, and Lena wasn’t about to ignore it for any longer. She would have to apologize, so she could add her own question into it.

She just needed to get to Kara’s place and...

Lena stopped in her tracks, almost slipping on the floor with how sudden she came to a stop, and only avoided screaming thanks to the way she was raised by Lillian. Kara was idly sitting on a stool by the island counter in the middle of her kitchen, drinking something from Lena’s old MIT mug while she read the morning journal. Like it was something common. Like she hadn’t just scared Lena to death. Like she belonged there.

Kara didn’t look up – not that she needed, Lena reasoned, she probably knew Lena was awake since before she had noticed it herself. All the blonde did was take another sip from the mug, turn the page and pursed her lips when she read something she didn’t like. The silence that fell above them was different from the night before. It was less heavy, Lena felt just as breathless, but it only lasted about ten seconds before Kara finally spoke.

“Are you going somewhere?”

She hadn’t look up yet and Lena felt only slightly disappointed. She missed the blue eyes, the small scar and the crinkle. She missed it more than she missed a simpler life without murdering brothers returning from the dead. Instead of replying right away, Lena glanced to her own outfit, to her purple trench coat, the jeans and boots, to the cape she had folded on top of her left forearm, and then, for some reason, she blushed. She felt ridiculous, for some reason.

“I...” Lena cleared her throat, bit her lips for a quick moment and then sighed when she looked back up. Kara was just lowering the mug again, and Lena watched her throat move up and down as she swallowed. Honesty, she tried to remember. “I was going to... try to find you.”

Somehow, saying she was going to try to find Kara sounded better than saying she was going to leave her apartment at 6 am on a Saturday when the sky was falling outside to cross town to beg for forgiveness. It wasn’t a lie, at least. And, apparently, it made Kara lose some of her determination to not look at her. Lena noticed how blue eyes moved to the side just for a second before focusing on the journal again and she found herself blushing again.

“Well... You found me.”

Yes, she did. Sitting in Lena’s kitchen, reading her journal and drinking her... whatever that was. Still there. Still around. Still... existing in Lena’s life as though they hadn’t avoided each other for almost a year. Well, Lena did most of the avoiding, she was going to admit that. She was also going to admit she had missed waking up and feeling hopeful.

And hope was all she could feel when her mouth started to move on its own accord, without her approval and faster than her brain could keep up. Hope that Kara would understand, that she would be able to find it in herself to forgive her when Lena had taken almost a year to be able to show her the same treatment.

“I have made a terrible mistake.” She watched through misty eyes because of the tears as Kara slowly let go of the mug so she could close her hand into a tight fist, and, even though her heart clenched and her mind started to race, Lena couldn’t stop talking. “I was hurt. I was so hurt. And... I thought I could get rid of the hurt.”

Kara put the paper down next and she took a deep breath before finally turning her head to look at her. Lena almost stopped there, she almost gave up, turned around, walked back to her room and allowed darkness to consume her. She didn’t, though. Not when Kara was looking at her like... like she didn’t hate her. Not when Kara was still there. So, instead, Lena tried to remember how warm the sun Kara brought to her life felt, let her fingers fiddle with the cape she was holding tightly and let every word slip from her lips without trying to contain them anymore.

“I thought that I knew better, that I could make the world a better place. But I was wrong,” Lena swallowed a sob back and tried to hold back her tears, although it was already a lost battle. “That hurt took me to a dark, dark path, where I was blind to what I was really doing, to what I had become. You were right. This whole time I became a villain, and then...” A lot of things had almost happened. And then she lost everything. And then she was proved wrong. And then Lex showed his true colors again. And then, and then, and then. And then nothing. “I’m not looking for forgiveness. I’m... I know what I said and I know what I did, but I am...” Sorry, so terribly sorry. “I am really hoping that you will believe me right now. Okay?”

“Lena.” The single word, her name, wasn’t said softly or gently, but it wasn’t a curse either.

Even so, Lena didn’t look up from where she was staring at the red cape and she didn’t try to stop talking either. “Lex is working with Leviathan, and they are going to...”

“Lena.”

“...use Obsidian to do something terrible...”

“Lena.”

“...using the system I made with my project. I didn’t know I was helping them, but I did. And now...”

“Lena.”

“...Now I want to help stop them, so...”

“For Rao’s sake.”

“...please, okay? I want to help stop Lex and Leviathan.”

“Are you done?”

It was the impatience she could hear in Kara’s voice that made her look up. She had expected Kara to be mad at her, but she wasn’t expecting the blonde to sound so... done. When she looked up, though, all tears rolling down her cheeks and sobs being barely contained, she saw that Kara had a tiny smirk on her lips. The blonde had turned her body to better look at her and she had now an arm draped at the back of the stool beside her while she rested her chin on her other hand.

For a second, a terrifying second, Lena thought it was over. Then, Kara sighed, pulled the stool back and gave it a soft pat. “Sit down, will you?”

Lena didn’t know if she should ask what was going on, scream or cry even more. Instead of doing any of those things, she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and tried to order her heart to stop beating so goddamn loud. When she opened her eyes again, Kara was filling a second mug with hot water and she could no longer hold a thousand myriad of emotions swirling inside.

She allowed herself to cry, then. Allowed a year of bottled-up emotions to escape and take over. Allowed the pain to be known. Allowed it all to be felt.

She was not expecting to feel Kara’s arms warmly embracing her into a tight hug. It didn’t stop her from resting her cheek on Kara’s shoulder or hugging her back just as hard. It also didn’t stop the tears, but that was okay. She knew she could trust Kara to have her back while she wasn’t strong enough to do it herself.

“We will figure it out,” Kara whispered on top of her head where she was resting her chin and Lena didn’t doubt for a second that she meant it.

“Do you hate me?” she asked lowly, not bothering to raise her voice.

“No,” Kara’s reply came fast and certain. “I don’t think that hating you would be easier than loving you either.”

And when Kara kissed the top of her head, Lena finally felt it. The fireworks she heard about in the romantic cliches Kara made her watch. She felt the fireworks and she felt the heat of the sun. She felt the tingles and the butterflies. She felt safe, maybe for the first time in her life.

“We will figure it out,” Kara whispered again and, this time, Lena knew she was talking more than Lex, and Leviathan and Obsidian, and every other mistake in between.

“We will figure it all out.”

#supercorp #supergirl #kara x lena #lena x kara #kara danvers #lena luthor #melissa benoist #katie mcgrath #fic #ao3 #fanfic #one-shot #oneshot #romance #love #panic attack

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jellojolteon · 4 years ago

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“Your quirk is so strong! Do you wanna be a hero when you grow up?” “Kid, we could really use a quirk like yours.” “Your quirk is incredible! Why aren’t you doing the hero track?!” “I wish I had a quirk like yours...” “Our local quirk registry office is having a guest from the Department of Heroic Affairs and you have been specially selected to attend...”

Cecil deletes the email and tries to shove down all the vignettes of his life that resurface with those words. He can’t outrun it, he never has, and at twenty eight he figures he never will.

Everyone idolizes superheroes, the hardworking folks trying to make sure that people who would try to use their quirks to get ahead in the system are put back in their place. You turn on the news, and half of the time block is dedicated to the local, the regional, the national, and even sometimes the international incidents that have been resolved with thanks to their “brave heroes”. Cecil guesses that’s to be expected-- it is news, after all, and it’s not like he lives in a world where he can’t just go read an article on the internet about the other things that are happening in the world- new scientific advances, political agreements, trade, the economy, whatever.

But it still makes him wince, because every week it feels like someone new worms their way into his life to comment on his quirk. He vacated his personal account years ago, after one too many guilt-tripping messages about how “You could be out there saving lives, and yet you’re just some pencil-pusher” from a regular stranger who knew nothing about his life and nothing about him outside of his quirk.

Cecil Knox. Quirk: Nitromancy. Can freely manipulate the atomic structure of nitrogen to create any desired object.

That was as far as most people were willing to see. They didn’t care that he enjoyed watching television and boating in his spare time, or that it was a personal tradition of his to go to a baseball game in June just for an overpriced hot dog and a beer, or that he always wanted a collie but was allergic to dogs. For some reason a popular icebreaker was always “What’s your quirk?” on dates and he wished he could just blend in so he could instead go on quirkless dating sites and not have it come up. It’s not even that he hated his quirk, really, but it seemed to serve to get in the way. People made judgements about strong quirks like his that he really rather wished they wouldn’t. No, he wasn’t a vigilante. No, he never wanted to be a hero. Yes, he could probably make a person out of nitrogen if he wanted to, no he wasn’t going to try but he might turn the air at your neck into a mosquito if you kept asking questions. It was bad in college. The antidepressants were for the symptoms, but whenever he went to the specialists it was always the same song and dance: “Do you have issues controlling your quirk?” “No.” “Do you have issues with the appearance your quirk gives you? Cosmetic suppressants are expensive and have side effects too but if you want--” “No, I’m okay with my appearance. It’s just the actual quirk.” The doctor would invariably pause, and look up from the clipboard-- “Well we are typically only allowed to prescribe quirk suppressants to those experiencing an inability to control their quirk where it causes distress or a potential for harm. I could refer you to a therapist--” (He wonders if there’s anything he can do to look more the part of “Distressed.”)

Or, God forbid, if they were the proselytizing type: “You have no idea how many people wish they were as lucky as you! There’s not a whole lot I can do for you. Have you considered doing hero work or perhaps becoming a volunteer with your quirk?”

It took him until he was twenty six to find a doctor who would just give him the damn suppressants. “The side effects are novel for everyone, but I think we can get away with a reasonably low-strength prescription. Based on your files, I would expect that for you, the suppressants will likely limit your range to a few meters or perhaps a certain size of object that you can create.”

He would kiss the woman’s feet if it was socially acceptable of him to do, and if her feet were not completely nonexistent.

“Oh, aren’t you that guy who can create anything from nitrogen? What a powe-”

“Ah, that’s just a rumor. I can’t create anything with more mass than a baseball, or I get a terrible migraine.”

“Well, that’s a shame.” (No, it’s not.)

“Geeze, what are those horse pills for?”

“I had a serious injury when I was younger, these are the pain meds,” he’d lie through his teeth.

The government still tries to recruit him every month, but at least now whenever he’s introduced to new people at business meetings he can ask them about their favorite restaurants and talk about the potential for collaboration instead of having a fifteen minute span of time where he’s asked obnoxious personal questions in front of a group of twenty people. And really, waking up a little more corporeal than he’s used to is an absolute steal for that peace of mind. ... The tragedy of Cecil is that for people like him it doesn’t ever permanently get better, and he’s always going to have to wade through the muck of something he didn’t want. The quirk suppressants mostly just serve as a tool to help him learn how to lie and stop giving people the opportunity to ask him questions he’s tired of being asked. But I think that he learns and maybe even one day goes off the suppressants, even as his quirk just keeps getting stronger with age, and he learns to live a happy life working around the lot he drew. Even if it still takes a lot of maintenance therapy lol

#bnha oc #jello's word vomit #jello's art farts #bnha #mha #please don't say he looks like xyz I can't handle that today and nor can he :(

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elizawright · 4 years ago

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Other Experiences

Interviews with other women with Aspergers

Source: Aspergers Uk Facebook Community

I noticed while being on the group most of the participants were men backing up the statistics that majority of the Aspergers community are male. This backs up my own theory that women find it harder to get diagnosed as majority of what doctors associate as “Aspergers Characteristics” come from male representatives. A good point from somewhen else in the group suggested that it also comes from the fact women are better at masking.

First Interview

Below is an interview I conducted with a lovely lady called Lauren, it was a very interesting read and supported what I already believed to be true through my own experiences. Women with autism are rarely represented in the media and struggle to get diagnosis or support from others as they show different characteristics to the majority of the Aspergers community:

Q. When were you diagnosed with Aspergers?

A. Feb 2009 age 13 nearly 14

Q. Did you find it difficult to get the diagnosis?

(Quite often women with Aspergers are refused diagnosis as they don’t show what doctors perceive as “characteristics”)

A. it was difficult and took about 8 appointments to get a diagnosis as lot of signs/traits were interlinked with other conditions I already had diagnosed

Q. Name 3 things positive about your Aspergers

(Eg, it makes me more creative)

A. I'm strict with time (not been late once), very well organised and creative

Q. Do you feel there is enough positive female autism Representation in the media? If no, how do you think we can improve? If yes, please provide an example?

A. No I was diagnosed with mental health before I had my diagnosis and a lot of people say to women because you can do eye contact or you have empathy/show emotions that they are not autistic when they are. People need to remember women are naturally brought up to be more mature/grown up then men so we learn things sooner than men would.

Q. List 3 things you struggle with? What could nurotypical people do to help change this?

A. Going out to busy/crowded places, meeting new people/socialising with new people and changes especially to routine. Neurotypical people should be taught about autism in school so less bullying happens and more support can happen even simple things like structured routine or explaining something in a different way or putting it into a real life prospect.

Q. Is there anything else you would like to add?

A.People need to realise that autism is a invisible disability and there isn't a certain look like down syndrome. People also need to remember that autism is different in every person so just because one person with autism is aggressive it doesn't mean everyone is going to be aggressive. Finally to remember autism comes in different levels and severities so one person with autism could live independently with a little bit of support while another person with the same diagnosis might need 24 hour care and support

Second Interview

Another lovely lady called Sophie bravely answered two of the questions for me:

Q. Is there anything else you would like to add?

A. I feel autism is based more around men. The way this could be improved is if people were more aware that autism can affect both males and females

Q. Did you find it difficult to get the diagnosis?

A. I didnt actually get diagnosed until I was 19 but I went to John Parkes when I was younger as ny mum thought I was different but they only said I am left handed but use ny right hand so it was left at that until I was 19 and my mum started working in a school and realised that I did a lot of the things that an autistic child at the school did

Third Interview

Lastly was a very helpful interview by a lovely lady called Ebony. I felt the most connection with Ebonys answers, pretty much everything she said I could relate to, specifically the struggle our mothers had to get a diagnosis, the miss belief in diagnosis of you don’t fit the stereotypes and the frustration with the lack of positive female representation.

Q. When were you diagnosed with Aspergers?

A. I was diagnosed at 8/9 years old

Q. Did you find it difficult to get the diagnosis?

(Quite often women with Aspergers are refused diagnosis as they don’t show what doctors perceive as “characteristics”)

A. My mother found it difficult to get me an assessment to get diagnosed because I have a genetic condition which they wanted to overshadow autism under. Even though they’re totally unrelated. She fought in court for two years before I was granted a full assessment

Name 3 things positive about your Aspergers

(Eg, it makes me more creative)

3. Aspergers makes me more observant. Aspergers allows me to focus specifically on and learn things really easily with things which I am really interested in, in detail, which is really useful for my degree. And Aspergers makes it easy for me to process visual information

Q. Do you feel there is enough positive female autism Representation in the media? If no, how do you think we can improve? If yes, please provide an example?

A. Absolutely not. Autism seems to be very much represented by men with the very typical characteristics (Big bang theory and atypical prime examples). I think there needs to be more female influencers who are on the spectrum speaking about it and also in movies, using autistic female characters as the main character instead of male

Q. List 3 things you struggle with? What could nurotypical people do to help change this?

A. Change. I guess just not changing things would be helpful but I think that’s just the way of the world.

People thinking I’m not on the spectrum because I’m not good at maths or science and I don’t have a breakdown every two minutes. Not assuming the stereotypes are true in everyone. My very black and white way of thinking. Sometimes this gets in the way of being able to think perceptively, as hard as I try, it can be very hard to understand why something is the way it is.

Interview 4

Interview with a lady who would like to stay anonymous. She has a very interesting story and in the past has done lots of work studying Aspergers in women.

Q. When were you diagnosed with Aspergers?

A. 2007

Q. Did you find it difficult to get the diagnosis?

(Quite often women with Aspergers are refused diagnosis as they don’t show what doctors perceive as “characteristics”)

A. I had anxiety n depression off n on for years. Worked as a advocate an had an abusive partner and it became worse. I went to a gp after reading about the condition and was dismissed by the gp. I took anti depressants n they made me feel so bad. Weight gain, hailing beginning to fall out n head felt like a racing feeling. Went back n was referred for cbt n refused to take meds as suicidal thoughts listed as side affect, which was happening. Went for cbt the lady had an autistic son. She picked up on traits n did n assessment n referred me to psychologist. I think I was quite lucky in my journey, in terms of a diagnosis. My mum said she always knew but she was always on meds. I’m not a fan on medication - personally

Q. Name 3 things positive about your Aspergers

(Eg, it makes me more creative)

A.1. I stopped hating or comparing myself to neuro typical people and what they do so easily.

2. It was ok to be different and I wasn’t stupid

3. I started to see myself and my traits and enjoy being me. If that makes sense

Q. Do you feel there is enough positive female autism Representation in the media? If no, how do you think we can improve? If yes, please provide an example?

