#i miss the sedating meds i had

[halinski]

.

[topgunruinedme]

I Got Dreams But I Can't Make Myself Believe Them

Word count: 7.5k

Parings: Rooster & Maverick, Rooster & Iceman, Iceman/Maverick

Summery:

'Hey it’s Mav, leave a message. And no Ice whatever they’re accusing me of, I didn’t do-' He jabbed his finger on the screen again. Tears in his eyes. It couldn’t end like this. It just couldn't...please... It rang. Once Twice- “Hello?”

His face hurt. Pulsing with a vigour that he knew he should take his pain med and yet…he hadn’t. Because he deserved this pain. He deserved this. 

This aching, the dagger-like sensation deep in the muscle when he tried to move. Still, it was not even close to a fraction of what he made them feel. So, he deserved this. 

The pain. The punishment. They always did tell him he was a masochist. Fretting over his father being gone, whether Mav missed him, why  he  didn’t miss him. Worried about his mother's health, if they would lose the house, why wasn’t she smiling anymore. Would Mav stay or would he leave him without his favorite Bradshaw's; after all Mav wasn’t his babysitter. Was he going to be stuck alone in this world struggling to finish high school with the crushing debt of his mother's hospital bills and house lines that he discovered showed under her bed two days after the funeral. Was he going to die hungry or cold? And his newest one, would anyone care if he burnt in? 

At least he had an answer to the last one. No. It was so painfully clear now, he had pushed too far and they had given up on him. The phone calls and messages left unanswered, the lettered read tearfully and shoved in a box under  his bed  that stayed with him religiously through deployments. The Admirals who bumped into him occasionally in deployments which he  knew  was their way of checking on his health after all files can only offer so much. 

Yet…no one had come when he called. When he had laid on that hospital bed terrified out of his mind, cold, bloodied and half the mind that either he was Nick Bradshaw or he was seeing him. And no  one,  had come.

His NOK. His dad. He called. 

No one.

No one cared anymore.

He remembered the nurses holding him down as he screamed out in short panic bursts as what he now knew were  cold induced  hallucinations raged through him. He remembered managing to grab a nurse's arm and begged them to call his father.  Begged.  Over and over again, demanding she keep trying until they sedated him somewhere between the  forth  redial.

No one came.

His dad didn’t care anymore. 

He had gone too far and they had given up on him.

He pressed his face into the tattered plushy pushing down the whine of pain as it agitated the stitches on his chin tugging at the cuts. He curled around the soft toy in the limp bunk at his base housing trying to breathe through the pain. Wheezing as the position put a strain on his already sore ribs, bruised but thankfully not broken, but there was only so much they could do about the bruising caused by the harness. They marked up his chest, around his shoulders and down his back, making him look like a mummy who went through a fight and became a kickboxing victim. They weren’t pretty overall. He certainly wasn’t going to be winning any medals any time soon.

It was strange what  near death  situations did to a person. Twelve hours ago he was filled with such hurt, such hatred towards Maverick's actions, not him as a person but hurt about how he went behind his back and stopped him from succeeding…he just couldn’t see why they couldn’t have talked about it. Now. After spending all those hours alone trapped in a hospital wing, half aware of reality, strapped down to his cot like some dangerous criminal. All he wanted was to hold his father's hand. All he wanted was to go  home. 

But the question stood, did he even have a home to go back to now? 

He remembered the  crokard  post box from that time Mav had tried to teach him to drive and he accidentally mixed up his accelerator and brake. But despite the years, Ice never fixed it. Maybe he was also a sucker for memories. 

He remembered Ice’s fond smile as he helped apply the coloured paint to his hands after he insisted on putting their handprints on the mailbox after watching the new Disney movie UP. Ice had simply shaken his head, dug out some paints from one of Maverick's abandoned side projects and let himself be dragged out to the front lawn laughing all the way. 

He remembered the loose and wobbly handrail to the stairs in the hallway that always made Ice sigh and roll his eyes anytime he heard it creak, yet he never got it fixed even when Ron apologized for being too careless while roughhousing with Wolf and offered to fix it himself. 

He remembered the way Maverick would be waiting for him in the kitchen every morning before school. Chiding him to get dressed as he snagged a piece of bacon from the pan while Ice wasn’t looking only to complain that it was  hot,  when he  himself  was  bare chested  new and faded marks across his chest with low sweatpants on his hips, bed hair wild around his head. 

The way every Thursday without fail their house would be filled with his uncles, spread out around their living room in various stages of a food coma, gorging themselves on the sweets Mav would spend all morning making with a pleased smile. He always had been his happiest providing for other people, seeing they were happy. 

He remembered the board game night, the nights they would spend curled up on the couch together with some nonsense show that no one was really watching, and the nights they sometimes spent out watching the stars. 

He remembered them cheering at his little league games despite being tired from a long day at work or having just returned from a deployment, which he now knew they would have been dead on their feet just wishing for a bed. He remembered their concern muttering when he was sick and their fingers through his hair. He remembered Ice’s mother's lullaby that the man would hold him through the wee hours of the morning and hum under his breath when they thought he was asleep.

He wanted to go home, he wanted it all. But he had lost it all when he cut off contact. And he was half terrified that they were angry at him, every time he sat there and thought about calling, about turning up on their doorstep to ask for forgiveness he would just stare at the number of missed calls, he would think about the hundreds of voice messages. He’d feel the burning of the box of letters all unanswered under his bed as he laid down and hugged his goose plushier that they had given him all those years ago. No doubt abusing Ice's powers to discover his address when he heard that he was in hospital in his junior year of university. The seams were now ratty from how often he ran his fingers over them, the fur carefully taken care of but despite his efforts the old plushie was dying, and unlike everything else in his life it was leaving him too. He could no longer preserve the memories within it. 

He bit his lip only for the sharp pain that shot through his head to remind him why he shouldn’t do that. He winced, not from the way the fur rubbed up against the fresh stitches, although it wasn’t comfortable, but over the fact that Maverick was right. His heart jumped in his throat. He wasn’t ready. 

Because Maverick had almost just lost him like he had lost Goose.

He had been reckless, and   arrogant; he had been a kid thrown into a jet and told he was good, his ego was inflated and he  hadn’t been ready. 

And he had fallen out of the sky. He had burned in. And he was damn lucky he didn't take anyone else out in the process.

He had paid his price, and it had almost been his own head.

A few more seconds…  the doctor's words ran through his head like a gunshot echo, warning him of the tragedy that could have occurred.

What will you tell their parents when they don’t come back? When they come back in a casket. What excuse will be ready then Lieutenant…  His commanding officer  lecture  piggybacking from his nightmares,  what excuse will be acceptable then? 

There wasn’t one. This was his fault, his own failure. What would they have told them if he died? 

You have my condolences Mr Kazansky,  Mr  Mitchell. However, your son has died in a training accident - having not even made it out of Top Gun - by his own stupidity! 

Yeah, he could see that going over well.

He ran his thumb over the screen of his phone nervously, should he call? He had called- the hospital had called. But maybe they don’t answer unknown numbers, old people were like that… right? His fingers felt clammy as he took a shaky breath, whining quietly as he thumbed through his contacts to find the right number and listened to the phone ring quietly.

Once. 

Twice.

Three times.

Each ring felt like a bullet in the chamber, he could hear tone ringing out around him as tears welled in his eyes, a sob building in his chest as the phone clicked, the call unanswered.

Too close, switching to guns. 

'Hey it’s Mav, leave a message. And no Ice whatever they’re accusing me of, I didn’t do-'

He jabbed his finger on the screen again. Tears in his eyes. It couldn’t end like this. It just  couldn’t…please… 

It rang.

Once 

Twice-

“Hello?” A croaky voice answered, indubitably not Mav.

"Ice?" His voice shook, "Pops?"

“Shit ”  .  Something rustled loudly over the phone and he could almost see Ice scrambling to sit up on the bed. A  bitten out  swear carried lowly over the line and it almost made him smile as he heard something clatter to the ground with a thud, no doubt the older man knocking something off the bedside table in his haste to grab his glasses and slide them on his nose to look at the phone. “Bradley?”

He sounded so hesitant as if he was afraid he was hearing things. It pained him to wonder how often his Pops had woken in the middle of the night hearing his voice and wondering if it was real or a  sleep deprived  hallucination. How often it left his Pops laying in his bed curled up with his hands over his ears trying to ignore his imaginary self calling for him for help, and not being able to help the man come back to earth. How many times had his Pops suffered silently and alone and he hadn't even known about it. 

“Pops” he sobbed, chest aching from the force of his whine and the pang of his heart at the thought of how many times he had been the reason for his parents to cry, the cause of his parent's pain over the years. 

“Bradley baby. What's wrong? Come on baby bird, I need you to speak to me”. Ice’s familiar level tone sounded unusually anxious, “Come on daring, you can do it. Take some deep breaths for me”. 

He hadn't even realized that his  panic induced  sobs had pushed him into the dangers of hyperventilation. His gaps of breath between his  chest shaking  sobs became shorter and more panicked as he acknowledged the lack of oxygen. 

“Breath,”  Ice pleaded. “Baby please”. 

“He didn’t answer” he gasped out, whimpering “He wasn’t  there  ”

“Bradley, honey what-?”

He could hear Ice’s underlying confusion as he whined in pain hissing behind gritted teeth as he burrowed his face further into the soft teddy irritating his stitched cuts. “Mav” he whined, his voice muffled as he pressed it further into the soft fabric, ashamed of his clingy neediness for his parents despite being 25. The mortification of crying out to them over a little crash. He felt like a kid creeping into his parent's rooms during the night after a nightmare, sweat still clinging to his brow, stomach rebelling as he hovered by their bedside unsure whether to wake them or not. But despite the early hour they had always opened their arms to him, shifted and made room for him between them on the bed. Always. Maybe…after all this time, just maybe Ice could spare a little room to allow him a few moments to recuperate and shuffled away in shame. 

Realistically he knew that Ice couldn’t see him. He knew that Ice wouldn't care, that the man would simply look at him with pursed lips, his brows furrowed in concern and coo quietly as he gathered him in his arms, careful to guide his face over his shoulder to prevent him from aggravating his wounds further. Despite what many people thought Ice had been more of the mother hen type than Maverick. Mav had been the cool uncle, then he became the serious dad he needed to be but Ice, Ice had been the cool dad. Ice had been the one to take on his missing mother role, the man had melted into it without blinking. Always making sure that someone was there to kiss his brow and tuck him in at night. Who made him breakfast in the morning and took time out of their day to help him with homework when Mav got sick of trying to help him and stomped off frustrated. He was the person who would stand on the guidelines of his games with a cooler of drinks and bulled him into letting him apply sunscreen while he ate the sandwich he had been prepared for lunch while Mav got into an argument with the couch. Ice was the one who would smile at him empathetically holding him when he cried over a crush. Who gave him his  talk  and he was always there a hand away to allow him to crawl into his lap no matter how old he got to comfort him. 