A. I think when people are shown autism they are often shown the extreme. I watched a programme on the bbc about people with asperges and I couldn’t c myself in any of them. People always think of Chris Packham but we too are all v different as are NTs. The only other female I know of is Susan Boyle who was exploited in some way. But I believe she’s had support now and on the up bless her

Q. List 3 things you struggle with? What could nurotypical people do to help change this?

A. Too many people

Eating around strangers

Bright lights

In terms of how Nts could help is tough. I’m used to not having help so can be hard saying I’ve got a disability n then dealing with people’s preconceptions or struggling without help. Mentor ship in terms of study n maybe work place could be good.

Interview 5

This interview is another who would like to be kept anonymous, their family is very judgmental of their diagnosis therefor they don’t openly disclose their name.

Q.When were you diagnosed with Aspergers?

A. I was diagnosed in 2013, aged 36

Q. Did you find it difficult to get the diagnosis?

(Quite often women with Aspergers are refused diagnosis as they don’t show what doctors perceive as “characteristics”)

A. I was fortunate in that the clinical psychologist who diagnosed me was a specialist in the female autustic phenotype, which made the diagnostic process easier.

Q. Name 3 things positive about your Aspergers

A. Three positive things about Asperger's:

I stand in solidarity with my autistic kids, and understand them better

The way I think makes me good at writing essays

I think autistic people find greater joy in small things than neurotypicals.

Q. Do you feel there is enough positive female autism Representation in the media? If no, how do you think we can improve? If yes, please provide an example?

A. Autism in the media is usually male, which influences women's ability to get diagnosed and get help. There is a small but persistent push my autustic women to make autistic women and girls more visible, and we need to keep building on that

Q. List 3 things you struggle with? What could nurotypical people do to help change this?

A. I struggle with practical things, like maintaining a routine, using public transport, and following directions. Neurotypicals can help by recognising female autism, and simply being kind

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drwhirlwind · 6 years ago

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AS PROMISED, here’s a plotting call ! mutuals, please give this post a like if you’re interested, and i’ll fly right on into your IMs / discord dms, if that’s what you prefer. but! i thought it might be nice to put some starter points for us to work off, so that’s coming below! obviously, our plots don’t have to be limited to these ideas, and they’re simple because they’re only starter points and can be reused for many, many situations.

for out of fandom blogs, i will make aus / verses! as sho is my oc, i can pretty much fit him into any scenario. he was just originally built for bnha -- that’s all. as long as i know a bit about your fandom (which i probably do, if i’m following you), i’m all for working out details and setting something up so we can go wild.

TLDR OF HIS ABOUT: in his main verse, kobayashi sho is a renowned strategist and aerodynamics specialist, with a phd in physics. he’s twenty nine years old. his quirk is air manipulation and while he isn’t much to look at in terms of pure strength, he’s incredibly precise with a very difficult to control quirk. he’s on a pro hero team called the elementals, and he probably has a reputation for being kinda hard to work with, but all the same, a very significant asset to any team. can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em.

just a note that in pretty much any situation, he’s a lot to take in. high energy, loud, ridiculous, and a little... just, bizarre as a person, but his heart’s in the right place.

HERES HOW TO SPRINKLE A LIL’ BIT O’ WHIRLWIND IN YOUR LIFE: REAL DOCTORS HATE HIM!

MENTORSHIP.

this is probably the category that most students will fall under. please note, i also have a verse where he’s actually a teacher at u.a -- but that is not my main! please specify if you want that instead.

internships. the elementals absolutely take on interns, and he absolutely will terrify the life out of them. just kidding -- he’s not so bad! he really, truly, genuinely wants to help young heroes grow to be the best they can. he’s probably difficult to train under, but some of his tips are pretty useful, i’d imagine!

he takes especially well to those with elemental type quirks, but he’s really not picky.

he definitely will have about 100 proteges. can’t have just one. every single one of them will be regarded as baby whirlwind.

teacher verse. so! he probably doesn’t teach a hero specific course, actually; i was thinking he’d not mind teaching physics for general ed. that said, he’s not against tutoring after class, or quirk mentoring. he spent the last 15 years studying and incessantly studying to learn how to utilize his abilities, and he’s eager to help others do the same. be your best self!

COLLEAGUES.

not going to lie to y’all -- i am really dying for interactions with fellow pro heroes, if only because there is... so much we could do.

former classmates. based on his age and the fact that he attended U.A, if your muse is around the same age group, it’s possible they went to school together! maybe they were friends, maybe they didn’t get along at all. make sure you let me know if you want them to go way back though, because he’s changed very significantly over the years. for frame of reference, he was a first year when eraserhead and present mic were third years.

i’m going to be real with you. if your muse worked with him, there’s a very real chance they like, hate him. noting from his about, his cooperativeness is a whopping 2. he’s managed not to get fired this far in, but he absolutely has gotten into trouble with authority. he is extremely difficult to work with. a genius, but like, the worst. he’s great for coming up with strategies, but super doesn’t care if anyone thinks it’s a bad idea.

all of that said, though, he could be worse -- as a person, he really is very polite ( very rarely does he not use honorifics ), and like, pretty charismatic, all things considered. he has a pleasant demeanor and he’s nothing if not hardworking.

there has to be at least one person who’s questioned why the fuck he is named doctor when he isn’t one. well, okay -- he has a phd, but he got that well after he decided his hero name at age fifteen, and got it to justify the hero name. also, he wears a medical doctor’s lab coat, so, pretty misleading. he will always tell a lie.

FRIENDSHIPS!

as friendly and ( frankly, overbearingly ) outgoing as he is, there are very few people who are privy to less superficial side of him. i don’t mean to say that he puts on a show, because he doesn’t -- not on purpose? but he definitely has the capacity to be lax, understanding, and compassionate. he’s a great listener once he shuts up about all the literal nothing he’s ever talking about, and he’s like... he’s a weird guy, you know? and a bit of a mystery, i think -- tells a lot of bizarre stories and unnecessary ( but obvious, and never really malicious ) lies, but... you know. whatevs.

they could be childhood friends, but again; the sho they’d know now and then are two very different people, even if that isn’t particularly obvious.

he’s really outgoing, so he could’ve met your muse anywhere. at a bar, at the park, clubbing ( yeah, dr whirlwind clubs ), in the tree in your backyard, literally just walking on air in front of you because he can -- you name it, he’s there. where a friendship or acquaintanceship leads from there is pretty open ended.

he runs a podcast that airs really, really late at night. it’s super weird. i don’t know what else to tell you. it’s just him talking about whatever is on his mind? i’d love for there to be one brave soul who listens to it.

partners in crime. people he can vibe with. probably people he should never be in the same room with. that kinda thing.

people to annoy. he’s a menace. kind of endearing though? i can imagine he has a lot of begrudging friendships. like, they don’t actually hate him but like -- they make the soul eater excalibur face when he’s mentioned.

ROMANCE?!?!?!?!

so, obviously, i’m all in for this -- but there are a couple of things to understand first. a couple of provisions, if you will. he’s very difficult. i’ve said it before, but i mean... emotional connection is a big point in any long term relationship, and while he has a lot of great qualities in a boyfriend, he also has some not great ones. the main one being -- it’s very hard to get him to be real with you, and hard for him to be real. anyways though.

one sided crushes. probably going to be a lot of these!! ofc, let me know if you’re not into it, but he’s pretty notorious for crushing hard and frequently on like... uh, everyone.

he’s very, very, very flirty. he’s so flirty.

friends with benefits. obviously, this only goes for adult muses and muns because of the implication of that, but... y’know. i feel like this also doesn’t need to be explained.

one night stands. same thing as above. but -- so, like... i don’t think he’s really sleazy about it? it could definitely create some awkward future situations of if-they-meet-again, but i don’t think he’d necessary ghost anyone either.

dating. good luck

i’m just kidding -- i really would love some ships for him, actually; i think he cares very hard and very deeply, and he’s like... a little emotionally repressed ( very ), but he’s workin’ on it.

#what do you have? a knife! ✦ ooc.#this is long winded but. i put so much... into it please . Please lets plot i Love to Plot #at the very least ya gotta feel for me... imagine trying to sell something called Doctor Whirlwind

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ellanainthetardis · 6 years ago

Photo

Will Haymitch live? Only one chapter left after this one! Let me know your thoughts!

{ff] or [ao3]

79. 3 years & 2 years (3)

Haymitch had come to hate his hospital room with a passion and he had a newfound admiration for Effie given the months she had spent stuck in a smaller one. They had been in the city for three weeks now and for two of them he had been trapped in that hospital bed, forced to wear pajamas all day while his replacement liver grew and to stare at the children’s drawings his wife had tapped to the walls.

It wasn’t a bad room as far as hospitals went but it was, maybe, even worse because it reminded him a lot of the Games Clinic. The clinic was destined to wealthy patients and it showed. There was a huge flat screen TV facing the bed, blue curtains on the windows, a comfortable couch in the corner and the staff was dedicated to make his stay the best experience possible. The nurses were nice, he could admit that. He just hated being vulnerable and helpless under their care.

He was still unconvinced this was the right thing to do but, as Effie had pointed out numerous times, it was the only viable option they had.

He would give that to Elindra, when she did something, she didn’t do it in half.

They had barely set one foot inside the Trinkets’ house three weeks earlier that she had whisked them out again so he could meet his new doctor who, as it turned out, was Panem’s specialist when it came to liver troubles. Haymitch would have preferred to go on with Larcher but the professor wasn’t too bad – he couldn’t afford to be given how much the clinic was coasting them – he had answered Haymitch’s and Effie’s questions and had put most of his fears about mutt technology to rest. This was routine to him, he had said.

It was routine to everyone in that place except to him and his family.

He had spent their first week in the city with his kids. There was a lot of press attention but that was inevitable and it had eased a little after the first couple of days – thanks, he was sure, to Plutarch. He hadn’t let that stop him and he had taken the kids out to the fair and the park and every place in the Capitol he could bear to go.

He had been adamant he didn’t want the children in the clinic, not even for a visit. Effie had tried to change his mind but had eventually relented, aware that he didn’t want them to see him stuck to a bed, his health deteriorating with every new day. They had had a perfect week – or as close to perfect as it would get – and he wanted them to keep that image of him.

It didn’t mean they didn’t ask after him and cried for him every day – that, he knew from Elindra since Effie wouldn’t tell him to spare his feelings. .

Effie wasn’t faring very well either but she was always steadfast when it came to times of crisis and she dealt with it the only way she knew: with schedules, lists and an over-the-top cheerfulness.

Katniss and Peeta were doing their best to sound unworried too. They called ever night, like clockwork, to tell him about what had happened in Twelve that day – little, as it always turned out – and update him on the geese and Snowball and the kittens. They were terrified and anxious for the whole thing to be over and nothing told him that like the last phone call the night before the transplant surgery was scheduled.

“I love you.” Katniss said quickly, her voice strangely strangled. “Please, don’t die.”

She handed the phone back to Peeta before he could answer and he cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the lump that was stuck there. “Take care of her, yeah?”

“Always.” Peeta promised with far too much solemnity. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Sure thing.” He forced a smirk but his tone wasn’t as detached as he would have liked. “And, boy…”

“No goodbyes, Haymitch.” the kid refused. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

He had thought that phone call would be the hardest, he should have known better. Because nothing was worse than the procession of Trinkets standing at the foot of his bed the next morning and the glances they kept throwing at the clock.

The clock, he knew from experience, wouldn’t stop ticking and, too soon, the nurses would come and take him away so the professor could cut him open and replace his busted liver with a brand new one.

Effie wouldn’t stop fretting.

She kept fixing the blankets to make sure he was warm enough, kept trying to pat his pillows, kept fiddling with her butterfly necklace…

Half an hour before the nurses were supposed to come fetch him, he cleared his throat. “You mind giving me and Tadius a moment?”

Effie frowned but Elindra’s sharp gaze darted between him and her daughter with a keen understanding of what he might want to discuss with his father-in-law.

“Of course not!” the Capitol exclaimed with far too much enthusiasm, nudging Effie toward the door. She briefly paused to awkwardly pat Haymitch’s hand on their way out. “Everything will be perfectly fine, you will see. Professor Torton is the very best and if he fails to fix you we will sue him for everything he is worth. It should be enough incentive for him to save you.”

“Mother!” Effie hissed.

Haymitch chuckled. He wasn’t sure if she had meant to comfort him with that but Elindra would never completely change and he had grown somewhat fond of her Capitol quirks. Even more so because he suspected she was only saying those insensitive things to distract Effie. He squeezed her hand before she managed to usher his wife out of the room and the look they shared was self-explanatory.

They would never really understand each other but they were family now, for better or for worse. Hell, he had even learned not to mind calling her Mother in the last couple of years. Well… Not too much, at least.

“I know what you might wish to ask me…” Tadius said as soon as the door had closed behind the two Capitols. “… and you do not need to worry, Haymitch.”

“If the worst happens…” he insisted – because he had to think about it.

If he died on the table, Effie would find herself with enough money to leave comfortably with her dressmaking business but not much more. Almost all their savings had gone into this…

And her family had let her down once already.

“If the worst happens, Effie and the children will be taken care of.” his father-in-law promised, awkwardly patting his leg over the blanket.

“It’s not only them I’m worried about.” he sighed. “Katniss and Peeta…”

“Are just as much Effie’s children as April and Aidan. Elindra and I accepted that years ago.” Tadius cut him off. “We won’t leave them to fend for themselves either.”

He nodded, a little relieved to hear it. “I have a will. And the house’s deed is in the study. You know… In case Effie needs it.” He licked his lips and averted his eyes. “If I kick the bucket… I’m sure they’re gonna want to make a spectacle of the funerals… Don’t let them, alright? I want something simple in Twelve. Just family.”

Tadius cleared his throat, obviously ill-at-ease. “I am certain Effie already knows…”

“She does but if I don’t make it…” He shook his head. “She’s strong. She’s gonna bounce back but she’s gonna need help to do stuff. I don’t want her… I don’t…”

He let that sentence trail off. The simple thought of losing Effie was crushing. He had spent too many months dreading it when she was pregnant with Aidan. He knew exactly how he would have felt if he had lost her, he knew he wouldn’t have been able to function for a long time – if ever again – and Effie loved him just as much as he loved her. He couldn’t imagine any scenario in which she didn’t fall apart if she were to lose him.

“I will take care of her, Haymitch.” the man promised again. “I will take care of them.”

“Not just with money, yeah?” he requested. “’Cause the kids… They’re gonna have Peeta but he’s a boy still. You’re gonna need to step up, Tadius.”

The man stared at him, his face a blank mask of resolve. “I know you are scared but everything will be alright. This is routine to those people. I promised Effie the best and I found the best. They will fix you up and you will be back home in a tic.”

Haymitch hoped he was right, he dearly hoped it. But luck hadn’t always been on his side and he would rather be safe than sorry.

“I’m glad I got to know you.” he offered with a smirk. “Won’t lie, I think you were an asshole to Effie for most of her life but you’ve really improved with age.”

Tadius seemed torn between being offended and amused. In the end, amusement won and he flashed Haymitch a rare smile. “Do not tell Leo but you are my favorite son-in-law. Now… I will see you after your surgery. I will send Effie in, shall I?”

He nodded his assent and forced himself to get a grip. He needed to be strong for her because he would be damned if the last image she would keep of him was him being scared to death of his own end.

He saw straight through the brave face and the blinding smile she was wearing when she stepped inside, closing the door behind her as if she wanted to shut the world out. That was her escort’s face, a face he hadn’t seen in a very long time. One he had hoped to never see again.

“It won’t be long now.” she hummed, as if they were talking about an appointment at the coffee shop with the Clarkes instead of a life altering surgery.

He slipped his wedding band off his finger, not quite surprised when it came off without much difficulties. He had lost some weight. “You keep that safe for me, yeah?”

She took it from him and stared at it for a few seconds before slipping it on her thumb. “I will give it back to you tonight.”

“You do that.” he smirked, holding out his hand, palm up. She took it with an even more forced smile. He squeezed her fingers. “There’s no use to you sticking around the clinic all day. Go home and play with the kids, okay?”

She shook her head. “I am staying. Lyssa is taking all the children to Capitol Park.”

He scowled but didn’t insist. She could out-stubborn him any day.

“Look… I know you don’t want to hear it, sweetheart…” he hesitated.

“There won’t be any sort of goodbyes.” she warned. “I refuse to hear it. Everything will be fine.”

Her optimism had always irritated him and, while today was no exception, he made an effort not to let it show. “Just in case. I wrote letters… To the kids. For when they’re older. They’re in the drawer.” He nodded to the nightstand. “And…”

“No, Haymitch.” she cut him off, her mask of cheerfulness melting away. “Please, do not do this to me. We will die when we are extremely old and not before. We will have a whole full life together.”

“Just tell the kids I love them.” he insisted. “Make sure they know.”

“They do know.” she whispered. “We all know.” She jutted her chin higher in the air and blinked away the tears. “Which is why you are going to survive this. You better give me your token. I do not think they will allow you to wear it in the operating room.”

His eyes darted to the golden bangle around his wrist. It was strange how he was sometimes aware of his wedding band but had gotten so used to the bangle that he had stopped noticing it altogether. He had completely forgotten he was even wearing it. It was stranger still to let her take it off and to watch it bounce around her own wrist once she had put it on.

The knock on the door came too soon.

When the nurses walked in, there was still a thousand things he wanted to tell her.

“I love you.” he murmured.

It summed it all up, after all, didn’t it?

“I love you too.” she whispered, leaning down to press a desperate kiss to his lips.

She held his hand all the way to the door and then was forced to let go. The last image he had of her was her face crumbling into deep worry. He caught a glimpse of her parents’ faces as the gurney was rolled past them, he answered Elindra’s fake encouraging smile with a wink and then he closed his eyes and tried not to panic too much. He hated being helpless, he hated the thought that he would be out for the count while someone rummaged inside his body, but he was pretty sure he would hate being dead even more.

It was all very anticlimactic. They rolled him in an operation room, prepared him for surgery and eventually hooked him up to something. He was asked to count down from one hundred, started getting dizzy after ninety-five and went under at ninety.

He had time to think that if that was how it ended, it wasn’t so bad. Painless, at least.

Pain came after.

Although he wouldn’t have been able to say how long after.

His eyelids fluttered opened but everything was blurry, voices were distorted and he didn’t fight to stay awake.

The next time he opened his eyes, everything was still blurry but he recognized Effie’s face towering over him. She was talking and crying but the words didn’t make sense, he couldn’t understand them. He tried to reach for her face but couldn’t lift his arm. He fell back asleep.

At last, he awoke to a clear world, with the beeping of machines in his ears and far less dizzy than previously. His body hurt, his stomach particularly, but the pain was dulled in a way that indicated the use of painkillers. He blinked a few times, moved his hand…

His fingers bumped against something soft that turned out to be Effie’s hair. She was slumped on a chair next to his bed, her upper body on the mattress, her head on her folded arms, sound asleep. He had to do a huge effort to brush the blond strands away from her face. She didn’t stir. He tried to call her name but all that came out of his mouth was a groan.

Dread gripped his guts. What if something had gone wrong and he was diminished now? The beeping to his left quickened and someone soon entered his line of sight.

Elindra must have been standing next to the window because he hadn’t seen her before.

“There you are.” she said in her usual brisk tone. She kept her voice low though and the glance she tossed Effie told him she didn’t want to disturb her daughter’s rest. “Sleeping for two days. Truly, Haymitch. You had us worried sick.” He tried to speak again, grunted something unintelligible and then licked his lips when he realized his mouth was parched. Elindra must have understood the problem because she hurriedly grabbed a plastic glass from the bedside table and guided the straw to his mouth. “Now, do not tell anyone I did this. It will not do to have them think I would do a good nurse.”

He chuckled but immediately winced when the pain flared in his torso. Was it supposed to hurt that much?

“How…” he tried, almost relieved to find he could form words when he wasn’t parched.

“It went tremendously well.” she promised, awkwardly patting his shoulder. “Professor Torton promised you were as good as new. Did I not tell you a thousand times those operations were routine to those doctors? Now, you will have to follow the prescribed treatment, of course, and you will not recover in a mere couple of days so there will be none of those stunts you and Effie like to pull. You will take the time to properly recover with us before wandering back to your District. I will hear no objection.”

And she probably wouldn’t.

“I’m good?” he croaked, his voice breaking for more than one reason. “I’m not gonna die?”

It was hard to tell with all the plastic in her face but he thought Elindra’s expression softened. “No, you are not going to die any time soon, Haymitch. You will see your children grow up.” He couldn’t help the smile and he didn’t even protest when the Capitol woman tentatively touched his fingers. He squeezed her hand without thinking twice about it. She cleared her throat, her voice a little rougher than usual. “You are truly one ridiculous reckless man, Haymitch. Must you be so attaching? Imagine that. You had me worried. I think I liked it better when I hated you.”

“Nah, you didn’t…” he mumbled with a smirk, squeezing her hand again. “Mother.”

She rolled her eyes, pursed her lips and clucked her tongue. “Effie is in a dreadful state. She has not moved from your bedside since they brought you back. Please, convince her to go home as soon as she wakes up. The children are asking for her.”

He nodded but fell asleep long before his wife actually woke up.

He wasn’t sure how long it lasted this time because when he woke up Elindra was gone and Effie wasn’t wearing the same clothes so he figured she had gone home at some point.

“Hey.” he smirked, his voice hoarse.

Her head darted up and her blue eyes immediately met his, her lips stretching in an impossibly bright smile.

“Hello.” she grinned.

“You’re beautiful.” he muttered because it was true. He hadn’t seen her look so glowing and happy since… He frowned. “Are we pregnant again?”

She frowned too, her smile slowly fading. “They promised me you were completely fine. Did the anesthesia broke your brain? I read it could happen…”

He thought that over for a second, his thoughts jumbled by the painkillers he was still hooked to. “Don’t think so. Might be high though. Can’t be sure. It’s been a while.”

Her lips twitched and she brushed her fingers against his cheek. “You did it. You survived.”

“So we can go home?” he asked hopefully. He was sick and tired of the hospital.

“Soon.” she laughed, sounding so happy he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her and never stop. “We can go home and live the rest of our lives.”

That sounded so good…

The rest of their lives…

He couldn’t wait.

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #april showers

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r95irth · 7 years ago

Text

Mimi Todoroki

Here is the text I promised to fit Mimi in the better care universe. There are a lot of angst at the beginning as I took the time to give a context. Mimi’s birth move the twin’s from year one to year 3 and the second daughter for a couple of year too. I will rewrite those scene in the upcoming days. For now, enjoy the One-shot. I hope you’ll like it.

@gunnigun this is for you too =) I hope you’ll be okay with it Xo It is quite long. But here is your “poison” (since gift is poison in German apparently ? XD)

Momo and Shouto had been trying to have a baby for almost three years now. A lot of their friends repeated that they were young, and had all the time in the world for that. And normally Momo would have agreed with them. They were only in their twenties, after all, and they had a lovely adopted son who was making their everyday life as great as tiring. But she was anxious. It was not the conception that gave them trouble but keeping the baby She already had two miscarriages. One was an accident, she didn’t even knew she was pregnant when a battle against a villain got awry. She was lucky that her friends were there to help and evacuate her. So when she got pregnant again she had been very careful, and made sure to eat healthy things, staying safe from harm. It didn’t work either the baby was pronounced dead in the first ultrasound.

Momo was beginning to think that she was at fault. (Maybe she was steril? Maybe it was her quirk fault? Maybe she was not fit to be a mother…) Shouto always comforted her when she began to doubt but it was getting harder and harder to actually hear his kind words.

They wanted to build a family of their own. (Of course, Shouto repeated that they already were, with Satoru, and that they could just adopt again) but they couldn’t because of her. She had tried to imagine a future without kids too, with only Shouto by her side and their work as heroes. It left her a bitter feeling under her tongue. They wanted a large family (Shouto couldn’t hide it from her, and she kind of wished to have at least three kids too, as she grew up as an only child and missed having siblings). But they couldn’t because of her. Maybe Shouto would find someone else, someone who could bear his dream of a family when she couldn’t. (When she said that, Shouto had looked so horrified it hurt ; was she really the only one that would think of this as a possibility in their relationship ? Was she the type to go away when he would never even think about it?). In time like these, she felt so unworthy.

She was afraid to go see a specialist, only to hear the hard and unchangeable truth she was fearing. “You can’t have baby. You’ll never be able to.” She only got to a doctor, who recommended some easy treatment that could increase her chance. She took it and didn’t feel any difference : neither stronger or weaker.

That’s probably why, when she suspected being pregnant again, she didn’t say a word at first. She didn’t want to go through the happiness, then the deception, sadness and grief all over again.

It’s just until you’re sure you can keep it, she tried to convince herself, as the days passed by and that suspicion turned into certitude.

***

The last two year had been quite of hard for them, especially Momo. She had been stressed (more than usual) and sad no matter what Shouto had tried to cheer her up. They already knew how they grieved but that didn’t make it any easier. They both didn’t need to talk about it, especially hated empty word of support and words of comfort. But they hated to deny the tragedy even more. The balance was quite hard to keep. He had been walking on eggshells, trying not to talk about kid and pregnancy unless she talked about it first.

Shouto still recovered from it way quicker than Momo. The first pregnancy had been a surprise, they didn’t even try, and noticed before the baby was gone. One could think that you couldn’t miss what you didn’t know, but that one would be wrong. The loss of the possibility, the knowledge of a little being they would never meet ; it hurt. It hurt so bad. But that also permitted them to know they wanted children, that they were yearning to have it, despite their young age. Shouto tried to take the first loss that way ; he couldn’t say that it had been a helpful (it hurt thinking that) but at least, despite all the suffering that came with it, it had been one good point.

The second miscarriage however, had none. It only hurt and hurt. Momo had been so brave, putting up a facade in front of their friends and smiling to the press; but she had broken into tears more than once in his arms. This time they had planned it, they had imagined what their future would look like and they had names and expectations. Shouto had his heart broken both by the loss of the baby in the desperation of his wife. He hated not being able to comfort her, and he hated that they were nothing he could do, no word he could offer. He could only be there and share her pain in silence.

Satoru’s presence had helped a lot, in a lot of way. Unlike the children in the Peace program, who made Momo’s pain worsen every time she handled one, reminding her that she didn’t manage to keep her baby, Satoru was her son.

No matter what happened, he would forever be their son.

Shouto had tried many times to say that to her. Shouto didn’t mind her being sterile (if she was). He didn’t mind adopting kids, he even liked the idea. (He even tried to joke about it, saying that it would piss off Endeavor, but that didn’t make her laugh). Then seeing that nothing he could say or do would help, he stopped saying anything and started walking on eggshells.

That’s probably why when Momo started to vomit every morning for one week straight he didn’t pressure her. If she said it was a flue, then so it was. He still bought medications that were okay for pregnant women, just in case, so they would have not another tragedy on their hands.

He was sure that if Momo was pregnant, she would know, and so she would tell him, when she was ready.

***

Of course Momo couldn’t hide it for ever. Shouto already had some doubt. He was oblivious but pretty smart nonethless. But he didn’t push the issue on her, not even when she was sick every morning for a week straight. He accepted her excuse of a flue and went to buy some medications for her after work.

Satoru was harder to fool, with his power. But fortunately he was preparing his future at UA and had little to no-time off. They were gathering his stuff in order for him to move into UA dorms, since Shouto was totally not-motivated to do this (he was more unpacking things than packing), when the boy found a way to ask her:

-You’re going to tell him?

She put her hand on her mouth, to hide the way her lips twisted. It was useless since he could probably read her emotion, but Satoru was smart and he got the message:

-Okay, he simply said.

-I don’t want you to have hopes if…, she tried to say the word, but couldn’t mutter it.

Satoru nodded again.

-I understand.

They never talked about it again. Instead they wondered about the pet problem, how could Satoru would bring up his evil-rabbit with him at UA, and...no you can’t take the cat too Satoru, it’s the family cat! Think about Shouto, he will be miserable if the cat goes to UA too!

***

When Satoru went to UA, it was a hard blow.

Shouto always thought that having Satoru here helped Momo being better, but when the kid was gone he realized that he probably needed the kid more than Momo. He was the one coping.

He didn’t like the idea of Satoru being a hero (the job was too dangerous, and Satoru was so tiny and fragile and sweet and kind and his heart was so big he even wanted to save villains) but it was Satoru’s dream and Shouto couldn’t take that from him. He tried to convince himself that UA was safe (yeah, just like it had been when he was a student? Ah!). He tried to remember that Satoru had been through a lot and was stronger than he let it show (but that was all the most reasons to never let him endure anything more)!

In the end, no matter what he said, Satoru still left and Shouto took the absence so badly he didn’t think much of anything else for a long time.

***

She found Shouto in Satoru’s room, one evening of May, looking sad and lost, as he stared at the empty space that their son left. It was a hard sight to witness : the room with bare walls (no poster or photo left to live it up), no clothes scattered on the floor or any game forgotten on the bed… There was just nothing left to prove that Satoru had lived with them at some point. The kid had always been a rather calm and silent child, but it was a different kind of silence that was filling home now. One that screamed “something is messing, you’re all alone” without any sound. Shouto took Satoru’s absence worse than her, always looking for him when the conversation died down, or buying stuff the kid would have loved. It hurt Momo to no end to see him like this.

-I miss him, he simply said when she sat next to him on the bed.

-I’m sure he misses you too, she answered. -And he’s not that far, and has a lot of fun in UA.

Shouto didn’t answer, because he heard that many times before. It was the truth and he knew, but that didn’t change the fact that he missed his son. He missed having him under the same roof, he missed him eating dinner with him, talking to him, their movies nights or their family week-end at Peace office. Hell, he even missed having to recall to not slam the doors, telling him to held is back right, even bickering about the silly stuff like whose turn was it to do groceries shopping!

-Maybe we should go and see him at UA this sunday, Momo proposed as she hugged him.

-We already went to see him last week, we can’t just go every week, sighed Shouto. -Beside we embarrassed him last time we got there, he added (and Momo swore it was he was pouting).

Still Shouto was right but she didn’t know how to make him feel any better. The family cat (psycho-pattes) tried his best, asking for belly rubs, and purring as loud as he could, but Shouto scratched him only a couple of seconds before going back to sighing. She couldn’t stand seeing him like that, if it was in her power, she would make sure that he had a smile on his face every second of the day. And, fortunately it was in her power:

-Would you go to the doctor with me tomorrow?

She avoided Shouto’s gaze, blushing. Of course he didn’t worry about a possible flu, he had seen through her lies from the very beginning. Maybe did he understand her to even more than she thought since he only asked:

-You’re sure?

She only nodded. Yes, she was pretty sure already. She had been sure for a while now, and that was the reason she took every excuse to stay at Peace office, doing a lot more desk work than she needed, instead of going on the field. But yet, at the same time, she wasn’t so sure.

-I...I just want to check that they are...okay... this time, before starting to plan.N-no name until we’re sure they’re going to make it.

Shouto gave her a tiny bit of a smile, and took her hand in his, squeezing it tenderly.

-Okay. Let’s do that.

At least he had his mind elsewhere that the missing gap Satoru left behind. She didn’t know if she had been right to tell him yet. She felt like he deserved the truth, and that it could at least make him happy for a couple of hours. But she was also afraid to bring him even more misery after the check up.

***

Defeating villains? Easy. Going for a mission on the street? Even easier. Taking down a whole black market of human traffic? Not that fun but he already done that. He could do it again. Every year at UA he won the test of courage. He was just not often overwhelemed by fear. Anger, yes, anxiety and despair, less, but fear? No. Shouto was not afraid of a lot of things.

But going to the doctor with Momo, holding her hand as she started shaking, as they waited to know if the baby was safe and okay. Shouto had no control over this (and neither did Momo, despite what she thought), no enemy to fight, no guilty person to blame, and the only thing he could do was to handle symptoms of stress...That was truly terrifying.

***

But the doctor said that everything was okay. That the baby seemed healthy and even agreed on planning an ultrasound in the very same evening to ease the soon-to-be-mother’s worry. Shouto didn’t say a word, he just held her hand and squeezed it a little bit softer each time they got a good news. And there was absolutely no bad news. Momo couldn’t quite believe it, after the last two miscarriages she had been so sure that something was wrong. That it would never be right. And yet...Yet?

The risk was still there, but it had lessened quite a bit, said the doctor.

She still tried not to get attached too much, not to name the baby already, not trying to imagine them in the secrecy of her mind. She didn’t want to be hurt again. As they returned home, Shouto wanted to call Satoru, first but:

-Do you not want to tell him yet? He asked her before taking out his phone.

And the truth was she didn’t want to tell her friends, anyone, yet. She wouldn’t be able to face them if anything happened, and she lost the baby, and she would have to tell them again...No. Just no. But Satoru already knew that it was a possibility, though he had other things on his mind right now. So it was useless to hide it. Besides, apparently the kid was pretty worried too. When Shouto called him, he gave no time for small talks and went right through the point. Since he could feel their emotions through his power, it had been a roller coaster for him too.

The conversation could have been better though. The boy may not share Momo’s blood but he definitely was as much as a worrywart as she was. He even proposed to give his empty room for the baby, stating that there was not enough place home now. It was a fair point, that Momo thought before, when she had her first pregnancy (But she tried not to remember it) - so at least she had an answer for that:

-The neighbors are leaving their apartment, we could ask the landlord to actually rent their place too and make the place bigger.