Mav may have been his dad. But Ice had been his Mum, his Pops. He knew that Mav loved him in his own way, but he also knew that he was partly there for his guilty hand in his father's death. He also knew that Mav had promised Carole he would be there for him (Hospital walls are not as soundproof as you think Mav), that he would take his Godfather duties seriously. Whereas Ice,  he  never had to stay. He knew they were wingmen and they tackled problems together but Ice never made him feel like a problem. He always made sure he was included, he never pushed him. Ice never has to stay, and while the man harboured his own guilt over Nick, he never pushed it, never brought it up. They spent his memory day sitting on the patio in the backyard and  drank  Kool-Aid with him silently. Ice didn't have to step in but he did, he didn't have to stay but he chose to. 

He didn't think he could have a mum again after Carole but he did. And that was partly the reason he couldn't bring himself to hang up. Because despite his shame, the agony of his embarrassment and fury at Mav. Cutting Ice out had been the hardest decision of his life and now hearing the man's voice he couldn't find the strength to hang up. Not when he was so close, his smooth voice in his ear begging him to stay. 

“Baby” Ice cooed in concern, it was soft and familiar. It reminded him of the warm feeling of home, the same tone Ice would use as he sat on the edge of his bed letting him climb onto the man's lap clinging to him when his mother was in hospital, not caring that he was far too old to be doing so. He could almost see the soft frown and those gentle eyes staring down at him, and feel the carding of the man’s fingers through his curls. “Baby, are you looking for Mav? He’s out at the hangar tonight. The idiot forgot his phone. I promise he didn’t ignore it on purpose sweetheart-“

“The hospital called” he choked out “I know. I begged them too”.

“Hospital?” Ice sounded alarmed “Bradley-“

“I asked them to call and  he didn’t come ”.

“Bradley Bradshaw”. The soft tone shifted to a firm disciplining one, one he didn't often hear coming from Ice’s lips. It was rare to see him step up into the role of the displeased parent, but that didn't mean it hadn’t happened. Like when the man crossed his arms across his chest with pursed lips and a disapproving look when he caught him sneaking into the house  at  the early hours of the morning when he had been specifically grounded, or when he went drinking for the first time while underage or when the older man had caught him clumsy stubbing out a weed join on his windowsill eyes wide in alarm. This doesn't sound like Ice was disciplining him, no it sounded panicked as if Ice was trying to hold himself together and keep himself from panicking him further when his breathing had just started to slow to a reasonable speed. 

“Bradley baby, why were you in the hospital? Are you ok? God-  please  be ok” Ice sounded desperate. And for a moment it warmed his chest, the next it made his stomach clench uncomfortably. 

He had always taken Ice’s compassion for granted and he had used it against Mav more times than he could count to get what he wanted. He had been a spoiled brat and at the time he hadn't cared about what it would do to the two wingmen. And the worst part about it was that while Ice picked up on it he never made him stop even when it led to the two wingmen arguing or sleeping at different houses. But he always came back. It made him feel sick because  fuck  Ice really did care about him and he still cared about him. Even after he threw him to the curb, after he chewed him out, cutting away their bond and years of love with a rusty knife in hopes it would rot away and get infected. Even after he ignored every call, deleted every message and refused to read the letters and cards the man sent. Even after that horrid ceremony; after he so blankly disregarded Ice’s rank and achievements in front of  everyone . Ice had still stuck by his side. Because despite his  7 year long  temper tantrum, Ice had stuck by him faithfully. He had respected his wishes and avoided getting the same posting as him, doing his maternal duty to send him away if he was anywhere close to them even if he couldn't prevent himself from sending someone to check up on him occasionally to settle his worry. Even if he couldn't prevent himself from sending cards, or from sending him letters each deployment knowing he wouldn't read them just to remind him that someone would care if he burnt in. 

“Today was hop 31” he whispered out with a croak, the demons that accompanied the words settled on both of them, however, there was an unusual heaviness to his. As if more weight had been added on in an attempt to make his knees buckle and maybe there ha d.  Every time he closed his eyes it was no longer the spinning of the Pacific ocean around him as he was strapped into the jet, he no longer heard his dad's voices calling out in a panic, he didn't hear the sound of his father's neck snapping against the canopy or the rough tug of air as it detached. Now he heard the panicked voice of his wingman. He heard Hangman scream out of him  “Roosters heading out to sea! I repeat Roosters going out to sea! Permission to follow-” “Denied Lieutenant''.  He now saw the  stomach clenching  sight of mountains dropping around him as his jet dipped dangerously out of the training zone towards the sea where their adjective had been. It had been simple: fly through the terrain, don't get hit, and get back to base. Where had it gone wrong? When had Hangman’s taunts turned into fearful screams, when was the annoyed fighting turned into the sound of his jet screaming at him to pull up?

He let the line fall silent, taking a shaky breath trying to pull away from the shaking of the jet, the sharp tug of the G-force and the claustrophobic feeling of the canopy closing in on him as the piercing scream echoed in his head, his death sentence. 

“Low Altitude, pull up. Low Altitude, pull  up- ”. 

He could hardly hear anything but if that was the gun cocking then it was Hangman's fearful cry that was the bullet,  “Rooster-!” 

He squeezed his eyes shut and instead let Ice do what he did best and allowed the man to gather his evidence and piece it together himself. 

“I’m not Goose” he rasped out,  barely,  when the response took too long. Reminding the man of his hand in one of the worst mistakes of his life. But it was necessary as much as he hated it because he knew Ice, unlike Mav who blamed himself publicly not afraid to attempt to redeem himself for his hand in it, Ice suffered silently letting his mind run over the scenario looking for a way they could have saved Goose, looking for a scenario that didn't exist. Ice loves to torture himself, and like him, Ice  was  a masochist. “It was fine. I was on my way in and an engine blew. I couldn’t- I went into a flat spin and collided with the ocean” he continued and let out a humorous snort “I burnt in Pops”.

“Christ kid”,  Ice's voice sounded suspiciously wet.

“I’m ok” he mumbled, “I wanted you there.” He tugged the plushy tighter to his chest, closing his eyes as he listened to Ice shift the sheets and audibly stood up from the bed hearing the man mutter to himself quietly as he began to move around the house. There was the recognizable creak of his childhood stairs then a door shut and the phone clicked falling into a vain eerie silence. Had- Had he been wrong? He bit his lip shoving down a sob, his lips wobbled, his eyes squeezing shut. 

Had Pops- he hadn’t hung up had he? He wouldn’t leave him, right?

Pops loved him…he wouldn't leave him. He wouldn’t, but he wouldn't blame the man if he had. It’s not like he had done anything to instil confidence into the older gentleman. He had brushed him off, thrown his offers back into his face, disgraced the man's title in front of the brass and thrown more venom at the man in the last 7 years than he had shown love. 

He let out a wounded noise sob ripped from his lips, teeth chattering as his chest tightened. Ignoring the taste of blood in his mouth as he curled around the plush, squeezing it so tightly it made his shoulders ache and wrist click in protest. No longer making a conscious effort to keep the blood from smearing on the white fabric.

“Bradley?”   

His breath hitched eyes, snapping open, tilting his head back to look at the phone that had fallen from his grip to rest on the mattress to his left as he curled onto his side, the line was still connected.

Ice's worried voice wobbled through the line. “Baby bird can you hear me?” 

“Pops! You- you-“

“Deep breaths honey” Ice reminded him gently. 

“You didn’t leave ” .

“Never” Pops promised firmly. “I’m sorry darling I should have warned you, I forgot there was a lag when the phone connected to the car”.

He blinked and swallowed thickly, reaching up to rub the thick tears from his face sniffing snotty with a grimace as he used his sleeve to rub the evidence from his skin,. His voice clouded with tears as his still scattered brain tried to process the information “Car?”. His head was still pounding and the impromptu crying was not helping in the slightest but the nurse had told him he would be sluggish for the next few days until he healed, then again she had also told him to avoid phones and screens for the next 72 hours. Of anything it was their own fault for allowing him to talk his way out of having a supervisor to watch his every move. Telling him not to use a screen was like telling a pilot he couldn't fly when the new F-25 was sitting right in front of him. 

He was going to do it. He would do anything he had to at this point to hear his Pop’s voice, even if he had to fly to DC and burst into his office himself- that is if they are still posted there. But no, he remembered the creaking of the stairs, the sound was seared into his brain. They had to be down in Miramar, they had to be…right?

That was home. They wouldn’t change that. 

“Yes sweetheart, we’re going to go find that idiot of a father of yours” Ice chuckled fondly.

“Why-“ he stuttered hesitating as he worried the words around in his brain for a moment before finally dragging the dreaded question he's been worrying about since he stomped out of their lives 7 years ago from his lips, “Why isn’t he with you? Did I-''. Had they separated because of him? Why weren’t they living in the same house, they had lived together for as long as he could remember, they all had. 

“No Bradley. You didn’t do anything. He’s just at the hanger, said he needed to do some work on his baby” Ice soothed apparently knowing him too well, perhaps it was a leftover skill from having to learn how to predict his mood swings as a teenager but Ice had always had the knack of knowing what he needed in the moment. He had been so sure on more than one occasion that the man could secretly read minds, but maybe he just knew his thought patterns too well. 

He frowned in confusion, “He has a hanger? Like…his own?”

“I was not impressed” Ice huffed in assurance with a heavy  put on  sigh “If anything he certainly topped the retriever incident, I think he was trying to win some obscure challenge. Then again I wouldn't mind so much if he was actually home more and cared for it”.

“Retriever?”. His stomach clenched as he blinked away tears as he listened to Ice smile fondly as he recounted his wingman's antics. He bit his lip subconsciously. How much had he thrown away? 

Listening to the fact that their lives continued on without him hurt but deep down he knew he hadn't really expected the world to stop spinning. He hadn’t expected for them to stop living their lives just because he had left, but to hear confirmation that they moved on, just as he had…it hurt. 

How much had he missed?

“I came home from a meeting a couple of months ago and Slider was supposed to be watching him but apparently he got  distracted  ”. He let out a wet laugh as Ice drawled in an unimpressed tone. A woman then, they had always been Uncle Si's weakness. One he had seen the others exploit many times to win bets or escape babysitting duties. It was almost a game within the group, or at least it used to be. He could almost hear an Ice smile behind his grouchy tone “Anyway I got back and there’s Mav, dozing away on our couch with a baby golden retriever on his chest. She’s the cutest little thing” Ice cooed only to fall into a brief moment of awkward silence when neither men knew what to say before Ice broke it gently, “We named her Rooster”.