She was being quite attached to this place, as it was the first one that was her and Shouto’s. The very first apartment she had her parent’s, but she didn’t stay long in it. She had all her memories here, they raised Satoru for five years here. Thinking of leaving hurt.

-We’ll find a way to make it work, don’t worry about it, i’ll call you back to give you news, said Shouto determined, as he hang up to Satoru.

Then he went back to the couch and wrapped his arms around Momo’s waist, leaving a track of peck on her neck.

-We’re going to make it work, he promised again, to her this time.

She wanted to believe him, and when he was speaking like this, it was actually really easy to do so.

The not-planning-part was fastly forgotten. She still managed to not name the baby yet, but that was her only victory. Shouto was exatic -in a very Shouto way, with a lot of focus lines and deadpanned face as he blunted sentence so sweet it could give diabete. And of course, the word of her pregnancy had spread to every single one of their friends. (Even Kouda who was working in Mt Fuji and Mezo who was currently working for a 3 months mission in singapor)! Shouto swore he was not responsible for this, and a few days later they indeed found out that the culprit was Mahô. Satoru’s best friend who couldn’t keep her tongue tied. Still the secret was out and before she knew it she was covered of gifts from her friends.

-I saw baby shoes while i was shopping and i thought of you immediately. Look how tiny they are! So cute! Squealed Tooru.

-And look at those tiny, tiny gloves i found? It’s going to be a winter baby right? So they need tiny gloves! Added Mina, even more enthusiastic.

-And a hat, looks at all those adorable hat in the store, we could gift the whole family cute animal themed hat, so you could all match, proposed Ochako.

-I took the same baby clothes in four different sizes, so no matter what they’re growth would be, you will always have something to put them on, declared Tsuyu.

-The most important part is to have a directive line with baby clothes, let me handle this, your baby will still be a brat, but at least he will rocks! Promised Jirou.

Even Aizawa one day arrived at Peace office and just dropped a cat onesie out of the blue (He said it was from All Might’s, but she had the feeling that it was a gift from both teachers, maybe even all UA teachers).

-We will need to start making the room, she said one evening, as she came home with her arms full of baby things from her friends. (She even had a baby seat for the car from Kirishima).

-Why? Wouldn’t the baby sleep in our room while they’re still small? Asked Shouto.

Their opinion clashed quite often on some subjects, as Shouto had been raised in a traditional japanese household, while she had parents who were often doing business all around the world and so, adapted to western customs. But she was still surprised by this idea:

-A kid needs a room to call their own, she said. -It’s good for their development.

-Yeah, but not baby, i mean, they’re so tiny, and they will need to be feeded every two hours and so, so it’s only logical to put a craddle in our room.

Yes, but putting a craddle in their room would also mean that the baby would be always with them, and that they wouldn’t be able to cuddle at night, and they would have to go to bed very early. No. She liked her evening cuddle session with Shouto. Just no. She had no doubt that she would love the baby and take every opportunity to kiss them, but some things were just out of question. Just as she would still be Momo Yaoyorozu, before being Shouto’s wife, she would still be Shouto’s wife before being the baby’s mother. Or maybe there was no “before” but more than “too”, anyways she would not back down on this:

-We’ll have very little time to sleep with a baby, she explained, and we still have heroes work to do, even as parents. We need to get some good rest and for that we need the option of putting the baby in another room.

-And let them cry alone?

-Yes Shouto. Remember All Might’s daughter when she was little? She cried for hours without a reason, and they was nothing they could do but let her.

Actually, they let her with Izuku, once, and the boy had called Shouto in tears, swearing that he loved his little sister -he really did- but she was crying non-stop for already five hours and he was tired and he was going to throw her by the window if someone didn’t stop him right now. (Which Shouto did. He took Izuku on a car-ride for half an hour, leaving the baby in her bed, and when they came back, she was still crying, but at least Deku didn’t want to throw her out of the window anymore). The argument seemed to won Shouto over, because he made a face and mumbled:

-Okay, fine. But the room must be close to ours.

They agreed on that compromise, and since it left him no choice, started to plan how to organize the house. She went to the landlord, and asked if it was possible to rent the apartment right next to their, which the old lady agreed immediately. She was quite a fan of heroes. They agreed on a overall rent -which was okay, the whole building was made in wood that made him very cheap to begin with, so they could afford it with both of their salary.

Jirou, when Momo told her everything, once again said that she was rubbingtheir power couple’s wealthyness to everyone’s face without meaning it. Momo knew she did that a lot, since she never had to worry about money (except when it was Peace office money), so she rarely bothered about prices. She rarely got restrained in her plans thank to it too. Having so many friends from different social standing, like Ochako or Izuku, made her realize sometimes how lucky she was.

Welcoming a baby into the family always cost a lot, and put a lot of person into troubles. Shouto and her had no such worries. Actually, once the problem of their apartment was solved, all they had left to do was to actually decorate their new-old-house to their liking.

***

Momo found a new passion in design. Or more accurately, she found a new game to fill her day with since she had less work to do. Since they were redesigning their apartment, she had decided to make it well. She went to see the mother of one of Satoru’s friend -an architect- and talked with Shouto’s mother -who had tried to have a degree but got pregnant with her first son before completing it. The three of them worked on some propositions that Shouto watched from afar, a little bit lost, yet very happy to see his wife and his mother getting along so well. All he asked for was to keep it a little bit japanese, since he was more comfortable in it. Oh and to keep Satoru’s room the same! Oh, and was it possible to have…

-You know why don’t you make a list of all the stuff you want? Proposed Momo. -Get some images of rooms you like, and i will do the same, and we will mix them at the end. Or at least get a little bit of both sides each time!

The idea was great, and thanks to that they agreed on overall atmosphere, which was half way through japanese traditional patterns, optimisation of space, and western modernism.

Izuku called it special, Ochako called it cute, Tsuyu called it “very like both of you”, Jirou called it hipster, Mei called it steampunk, Iida called it progressist, Aoyama called it “not shiny enough”, Bakugou called it shitty.

Momo and Shouto liked it, that’s all mattered in the end. At least on the plan. Because they had a lot of building to do, and they had to sell their old furnitures and buy some new ones too. They gave a lot to their friends, and went to several trip to stores.

Momo was determined to pay for almost everything at the beginning. But when they didn’t find what they wanted -it was not always the good size, or the right color- she got bored with stores hunting and used her power. “F-For training purpose!” She swore, blushing from head to toe.

Shouto didn’t mind or judge ; it was easier this way for them. And it did train Momo to create all kind of stuff she never made before. Like a Kotatsu. Or a fridge. (She was very eager about making a fridge). He just wished she could tell him when she planned to create something, because more than once he just walked in a room to find her very much naked.

Not that he didn’t enjoy the sight (she was the most beautiful girl in the world to Shouto’s opinion) but it was quite...Well disturbing. For their schedule. And, when they really started to customize their apartment, their friends started to visit. It would be troublesome for them to find her naked.

One of the advantage of Momo’s new found passion, was that it filled up their days. Shouto came back home tired after a day of work and would immediately start to help out making the baby room -or the living room, whatever they were on that evening. And as said earlier, their friends (and family, sometimes. His mother, Fuyumi and Momo’s parents especially) often came on Sunday to help out. Ochako especially, since she knew a lot about construction and was the most useful helper while tinkering. So Shouto stopped feeling like the house was too empty, and that time got slower. He still missed his son, Satoru, but at least didn’t feel the need to visit him at Ua every week-end anymore.

Of course, since it was the first time all of them tried something like this, they made a lot of mistakes. They did things not quite in the right order, painting ceiling after finishing the floor for example. And they were tired, so very tired. But...It was good to have the house full of laughs and bickering once again.

***

Satoru came back home during summer break, only to find his old house in an almost war state. He did had a summary of the last months by phone, and sometimes on sunday, when they came to see him...But knowing and seeing were two different things.

-Do you need me to help out with the construction? He asked, as Shouto and Ochako struggled over a particular part of the house, where pipes were exposed and had to be put back into norms and safe for a house with a baby. He wondered why they were the one handling it when Mei was affiliated to move heavy things around with Iida’s help. But after a moment of reflexion (and hearing May Saying that a flame thrower at the entrance ould be so cool) he understood why.

So he he took one of the drill that were laying on the ground and proposed his help (he would love to learn how to build things to be honest). He didn’t even have the time to push the button on before Shouto took it from his hands.

-No, he said, rather calmly but with no opening for absolutely no chance to protest. There were quite a few things that Shouto openly said no to the kid (Or Momo, or his friends). But when he did there was just no way to bargain. Apparently he didn’t like the idea of Satoru having a dangerous tool in his hand.

-Don’t worry, he did the same with me, and his mother and sister, comforted Momo when he told her what happened. -It’s not that he doesn’t trust you more like he…

There was a knocking sound and they heard Bakugou scream a full basket of curses and Iida apologizing on Mei’s behalf.

-Accidents happens quite often, she concluded as she already started creating some first aid kit.

Satoru didn’t say that he knew that -after all his power allowed him to know what was on people’s mind. But he also didn’t say to Momo that Shouto did not trust his wife with a dangerous tool. For two reasons : the first one, was that she was a weapon master that could create deadly things and that was as amazing as scary. The second reason was that she always had a bit of a clumsy side -missing a level, or a step- and that he didn’t want ther to be injured because of it. In the end, Satoru and Momo were pushed off, to the future baby’s room. They decided on the color -something genderless since they still had no name nor gender.

-You’re okay with all that stuff being done, but still not okay with choosing a name? He asked Momo, quite surprised.

He couldn’t help but put a bit of painting on her nose, so she rolled her paint roller on his face as a revenge. That only made him laugh, as he got a face as green as a troll. They were a bit scolded because the painting was not close to being done (But maybe they got a bit ambitious about it, doing stencils of animal on the walls...when none of them could actually draw).

-Yes. It’s just...Naming them it make them more real, it would be harder if…

Momo didn’t finish, she didn’t need to. But Satoru watched around, as the house was nothing but packs and almost finished-furniture, and work in progress. Surely, if anything happened, it was way too late to make it painless. But he didn’t say it ; what good would it do? Momo and Shouto were happy for now, and there was nothing he could do to protect the baby while it was still in Momo’s belly.

He looked at the woman he considered as his mother, and couldn’t help but smile at her growing profile.

-I don’t know if it comforts you, but...I can’t read the baby’s mind when i touch your belly.

Momo frowned, and for a second he saw a bit of panic on her face ;

-You could do that? I mean read the baby’s mind? Is that why you always guessed when i was expecting?

The kid bit his lips. The first time she had been expecting, he didn’t say it, or at least not openly ; he only acted happier and made some weird comments they didn’t get before it was too late. He had felt so guilty about it, that he stopped asking for a little brother and sister, even as a joke. It actually hurt Momo even more, witnessing people changing attitude because of her lost. But she didn’t know if she would have appreciated to see them act normally, as if nothing had happened too. So well. She supposed there was no good behaviour in those kind of situation. Anyways, Satoru shrugged and finally explained:

-Well, kind of. Since i could control you if had wanted, i had access to your brain. Your brain already knew you were pregnant so, whenever i checked something in, i just...it’s like a upload i suppose? I just knew the new stuff? And i kind of knew what state he was in?

Momo was puzzled. One part of her wanted to talk about it (Satoru said he, so that meant that the two baby she had lost were boys? Or just the first one, since the second one never actually lived?). But on the other part, she didn’t want to dwell on the past or make the kid uncomfortable with sad questions. She decided to make a compromise and still get on the subject while being optimistic:

-So...is my baby okay?

-Last time i checked, a couple of minutes ago, yeah. Developing well and all. Napping.

-Can know what the baby is feeling right now?

Satoru shook his head.

-No. Not anymore.

Momo couldn’t help but panic, and the boy immediately added:

-It’s a good thing! That means they are developing and becoming someone entirely new, someone i don’t know yet and so i can’t bond with and read the mind of! They’re a person now, so i can’t just check out your brain and know basic stuff about them!

Momo let out a sigh of relief, putting a hand above her heart. It didn’t stay long though, and immediately went down on her belly, shocked for a couple of minutes:

-They are?

One could think her question was nothing but an amazed comment over the fact, but Satoru knew better. It was more than that. Momo was amazed, yes, but she was above all relieved, because that meant that her baby was well, that they were alive, and growing and…

That one day she would be able to meet them.

***

Shouto felt so happy. Tired but truly happy. They had so many things to do that sometimes he felt like there were not enough hours in a day. He already felt that way in UA, when he had to take supplementary classes, but he didn’t remember enjoying it. This time it was quite different.

He loved having his friends over, helping to build the house. (The class could be split into two groups, the efficient builder, like Ochako, Sero, Bakugou or Iida, and the supportive team, with Izuku as the leader. Mei was out of the chart making them do a big progres only to blow things up the minute after.) He loved to see Momo and his mother, sister and her parents talking about the plan. He loved the way their home looked more and more everyday. And most of all he liked the future he could glimpse sometimes. When Satoru came back from UA he almost could see the full picture.

-Can you teach me how to build things too? Satoru asked, the first evening.

And though Shouto didn’t like the idea of him holding dangerous tool (not at all) he could not say no. He missed their father-and-son bonding moment too much. And, unlike when they tried to learn how to cook with Momo, Shouto could actually shine on this subject. He was the third best of their generation, just after Mei and Ochako.

Momo often looked at them, when they started giving him lesson. Shouto tried to propose her to participate, but she declined. It was their time and it was important for Satoru to know that he was not being replaced, she said. (She probably started reading psychology book again). During dinner, Satoru would always tell them how was Ua, describing his friends and his everyday at the school, while they did the same for their days of work. It was almost as if he never had left.

***

Satoru had to go to the training camp, and again left the house. Shouto complained a lot about that, and even tried to make him not go. Something about him having good grades, or that they could supervise his training as a heroes as well as Aizawa or All might at home, and when it didn’t work, how UA had a student that got kidnapped during one of this summer camp once.

-Are you fucking using me to be an even more disgusting doting father? Complained Bakugou when he heard that.

-I’m safe at Ua, you know, it’s not like when you were in it, the league of villain is not so bold anymore without Tomura at their head, protested Satoru. -And i will be back in no time, two weeks is super fast.

But Shouto still pouted, and didn’t like it when the boy had to leave. Momo was a bit worried about what he would be like as a father of a baby? He was already overprotective with Satoru…! Yet it was so charming to see him care so much. And even if Satoru tried to hide it, he did care too. The proof was that he tried to leave twice, and always came back to ask for “one last hug” before he actually managed to leave the house.

-Come on, you will be back in no time, she whispered to the kid’s ears the second time. -Two weeks is not that long and then you’ll be with us for a whole month!

-I know, but it’s hard not to see you both everyday anymore. And i wanted to help you more. You need a lot of hands to get all be done.

They felt the same, this couple of days were not enough. They were used to so many more, they were used to having him living under the same roof and it was even harder than before to let him go back to UA.

-Next time i’m subscribing to be one of the supervisor in the training camp, he swore when the boy finally managed to leave. -If Bakugou can teach children in the training camp, so can i.

-Bakugou is helping out Kirishima, it’s not the same, Momo insisted.

-And you would leave Momo here, all alone, pregnant with your child…! Gasped Jirou dramatically.

-We could supervise together, proposed Shouto. -Momo is a good teacher, kids would love her.

-She is, assured Kaminari immediately. -I always thought she would become a teacher like Aizawa hen we were in high school. It’s only thanks to her that a lot of us got good marks during our final exams.

The compliment made Momo blush, and she hid her embarrassment under her hands. She did liked to teach her friends around, and would have loved to make it her work. But things turned out differently.

-I’m not sure it’s very advised for Momo and the baby, contested Shouto’s mother with a compassionate smile though. -And next summer you will have a baby to take care of.

Shouto was smart, he knew they were right and that he was saying nonesense. But he was also very stubborn sometimes.

-I still think we should subscribe next summer, he repeated that evening, as they cuddled under the blanket.

The house was silent, so much it was disturbing. Surely Shouto felt the same because he hugged her tenderly and put his head in the crook of her neck. His bangs tickled. There were no friend anymore, and not even Satoru. Only them, cat and rabbit, and the crackling light bulb on the ceiling that waited for some covering. She missed her son already, harder than before. She missed having a home full of laughs and life.

She put a hand on her belly and prayed every gods she knew of to never let the house feel this empty again.

***

Momo was feeling huge and clumsy. She felt like a stranger in her own body, having to learn again how to move. Even walking was different with a big belly. She couldn’t bend down the same way as before and gods, having to pee every hours (and doing the exercise the doctor gave her to prepare for the labor) was an hassle. A lot of time, she hated being pregnant.

She hated having to only do desk work, and then, when she was six months, being put on home-rest. The doctor wanted to be cautious and so asked her to stay in bed in a certain position for as long as she could. Which apparently had meant the last trimester of pregnancy.