He felt like he was going to be sick. Even after all this time, after all he put them through they still wanted him just as much as he did. 

“Pops,” he cried wetly.

“I'm here baby bird” his Pops promised “Now. Tell me about what you’ve been up to in the last few years since we’ve seen you”.

“You're an Admiral, shouldn’t you already know that? I know you help keep Mav updated” The tone wasn’t accusingly just…tired.

“I do,” Ice said quietly, not bothering to do anything to hide his involvement, “But I want to hear it from you”.

So he told him. He started by explaining how he had driven to the edge of town and checked into a motel after he stormed out of the house, how despite having sent Mav away with his tail between his legs he couldn't stand staying in that house anymore knowing Ice would come home and convince him to stay. So he did what he did best, he fled. He told him about how he called up admissions to California University and reversed his refusal; one of the conditions of a bet he lost to Slider a few years ago that he would apply to the same university that his uncle had graduated from, at the time it hadn't meant anything to him a mere joke. He explained that the university had been surprisingly accommodating once he spun a tale about a Navy relocation that was changed last minute allowing him to attend the university, a lie that Ice lowly chastised him for over the line. How he packed up his limited belongings that night with only his broncho, a few hundred dollars in his account and a quickly  put together  duffle to his name and left that night to drive all the to California. Driving from dawn to dusk trying to sober up from his  7 hour  drive huddled up against the window of a coffee at 5am in  the morning  curled around a cup of coffee trying to stay awake long enough to get his keys from the rental company and crash into the first empty bed he saw. 

He laughed about how he met Jackson for the first time. How his roommate had been allegedly studying at his desk reading through the textbook for their economics and aerodynamic classes when the door of their dorm opened, but before he could greet him apparently he had chucked his bag, letting it fall to the ground and stumbled towards the only undressed bed in the room. Jackson had told him he looked like a zombie dragging himself around dead on his feet, bags under his eyes slurring as he muttered to himself, practically throwing himself halfway across the room at the chance of a wink of sleep, only to misjudge the distance and land half on the edge of the bed and roll off with a startled shout. Jackson had told him after laughing so hard he ended up tilting off his chair and joining him on the floor that he had just stared silently at the ceiling blinking slowly with a confused look as he registered  falling  off the bed.

He confessed how he spent that first night laying awake (of course that was after his frankly illegally long nap, if you could call it that) unable to sleep as he tapped his fingers against his phone that rested on his stomach, fully aware of the missed calls and messages from his uncles, his parents. But the burning need to respond just hadn't been enough to rival the flames of fury curling around his heart like barbed wire. He spent the whole of his first night conflicted, wondering if he should give up and change his mind and go home, that he should beg for Mav to tell him  why  he did this, why he wasn't good enough. Surely there was a reason, something he would fix to make Mav love him again. The memory of Mav recalling in on himself, jaw flexing as the words left his lips leaving a cold grip around his chest as Mav turned on his heels and walked out of the house. 

Go away and never come back  old  man. I don’t want murderers in this house! 

He told Ice about how he powered his phone off and got a burner phone for the first few months, unable to look at it with the burning anger that made him want to throw it at a wall hoping it would break. Knowing he wouldn't be able to resist the temptation to reach out if he saw the calls waiting for him. Knowing that he  needed  to do this, that he couldn't give in yet, that he needed to fight for this. For him. 

He told him about how he got a job waiting tables at a nearby mum-and-pop dinner run by an elderly couple, who reminded him of frighteningly grandpa Viper. About how the older couple had stepped in and who took care of him when he was struggling. How they bullied him into staying after his shifts for dinner or pushed hot chocolate onto him and waved away his money when he tried to pay, and how inventive he had to get to hide his tips around for them to find, knowing they would pull his ear  like  Uncle Wood used to with an exacerbated fond look. 

He relaxed back into the mattress smiling as he recounted his subjects and the people he met. Even going as far as to admit that he found most people his age immature and recounted some of the drama and frat initiation he had witnessed. He had never really gotten along with them, instead he chose to hang out with Jackson most days. Unlike him Jackson wasn't heading for the Navy, the man was instead aiming to work as a consultant for the Pentagon. The man loved aerodynamics but the man had admitted that flying made him queasy, and he very much preferred to keep his feet on the ground. 

He whispered out the painful admission of returning home for the break not having the will to go anywhere else for the holidays only to book out a hotel room and hide out there afraid of running into any of them. He recounted the nights he had sent in the cold bundles up in his truck outside their house watching the lights go off, unable to take the step of actually knocking on the door. Trying to ignore Ice’s sharp inhale pained with the knowledge that he had been so close. 

He talks about how Jackson and he lost contact after graduation both being busy with their new jobs as the man moved out to Texas and as he  himself , moved to Annapolis after finding someone who allowed him to enlist and how he got accepted into the academy. He talked about how he was the oldest kid there and the prejudice he faced from the other recruits due to it. How he was dismissed by the teachers and scrutinized by instructors who urged him to find a new career that suited him better. About how he graduated second in his class only beaten by one person, Jake Seresin. 

He discussed his frustration and rivalry that bloomed and continued through their deployments only to pop back up, like the leach he was because Seresin was a damn cockroach, as his competitor when he was accepted into Top Gun. How it was only due to a surprising friend from the academy popping back up, Natasha Trace, who kept him sane (and likely from being discharged from punching the man's perfect teeth in) and later became his best friend (one who was very unhappily to find out that they were being separated after graduation, she was being stationed out at Hawaii, hours away from his station in Japan). He talked about how close the points were, about how their rivalry seemed to fizzle out in the moment his jet tipped to the side unresponsive and the man cried out for him. How in that moment, the trophy didn't feel like it mattered anymore.

“They always did put too much focus on that damn trophy” Ice muttered, “The point of Top Gun used to be about being the best, as a team. Now… we’ve lost too much with the encouraged competitiveness”. 

He hummed limply as the conversation fell into a sort of lull as he realized how long he had been talking, it was almost 1:23am, almost 2 hours since the call started. And Pops was still here, listening. Who had recognised his distress, and had woken up at an ungodly hour to go and drive out to wherever Mav had boarded himself up for the night simply because he needed him. 

“Hey Pops”

“Yeah, kid?”

“I'm wearing your hoodie”. Part of him knew he should be embarrassed at the admission, he ran the cuff of the old faded grey hoodie between his fingers finding comfort in it even though he could no longer smell Ice’s expensive Italian cologne clinging to it. But he couldn't bring himself to be. Sitting comfortably on the centre of his chest covering his sternum was a dark blue and red image, a familiar image, a dark blue circle surrounding a white F-15, marking his chest with his destiny. The words that had been engraved in his mind long before he had ever set foot on the ground before him;  United  States Navy: Fighter Weapons School.    

“Your Top Gun one”. It had given him a connection to them all, being so far away from them, wearing it was the only time he was able to scratch at the nauseating homesickness that rocked his whole being. It had given him a homestead, the name printed across his shoulder blades connecting him to his lineage and the bond connecting his family together. 

Kazansky. Graduate of Class 1986, Top Gun.  

“I know,” Ice said quietly, “I noticed it was missing not long after you left. You know…there's a photo of you in it up on Penny's bar, at the Hard Deck” Ice corrected before chuckling lightly, “You've grown into it well, I remember when you were a scrawny kid and it just dwarfed you but you refused to wear anything else”. 

“I used to take it when you were deployed,” he swallowed, “It was stupid but it made me think that you would come back for it”. 

“Brad's,” Ice sounded wretched, “It was never the hoodie I came back for, it was you”. 

“I know. I know that now. But…it reminds me that maybe one day…you'll come home again”. 

“Bradley-”

“How is everyone” he interrupted sniffing and  swallowed  down his regret. There was a pause, clearly Ice contemplating chasing up the chain of thought before the man sighed reluctantly submitting to the change of subject. 

“Well, you have two new nieces and nephews. Wolf and Wood adopted a little boy three years ago, and Sunny's wife had a surprise kid a few years ago while he was out on deployment, surprising them both” Ice commented dully. 

He frowned in confusion, “But I thought Anna was infertile?”

“So did we” Ice hummed but slowly allowed them to fall into the comfortable lull of the conversation as Ice updated him slowly with everything he missed, careful to add in details he thought were pertinent; like Slider retiring from being an Admiral and becoming a commercial pilot, apparently the man was much happier now. Or Wood and Sunny who had co-opened a bakery and coffee store that they had named ‘the smiley shorts’ which honestly didn't surprise him as much as it should have. Or about how Cougar was working in a hospital under his wife who had been promoted to the chief of surgery. And slowly he started to mend a little more. 

“Bradley baby, you still with me?” 

He blinked tiredly not realizing that he had closed his eyes at some point, he tried to shake sleep from his limbs as it attempted to claim him. He yawned, jaw cracking in the effort as he rolled onto his back tilting his head back towards the phone where it sat on the mattress next to his head. “Pops, right here” he mutters in confirmation, “On your wing”. 

“That's right baby bird” Ice let out a small chuckle “Right on my wing. Talking about wingmen. We’re about to find one”. 

“Mav?”

“Yeah, darling”. The engine spluttered in the background, and he heard the keys jingle as Ice muttered lowly  ‘It's too damn cold for this’ . He listened trying to picture where Ice was as he heard a door opened then the crunch of dirt under boots. He frowned, brows pulling tensely as he tried to picture a desert, or somewhere with a vast amount of land that would allow Mav his solitude but was dry enough to crunch this time of year. He jolted slightly in confusion at the sound of old metal banging against something with a clatter and the loud noise of something heavy rolling. 

He almost wept hearing a tired confused voice, “Ice? Honey what are you doing here? It’s almost 3 am”. Mav sounded the same, that lovering concern that he had been on the receiving end of all those years ago and he could see the way Mavs eyes would be pinched in the corner, lips tilted down as he studied them for any injuries, trying to figure out what had happened before they could form a warped lie. 

“I have someone who wants to talk to you”, this time he could see Ice's smile, the one that bloomed behind his closed eyelids, the small jump in his lips that bloomed into a gentle smile as the phone travelled hands.

“Uh-hello?” Mav asked, sleep still evident in his voice and he slivered at the flash of memories of seeing the man stumble into the kitchen wrapping his arms around Ice’s waist as he pressed a sloppy kiss to the man's check knowing he would swat him for it as he did every day with a grumble only to pair a cheeky grin to Ice’s unimpressed loom. How he would stay attached to Ice for the rest of breakfast swaying with him a step behind the blond seamlessly ducking out of the way without needing to be asked, passing along ingredients to distract Ice from the wondering fingers trying to snatch a piece of bacon front he pan before it was plated only to end up with a lecture and a wooden spoon to his hand. He remembered Mav’s pouting only for him to turn with a wink as he used to stick his tongue out to tease them. 

“Dad?” His voice trembled faced the fact he was speaking to his father for the first time in just under a decade. 

Mav hailed sharply, “Baby?” Mav sounded awake, startled by the concern that dragged into his voice. He sounded  happy , shocked but happy. 

“Dad” His heart slowed his chest aching but relieved as the sense of home finally settled over him. 

Home.  

“Bradley honey what’s wrong?” Mav asked worriedly. 

“He said the hospital called you but you didn’t turn up” Ice rumbled in the background quietly allowing them to have their own moment, no doubt the man had led Mav to sit down holding him close, tugging him into his side. 

He could go home. 

“Shit, I didn’t have my phone- I didn’t realize until after I got here-”

“Dad,” he interrupted the man's panicked rambling with tears in his eyes as he looked down at the goose in his arms that had offered him so much comfort in the last few years but dispite the memories it carried, it was nothing to rival Mav’s hugs, or Ice’s kisses. It wasn't like curling up with Mav on the couch or being tucked in by Ice. It wasn't home. 

“Yes, baby?” 

He took a deep breath trying to push back the emotional overload that once again threatened to overtake him, that clung to him weighing him down in the ocean dragging him further underwater like a parachute filling with water with no tactical knife to free himself with forced to watch the rope tangle around his body trapping him as his body jolted at the lack of air. His voice trembled, breaking as the tears became evident in his voice, “Can I come home?” 

“Of course, baby” Mav sounded choked up almost as if he was crying as well  “God Bradley,  of course, you can come home. You were always welcome home”.

And for the first time in  years  he took a deep breath and his  heart felt  weightless  and  he smiled and thought of home, only this time, it was closer than he thought.

[callsign-muffin]

Heal Together: Chapter 3

(Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw fic)

I kinda want to make a playlist for this fic with all the music I mention in it. But I also work crazy hours and my writing time is my time to relax, so I don't know if I want to add something else on top of it if no one would care, ya know?

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.8k

“He started talking a little more last night.” Carly smiled after she finished giving you report, “He didn’t say much to me besides ‘thank you’ and asking for whatever he needed. Maybe you’ll be able to get more out of him, you guys seem to have really good rapport.”

“He responded very well to my sarcasm. Patient’s often don’t so it was a nice change.” You shrugged.

“Do you think he’s gonna be transferred to a step down unit?” She asked.

You nodded, “Yeah and I’ll miss him. It was nice having a patient I could actually interact with.”

Carly’s eyes widened, “What kind of ICU nurse are you? We love ‘em intubated and sedated.”

“A tired one!” You stated, “I need a few more sips of coffee and then let’s go sign off meds.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

Rooster was only slightly awake when Y/N and Carly entered the room to finish their morning sign off. They didn’t turn on the light, spoke in soft whispers, and used the glow of the computer screen as their light. He turned over groggily, as his vision cleared, he saw Y/N there. She looked so beautiful with her hair pulled back messily in a claw clip and her bright eyes quickly traveled back and forth as she compared the medications hanging on the IV pole with the computer. She moved about the space as if she owned it. Hell, with the way she’s helped Bradley the last 48 hours, she practically does own it.

“Good morning, Bradley.” She smiled down at him sweetly, “How ya feeling’?”

“Not too shabby.” His voice was still a bit raspy.

She feigned surprise, “Ah! He speaks!”

Rooster smiled up at her, “Soon you’ll be wishing I had that tube back down my throat to shut me up.”

She shook her head, “Never.”

“I see Carly removed your catheter last night.” Y/N inquired after finishing her head to toe assessment on Bradley.

He nodded, “About 2 hours ago at 5 in the morning. It was fucking awkward having someone 10 years younger than me touch my dick.” 

Y/N snorted trying to hold back a belly laugh, “I hate to break it to ya but that girl is more than 10 years younger than you.”

His face dropped in horror, “Holy shit, that’s a child!”

“She has the same license I do.” You shrugged, “She’s absolutely qualified to do what she does.”

“Unbelievable!” Rooster playfully rolled his eyes.

Y/N slightly pivoted the conversation, “You feel strong enough to get up and pee? Or do you need something to use while in bed?”

“Like a bottle?” He questioned.

She nodded, “We call it a bedside urinal but it’s the same idea.”

He nodded, “Yeah, I’ll try and get my ass up.”

“Good choice. You wanna try now?”

Bradley thought for a minute, “I mean… I probably should…”

“Alright champ, let’s do it nice and slow.” She moved his tray table out of the way.

He looked around, “Can you give a man get some privacy?”

“Not when you’re fresh off the vent. I’m not risking you falling ‘cause you have a shy bladder!” She rolled her eyes jokingly.

He grinned playfully, “Don’t go checking out my junk.”

“Already seen it and I wasn’t planning on doing it again.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

“Alright Lieutenant, looks like you’re cleared for transfer down to a medical observation floor.” A different older doctor from yesterday said with his posse of residents, “Glad to see you’re on the mend.”

“Me too, sir.” Bradley agreed.

The same resident from the day before, Carl Parks looked at you with disdain, “Nurse, I’ll get the transfer orders in when I can.”

“‘Preciate it, doc.” You fired back coolly. It was cute that he thought that he’d be able to get under your skin. 

They all exited and moved on to their next patient for rounds.

“What’s up his ass?” Rooster asked you.

You smirked, “The shame of being wrong.”

He gave you a questioning look.

“He didn’t think you were ready to get off the ventilator yesterday, I challenged him on it and the attending doctor took my side.” You explained, “Guys like him hate being wrong, their egos get bruised.”

He scoffed, “I don’t know how he’s smart enough to be a doctor if he was dumb enough to question you.”

“But what if this new unit sucks?” Bradley complained as you wheeled his bed down the hall and towards the elevator.

“All hospital units suck,” you scoffed, “Except for maybe labor and delivery.”

“I’m guessing my lack of vagina means I can’t go there.”

You stopped at the elevator and pressed the button, “You’d be correct.”

“Well shit.” He chuckled.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened; you carefully pushed the bed inside.

“This is a good thing,” you pressed the 3rd floor button, “the sooner you get out of the ICU, the closer you are to going home.”

Bradley sighed, “Yeah but… I’m going to miss you.”

“Really?” Butterflies began to flutter in your stomach. 

What the hell was that? You thought to yourself.

He nodded, “Yeah, you’re the first nurse that made me feel like a human being.”

You paused, taken aback by his words. “I don’t think you even understand how much it means to me to hear you say that.”

The elevator dinged again and the doors opened to your floor.

“I mean every word.” He said as you pushed him down the hall towards the medical observation unit, “You’re a good nurse— a great nurse.”

“Wow,” you stopped at the unit entrance and used your badge to open the doors, “Thank you so much for saying that.”

The nurse that was taking over Bradley’s care interrupted your conversation and helped you get his bed into the new room. You guys did your checks, you gave her a quick beside report, and you were good to go.

You looked at Bradley and sighed, “It was a pleasure taking care of you, Lt. Bradshaw. Keep getting better.”

He nodded and gave you a soft smile, “I will. Thank you for all you did for me.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

Two weeks later

It was Bradley’s first night out since before his deployment, it felt like a lifetime had gone by. He couldn’t wait to see all his friends at the Hard Deck and show them he was doing alright. The only one who’d seen him since he was med-evaced from the aircraft carrier was Phoenix. She was the one who picked him up from the hospital after discharge and took him home. He told her all about the angel nurse he met, how she bathed him and talked to him while he was intubated, how she was by his side to talk him through his extubation, how she made him laugh, and how he hasn’t stopped thinking about her.

“BRADSHAW,” Jake “Hangman” Seresin, his best frienemy, shouted across the bar from the pool table, “as I live and breathe!”

“We weren’t sure if he was living and breathing for a second back on the carrier.” Coyote quipped.

All the men greeted each other with big hugs and claps on the back. Despite their joking in the moment, those men were terrified that they were going to lose Rooster. Hangman was on the cot next to him in the infirmary as they were intubating him. It was a nightmare, to say the least.

“Glad you’re okay, buddy.” Bob said, “Let me buy you a drink.”

“Are you sure?” Bradley questioned, “But you don’t drink.”

Bob shook his head, “Doesn’t matter, I’m just so glad you’re here.”

Phoenix lovingly patted his cheek, “Awww Bob, you really are the best of all of us.”

“Truly.” Bradley agreed.

He could’ve sworn he was going crazy. He saw Y/N. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her. But to be fair, he thought he saw her everywhere. She hadn’t left his mind since the day he met her. But this time he heard her voice and her laugh in the crowd. His eyes scanned the crowded bar for a familiar face. BINGO! There sh was, waiting for a drink at the bar. With a familiar young, little blonde. Was that Carly the child?!

“Go find yourself a cute sailor or something!” He heard her say over the loud music, “That’s what I’d do if I was young and hot!”

“Y/N, shut up! You’re only 28, you’re young and hot too!” The little blonde nudged her.

Wow, she was just as beautiful as he remembered her. Though she was a little more dressed up, she still had that same calm and caring demeanor that she had every time she walked into his room in the ICU. She was wearing a tight white T-shirt and faded jeans, effortlessly beautiful.

“Oh no you don’t!” She grabbed Carly’s wrist as she tried to slip her card to the bartender who just served them their drinks.

Carly ignored her and handed over the card, “Oh yes I do! You’ve helped me so much ever since you started, I feel like I’m actually getting the hang of this nurse thing with your help. Let me treat you!”

Y/N pouted, “Fine! But no more after this!  You need to save your money for fun and adventure!”

“Yes, ma’am!” Carly saluted her like an officer.

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █

“Absolutely not,” You cried over the music at Carly and the other younger nurses that were with you at the Hard Deck.

“Absolutely yes!!!” Another young nurse, Madi handed you a tequila shot and a lime.

You groaned, “I’m too old for this!”

“NO YOU’RE NOT!” The girls chorused.

You looked down at the tiny glass, could your stomach even handle this anymore.

“Dooooooooo it!” Carly taunted evilly.

“Doooooooooooooooo it!” Sam echoed.

You groaned, “Ugh! Fine!” And you tossed the shot back like a champ, chasing it immediately with the lime. Your face contorted, “Oof it burns.”