At the beginning she took the new pretty well, there were still a lot of things to do in the house, the big workout was finished, but they still missed some decoration and stuff. So she laughed it off and said that it would be the perfect opportunity to take the time to finish it.

How wrong she was. She finished decorating the house in three days and then...

It had been her own personal hell. Once she had been punished by her parents, when she was little (because she lied to them). She had been grounded to her room, not allowed to play with games, watch tvs, or even read books. She remembered her father saying “You’re only allowed to be bored and to think about what you did wrong.” And gods, it was almost as if she had been grounded again. She felt like her little old self, watching the cellar of her room for hours. She had tried to work while being in bed, making the heroes job a little easier, fillin papers in their stead, planning intervention...But there was little she could do, confined in her house. She started refreshing her internet page and hoping Aoyama to call and tell her all about Peace’s business. She even started to hope there would be a great crisis in the office, so important that she would need to come back asap.So it took her four days and the knowledge that that they had 1376 nails in the cellar, before breaking up and disobeying the doctor’s orders.

-I will be back in my bed if i feel bad, she promised to Shouto when she saw him frowning. -But i just can’t. I need to do something. Anything!

At least he understood that, and didn’t made her feel guilty about it. She was thankful, because she already felt guilty by herself, like an adult. But it was worst when all she had to do in her day was lying down and think about everything that could happen to the baby and go wrong with the pregnancy, for hours. (Spoiler, so many things could go wrong it made her wants to change the whole world before giving birth to anyone).

Shouto and Aoyama still convinced her to work on the couch of peace office most of her time, but it was still easier than being home. At least at the office she was not alone, she could see all her friends (fro little time as they were just passing between reports and missions) and even kids from the Peace program. Aoyama handled all the stressful activities though, as such as dealing with press (he loved that part anyways).

But that was not the only thing she did not like about pregnancy.

She also hated how her food buds became so random! Her favorite dessert changed taste in her mouth every now and then, and some scents she adored before made her want to throw up immediately. And the worst? It didn’t stop her from being hungry. She always had been some kind of a glutton, but with another being to feed? She could eat all day! And actually, she had to constantly remember Shouto that it wasn’t healthy for her to eat all day. Because her so -adorable- husband was very committed about bringing her food. She swore he always had something to eat when he saw her, was it candies, or cake, or even healthy things for women he read about online, or even takeover from their favorite restaurant. It was like he was going back to the pure animal instinct of fathers: MUST. BRING. FOOD. TO. WIFE. AND. BABY. Gods. It was disturbing. For a time she even wondered if Shouto would have the belly growing like some stressed men have, mimicking their wives. Of course he did not. (That was a bit unfair) Shouto often said:

-You’re worried for the both of us, so i don’t need to.

Which was quite refreshing and infuriating at the same time. She would have liked to give him some of her internal turmoil and stress. So he would understand what it felt like. But at the same time, it was a comfort of having him as an emotional pillar. Always calm and composed, he patted her head when she cried over the laundry (which turned PINK! PINK. How could have been so stupid and not see the red garnement in all their white shirts?) and even massaged her feets when she didn’t feel like walking anymore.

Shouto made being pregnant a lot more easier many times. But there was also a little things that she liked on her own.

The baby’s kicks for example. She never got tired of it, even when it woke her up in the middle of the night. She couldn’t sleep on her belly anymore anyways. So she got used to stay in the bed, while Shouto was spooning her, and wait for the baby to kick.

It was the proof the baby was all right and so lively and she never got tired of being reminded of that.

Of course she shared the baby’s growth with Shouto too, she didn’t keep it secret all the time. They spent hours, together, trying to talk to the baby, giving them comforting words, supportive ones. They put some music, classical because apparently it made them smarter (Iida said, but Izuku remarked that with Shouto and Momo’s genes, the baby was bound to be smart). But the most enjoyable part was when Shouto put his ear on her belly and stopped moving, holding his breath.

Sometimes the baby was sneaky and didn’t move (Momo was sure it wasn’t intended) and so he started to doze off and fall asleep on the spot. But when the baby did kick and he could feel it too...Oh gods, the light in his eyes, the happiness, his smile...It was all she ever wanted him to look, all she ever wished him to be. She couldn’t help but giggle and wanting to shower him with kiss.

She knew she already liked the baby, there was no denying, despite all her efforts she was already planning. But witnessing how much it made Shouto happy, well, it made Momo love their baby even more. She couldn’t help but wonder, sometimes, what would they look like?

Would they be a girl or a boy? Would they take their look from her or Shouto? Would their smile as rare and yet so beautiful as their father’s? Would she be able to bring it as easily as she did with Shouto’s? She couldn’t wait to know.

***

Shouto did not understand why people said pregnant women were hard to handle. Momo was the same as she had always been, she even seemed happier than before.

He always liked the way she was a glutton, the way she lifted her pinky even to eat hamburger and still eating it in one bite. Now that she was pregnant she ate even more than before. Then she would be embarrassed and blush about her behaviour and that only made Shouto want to bring her more food. Momo was quite not happy with this new found tendency, she always said that he was trying to make her and the baby all puffy. (Which he would not mind, she had the most adorable puffy cheeks).

The only thing that was troublesome with Momo being pregnant was the fact that she was so fragile. He never thought he would see Momo that way ever. She always had been smart and strong and reliable on his mind -and she still was. But the doctors were worried and so she had to stay at home, in bed. Shouto could see it was hard for her and getting on her nerves. She was more emotional, and asked him more attention when he was already tired.

-It’s normal, she’s off the track, explained his mother when he told her. -When your day is off, and you come back home, her day truly begins. It’s a bit hard to handle the time difference. She’s probably lonely all day, there is no one available on work hours, not even her parents or me.

So he listened to his mother and made a compromise with Momo. They traded the bed for the couch, in the work office. It made things a little bit more distracting for him at work. How was he supposed to leave her for work when she was here, having trouble to just finding a good position to work in with her belly?

When Satoru came back during breaks, he could also stay with Momo at home and make sure she would not overwork herself while Shouto was at work. Thankfully, Satoru was an easy teenager (well, he was hard to handle when he was in his no-hug-im-not-a-kid-anymore phase, but he dropped it very quickly) so he didn’t complain. Sometimes, Shouto did come home to find a bunch of other kids (Satoru’s classmates) at home, with Momo lost among them though. But he also came home to find them enjoying a mother-and-son time too, fighting on a goban or chess board.

He missed having Momo on the field with him, sometimes, as much as he missed having Satoru home, but as the months went by he had learned that it was only temporary. And he came to like the daily life of this “temporary” even more, knowing that it wouldn’t last. It felt precious and unique in a way.

***

Momo enjoyed the last few weeks of pregnancy, surprisingly. Now it was certain that everything was going to be all right ; the baby was fine, she was fine too, Shouto and her were going to have a baby. Nothing could go wrong now. She felt at peace and confident.

So she started to worry on much trivial things, that every pregnant women did, way before her: the labor. Momo’s friends were here often to discuss about it, though they made her more stressed than she already was about it.

-I heard it hurt a lot. Like more than a lot, kept repeating Mina.

-You’re the first one of us to go there, Momo, scout it for us, be our pathfinder!

-I swear i’m never going to be pregnant, remarked Jirou.

-You can also deliver with ceasarian, right? And there are a lot of medications to relieve you from the pain, promised Tsuyu.

Thankfully she had a good relationship with her mother, who was always there to comfort her when she was stressed.

-It worth the pain, she said over the phone, and Momo could hear her smiling. -You are still my greatest joy, up to this day.

-If it hurts a lot, crush Shouto’s hand, proposed his father with a grin. -Your mother broke my fingers when you were born.

Shouto’s mother was also a big help, and she came over very often to help her doing the exercises. She was every bit patient, never complaining about her questions no matter how silly it was sometimes. She tried to think of it as a jump, scary when your feet are near the gap, when you watch the cliff, but then you take a deep breath close your eyes and it’s only a matter of seconds before panic turns into something else. She still was not very much looking foward this day, no matter how much she wanted to meet the baby already.

***

It happened during winter break, right after christmas. When they got together, Momo and Shouto took the habit to merge the western and the japanese custom for this holiday. They enjoyed the 24, not as a couple, but with their friends, in a gigantic party. Then they enjoyed it as a family the next day, and would do couple date on the 26. The new eve celebration was typically japanese, with a visit to festival, shrines, eating cold soba (his favorite part), waiting for the countdown and the upload of the heroes ranking, then going to watch the sunrise. Overall, they never rested during those holidays. Momo being pregnant of nine months and the due date approaching didn’t change it.

-Maybe i will have the baby on the very first day of the new year, she laughed. - It seems that the baby wants to stay in my belly for now!

He liked the way she said it, how she put her hand on her belly tenderly. She was becoming more confident everyday. Shouto knew he liked the baby already, but seeing how they made Momo’s eyes shines, and smile and how it pushed away her self-doubt and guilt...He loved them even more.

Though, she was wrong, the baby decided they had enough of Momo’s belly on the 28, in the middle of the lunch. She had been unwell all morning, restless and dizzy at the same time, but still assuring that she was not “that sick”. Satoru and Shouto tried their best to make her think of something else and they were choosing a good movie when her water broke.

The rest honestly, was just a mess.

***

They barely managed to get to the hospital. Satoru had called a cab -because Shouto was not a good driver to begin with but with all the emotion bottling up and the stress? No way thank you. Even Momo said no when Shouto proposed to drive her, and said that she would after go on foot. While being in labor. (That alone was a good indicator of how bad he was at driving).

Still, they made it in time. Satoru was impressed though, in movie the labor was always erratic and the woman was screaming and yelling and father was panicking. Momo barely made a sound during the travel, and simply went to the wheelchair, then Shouto pushed to the front desk and asked for a room. Of course, Satoru knew that inside, they were both panicking and worried and all the stuff, but that didn’t come to the surface before hours.

Momo’s mask was the first to fall, due to the pain. And so, with her, Satoru’s one fell soon after, and only Shouto’s remained. For a couple of minutes.

-Everything is going to be all right, don’t worry. Just...stay there. I called our friends, they should be arriving soon enough, he said, as he followed Momo in another room. The delivery one.

-You don’t even know the baby’s genre!

It wasn’t so important, but at the moment, Satoru had felt like it was the worst thing of the day, that it detained some vital information that could save both Shouto and Momo, and the baby’s life. And they did not have it!

Thankfully, Satoru wasn’t alone for a long time, in the waiting room, hearing Momo’s screams and sobs. Izuku was the first one to arrive, then Shouto and Momo’s family Except Endeavor, and Satoru wondered if it was wise to send him a text. He decided against it, and promised himself to do so when everything was over and okay. Shouto would not like to see his father (period) while being exposed. He didn’t have to wonder long though, because the whole room was filling more and more. There was no place left for anyone, as all Shouto and Momo’s friends barely fit in together. They even had the surprise to see Kouda, arriving from the mount Fuji, three hours after. Apparently he had jumped in the first train to be there.

Even Mahô, Satoru’s best friend, arrived after a few hours, with her whole family. She huged him so tight and bounced around happily:

-They’re having a baby! A baby! I’m so happy!

It might be a little bit stupid, but Satoru thought that with this much love and support around them, nothing could go wrong. It might be a bit naive, but it made him feel better.

***

Momo had been so tired, the rest of the day was a blurr. She remembered having her friends around her, and many congratulations, but honestly? Not much after that. She might have fainted, or maybe she fell asleep. All she knew is that when she opened her eyes with a clear mind, the night had already fallen. The hospital room was empty, Shouto was sleeping like log on the chair beside her bed. Satoru was not here, but she remembered planning that he would stay at her parent’s place or Fuyumi, on the day after the labor. Yet...Yet, she still looked for him in the room, she looked for her baby. Both of them.

She turned her head and for the first time, her eyes fell on the little baby she dreamed of for so long.

It was a she, a wonderful little girl all red and with puffy cheek (how could she not, when Momo had eaten so much during pregnancy?). She had white and red hair on her head and was sleeping soundly, making bubbling sound with her mouth. Already calm, just like her father.

Shouto woke up hearing a sob. He immediately rose to his feet, trying to remember what the nurse said, how to handle a baby, hold him...The fog of his tired mind lift up when he realized that the baby wasn’t crying. Momo was.

She was just there, on her bed, with the baby in her arms, with this radiant smile on her face despite the tears rolling of her cheek, it left Shouto numb. The only thing he could do was to brush her tear away with his thumb. She couldn’t hold her hiccup, as they eyes met.

-She has so tiny hands!

He couldn’t deny it, she did had tiny hand. So tiny she couldn’t even grip his finger.

-Her hands are perfect, he said.

Momo nodded:

-We have the perfect glove for her tiny hands. And looks at her tiny feets!

Shouto couldn’t help but smile.

-Her feets are perfect too. She is perfect in every single way. Just like you.

He sat on the bed with her, and put a arm around her waist, pulling both of his girls in a hug.

-We have a baby, Shouto, sobbed Momo.

She hugged the baby so close to her heart. For all this time she had felt the baby growing in her womb, she knew it was there all along, she knew it was a reality...But she never felt like she had a baby before this moment. Now she could see what she looked like, how her skin was so smooth...And soon enough she would be able to recognize her scent, to see her grow up, her hands and feets take centimeter, learn how she was, who she was, her personality...

-She needs a name, she realized.

Now that she was here, for good, for real, her perfect little girl needed a name.

-If you’re okay with it, said Shouto. -I would like to call her Mimi.

Momo opened her eyes, and her throat got so tight she didn’t even know how she managed to speak:

-Mimi?

He nodded and said:

-We’re already been calling her that with Satoru for months on the phone. Momo’s baby, Mimi.

The baby looked already so much like his father, a name close to Shouto’s would be more fitting. And yet. Yet, it sounded right. So right. Mimi was her baby too. It was their daughter and she was wonderful and pretty and perfect with her tiny hands and tiny feets and her name. Mimi Todoroki.

#my writing #mimi todoroki #gunni's oc #my oc : satoru #better care #bnha #todomomo angst #Shouto Todoroki/Momo Yaoyorozu #todomomo

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opaque-daydream · 7 years ago

Text

Broken 22

Disclaimer: Domestic violence.

You didn’t know if you were ready to face the real world again, sure it had only been two days but it somehow felt like a lifetime. Dr Cho had been in first thing that morning to clear you. At her insistence last night your brother had went home, which you were grateful for you need time to process that they didn’t hate you, and to be perfectly honest you still needed time.

You couldn’t help but ump when you heard a knock on the door, your brother stuck his head in “Morning Cricket” he gave you a smile.

“Stevie” you tried to give him a smile but grimaced when it hurt your lip, “You came alone” you questioned trying to look behind him to see if you could see Peggy.

“Pegs insisted she wanted to have lunch ready, and Bucky is trying to help” he chuckled making his way closer to your bed, “You ready?”

“Just waiting on the final paperwork” You informed him softly, “Sorry” you added quickly

“Y/N, what are you apologizing for” Steve takes your hand in his.

“I should have been ready when you got here” you told him.

“Cricket, we are on hospital time right now, nothing to be sorry for ok” He squeezed your hand and gave you another smile.

You nodded not trusting you voice and squeezed his hand back, “Steve,” You ask softly.

“hmmm” He ask looking down at you.

“Did you bring me anything to wear”. Steve swore and a giggle escaped you before you covered your mouth. “I’m sorry” you muttered again.

“Hey, Cricket no we just talked about this. It’s me that should be sorry, we talked about this last night, I just wanted you home where I can make sure you’re ok and was in a rush. I’ll run out and pick something up, maybe the gift shop will have something” he rubbed the back of his neck.

Just then Dr Cho walked in, “I brought your discharge papers, normally a nurse would but, “She trailed off looking at both you and Steve, “What is going on here” She leveled a glare at Steve to rival Peggy’s.

“I forgot her clothes” Steve sheepishly muttered.

“Oh well I am sure I can round up some scrubs,” She gave a smile, “It’s been a couple of rough days for all of you”

“Thank you” You softly reply giving her a small smile.

“before I do, we need to talk about your orders” Dr. Cho told you, “As we talked about earlier, I want you to take a week or two off work, follow up with your primary care, and we have set up an appointment with a bone and joint specialist for your wrist”

You nodded your head, and Steve took out a notepad from his jacket pocket, “What day is the appointment” Steve ask

“It’s all in the discharge papers Mr. Rogers, though I appreciate that you were listening” Dr Cho told him smiling.

“We will make sure she takes it easy” Steve told her honestly as he gave you another smile and you couldn’t help but feel stupid. How could Brock have gotten you to doubt him so easily.

“Now if you will excuse me, I will send a nurse in with a pair of scrubs and you can go home, and get some actual rest” Dr. Cho slipped from the room

“Pegs and I are sleeping in Ma’s room” Steve told you as he sat on the chair next to the bed, “Bucky insisted that he move to my room, so that you can have yours back”

“Bucky can stay in my room, he was settled, I can sleep in your old room” You quickly tell him not wanting to displace Bucky.