All the girls cheered and threw their shots back together.

Suddenly the jukebox cut, making the room fall silent for a moment. Then a couple of chords slammed on a piano.

You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain

Too much love drives a man insane

You broke my will, but what a thrill

Goodness gracious, great balls of fire

Your head whipped around, wondering where the hell this piano was coming from.

“Holy shit.” Carly’s jaw dropped.

You looked in the same general direction Carly was, “Holy shit.”

“What?!” Madi asked over the loud music and singing. Many others had since joined in.

“That’s the patient Y/N fought Parks about extubating .” She explained.

You were still frozen.

“He’s kinda hot.” Sam giggled.

All you could choke out was, “That’s quite the mustache.”

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[awkward-tension-art]

Darkness on Umbara Chp.8 (Rex x Reader)

Chapter 7. Chapter 9.

Moment to Breathe

cw: Rex x Reader, Reader is a medic, incorrect military procedure, graphic descriptions of injuries, blood, swearing, death and battle, Spoilers for the Umbara Arc, Pong Krell is an asshole, reader insert, names of non-canon dead clones, Mentions of breakdowns, transwoman clone, Brief mention of inhibitor chips, reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), if i miss a tag LMK

Minors DNI

In the end, you had to be sedated.

When Rex was called to continue the fight at the airbase with the reinforcements, you panicked so badly Kix had to inject you to calm you down. 

Luckily, your mind wasn’t clouded and you still had your wits about you. You were still able to treat the wounded, but you didn’t miss how Jesse opted to ‘guard’ you and Kix as you managed to transfer all the wounded into the airbase’s medical facility. 

It was clear he wanted to keep an eye on you since Rex couldn’t. And, truthfully, this was the first time you’d had such a breakdown in front of the men. Kix had his own, when Tup tackled him, so the trooper most likely thought both medics of the 501st were unstable. 

Even if you were, you did your jobs.

The fight was chaotic as the Umbarans battled for their facility. Luckily, with both Jesse and Kix, you got every injured trooper into the safety of the medical bay before the fighting was even done. 

They didn’t have bacta tanks, but they had much needed supplies you used to save everyone you could. Not nearly enough for everyone if Krell decided to pull another suicide mission, but enough to help those that needed it right now.

Fyre. Vim. Oz. Ringo. North. Gabe. Tro. Tess. Zeb. Sante. Reign. Pheon. Dawn. Nim. Jamie. Hek. Recon. Mav. Zeo. Fisher. Hinge. Trident. Iron. Mesh. Steele. Bruno. Zeke. Jumper. Aura. Dia. Silk. 

By the time Krell had joined the soldiers, you and Kix hadn’t lost anyone else. You got the troopers stable, laying on cots, and sleeping as peacefully as they could. Those who didn’t require life sustaining equipment were sent to the barracks of the airbase to rest. 

You and Kix stepped outside once you both were done with the wounded. Jesse had been keeping a steady guard by the door, preventing anyone uninjured from coming inside and disturbing you.

The airbase belonged to the 501st. 

Umbarans who hadn’t died fighting, were led to prison cells somewhere else within the base. Several squads were already walking around, inspecting the Umbaran weaponry. A few were going through crates of supplies, such as weapons and ammo.

You remained silent as you followed Kix and Jesse through the base. The three of you met up with Rex, Fives and Hardcase. There was pride in your lover’s eyes as he spoke to the heroic pilots, “despite Hardcase’s flying, you two saved us all.” 

Hardcase sounded as proud and energized as always, “It wasn’t so tough.”

“You sure?” Jesse took off his helmet with a smirk, “You looked a little green when you came out of that fighter.” He teased the hyperactive trooper. All of them were in a good mood, finding the shred of happiness after such casualties. 

You wished you could feel the same pride and happiness. But your mental state, as well as the sedatives in your blood prevented it. 

“Mesh’la,” Rex turned to you, “Are you ok?” 

“No losses since we took the airbase.” you responded, blatantly ignoring his question about you, “The seriously injured are stable and resting in the med bay.”

“That's not-.”

“Captain,” His words were loudly cut off by Krell. The temporary General stomped towards you all, looking as displeased as ever. Appo was tailing him along with another trooper, “Report, what is our situation?”

The 501st captain stepped forward, “General, we have taken the base and cut off enemy supply lines to the capital.” His back was straight, standing at attention, as did the others. 

You…remained behind Fives, staying out of the Jedi’s line of sight. If Krell turned his ire to you, you couldn’t promise you wouldn’t do something to get yourself court-martialed.

The besliska raised a large hand and rubbed his chin, “Luck has smiled on you today, Captain.” His tone sounded smug, “Consider yourself fortunate.” 

“It wasn't all luck sir,” Rex kept calm and steady, not letting Krell get to him, “A lot of men died to take this base.”

Too many good men. You thought blankly. A part of you felt hollow and empty as the captain mentioned the lost souls.

The General raised his hands, and looked at the dark sky, “A price for such victory.” He looked back down and crossed two of his four arms, “Perhaps you’ll realize this.”

You didn’t miss Rex’s fist clenching in rage. Your lover’s fury was a rare sight. But dammit, Krell was doing a good job at bringing it out. Instead of lashing out however, he took a breath and lowered his head.

The Jedi turned and began to walk away, “Dismissed.”

You and Fives stepped forward. You placed your hand on Rex’s shoulder as the ARC trooper grumbled, “He’s the one who will never realize.”

You remained silent, only squeezing Rex’s shoulder before letting go. You turned and began to walk back to the medical bay, unable to be around anyone right now. 

At least those in the medical facility were unconscious. 

Once the doors opened, you were surprised to see a trooper. Hana, had been waiting for you, holding a bloody wrist, “Sorry to bother, Doc. One of the bastards were hiding and jumped me.”

You motioned for the trooper to sit down on an open cot, “Are sutures alright?” You wanted to save bandages and bacta. Just in case Krell tried to kill anyone else. 

Hana nodded, resting the injury on one of the small medical cabinets that were placed next to every bed. You pulled a chair, set the suture kit down, and immediately got to work.

During your stitching, you took notice of distinguishable features, since this was the first time you’ve seen the trooper without a helmet. White nail polish, small studs for earrings, hair pulled back into a bun, indicating length longer than ‘military standard’. 

You didn’t want to assume, but it wasn’t unheard of for there to be sisters among the troopers.

“Hana.” you spoke softly, “I like your nails. And your earrings.” It was a small push, one to ask the question without assuming.

Hana’s surprised look then relieved smile told you all you needed to know. She responded quietly, “I know it's not regulation, but…”

“Who cares about regulation?” You returned her smile, noticing that she also wore waterproof mascara, “If it's what you want, then no one should stop you.” Your suturing was almost done.

Hana nodded, looking at her nails on the hand you weren’t stitching up. Impressively, they weren’t chipped, “I might go blue, next time.” She murmured, “so I keep matching the 501st.”

“Why not paint one hand blue and the other white?” You suggested, deciding to use a patch to cover the sutures, “Something unique.”

It was nice, having a conversation that wasn’t about Umbara, injuries, the soldiers lost or Krell. It was just…about nail polish. A good distraction. Something to get your mind off your earlier breakdown.

By the time you were done, she settled on a pattern of half blue and half white. She walked out of the clinic, with a stitched up wrist and small smile. Maybe she needed the mental distraction of the doom and death as well. 

Despite losing so many…at least you made Hana feel better.

You sighed, putting your face in your hands as soon as the door was closed. You basked in the small clicks and beeps of machines monitoring the men's status, taking just a few minutes to breathe. After a second, you heard a shift. 

One of the unconscious troopers turned onto his side to get more comfortable. You inspected the medical equipment next to his bed to check his status. He was alive and healing.

All of them were alive.

The doors opened again, and you looked up. Rex was standing there, helmet off and looking at you with both love and worry in his beautiful eyes, “May I…come in?” He asked quietly, as if not to wake the men. 

“You don't have to ask, you know.” you responded, giving him a small, tired smile. It was endearing, how he’d become shy when you two were in private.

He walked over to you and brushed his hand over your cheek, “How’s your arm?” the captain asked, looking at the bandages you still wore. The bacta soaked gauze were doing their job, as the wound pulsed and throbbed in pain, indicating healing. Whether all your muscles would return remains to be seen, but at least the nerves and veins were being repaired. 

“It’s getting better.” you answered, reaching up to hold his face in your hand. Your eyes narrowed, “You need rest.” 

“We all do.” Rex mumbled, closing his eyes and leaning his face into your palm. He breathed deeply before opening his eyes to look at you, “Mesh’la,” His term of endearment for you slipped from his lips, “You’ve saved so many of my brothers.” 

That's why he was here. Because of your earlier breakdown. 

“I’m alright now, Rex.” you gently reassured him, “I…was panicked. After the battle with the tanks, and getting Silk killed, I was terrified I’d lose you.” 

Rex leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. One of his hands rested at your hip, holding you close, “Silk’s death wasn’t your fault, none of the losses are your fault,” his tone was so soft, so gentle, “You have saved so many of us, not just on Umbara, but on every planet we’ve been to. Every battle, every fight…you’ve done so much. For all of us.”

“I want to do more,” you responded, “I don’t want you to lose any more of your brothers…I know it's war, but…”

He sighed, “We are clones. We were made to fight for the Republic. Die for the Republic, if the situation calls for it.” His eyes held a certain sadness to it, “We are meant to be expendable.” 

“Not to me.” your voice was resolute. He wasn’t expendable. No clone was expendable.

Rex looked at you like you were the moon and stars themselves. He pulled you closer, kissing you passionately on the lips. Your chest met his armor, and he leaned into you, “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum…” he murmured when you broke away, “Gar cuyir ner kar'ta bal runi…” His forehead was against yours, holding you so tenderly.

“Bal ni kar'tayl gar darasuum,” you whispered back, taking in his warmth and love, “Gar cuyir ner oyay bal narser…”

He kissed you again, only pulling away when one of the unconscious soldiers moved in his sleep.

“I have to find Krell,” he mumbled, looking at you mournfully, “He may have orders…”

“Go, be the 501st captain, cyare.” you gave him a peck on the cheek, “Good luck dealing with him.”

He sighed and stepped back, leaving the medical bay. 

You watched him go before checking on all of them men. They were stable still, and luckily, a few were in a good enough state to wake up. A majority of them responded well to your neuro-check. Despite the good response from them, you wanted to keep the soldiers who sustained hits to the head in the med bay. 

However, there was an ARF trooper, Rush, who was still slurring his words. It was a terrible blow to the head he had sustained taking the airbase. Putting him back under the effects of sedatives and painkillers, you wanted to move on to everyone else. But…

Well, the Umbarans were technologically advanced. The life support and monitoring systems were intergalactic basics. All from the same base that you were trained with. However, they had systems and machines you had never seen before. You tried to use some of the more heavy duty equipment, but had no luck. 

One of them was a scanner, that you could tell. It resembled a datapad, but clearly had the technology and structure of the Umbarans. The screen had values and data that exceeded most medical equipment in the Republic. Your fingers toyed with it, trying to get the thing to work in your favor. Such a small but powerful scanner would be useful. 

Your shoulders slumped just as the med bay doors opened again, “Holy fuck you’re still awake!?” Kix’s eyes were wide, staring at you. His helmet was off and he seemed…somewhat refreshed. He probably got something to eat and took a power nap after Krell dismissed everyone. 

“Yea, there's still a lot to do.” you looked at him, holding the scanner, “Plus, I’m trying to crack some of this equipment.”

“The hardware and programming isn’t anything we’ve seen before.” The medic looked over your shoulder to see the tablet in your hands, “Oh? What's this?”

“I think it's a hand-held full body scanner. More powerful than anything in the Republic.” you answered, “I want it. But I can’t get the damn program to behave.” 

He stepped back, one hand on his hip, “Jesse and Fives are in the east hangar playing with some of their weapons,” Kix gave you a soft smile, “I’ll keep an eye on the guys here, take a break.” 

You couldn’t help but return his smile. It was clear the both of you had hit your limits with the losses. But now, after some rest, your spirits were higher.

After you gave an overview of each of the injured troopers, you left the medical bay and went to the hagar. The airbase was more organized now. Supplies were being moved, weapons were being inspected, and patrols were established. The 501st was very efficient. 

The hagar wasn't so organized but definitely had more energy. Several soldiers were on floating platforms, inspecting suspended starships. Others were working on the ships themselves, looking at the mechanics and wiring. It didn’t take you long to find Fives and Jesse. 

The ARC trooper was with Tup, having pried off a metal sheet from the ship he piloted before. The two of them were discussing something, most likely the controls or mechanics, as they inspected the inner workings of the Umbaran weapon. 

Dogma was seated nearby, cleaning his rifle while Jesse was standing at a consol, brow furrowed. He was hard at work attempting to crack the enemy hardware.

You approached, stepping in front of the console, “Hey Jesse,” Your voice was quiet, not wanting to distract the others, or wake up Hardcase who was asleep on the floor, leaning against the ship Tup and Fives worked on, “Are you busy?”

The senior trooper perked up, “Depends,” He leaned forward with a glint in his eye, “I can always make time for you.” you snorted when he winked. 

Dogma scoffed, “That is inappropriate.” 

You rolled your eyes, but handed Jesse the tablet, “Kix told me you were working on the Umbaran hardware, I was hoping you could help me crack this thing.” 

He raised a brow and took it, “What is it?”

“Some kind of scanner, I think.” you answered, sitting down next to Dogma, “But more powerful than anything in the Republic.”

“Might be easier than this fucking thing.” He smacked the console, “Give me a few minutes and I'll-.”

There was a yelp behind you and Fives tumbled off the starship, hitting the ground. The noise woke Hardcase with a jerk, who sat up and looked around confused. 

“I told you not to do that,” Tup looked at the ARC trooper's pathetic form on the floor, “I warned you that if you touched the wire, it would shock you.” 

“I know, I know.” Fives huffed and got to his feet and dusted himself off, “Fucking Umbarans and their…”

“I cracked the hardware,” Jesse raised the tablet, “It says Fives doesn't have a brain.”

“Son of a-”

You laughed softly alongside Tup who had paused his toying with the machine. Once you stepped up to the console, hand open, Jesse looked at you, “Oh, sorry. I actually didn't. I just saw an opportunity.” He chuckled. 

Fives huffed and swiped the Umbara gadget from him, “Give me that. I’ll figure this out.”

“What's going on?” Hardcase slurred from the floor.

“Nothing, go to the barracks and get some sleep.” Dogma mumbled, keeping his eyes down to continue cleaning his weapon. 

Hardcase looked around before he silently nodded and stood up, “Sleep well, buddy.” You bid him farewell as he stumbled out of the hangar. A part of you felt jealous at his ability to sleep right now. 

You…didn’t think you could. Not until all of this was done. 

Tup spoke your name softly, earning your attention, “Are…you and Kix ok?” 

Oh, he’s so sweet. Tup reminded you of a shiny fresh off Kamino, overly respectful, overly polite and overly shy. You hoped that with more experience, he’d break out of the shell, learn that you could be a friend, not just his doctor. 

You gave him a tired yet genuine smile, “We are, just needed some rest and time to breathe.”

The trooper nodded before looking over at Dogma, “Hey, Dogma, isn’t there something you need to tell our good doctor?”

The other trooper flinched before he nodded, “Listen, Doc…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things on the field.” His dark brown eyes were filled with clear sorrow and regret. His apology surprised you, but you appreciated it nonetheless.

“How’s your jaw?” You asked, crossing your arms. 

“Hardcase has a strong right hook.” He mumbled, looking away ashamed, “But it's fine…”

With a sigh you approached and put a hand on his shoulder, “It's not the worst that's been said to me.” you wanted to laugh at his surprised look but remained calm, “Apology accepted.”

He slumped his shoulders and let out a relieved sigh. 

“Got it!” Fives practically cheered, causing a trooper on a platform to visibly jump. The ARC trooper gave the scanner to you quickly before he dashed to Jesse’s side to help him with the console.

You looked over the gadget and began to toy with it silently. After a few minutes, the tablet responded to your touch easily. Wordlessly you stood and raised it to Dogma. 

After a press on the screen, a fan of light went over the confused trooper. He paused, looking at you, “Doc…?” 

The screen blinked, and on it, was an outline of his body. Next to it were values. 

Blood pressure. Heart rate. Blood count. Adrenal levels. Liver enzymes. Nerve response time. Bone density. Hours of sleep.

All important values in terms of health and wellbeing. On the outline there were indicators and when you pressed the screen, there was more information. You pressed the area of his jaw, exactly were Hardcase had clocked him. 

“Are you sore where Hardcase hit you?” you asked him and he nodded. After his answer, you perked up happily, knowing the scanner worked. However, there was another indicator in his head. 

When you pressed it, the information was…off. 

To test it, you scanned Fives, only to get the same result. Then Jesse, then Tup. All of them had the same result.

ANOMALY: right orbital floor, parietal and temporal intersection

Huh…weird….

[in1-nutshell]

Can I request TFP Bot Buddy who is like Bumblebee's sibling or twin? For angsty times, let's make Buddy brainwashed by the Cons and is forced to fight Team Prime and Bumblebee, who is probs still grieving about his sibling's supposed death, doesn't even know it is his sibling because they look different. Bumblebee doesn't even know it's Buddy, he just gets this feeling that they look familiar. Thanks ❤️

Oh!

Oh...

Buddy and Bee are going to go through some feelings whether they like it or not.

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy being Bumblebee's Twin and getting brainwashed into becoming a Con

SFW, mention of injuries, Angst, Familial, Platonic, Cybertronain reader

TFP

Bumblebee had lost his twin the same day he lost his voice box.

The two had been out on patrol when they had been ambushed by the Decepticons. He remembered the icy fear he felt when he was being held by the throat by the Big Bad of the Cons, while Buddy was soloing a bunch of Cons on their own attempting to get rid of them to go and help him.

He didn’t know what was worse at that moment, the giant claws digging into his pipes or seeing the chunks of armor flying off Buddy as they tried clawing their way to him with FEAR in their optics.

When Bumblebee woke up, he was absolutely devastated to find out that he could no longer speak and that his twin was missing.

He tried to leave the med bay multiple times that day to go look for them. Ratchet had to sedate him to make sure that he didn’t leave.

After a few weeks Buddy’s name was put in the killed in action section.

He refused to think that his twin was gone. They couldn’t be gone, not after all they went through.

But after a few years, he finally came to terms.

Buddy wasn’t coming back.

It was hard for many bots on the team that knew both twins, especially Optimus and Ratchet.

Optimus felt especially responsible for this, he sent the twins out on that mission. If he hadn’t then they would probably still be together right now.

Ratchet already felt horrible for not being able to fix Bumblebee’s voicebox but knowing that he couldn’t do anything to fix a broken spark made things worse.

It took forever to get Bumblebee out of the deep depressive state he was in.

To save some of the injury, the team didn’t bring Buddy up too often, maybe a reference or two but nothing too big.

“Hey Bumblebee, who’s Buddy? You guys sometimes talk about them, who are they?”--Raf

Most of the base freezing a bit.

“Did I say something wrong?”--Raf

“No, its just—”--Smokescreen

“Bep beep bop bop (They’re my twin. One of the best scouts the Autobots ever had in their ranks.)”--Bumblebee

“Really! You have a twin?”--Miko

“Twin? Wow! I didn’t know you bots had siblings.”--Jack

“What kind of stories you got about them?”--Raf

“Please!”--Miko

“Kids—”--Bulkhead

“Bep bep bop (its okay Bulkhead)”--Bumblebee

Bumblebee began to explain who Buddy was and that they went missing during the war.

He couldn’t bear to tell them that they were…

Jack, Miko, and Raf looked at him in awe, hearing all the stories this mysterious twin had gone through with or without him.

“Now they’re missing?”--Jack

“Bep (yes)”--Bumblebee

“Wow… I could imagine doing so many things without my family with me. You’re so strong for going on without Buddy. I bet if they were here right now, I bet they’d be so proud of you.”--Raf

“B…bep? (you think so?)”--Bumblebee

“I know so.”--Raf

“And just you wait Bee! When they come marching into the base one day looking for you, you’ll get to tell them all the stories you have!”--Miko

Bee could hardly speak with all the emotions starting to bubble in his throat.

Thankfully the others saw this and quickly tried to sidetrack the children giving Bee some time to escape the common room for a bit.

He escaped to his habsuite ready to let out a full sob when a blaring alarm came through the computers.

Bee quickly tried pushing some of the emotions down before heading to the common room.

“What’s the damage?”--Bulkhead

“There seems to be a heavy Decepticon presence in the area.”--Ratchet

“Close to the base?”--Arcee

“No exactly. But it’s in the area. Close by the canyons a couple klicks west.”--Ratchet

When they got there the Cons were at the bottom of a canyon next to a destroyed escape pod.

It must have been a big deal given that Megatron himself was there with Soundwave and Starscream.

A couple of Vechicons had come as well.