“Bucky really doesn’t mind” He told you and gave you another smile another knock and a nurse came in.

“Ms. Rogers, I brought you some scrubs to wear home, If you wouldn’t mind stepping out sir I will help you get changed” She smiled.

Steve gave you another smile, “I will be right outside” He told you as he stepped outside.

You took a deep breath once you were in the scrubs, You didn’t realize how much it would take out of you to just change your clothes. “Thank-you,” You told the nurse.

“Not a problem, Ms. Rogers and if you are ready I have the wheel chair waiting we can roll you out”

“I think I will be ok to walk” You told her, dreading it but wanting to make your own way out of the hospital.

“Sorry Hospital policy” she told you as she moved the wheelchair toward you so that you could sit down. She made quick time getting to the door and opening it, “Mr. Rogers if you wouldn’t mind bringing your car around I will wheel your sister out” she told him as she passed him. You watched as Steve nodded and took off toward the exit.

You had your head down playing with your hands as she wheeled you out of the hospital exit and put the parking break on the chair. You noticed someone came to a stop beside your chair and you looked up biting your lip and hissing as you noticed an officer standing there.

“I’m sorry I startled you Ma’am” he gave you a gentle smile as he bent down to your height, “Director Fury had an officer outside your door while you were here just for safety precautions” When you didn’t say anything he gave you another smile, “I’m sorry if I make you uncomfortable”

“No, No its fine” you softly tell him, “I was just surprised is all”

“Lieutenant Coulson takes his job very seriously, he is in charge of your case. If it makes you feel better it has only been myself and another officer, I relieved him this morning, Officer Dugan at your service, most everyone calls me Dum Dum”

“Dum Dum” You ask flabbergasted, and he gave you a smile, “Do people really call you Dum Dum, or are you just trying to seem less intimidating”

“Well my friends really call me Dum Dum, but if it makes you feel better” He shrugged as you saw Steve jump out of a car, that you knew was a rental.

“Let’s go home Cricket” Steve told you as he held out his hands to help you out of your wheelchair. You took them and let out a groan as you stood and Steve started to fuss over you.

“Steve I’m ok just sore” You assured him as you got settled into the car. You gave a small wave to Dum Dum who nodded as Steve pulled onto the main highway.

It seemed that you and Steve spent the car ride in silence neither knowing what to say, “You want me to drop you off before I go and fill your prescriptions” Steve finally broke the silence.

“You could always drop them off, and we can come back and get them later” You told him, “or I really don’t mind waiting”

Steve nodded and turned toward the pharmacy, going through the drive through and dropping off your prescription, you were looking out the window and tensed as you saw a patrol car pull into the pharmacy parking lot and Rollins step out. Steve noticed you tense out of the corner of his eye and turned to look at you. “Everything ok” He ask you softly and when you didn’t respond he turned and looked at the pharmacy clerk, “We will be picking this up in a bit” he put the car in drive and pulled out of the parking lot, “Cricket, what happened back there”

“Rollins” You whispered.

“Who” he questioned as he looked at you quickly before looking back at the road.

“Brocks best friend” You supplied.

“Cricket, I’m going to keep you safe” He told you as he pulled on the road that lead to home.

When Steve pulled into the driveway you let out a relieved sigh glad to see only Bucky’s rental in the driveway. You know Nat had said that she would be seeing you today, but you just wanted a moment to collect yourself before you felt you had to put on a brave front. Before you could even get your door open it was opened for you, you jumped a little in surprise as Steve was still in the car, “Sorry” Bucky said giving you a warm smile, “Pegs threw me out of the kitchen a half hour ago and I have been waiting on the porch ever since” You couldn’t help but laugh, Bucky and Steve tried in the kitchen they really did, but something always ended up going wrong. “There she is” Bucky told you softly.

“Huh” you gave him a quizzical look.

“nothing” he blushed as he held his arms out to help you from the car, “Maybe if I help you in Pegs will let us sneak the cookies she is baking” he whispered to you.

“I heard that Barnes” You heard Peggy shout from inside the house.

“Steve, are you sure your wife is human how did she hear that” Bucky gave Steve a look.

Steve shrugged his shoulders, “I think it is a super power all women get when they become mothers”

“Steve” Peggy called, “Come help me get the plates on the table”

“Duty calls” Steve tells you both seriously and you give him a genuine smile

“Go help Pegs” Bucky pushes Steve “I’ve got our precious cargo”

“Bucky” you blush and he just smiles helping you into the house.

“How is the arm” You ask him as you both toe off your shoes.

“Its fine, I have my first round of PT tomorrow, but less about me, more about you, did you bring your discharge orders home”

“Steve has them” You told him as you both made your way toward the living room.

“Barnes, kitchen table” Peggy called, “Y/N dear lunch is ready”

“I’m her favorite” Bucky told you with grin.

“I can tell” you laughed as changed course and took a seat at the kitchen table, “Peggy it looks wonderful”

“Hospital food does no good for recovery, I thought a couple of your favorites should help”

“You shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble for me, a sandwich would have been ok”

“Nonsense dear” Peggy told you, “Once we eat the boys can do the dishes and we can relax and I will catch you up on all the antics of Steve and Bucky you have missed”

“Pegs” Steve and Bucky start.

“Boys its isn’t like I was going to tell about how you both cried when you saw the first ultrasound picture” she gave a charming smile.

@marvel-fanfiction @steggy4ever @pinkleopardss @smile-sugar @avengersfluff @bethabear12 @jim-im-a-doctor-not-a-physicist

@deepnachodelusion @buckyappreciationsociety @unabashedcandymaker

@brooklyhn @sorryidontspeakgrounder-world @engineeringgirlcve @pie-and-profound-bonds @elaacreditava @thedoctorscompanion @sebstanwassup @fandom-obssessed-sloth @laughandwrite @stacyscarlet04 @breezy-chan11414 @giovisgomez @clinttnat @giohiddles

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader

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morganeuk · 7 years ago

Text

With a little help from your friend s...

I always thought that John was getting it to easy after he hits Sherlock in the morgue...

After the end of S4E3 but right before the fluffy bits in the epilogue.

Morgane

A black car stop in front of John's house while he was giving her diner to Rosie. "What the hell is happening again?" Sherlock get out of the car with a strong pace. He's looking better now, John thought, more like himself. It's good that he have his confidence back. Molly told him that he was seeing a therapist. Good for him!

Sherlock was trying to keep his emotion on check. Last time he was at this place... The letter John gived him, asking Molly to push him away on his behalf. Breath-in, breath-out.The breathing exercises are doing bloody nothing!

The door open with a smiling John and a grinning Rosie that what rising a spoon like a rattle. Rosie... Shit. I didn't think about her! Why can't she be at the nursery or what-ever?

"Hi Sherlock! Happy to see you, it's been long mate. How do you like the renovation at the flat, have you found everything you need? Come in! Is Mycroft in the car?"

Sherlock was still outside the threshold. John was startled by his friend unemotional gaze. He's looking at me only! John though realizing that the detective was avoiding Rosie attempts to get his attention. "Is everything all right?" He walks inside motioning again to his friend to join him inside.

"I'm here for one and only reason John. I have something to say and I want you to be attentive as I won't say it again."

"Ok... but won't you come in?"

"No. I'm not coming in your house." His feet remaining firmly on the porch. "We've been through a lot recently. I have done things that I'm not proud of, if I must be honest, but..."

"Me too, I'm..." But Sherlock interrupt John by rising his hand before he can utter one more word.

"I'm the one who's talking now. Please. I just need to tell you..." He pause to be certain to get John's attention. "Don't. You. Ever. Put. Your. Hand. On. Me. Again." Sherlock voice was clad with iron but unable to totally mask the disgust the words where causing him.

"Sherlock... I'm so sorry. I wasn't myself..." Shame took over all other emotions in John.

"Because next time I won't stay put like a bloody target. Remember who you're dealing with. Understand?"

"Yes... of course... Sherlock, I would never... I was so angry and..." Oh God, that day... It's gone haunt me forever...

"I don't care. Find a better way to deal with anger or I will have to intervene for Rosie's sake."

"What? I would never hurt my daughter!"

"And she's my goddaughter. Find professional help. Farewell John."

And Sherlock went back to the car, his composure falling apart as soon as the door closes.

"It's over, brother mine. You've been brave."

"Yes, it's over" Sherlock replies as tears drop despite his hard as steel eyes. "It's over for me. The ball is now on John court..." And the black sedan left the curb in direction of Baker Street.

John remains on his doorstep, an agitated Rosie in his arms. The one sided conversation he just had with Sherlock replaying again and again in his mind. Hurting my baby girl, who does he think I am! I am not a bloody psychopath! “How dare he… The bastard!” He says loudly. His daughter, startled, starts crying with vigor. Feeling instantly ashamed, a well-known feeling nowadays, he closes the door and went inside trying to calm the baby. “I’m sorry Rosie… I will never hurt you… You know… Don’t cry, I love you so so much.” The little girl becomes calmer instantly, looking at her father with her big eyes. The trust he saw in the eyes, the attention that she seems to put in every word he said was too much… And for the first time since that time in Sherlock flat, he cried. Not trusting himself around Rosie, afraid he may drop her, he put the child away in her bed with a bottle. Once back on the first floor and totally alone, John snaps. Sitting on the first step of the stair he puts his head in his hands he finally cries. Images of the last months maculating his head... Everything since Mary died. I can't go further than that, the last year... it's already too much... I am just a regular man, how can I deal with all that. It's too much. The events were passing one by one in his mind... Mary relentlessly pursuit by her ex-colleague, Norbury wanting to kill Sherlock but Mary that decided to spring in front of the bullet, probably wanting to thank him for saving her so many times. That’s was foolish! He nearly hates her for that. For not wanting to stay with them… For putting Sherlock’s life on higher ground. “You need him more than me…” Mary’s voice, gone for so long, says in his head. “No, don’t say that…” But he knows that’s the truth. He knows that if it wasn’t for Sherlock insistance that he talked to Mary, he’ll probably have divorced her after she shoots the detective, after he discovers her past and the lies. But if I need him, if I am his friend how come I was mad enough to beat him like that… I nearly killed him. He closes his eyes, not wanting to know if Mary was in the room. Her voice was already too much… The conversation he adds with Sherlock, just before they left for cake with Molly, before Eurus craziness, pop up in his mind. The talk about Mary, about him saying to Sherlock that he knows it’s not his fault… But did I ever actually apologizes for what happened in the morgue. Never. Sherlock knows, for sure, no? It was nearly back to normal when the drugs finally left the hold that it has on him... I even bring Rosie at Baker Street. But with that crazy stuff with Eurus and Moriarty… We never talked about this again, but he knows... right?

The memory of Sherlock subdues attitude when he was particularly angry and ranting about something or another, the way how he stops arguing every bloody time John is not on part with him. Can't he be... afraid? Afraid of losing my friendship if he's himself? Afraid that I... Oh My God... He knows that I'm feeling so sorry that I can even say it. How do you ask forgiveness for something like that?

The doorbell rings and brings back John to reality. Sherlock! He ran to the door, but it wasn't his friend. It was an uneasy Greg.

"Hi." John, still with tears in his eyes, didn't know what else to say. What the hell is he doing here, among all day?

"Sorry to disturb you like that." He looks even more uneasy. "But I've got something that... someone..." At John questioning gaze, he adds with a loopside smirk, "Mycroft Holmes asked me to give to you." He gives John an envelope.

The doctor mechanically opens it, it was a list of psychologist that worked with NSY in the past. John looks at Greg with anger first. How dare Mycroft Holmes uses Greg as a bloody messenger! How dare Greg intervenes in something that it's not his fucking business! But he calms quickly... Sighing profoundly, he closes his eyes. He's a friend, calm yourself. Breath in, breath out... Breath in, breath out...

Seeing that John had his anger on check, the DI continues softly, "These are all professionals that are used to deal with policemen and... soldiers. All the crap that they... we... are living with on a daily basis. On the job and on a more personal level." After a pause, he mutters "I've been on few sessions my self... The things we go thru sometimes. When it's children that... And when I divorced... and after Sherlock jumped... I was feeling so guilty, still do sometimes." He shakes his head, clearing his thoughts. "Anyway. You've got the list, do as you wish." He left to get back to his car, but turns one last time to look at John. "But... You're a good man John Watson. And I would love to have you back to your old self." Then he walks towards the street.

"Greg!" John says loudly before he changes his mind. The detective turns again to look at the man he still considered a friend, "Why... why did you never put charges against me... that time. You add everything, I will have let you do it you know. I was deserving anything the law, or Mycroft would have throw at me."

"Why? Not because you're my friend, not because Mycroft asked me to - Because if it was of Mycroft Holmes you'll be in Siberia right now! - why didn't I put charges against you? It because I know that you're better than this. That it wasn't the real you... and that I know that Sherlock and you are better together than alone. It is what it is... What ever that's mean." He smiled one last time and leaves. John closes the door for the second time that day, but now with a slight hope in his heart.

Taking his phone, he calls the first name on Greg's list.

________________

So, between the reconstruction of the flat and the playing around with Rosie and going back together to solve cases at the end of the episode, Sherlock grows back his backbone and John seeks help near an anger-management specialist. Love to hear your thoughts :-).

Morgane

originale published on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/11179059/chapters/24957846

#sherlock #fanfic #post-season 4 #Anger Management #Friendship still possible?#not beta read

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poweredbycoffeeandwine · 7 years ago

Text

I Don’t Mean To: Part I

Here we go. This will be the very first time I have shared anything I have written. Thank you to my amazing hubs for reading, editing, and only smirking a tiny bit. (I couldn’t have handled any outright laughter...fragile ego and everything). I promise I was working on this fic before Andromeda came out. What can I say...movie night is just a great idea. Thank you to @vorchagirl for a brief, “Just keep working on it.”

Kaidan Alenko x Commander Shepard - Pre-Romance - ME:1

Read here on: FF.net

Part I:

Sitting comfortably on a sofa, drink in hand, Kaidan pondered exactly how he came to be in this moment. Ashley lay to one side of him, hogging the couch, with her feet tucked under his thigh, fast asleep. Shepard was pressed against his side gripping the long empty popcorn bowl against her chest. The day started off the same way most did since joining the Normandy Crew. A mission briefing, gear check, suit up, ship out, hit the ground running. He took pride in the fact that Tavrien Shepard trusted him to watch her six, he was on the ground team nearly every time. Being a skilled medic, tech specialist, and decent with biotics certainly made him an asset. Garrus had, on more than one occasion, jokingly referred to him as "Commander's pet." Shepard would take a moment to stare Garrus down, but Kaidan noticed pink tinge her freckled cheeks. He knew it was fanciful, the great Commander Shepard, military brat, savior of Elysium would never blush for the likes of him. He was simply another marine in the midst of many.

Kaidan could not help but admire the grace in which Shepard did everything. She turned a fire-fight into a frenzied dance only she knew the steps to. He learned quickly how to be where he was needed to provide support because he sure as hell couldn't keep up. If her barrier wavered, he would cover her restoring shields. If she got into a jam, he told himself that the reason his heart hammered so hard in his chest was because the Alliance could not afford to lose such an accomplished soldier. Shepard always managed to come up on top with a small smirk and some witty remark on her lips. They were an unstoppable team, and had become friends with an ease he hadn't known to this point in his life. The task of bringing in Matriarch Benezia proved to be more challenging than any assignment so far.

Wave after wave of Asari Commandos flung attacks at Shepard, trying to keep her off balance. They were out manned, and exhausted. His amp burned and he knew the others weren't fairing much better. Amidst the flying crates and biotics Shepard flew through the air, hitting the wall with a sickening crunch that echoed through the enclosed space. Terror gripped Kaidan, holding him tight in it's cold embrace. Everything around him began to spin, heart plummeting into his stomach, and he saw red. Instead of focusing on defense, as he was prone to do, he unleashed biotic attacks with a speed and intensity he could not believe were his doing. All in an effort to reach her, to make sure that he hadn't missed his chance to do more than idolize her from afar. The image of her lying there, eyes closed, blood streaking down her face and splattered inside her visor, would always haunt him. When she rose, fire in her eyes, he almost cried on the spot. After everything was said and done, he couldn't believe that she only suffered a small laceration. Doctor Chackwas chuckled at his unconcealed panic, kindly reminding him that head wounds bled terribly.