And what looked to be a new Con.

Must have been the Con from inside the pod.

They were talking to Megatron when the team decided to come out with their blaster out.

“Freeze Con’s!”--Smokescreen

“Ah. It seems that we have guests.”—Starscream

“Have you come to see the newest member of the Decepticon army.”--Megatron

“Megatron—”--Optimus

Bee completely ignored the exchange that Prime and Megatron were talking about and solely focused his attention on the new Con.

The Con as it turned out was doing the same thing as he was. Even going as far as mirroring his stance.

What happened next shocked everyone present.

The new Con lunged at him in such incredible speed, he barely registered the punch before he hit the ground and saw the Con jumping upward going in for round two.

No shots had been fired.

No orders.

Purely unprovoked attack.

That’s when everyone started fighting.

Bee barely kept up with the new Cons rapid attacks before he was face to face with the end of a canon. He couldn’t describe what he felt seeing the cannon firing up and not being able to move. One shot and it would be over.

Ratchet from across the battlefield looking at Bumblebee frozen in place at the end of a cannon.

“BUMBLEBEE!”--Ratchet

Optimus nearly getting whiplash seeing his scout frozen.

“NO!”--Optimus

Megatron slugging him across the face.

The Con froze hearing the name and turned off their cannon.

The Con had hesitated, and they looked… frightened?

No that couldn’t be right.

Right?

He quickly moved away from the cannon trying to get some space between the two.

The Con simply stared at him before turning to the sky.

The rest of the Cons were retreating through the groundbridges Soundwave had produced.

“Decepticons! Retreat!”--Megatron

Con looking back at Bumblebee one more time before transforming and racing into the groundbridge.

Bumblebee just staring at the spot where the Con had left.

“Bumblebee! Bumblebee?!”--Ratchet

Ratchet looked over his injuries trying to find anything potentially fatal.

Optimus looking over his scout and medic in worry.

“Bumblebee, are you all right?”--Optimus

Bumblebee slowly nodding trying to get up.

Bulkhead and Smokescreen helping Bumblebee back on to his pedes.

“What was that?”--Smokescreen

“Bep beep… (I don’t know…)”--Bumblebee

Meanwhile, on the Nemesis.

The Con was no better on the other end.

They didn’t know what happened back on the battlefield.

They had gotten a bit of repriming from Megatron, but they could tell that he was more worried about them acting so out of character.

“As one of our best and only scouts, I expect you to know that what you did was extremely foolish. We need all the Decepticons we must be online and functional!”--Megatron

“I am sorry my Lord. I think I was in that pod for too long and needed to get it out of my system. I promise, this won’t happen again.”--Buddy

“Hmmm… I will let this one pass as you have just arrived and the given how you put the fear of Primus into Prime. Do not expect this to be a regular thing, Buddy.”--Megatron

“Thank you, my Lord.”--Buddy

That seemed a good enough excuse as they were dismissed from the throne room and headed straight to their old habsuite.

But they couldn’t shake the feeling they had when they saw the wide optics of the Autobot at the end of their canon.

They felt so disgusted with themselves at that moment and… scared?

No, they didn’t get scared.

They were going to prove it to themselves.

That yellow Autobot was going to be the first to go.

[auschizm]

I was put on a pretty high dose of anti psychotics as a young teen (high enough to make anyone who takes it who hasn't developed some sort of tolerance to literally pass out within an hour and sleep for like, the next 12-24 hours), I wasnt diagnosed w any schizospec disorder (they just "suspected" schizophrenia on my file) because the clinic I was institutionalized in basically passed out anti psychotics like candy. At times like 70% of the ward was on them, but usually just 1 or 2 kids with an actual schizospec diagnosis. They just loved sedating us tbh.

Over the next like 8 years I kept going on and off anti psychotics, mostly the same one but mixing it up towards the end as well. What I found the worst (sort of, with some hyperbole. if you dont consider lasting neurological issues and some other wild dogshit it caused in my life over those years) is how uneducated every single psych I had was about the anti psychotics that they were Actively Prescribing People.

They didnt know common side effects including tardive dyskenesia, which I have to this day. I had to argue with them so theyd look up literature on it so they'd even believe my experience. They always were suspicious of me wanting to change my dose. They would make me switch meds without tapering the old one (?!), most of them never ordered the tests necessary to monitor your physical health while on anti psychotics (I forgot the names of the tests right now, oops)... often refusing to monitor me as i taper off of them because they didnt "agree" with it, finally one time my GP said he would monitor it. etcetc.

I dont really like... have a point to this. I just wanted to get this out for now.

I'm not even saying they dont help during phases of acute delusion (tho they never actually touch my 'long term' ones lol).. it's just that. At least here no psych seems to know what the fuck they're prescribing people anyways, so how the fuck am I supposed to trust them or work with them at all? I just gave up and have been unmedicated for a year now after tapering them myself as usual. I honestly dont miss it much at all.

I'm really angry you had to experience this. That the doctors who were supposed to help you did this instead. I can relate, and I'm sending my love and solidarity ❤️

[riley-coyotl]

My poor sweet Juniper has had a very rough week :(

tl;dr: Juni sliced her paw open pretty bad at the river, and had to endure her first ever ER vet visit to be stitched up, which involved a traumatic needle-stabbing incident during the sedation process (they missed the vein ~10 times...) A day later, she managed to get around her cone collar and rip out her stitches overnight, so she had to go BACK to the vet (thankfully this time her regular vet who she's familiar with) to get sedated and stitched up again, with a bandage on her foot for good measure this time, and a different cone that better accommodates her long snoot and teeny little neck. She is a very sad little doggie about it.

Details under the cut:

We took the dogs for their first river swim of the year, didn't even stay long because the water level was too high, and then while we were packing up to leave, noticed Juni was floating her back left paw in the air like it was hurt. Discovered she had a pretty big gash in her foot above her paw pad. No insignificant amount of blood. Took her home, cleaned it up... determined it definitely needed professional cleaning and probably stitches.

So Juni had to go get stitched up at the emergency vet--a vet she's never been to before, and has never met anyone there (and normally, Juni has trazodone + gabapentin on board for anxiety when she goes to the vet, but of course she didn't this time since it was an emergency and we didn't have time for meds to take effect.) To their credit, they were wonderful with her, very kind, patient, and knowledgeable on dealing with anxious dogs with Stranger Danger, and let us do most of the handling (everything possible) so she was comfortable being examined. To Juni's credit, she was very brave and very good, and I'm so so proud of her. She was quite nervous, but she did a great job relying on all her training and seeking comfort in us. She even did much better with the emergency handling by strangers than I anticipated.

Unfortunately, when it came time to stick her to sedate her so she could be stitched up, they had a hard time finding her vein with the needle. Poor Juni was shaking, had to be stabbed over 10 times before they successfully got her, and by now she had freaked out, struggled, sprayed anal gland juice, the whole nine yards. Legitimately, I think this was probably the worst day of her life. :(

Everything else went fine, and we even took advantage of her being sedated anyways to get some routine bloodwork done. Everyone at the ER loved her despite her wanting nothing to do with them. She's a scared doggie, but she's a good doggie.

Took her home, she sulked about her predicament all night. She had a normal "happy visit" appointment scheduled at her regular vet, and we chose to keep the appointment to let her experience the usual routine and nice doctor she's used to. It went well, I think it was good for her to have that experience to contrast with her scary one.

Later, overnight, Juni somehow managed to get around her cone and rip out all her stitches, and so the next morning she had to go back to the vet for the third day in a row, to get stitched up again. This time at least, she was able to see her regular vet and did MUCH better with her. We take her for regular happy visits there and practice cooperative care handling with our vet that she's familiar with, and this appears to have paid off even in the case of emergency handling where cooperative care was not feasible (she's not up to the point in her training where she will accept an IV stick from the doc.) No struggling this time, they got her vein on the first try, and they fixed her up, re-stitched the wound, bandaged it for good measure, and got her a cone collar that fit her better (long snoot, tiny neck...it's surprisingly hard to find!) While sedated, she also got the last two vaccines she needed done this year (lyme and flu.) Still, even though it went really well, I'm sure that was quite stressful for her.

Poor Juni has been pretty sad, she's really not happy having to wear the cone, and it is breaking my heart every time she stares at me with her sad face asking for my help to free her from being "trapped" and being unable to help her. She is gradually getting used to having to wear the cone, adjusting to it, but man. What a week. And no swimming, and reduced activity until her foot is all better...just sad :(

We are considering getting her spay done during her recovery for her foot so we can overlap recovery times, reducing the Total Suffering Time for her. We'll see.

Pics above are as follows:

1. Juni right after her injury, when I discovered she was hurt

2-3. Juni seeking reassurance at the ER vet

4. Juni practicing putting on + wearing the vet muzzle while we waited for them to come sedate her

5-7. Zonked Juni, waiting for her to wake up from sedation

8. Juni being sad after her ER vet visit

9. Juni being sad after having to get her foot re-sutured

10. Juni imploring me to help her because she's "trapped" :(

[whumpbump]

Cw: manhandling and restraining, describing the death of Whumpee’s mother, gun mention

Whumpee had been rescued and was recovering in a hospital. They had no assigned Caretakers yet and were in the hands of the hospital staff.

Because they had no assigned Caregivers, Whumpee was essentially ignored aside from bandage changes and other medical needs like bathing. Even while eating, the staff left Whumpee alone.

With no one to talk to or engage with, Whumpee began to crave attention in the worst way. Especially hugs. They hadn’t had one of those since, since before they were taken! They remembered their mother who would always give them hugs as they came in the door and as they left. But that didn’t matter anymore. Whumper took care of that, placing a bullet cleanly between her eyes as they dragged Whumpee, screaming, from their home.

Whumpee shuddered as the memory came and faded. They hated thinking about it, about her fate, and began to sniffle. They missed their mama.

A doctor and nurses entered the room. “Hello, it’s time for bandage changes.” ‘Wow they couldn’t even use my name,’ Whumpee thought, annoyed.

They sat on the bed and removed the blankets. As one of the nurses began to remove the bandages, one was stuck on a scab and Whumpee jolted. “Sorry,” she muttered. As she went to continue, Whumpee pulled away, not wanting to feel the sensation of tearing again. The staff looked at each other and then at Whumpee. The doctor spoke up and warned “You need to hold still.” The nurse continued pulling and Whumpee began to howl in pain as the scab was torn from Whumpee’s leg. Whumpee became more antsy and pushed at her arms to get her away. She wasn’t doing it right.

The doctor hit the call bell and two nursing assistants entered the room. “Please hold the patient while we resume the bandage changes.