A sullen ground team removed armor, checked weapons, and watched in silent sorrow as rinse water swirled with red. Shepard had spent extra time in the med bay consoling a devastated Liara. He was ashamed at the jealousy that flared up. He tried his best not to let his brain conjure the worst images of what was transpiring behind closed doors. Shepard with her arms around Liara, emotions getting out of hand. He shook his head in disgust at himself. If Shepard chose to pursue a relationship with the Asari, what right did he have to stop her? Sure, they had flirted a time or two when he wasn't quick enough to stop compliments from escaping his lips. That certainly did not mean that he had any claim on her. Knowing this didn't stop the relieved sigh upon seeing her step into the mess. Shepard wandered off in a mindless daze. That she didn't so much as acknowledge either marine disconcerted him.

A silent glance and a quick nod shared between him and Ash was all that was needed for each to spring into motion. Kaidan moved quickly, gathering supplies for the one thing capable of pulling Shepard out of her despair: Movie Night. Shepard loved watching old vids and gorging on snacks after missions. He witnessed her pretending not to cry when Mr. Darcy declared his ardent love for Miss Elizabeth Bennett, his proposal dashed. He got lost in the musical sound of her laughter when the Man in Black wrestled Fezik to the ground and whispered to the unconscious giant about large women. No matter how many of these moments he was privy to, it always surprised him how real she seemed. Gone was the crafty, analytical mind of the Engineer leading them against foe after foe. While she gazed at the screen, he could almost imagine being normal. A couple of friends enjoying each other's company, and if sometimes his mind painted a picture of them being more, well he was a man. After her initial shock, she cracked a bright smile. "I have just the vid! You guys will love it!," she squealed. She selected Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, and though he had never seen the vid before, he was surprised at how right it felt to settle into Shepard's habit.

Garrus was the first to bail, muttering that a good leader wouldn't let someone so inexperienced choose which path to take. It was no surprise he didn't agree with the wizard Gandalf letting the tiny hobbit decide to go under the mountains against his better, and more experienced, judgment. Kaidan smiled deciding that Garrus would make a perfect Boromir. Both brash and quick tempered, sure that their way is the only way. As time went on, others excused themselves until the couch was the only occupied place in the room.

This close to her he could see the bruise on Shepard's temple was starting to blossom, soon to become hues of purple and blue. A ghastly reminder that he needed to be more than back up. He needed to let go, his fear of losing control hampered him. Kaidan wished he was brave enough to gently tuck an errant strand of her auburn hair behind her ear. He tried to tell himself that he didn't need to know if it was a soft as it looked. He certainly didn't need to see it freed from her severe military style bun. He would sneak a peak at her, watching as her long lashes brushed against the creamy skin of her cheek.

While Frodo stood on the river bank staring out to the distant shore, Shepard's full, perfect lips began to move. "I wish the ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened." Her shoulder's sagged and he fought to keep his hands in his lap clutching his drink. He hated that so much rested on her, and wished he could do something to shoulder a portion of her burden. "So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All you have to decide, is what to do with the time that is given to you."

As Frodo pulled a sopping Sam from the river, and back into the boat, Kaidan knew he should turn his attention back to the screen. He felt as though he was invading a private moment Shepard was having. This time he could barely hear her melodic and captivating voice whispering along, "I made a promise, Mr. Frodo. A promise. Don't you leave him Samwise Gamgee, and I don't mean to. I don't mean to." A silent tear streaked down her face, and Kaidan realized he was a goner. He was in love with this wonderfully fierce woman. A brave, determined soldier willing to fight tooth and nail for what was right. When people told her she was too naive and idealistic, that she was living in a fantasy world, she held fast to her resolve and amazed them all. This beautiful soul protecting the innocent whenever possible, banishing the monsters from under beds and out of dark corners. A proud and inspiring woman currently dissolving at the sight of a bond of friendship so strong, the most terrible evil could not come between them.

When the vid finally ended, and sea blue eyes met copper, she gave him the wistful smile he saw at night in his favorite dreams. She leaned over touched his arm and quietly, so as not to wake Ashley, said, "Thanks for indulging me, Kaidan. I knew you wouldn't let me down." She rested her head against his shoulder, and Kaidan swore to himself, no matter what Saren would throw at them, he would be her Sam. The rock to anchor her, the soft place to land, the person to remind her that she was not alone. He would choose to remain at her side, always. He slipped an arm around her waist and muttered into her hair, "I don't mean to, Shepard. I don't mean to."

#mass effect fic #female shepard #kaidan alenko #shenko #fshenko #shepard x kaidan #tavrien x kaidan #i don't mean to #part 1 #my fic #steph did a thing

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flighty37-blog · 7 years ago

Text

Managing (#1)

Summary: Dan and Phil are both pregnant at the same time. Experience the joys of impending fatherhood; ready for loads of bants and snark coming your way. My first mpreg fic.

Prologue:

Dan and Phil had been dating for quite some time.

In fact it had been almost a year.

They'd been living together for six out of those eight years they'd known each other in a flat. They had decided to share the same room, but Dan still wanted his bed and fairy lights, for when it got too dark, and so, with much aggravation, they brought Dan's bed in with Phil's and together it made an almost king-sized bed. And so they slept together.

Month 1, morning of the impending announcement:

Dan Howell was usually a light sleeper. He went to bed at four a.m., and by the time he crawled into bed, and had snuggled down with Phil, Phil was starting to try and wake up. Sometimes. But today....

"BLURGH!" A retching noise came from the nearby loo, and Dan covered his head with one of their pillows.

"That's disgusting!" Dan slurred/yelled out.

"I can't help it! It's the sickness!" Came the pitiful response.

"Embryo, it's not even been a month yet, and don't forget...." Dan's voice trailed off as he flopped over onto his back.

"I know, I know! Mum wants us to visit the specialist!" Phil called back.

"That she does. How is it that we both ended up preggers again?" Dan asked.

“Lots of unprotected sex, DNA, and a sprinkling of pixie dust,” Phil emerged from the bathroom, and grinned down at his flatmate, his lover.

"Aww Philly," Dan smirked, and opened one eye up at him.

"I like the pixie dust part," Dan answered, and sat upright on the bed.

“Awww Danny-Boy,” Phil responded in kind.

“Uh-oh!” Phil raced back to the loo. Coupled with his motion sickness, morning sickness had been a constant plague in the flat. Only Dan didn’t get morning sickness. No. He got cravings. Lots of weird cravings.

They had decided to announce their pregnancies on a live show.

Since their announcement that they were dating nearly a year ago, there’d been a huge support group. What if throwing a double pregnancy at their audience caused their sites to crumble? Men didn’t normally get pregnant, at least not two at the same time.

“Phil? Are you going to be okay for the YouNow Broadcast?” Dan was worried.

He had tried to be supportive, and he hated it when Phil got sick. He swung his legs over the side of the massive bed, and put on some gray jogging bottoms, and put on a black T-shirt. He went to get the mop. As of late, that had been their routine. Phil equaled morning sickness, and Dan was the clean up crew.

A couple hours later:

“So here we are, cutest couple on the internet….BLURGH!” Dan pretended to be sick all over the monitor.

Phil laughed a little, though not too much, as it might send him racing back to the porcelain toilet.

“As we click baited, we’ve got some important news. But since it’s real news, then it isn’t click bait,” Dan tried to reach out to their audience.

“You can’t just do that waffling thing,” Phil protested. And then he spoke some more, “I have an announcement. I’m eating for two!” He giggled and held up a pregnancy test.

“Really? Just like that? No music, no flare? Just ‘Ta-da I’m pregnant’?” Dan tried to look stern, but he instantly melted at Phil’s pout.

“Ta-Da! I’m pregnant!” Phil repeated. Then Phil spoke before Dan could again,

“And Dan’s got an announcement too! Show them, please?”

“Alright, fine! I was going to wait until we got Phil’s pregnancy questions sorted, but sure. Let’s make it doubly hard on me. I’m in the baby way as well. Thanks a lot, Phil, for ruining the surprise,” Dan held up his own pregnancy test.

“Now before all the doctors on here say, ‘men can’t get pregnant’....That’s true. It’s very rare. And since we’re rare, and very clumsy, it’s happened to us. At the same time,” Dan started.

“Don’t worry we’re going to see a professional,” Phil chimed in, as they fielded questions left and right.

“Phil’s mum, and my mum found a very good one,” Dan reaffirmed.

“We don’t know the genders. We’re not that far along,” Dan said.

“I have an inkling,” Phil grinned.

They banted, they joked, they answered questions and then they shut off the laptop. Dan yawned widely. It was after midnight, and he was tired. He had been unusually achy as well. Coupled with the weird cravings, he just felt weird all over.

“Let’s go to bed,” Phil said.

“Sounds good to me,” Dan answered. They made it to their bedroom, and fell face first onto the pillows.

The Next Morning:

“Wake Up Dan!” Phil pleaded for, what seemed like the tenth time that morning.

“No!” Dan mumbled against the pillow.

“We have an appointment,” Phil slid back the curtains, and Dan rolled onto his side to escape the brightness; Phil hopped onto the bed, and leaned over Dan’s long legs.

“She’s supposed to be really good!” Phil breathed in Dan’s ear.

“You don’t stop breathing in my ear, and you’ll be eating through a straw,” Dan gritted out, as Phil backed away slowly.

“Besides, shouldn’t she be making house calls or something?” Dan asked, as he tried to go back to sleep.

“Doctors haven’t been making house calls for thousands of years. Get up!” Phil tugged on Dan’s arm.

“Alright, alright, I’m gonna get up, but I’m not going to be all bubbly and fantastic,” Dan said.

“I’ll make you some breakfast,” Phil wheedled.

“Deal!” Dan answered. Dan sat upright and tugged on his jogging bottoms, black of course; and he put on a dark gray jumper.

He felt his stomach rumble. Bless Phil for braving smells and being kind enough to bribe him with breakfast, so he’d be awake enough to endure the doctor’s office. After a hearty breaky, they arrived at the doctor’s office via the Tube. Doctor Alicia Taran was an expert in male/male pregnancy.

She’d had several same sex couples come into her practice, that were in the ‘family way’, but most of her experience had, mostly dealt with, one partner at a time. This was truly an unusual case. The two men waited in the room, side by side, heads down, feet touching feet, hands holding hands, breaths stilled for a moment at a time.

The clock ticked in the corner. Each had their hoodies over their heads.

“What if we’re both high risk? What if one of us is high risk? What if….what if the babies don’t survive? And how do we know we’re even pregnant? It could be a fluke,” Dan’s insecurities tumbled out and under his breath.

Phil patted Dan’s hand. “Well, we haven’t been traveling recently so I shouldn’t be as ill as I am right now,” Phil said.

“It could just be a mutated form of the flu, or worse. You had swine flu before, what if you’ve got avian flu?” Dan peeked up and over at Phil.

“I checked remember? The specialist assured me that I wouldn’t be able to spread swine, or avian flu. You were there you nutter,” Phil responded, and playfully knocked knuckles with Dan.

“And since we’re on the subject of being paranoid. What about you? How do you know you’re pregnant?” Phil countered. Dan shrugged awkwardly.

“So that’s why we’re here. To really find out. Even though we both already suspect. It’s rare. Very rare, but like I always say….” Phil’s voice trailed off.

Dan picked the sentence up again, “Life finds a way.”

“Yup,” Phil nodded.

“Life always finds a way,” Dan repeated.

“So there you go. Explanation, explained,” Phil said, and patted Dan’s shoulder in a comforting way.

“Mr. Howell? Mr. Lester?” A nurse walked up to them.

“That’s us!” Dan said in a haltingly chipper way.

“Follow me, Dr. Taran will see to you shortly,” Nurse Hammerson said.

They followed her, both giving each other nervous glances. Once inside the room, Phil sat on the padded examining table, and Dan sat on one of the rolling stools, and started to roll briskly across the floor.

“Calm down,” Phil said. “Shouldn’t I be telling you to calm down?” Dan countered.

“I’m not the one using the floor like Mario Kart’s race track,” Phil doubly countered.

Just then, Dr. Taran appeared, she was dressed in sensible scrubs, and her hair was in a tight bun. “Hello, I have read your files and you’re both pregnant?” She turned the statement into a question.

“It’s the only explanation we can come up with,” Dan spoke up.

“I’ve been projectile vomiting for nearly a month, and that almost never happens except when I’m sat in a car or a train, or anything that moves,” Phil explained.

“And I’ve been having the most unusual cravings. For the past few weeks, I’ve been craving this peanut butter smoothie, with barbecue crisps, and some orange gelatin all blended together, and I’ve just been drinking the hell out of it,” Dan also explained.

“Right, right, well it sounds as if you might be becoming parents. Which, if this is what you want….” Doctor Taran’s voice trailed off.

“Well they weren’t planned, but we’re keeping them. If they are a them,” Phil said.

“Right, well let’s get on with it. Who wants to go first? Daniel?” She glanced at Dan who was leaning against the wall now, arms crossed protectively over himself. He shook his head,

Dan sarcastically smiled, “Phil likes to try new things.”

“Alrighty then,” Doctor Taran turned to Phil. “If you’ll be so kind as to lie on your back, and pull your shirt up just a little,” She instructed, and rubbed the goop onto Phil’s bare stomach.

“C-Cold,” Phil’s teeth chattered.

“Sorry,” Dr. Taran said, and she put the handheld monitor over him. There appeared a slight fuzzy blob on the screen, and Phil waved.

“She’s beautiful,” Phil gasped out.

“She?” Doctor Taran looked confused.

“I’m psychic,” Phil explained. Doctor Taran looked at Dan who shrugged helplessly.

“Okay?” Doctor Taran’s response was weak.

“My grandmother was psychic and passed the gift on to me, therefore I’m psychic and she’s gonna be a girl. Aren’t you Dorothy Catherine?” Phil asked as the blob moved towards the screen and seemed to ‘kiss’ it.

“Well ‘she’s’ responsive I guess?” Doctor Taran blinked.

“She knows who her daddy is! Don’t you Sweet Pea?” Phil cooed at the screen.

Dan had abandoned the wall and was sat next to his significant other, holding his hand, and smirked as the baby bounced about.

“Oh dear, I get motion sick. Could you please settle?” Phil asked of the baby.

“She can’t hear you,” Doctor Taran protested. The baby instantly calmed down.

“You were saying?” Dan and Phil asked at the same time.

“I guess I was wrong,” Doctor Taran answered.

“I guess so,” Phil grinned at her.

“Your turn Mr. Howell,” Doctor Taran guided Phil off of the table. Phil sat beside Dan, and held his hand.

“I can’t wait! Double the babies, double the fun!” Phil squeaked out.

When it came time for Dan to be slathered in goop, the same sort of fuzzy blob appeared. But something swiped across the screen. Dan lifted himself up, propping himself on one elbow.

“Did you just flip me off? How the hell did you even learn that?! You can’t even see the outside world! Don’t you flip me off again!” Dan was shouting at the screen now.

“No, no, little genderless child, who I am definitely not assigning a gender to, unless you want a gender, or if you want to wear a sparkly tutu and heels, I won’t object. But I am definitely objecting to when you flip me off. You’re in timeout now, and until you’re born,” Dan said.

“That was not nice, you don’t flip anyone off. Ever,” Phil’s quiet voice chimed in.

“Did you hear that voice? That was your other parent. Don’t go flipping people off,” Dan said.

Doctor Taran face-palmed. This was the most unusual ultrasound session she’d ever had, and she’d had plenty of unusual ones. The same sort of fuzziness swiped across the screen again.

“Okay, I warned you, you’re in timeout,” Dan said.

“I think we know you’re both pregnant, I’ll be overseeing your cases for the next few months; and if you have any problems, questions, here’s my mobile number,” Doctor Taran handed them a card that looked to be a business card.

Going Home:

“We’re going to be parents, confirmed. This is going to be such a maniacal, topsy-turvy household,” Dan worried.

“We’ll be fine. The kids will be well rounded, with senses of humour and tons of love poured on them,” Phil responded.

“Yeah, I guess, I’ve never been a parent before,” Dan insisted.

“Neither have I. But we’ve got two sets of great examples,” Phil answered.

“And we’ll have our mums to help out and give advice,” Dan said.

“Precisely!” Phil held up a pointer finger.

“Christmas is going to be so expensive,” Dan sighed.

“Again, family, the grandmothers will love to spoil the grands,” Phil insisted.

They arrived home from the Tube in one piece.

And they both went and called their families. Of course both mothers were thrilled, and both fathers gave grudging congratulations. Adrian wasn’t too sure about the male biological system, and being only fifteen he really thought it was disgusting that his brother was pregnant.

“All I can think about is placentas,” was his one and only wry comment.

“Thanks, thanks a lot Adrian,” Dan muttered, and said goodbye to his family.

Then another phone call….

“YES!! I’m finally going to be an uncle? I’ll be the best uncle that ever uncled, in the entire ‘Uncle-y Universe’!” Martyn said, very thrilled.

“That’s so exciting. So any names picked out?” Cornelia asked.

“Just the one so far; because Phil’s so sure it’s going to be a girl,” Dan said.

“She is! Her name’s Dorothy Catherine. I think I’ll call her ‘Dory’,” Phil decided.

“That’s such a cute name,” Cornelia gushed.

“Nikki, will be the best Auntie in the universe,” Martyn interrupted.

“Oh Martyn,” Cornelia said. There was the sound of a loud kiss, and Phil nearly dropped the phone,

“Bye you two love birds.” Phil ended the phone call.

“That was interesting,” Dan said.

“Well you know my family,” Phil answered.

“And you’re the shy one?” Dan asked. Phil shrugged and smiled broadly.

Dan threw a pillow at him, which he ducked but it grazed his shoulder. Phil stuck out his lower lip and sank down onto the foot of the elongated bed.

“You’ve injured me,” Phil said.

“Have I?” Dan sat down next to Phil

“You have,” Phil milked the injury.

“Well the carrier of your child is having a mini crisis,” Dan pointed out.

“The carrier of my child?” Phil furrowed his brows, as Dan leaned into him, using his patented stare to look deep into Phil’s eyes.

“I’m not assigning myself a role, just like I’m not assigning this kid a gender, until he, or she, comes into their own,” Dan replied.

“I feel bad for assigning Dory’s gender,” Phil sighed.

“Don’t feel bad. I’m sure she wanted you to know,” Dan patted Phil’s shoulder.

“Thanks,” Phil answered, looking less sad, but he leaned his head on Dan’s shoulder, and Dan patted his cheek.

“I’m so glad I’m back on solid food,” Phil suddenly said.

“It feels nice when I don’t have to brandish a mop every morning,” Dan said.

“That’s true, and not feeling the top of the porcelain top of the toilet is nice. I’m hungry now that we’re talking about solid food,” Phil said.

“What d’ya need? Anything crazy?” Dan asked.

“No, I just want some cereal,” Phil said, standing up.

“Me too. Let’s go eat some and we’ll have a nice sit down and eating binge,” Dan said standing up as well, and taking Phil’s hand in his.

They managed to make their way to the kitchen without a single incident. Luckily being pregnant sort of equalized their equilibriums and they were pretty steady on their feet. So far.

Month 4:

“So I’m thinking we’ll make it gender neutral, a nice soft yellow,” Dan said of the spare room.

“I like it, and we can buy things in bulk, and two cribs. We’ll need two of everything,” Phil said.

“Don’t I know it. We’ll have to buy enough nappies, and bottles, and clothes to provide for an Army. Even though there’ll only be two babies in the flat,” Dan answered.

“Maybe one day we’ll get a proper house,” Phil mused.

“A white picket fence?” Dan asked.

“If that’s what makes you happy,” Phil said.

“No, infinite Wi-Fi, that’d be a dream home,” Dan replied.

“As long as it’s free,” Phil chuckled a little.

“Always thinking frugally,” Dan returned.

“I know! Let’s order all the stuff online,” Phil suggested.

“Great idea,” Dan took control of the desktop, and Phil laid down on his back and looked up at the ceiling.

“Bulk?” Dan asked.

“Bulk, bulk, bulk it up,” Phil murmured.

“Things Phil Shouldn’t Say Volume 14,” Dan responded.

Dan ordered what they needed and he looked down at Phil who was still on the floor, but his eyes were closed.

“Come lay over here. You’ve got that look in your eyes,” Phil added.

“What look? You can’t see me, your eyes are closed,” Dan said, although he got out of the chair and went to lie beside his significant other.

“You forget, I am psychically connected to the universe. Ergo you. You are my universe, now get under my arm, and cuddle me you fool,” Phil blindly kissed Dan, and ended up kissing him on the arm.

“Yeah, thanks for that,” Dan grumbled good naturedly, and he cuddled as best as he could. Their tiny bumps touching a bit.

“They’re going to be almost twins,” Phil piped up.

“Close enough, but I think Dory will come first. She’ll be ready to see the world,” Dan guessed.

“Maybe. Don’t judge a baby by its cover,” Phil answered.

“Don’t what?” Dan made his way over to Phil’s lower body, and made it so that Phil was his body pillow.

“Ahhh much better,” Dan leaned back and closed his eyes.

“Sure make yourself at home,” Phil smiled, and put an arm over Dan. The two fell asleep shortly thereafter.

Month six:

“If I get any bigger I’ll pop!” Dan said.

“I look like I’m going to have twins, but there’s just Dory in there,” Phil piped up.

“I can’t even tie my own fucking trainers,” Dan replied.

“I don’t even know what trainers are anymore,” Phil opined.

“Sorry,” both said in unison. They helped the other out of bed, and made their ways slowly towards the kitchen.

“Mind the glass door,” Dan said a bit too late.

“Ouch! New brain cells!” Phil held his forehead and part of his eye socket.

“Yeahhh….Move out of the way?” Dan asked.

Phil moved and Dan slid the door open. They ate their meals in silence.

“We really need to move,” Dan said.

“After the babies are born, and maybe a few months old,” Phil said.

“If these cracks get any bigger, and if those people don’t stop drilling, and if that neighbour downstairs doesn’t stop with the sex noises, we’ll have to start looking; more than just glancing at the classifieds,” Dan said.

“Alright,” Phil nodded.

“I want a brick house, Wi-Fi, a picket fence, a huge garden, and you know just the stereotypical place where we can potentially raise a family,” Dan said.

“I hear ya. I hear ya. We’ll start looking soon. And then we’ll move when they’re about a year old or so,” Phil said, and patted Dan’s shoulder.

“I’m tired of hearing that damned phone ringing!” Dan groused.

“Me too,” Phil sympathised.

“We’ll look after the babies are born,” Dan closed the conversation.

He put the bowl in the sink, and walked out of the kitchen, slightly bumping his head a bit.

“Son of a bitch,” Dan said through gritted teeth.

“Not in earshot of the babies,” Phil protested.

“Damned door,” Dan gritted out, as Phil patted his back.

Month 7, Finished nursery/new arrival?:

It was the middle of the night. Dan was awake like usual, and he was recording the nursery’s new finished look. It was a good thing that both of them slept on their backs, because they were much heavier now.

“So we’ve got double the nappies, the two cots symmetrically in a corner, the little mobiles above the bed, and just all around cuteness,” Dan said into the camera as a twinge assaulted his back, and he grimaced.

He’d edit out the grimace later he decided. But then, a sharp pain through his abdomen brought him up short.

“PHIIIILLLLL!!!!” Dan called out.

“Yeah?!” Phil’s quick response, followed by a swift jog into the nursery, had his flatmate by his side in no time.

“What is it?” Phil looked concernedly at Dan.

“I-I think….” Dan squeezed his eyes shut.

“I think, I’m in labour….” Dan gasped out as another sharp pain hit, and he doubled over.

Phil helped Dan to the sofa and surrounded him with pillows, he called 9-9-9, and was assured an ambulance was on the way.

As they waited…. “Shit! My fucking water just broke!” Dan exclaimed between contractions.

“Oh dear,” Phil said, and he fidgeted.

Just then there was a banging on the front door. Phil let the EMTs in and they carried Dan down to the gurney.

Phil took out his camera, “Hi guys! So this is the ambulance taking us to the hospital. It looks as if Dan’s in labour. Hopefully we’ll have news soon.” He cut off the camera and hopped inside the back of the emergency vehicle.

“Did you just upload a video, whilst I’m lying here in the back of this ambulance, in agony!?” Dan gritted his teeth.

“Maybe?” Phil meekly answered.

“ARGH!” Dan grunted back.

“Sorry?” Phil furrowed his brows. Dan just blindly reached for Phil’s hand.

“If you’ll stop having a domestic argument for a minute….” The paramedic said, and put an oxygen mask over Dan’s face.

“Heartbeats are normal, everything’s pretty much regulated. Breathe Mr. Lester….” Susan the paramedic said.

“I’m Daniel Howell,” Dan managed to breathe out.

“Right, sorry, we just assumed….” The other paramedic, Fernando started.

“Not yet,” Phil sounded hopeful, Dan just glared at him, and squeezed Phil’s hand so hard, it cracked a bit.

“Not so hard Dan,” Phil pleaded. Dan squeezed harder.

“OUCH!” Phil bit his lower lip and his eyes slightly watered with the pain. Dan slid the oxygen mask off,

“Yeah, how d’ya like that? I’m in labour and you’re prattling on about stupid shit. Uploading a video without my consent. Arsehole,” Dan muttered.

“S-Sorry Dan,” Phil managed to splutter out.

They made it to the hospital, thankfully Phil was in one piece, minus the hurting hand, and Dan was still in labour. Doctor Taran met them, and wheeled him into the O.R. Phil was ordered to wash up, and then it was time for the cesarean section.

“I need medicine!” Dan yelled out.

“We’ve got an anesthesiologist on the way now,” Doctor Taran assured him.

“He’s so early and he’ll be so tiny,” Phil blurted out.

“He?! Tiny?! Phil? Did you know the gender before me?” Dan asked.

“You didn’t want to know, and I did, and I sneaked a sneaky-peek at her clipboard,” Phil admitted.

“Phiiilllll!!!!” Dan grunted, just as the anesthesiologist came in.

Dan was helped into a sitting position and they injected him in the spine.

“Jesus Fuckin’ Christ!” Dan yelped.

“It’ll be okay Dan,” Phil promised.

“No it won’t!” Dan yelped again, as Phil took out his camera and he chronicled the birth.

“You put that camera away, and be moral support!” Doctor Taran commanded. Phil reluctantly put the camera down, and went to sit beside Dan.

They opened him up, and a few minutes later, Dan was presented with a boy.

“He’ll probably be jaundiced, and he’ll probably need to stay in the NICU, but he looks fine,” Doctor Taran announced. Phil cut the cord, and soon the baby was washed and swaddled.

“Now hash out names,” Doctor Taran said. She and the others had stitched Dan up. Dan was groggy, and a bit high from the meds.

“I can see our house from here,” Dan slurred.

“Sure you can….” Phil, still holding the baby sidled up next to Dan.

“Names?” Phil asked.

“I want him to have both of our names,” Dan said, a moment of lucidity peeking through.

“James Michael?” Phil asked. Dan shook his head in the negative.

“Michael Daniel James Philip?” Dan asked.

“He needs to know how to write his name eventually, I don’t want him to have carpal tunnel so early in life,” Phil chuckled, and looked down at the baby in his arms.

“Michael James?” Phil asked

“Michael Daniel?” Dan said at the same time.

“I like Michael Daniel,” Dan said.

“Michael Daniel he’ll be,” Phil decided.

Then Phil questioned,“Last name?”

Dan sighed and answered, “I don’t care.”

“What about Michael Daniel Lester-Howell?” Phil prodded.

“I guess,” Dan yawned.

“Welcome to the world, Michael Daniel Lester-Howell,” Phil grinned, and Dan reached his arms up to cradle the newborn, and kiss his forehead.

“I see you hashed out the names right quick,” Doctor Taran said in an approving voice.

“Yeah,” Phil said, and Dan reluctantly handed the baby over, and then Dan was wheeled to the recovery room. Michael didn’t stay very long in the NICU, he was pronounced healthy although premature.

Two and a half months later:

Phil was overdue by half of a month, and he was getting tireder and tireder of waiting for the little one to come out. He hid himself in his room. He was cranky, and Dan was in charge of taking care of Michael, feeding the three of them, and being on top of their YouTube enterprise. Michael was, surprisingly asleep, and Dan, was just finishing up plateing some fruits, and vegetables, going to give Phil something to eat.

Dan looked over at the baby, “Your sister seems to be quite comfortable where she’s at. Like me. I wasn’t ready to see the world….”

He paused and then continued, “Just stay asleep for a few more minutes.” He padded to the bedroom, and sat beside Phil who was concentrating on his laptop screen. He nudged Phil’s arm.

“What is it?” Phil almost, not quite, snapped at him.

“I’ve got you some food you weirdo,” Dan answered, and Phil looked at the plate.

“Yummy,” Phil answered and settled the plate on the duvet. The duvet rippled with the baby’s movements.

“I wish she’d come out,” Phil said for what seemed like the millionth time.

“She will when she’s ready; meantime let’s make a collaboration video. You’ve been stuck in here for far too long. And whilst I like solitude as much as the next person, I miss you,” Dan wheedled.

Phil smiled a little and munched on a carrot stick.

“Besides Michael’s asleep,” Dan said.

“Alright, well done, you’ve convinced me,” Phil put the plate beside him, and got out of bed, steadying himself on the headboard.

“So you will?” Dan asked.

“Of course I will. Just need a shower, and a quick change,” Phil answered.

Dan took a moment to admire his partner’s body, and would have taken that moment to get in the shower with him, but a cry interrupted his thoughts and he went to see about the baby.

“Are you hungry?” Dan asked, as the baby looked up at him with tear filled eyes. Eyes the same shape, and probably would be the same color as Phil’s. He already had Dan’s hair, it would be interesting to see how he looked as he grew.

Dan found a dummy on the floor, washed it and stuck it in the baby’s still open mouth and the crying subsided. Dan smiled, and picked up the baby. He cooed at him, then put him back in the swing.

“I love you so much,” Dan whispered, and sat down on the sofa. He opened his own laptop. Phil walked in, and he leaned over the swing. Michael reached up and reached for Phil’s fringe.

“Hey hey, I just got the fringe how I wanted it,” Phil kissed the baby’s chubby cheek, and sat down beside Dan. He put the plate next to him on one of the tables.

“Ready?” Dan asked. Phil nodded as he munched on some carrot sticks. He was ready.

“I feel like a whale,” Phil muttered, as a slight electric shiver went up and down his back. He rolled his shoulders.

Instantly Dan was on the alert, “Phil? You alright?”

“Yeah I think so,” Phil said, and turned a slight shade of sickly greenish-white.

“I’m fine,” Phil repeated.

“Okay,” Dan said as they went live. But then Phil’s hand slammed the lid of the laptop.

“I’m not fine!” He stood and warm liquid seeped through his trousers.

“Shit!” Dan said, and he scrambled for the phone. First he called an ambulance. Then he waited, like Phil had done with him. He texted Susan Howell, and then he texted Catherine.

Susan, being a bit closer was there in a little over twenty minutes, she had broken every speeding law known to man, and she’d managed to drag Adrian with her.

“About time,” Susan said as she hugged Dan, and felt Phil’s forehead. The paramedics arrived, and Phil was loaded onto it.

“If I die, I want you to take good care of Dory,” Phil said, in between his breathing exercises.

“You’re not gonna die you ass. I went through this, and I didn’t die!” Dan ‘encouraged’.

“Thanks Dan. I feel so much better….Hee-hee-hoooooo….” Phil breathed in and out.

“That’a boy,” Dan said, and they got into the ambulance. It was the same procedure all over again, and soon they were in a recovery room.

A plastic baby cot next to Phil’s bed.

“She’s gorgeous, she’s ginger, and she’s asleep. Three very good things for a baby to be,” Dan said, as he gingerly held the baby girl in his arms.

His daughter, their daughter. Dorothy Catherine.

“Mum laughed, and was pleased at the same time when I told her the name,” Phil started.

“Really?” Dan asked.

“Yeah, and then she asked Martyn and Cornelia why they hadn’t given her grandchildren yet, seeing as they’ve been together for as long as we’ve known each other,” Phil said, and chuckled.

“What’d Martyn say/do?” Dan asked.

“He nearly choked on his water, and ‘Nelia said it would happen all in good time,” Phil said. “Cornelia’s good at smoothing things over. Just like you Phil,” Dan nodded, and handed the baby back to his partner. His life mate.

Epilogue:

A red brick house, a white picket fence, a huge garden. Two men were vlogging, while the raven haired one was grilling and wearing his ‘body builder’ apron. It flapped in the mild breeze, and two children were chasing each other.

One had unraveling plaits flying behind her, her ribbons ripped to shreds. Her hair was a dull red, almost a strawberry red, just like her uncle Martyn’s hair. The two were both wearing jeans, though the boy who had brown hair, and tri-colored eyes was wearing a rainbow striped jumper. The girl was wearing a pink sparkling jumper, she had dark brown eyes like Daniel. She suddenly tripped.

“Oh dear! I’ve ripped my jeans again,” she said, and looked down at her dirty hands, wiping them on the side of her jeans.

“It’s okay, I’ve ripped mine too,” The boy said as he caught his breath and stood beside her.

“Michael Daniel Lester-Howell did you undo your sister’s plaits?!” Dan yelped.

“Ha-Ha Papa Bear full named you,” the girl said.

“Shut up Dory,” he playfully slapped her arm.

“No I didn’t!” he turned to answer his father.

“Good,” Dan sat down and finished.

“Grub’s up. Let’s eat fam,” Phil said, as he plated up the burgers.

“Don’t ever say fam,” Dan implored.

“Hashtag let’s eat?” Phil tried again, as the children sat down.

“No! Stop trying to be trendy,” Dan said.

“Nobody says hashtag anymore,” Michael said.