With a nursing assistant on each side, Whumpee was stuck. However, as the staff changed the bandages and cleaned up their newly opened up leg, Whumpee couldn’t help but feel compelled to sit quietly as they had a warm body on either side of them, squeezing them tight. It felt almost like a hug in a strange way. It reminded them of their mother and they felt safer.

‘I could get used to this.’ Whumpee began to make a habit of fighting back exclusively so they could have a nursing assistant sit with them. They did so at baths, bandage changes, hell, if they were able to have a staff member with them, they would fight until they had it.

In a staff meeting, the doctor and nurses were trying to figure out what had caused the change in Whumpee’s behavior as this would be the opposite reaction that is seen in someone getting better. The easier the bandage changes and the more cognizant the patient is, the better it should be. They began to discuss potential psych meds to put them on and to have them sedated during any medical intervention.

One of the nursing assistants spoke up. “What if they’re just lonely?”

The doctor brushed aside the thought and continued to discuss four point restraints.

The nursing assistant spoke up again. “I’m serious. I think Whumpee is lonely. Have you noticed that once someone is with them or touching them, they calm down?”

The doctor hesitated. The nurses hesitated. “What do you suggest?” They asked.

“Well, one of us could keep them company throughout the day and be there for bandage changes and meal times and baths and everything that they need done. Realistically, they need a Caretaker. Has the social worker assigned someone to them yet?”

“Well, no, as a matter of fact. We were trying to wait to get them to a healthier place. I see what you’re saying though, they need engagement. Talk amongst yourselves to assign someone to them for this week and we’ll see how it goes.”

After the meeting, the nursing assistants planned out a schedule so someone would always be with Whumpee.

The next morning, after a nursing assistant brought Whumpee their breakfast, they pulled up a chair and sat down. “Mind if I hang out? We thought you might be lonely. Until we can get you a Caretaker, we’ll be keeping you company.”

Carefully listing while chewing their toast, Whumpee nodded. This sounded great! And it was great. With someone to talk to, Whumpee blossomed back into who they were. They made more progress in physical and occupational therapy, had support for bandage changes, and improved overall.

By the time Caretaker was assigned and showed up, Whumpee was in such great shape that they were ready to pack up and take them home. Whumpee cautiously reached out and held their hand as they walked to the car. Caretaker looked down and squeezed Whumpee’s hand with a gentle smile. ‘I think I’m gonna be ok.’

[littlebabyblue33]

I’m not full catched up on all the lore and stuff of what’s going on so I’m may be very off base here but I want to see what people think about this theory I have.

So I was thinking about how Q!Jaiden meet the two cucorchos and was asked to help them ‘again’ and then she seemingly went miss for a week or more and after she came back she seemed more happy go-lucky then what would be usual especially if she’s been ‘kidnapped’/trapped and then I was thinking about all these meds that the federation is giving to the grieving people (ie Q!forever and q!pac now?) and I thought what if the federation had know/planned for the eggs to go missing and knew it was a possibility that some people might need to be sedated and stuff so they developed a bunch of meds but couldn’t test them on the cucorchos or the eggs because they were made for humans so the week that they had Q!Jaiden they tested the meds to see which ones would do what they wanted them to do. Like it doesn’t make sense if the federation has had access to these meds the whole time why would they only just be starting to give them out? Like I think about Charlie’s rampage after Jaunafippa passed surely if they had the meds they would of give them to him. Also it makes sense if q!Jaiden doesn’t remember being tested on because it seems like the meds puts the person in a fugue state and they only start to remember things when the meds start to wear off.

I don’t know if I’m off base with this theory but I just thought it was interesting :)

[doodling-doodle]

Doodle

Where is part four of He's Not Dead But Still Gone?

Doodle

It's time for angst again

It's been a minute!

I will say... this is the last part, and y'all are finally getting a happy ending.

Don't kill me for waiting for so long.

It had been about two weeks since they got there. Since Kyle saw Dad for the first time in years.

He still wasn't sure about it. He had frequent calls with his therapist to stay calm, Alex was talking with him, admitting that he was also struggling with seeing him again.

Lilith was also helpful, offering to come down and see him, spend a few days with him. He was considering it. Just to get away from it for a few days

This was the first time he spent more then a weeks with the whole 141 since his and Alex's wedding. He wasn't sure how he felt about it, especially with not even seeing Ghost and Soap for more then a few days a year in the last seven years. But, it was nice seeing them. He missed them and they missed him.

But... His dad just seemed like a husk. He was there. He was him. He was how he remembered mostly. But he didn't remember him.

And he was more broken every time he looked at him.

But, every night... He would be on that bench by the water, and John would come out with him. To talk with him.

He was slowly realizing that he did want to talk to him. He did want him back in his life.

Alex was right. It was fine... Even if they didn't have the same relationship as they did before, it was fine.

He wished he didn't doubt him. Why did he in the first place?

Now he was going back to the hotel room, in near tears, because he was scared if Alex would say anything, get mad at him for doubting him.

He remembered his break down from years before, when everything was at it's peak, when he ended up in a mental hospital for a week after wreaking their room on base, giving Alex bruises in the process. Alex had told him what had happened that day, even in not great detail... but it was enough.

Alex was trying to hold him still, stop him from taking another picture frame and breaking it, from hurting either of them. He had punched Alex while getting out of his grip, and then ended up breaking another frame, smashing it on the desk and sending shards everywhere.

Alex radioed Laswell to get medics, who ran in and forced him down to sedate him, then took Alex to the med bay with him to treat his wounds.

He remembered being put into the car to go to the hospital, looking out the window to see Alex watching the car as it left the base. He cried his eyes out, not even able to say goodbye to him before he was put in the hospital, not having his phone to contact anyone. He would sit in his room, sobbing in his freezing bed, hugging a pillow and trying to pretend it was Alex.

He remembered being released, and being escorted out of the hospital, seeing Alex leaning on his car, bruises and stitches on his arms. He had started sobbing there and then, then bawling as Alex pulled him into his arms.

He said "I'm sorry." too many times to count.

Alex said "It's okay." too many times to count.

He always remembered it. He was scared about it happening again. He was scared about Alex's reaction if it were to happen again...

He shakily went into their hotel room, Alex just getting ready for bed as he walked in, turning to him and smiling softly.

"How'd it go?" He asked

"U-uh... fine. Still not remembering anything but he's at least it's... something."

"Good. Anything else? About anything?"

"No..."

"Your shaking."

He hated how eagle eyed Alex was sometimes.

"What's going on?" Alex asked, holding his hands softly.

"I-I... I didn't believe you..."

"About Price?"

He nodded, tearing up again as Alex pulled him to the bed.

"You were hurt, baby. Badly. You were left with thinking that he didn't love you anymore. And you couldn't bare seeing him. I don't care if I was right or not. I just care if your okay. If your happy. I don't want you to have another breakdown. Seeing him... has probably brought up more things from those years then before. You are so strong for seeing him, even if you weren't expecting it. I don't care if you didn't believe me. Because you thought it was too wishful. And I don't blame you."

Kyle nodded softly, a little relived, but still sobbing and shaking, "I'm sorry..."

"Kyle, look at me." Alex said softly, and Kyle looked up, tears running down his face.

"You don't have to apologize. Just... happy that it went better then you thought it would."

"I-I don't want to go back to the hospital..."

"You won't." He softly kissed Kyle's head, holding him close and laying him down in bed, "Go to sleep, baby. We can... talk about it when your calmer."

He managed to fall asleep. Laying in warmth, Alex holding him in his arms and him wrapping himself around Alex.

He was safe... He was home.

The next day...

John sighed as he woke up, Phil still sound asleep in bed next to him.

He always liked to look at Phil in the light of the sunrise. His hair would turn golden, his skin would glow, and when he would open his eyes, they would shine so beautifully...

Phil talked about all that was going on while he was in a coma... God, he wished so many things went differently, so many people wouldn't be hurt... Kyle wouldn't have left. Maybe.

He could have walked him down the aisle.

But wishing would do nothing... He just fucking wanted to tell Kyle, but... whenever they were on the bench, it would only be thirty minutes.

But maybe tonight... Tonight he would tell Kyle the truth.

"Your thinking." Phil said, making him look back to the bed, seeing him sitting up slightly, "What's going on?"

"I need to tell Kyle..." He said, sighing.

"It'll be good, John. He just wants you to love him."

"I know... I'm just worried about him. He's not the boy I remember..."

"It really shattered him, John. He's gone through a lot of therapy to even get to this point... And he had to have even more appointments since that day. Three times a week for the first few years, Alex would take him to a rage room at least once a week for months... Knowing that he's still your son, that you still love him. It would either make it better or break him. But you won't know until you tell him."

John nodded, sighing, looking back at Phil as he picked up his phone, seeing a text from Alex.

"Alex and Kyle are getting breakfast downstairs. Johnny and Simon are with him. You wanna go and find them?"

"Yeah... Let's go."

Breakfast went fine, they were talking about the weddings and everything. John's memory got brought up, which is when Kyle got silent.

"You alright, Kyle?" Johnny asked.

"Yeah- Yeah sorry, just... zoned out for a second." He said, and perfectly on cue, he got a call, "I'll be back." He stood, picking up the call from Lilith and walking out of the dining area in the hotel.

Alex sighed quietly, but decided to say nothing. Kyle was not in the headspace for dealing with anymore stress. But it was probably just Kaida checking on him.

Ghost decided to change the subject back to the wedding, which was in two weeks.

It just... Had to go right. Hope for the best.

Kyle seemed a little distant for the rest of the day all the way to dinner.

But he still went out to the bench to wait for John.

"There you are." John said as he walked up, sitting next to him, "How are you?"

"Fine.. You?"

"Been fine... Can I ask how you... know Simon and Johnny?" He was just... trying to see what life Kyle had come up with. If he had at all.

"Well..." He paused, clearly having to think about it, "Alex and I did some work with the 141 a while back. While you were in the coma."

"You kept in touch?"

"My team has... connections. When it comes to gear and weapons. Decided to keep in touch in case they needed anything... ended up becoming friends."

"I assume that said 'connections' are classified, though?"

"Very."

"Understood."

Kyle sighed, looking back out to the water. He wasn't wearing his mask anymore, at all around him, which he thought was a good sign.

"I, uh... I wish I met you earlier, sir." Kyle said, "Your a very good captain. A good man..." He was tearing up, and it made John tear up too. But he didn't see it.

He didn't want John to see it. To question it. No matter how much he wanted to say, "Dad" he didn't. He knew that it would make it worse again. He didn't want to go back to what it was seven years ago.

But... then John spoke.

"Kyle... Please look at me."

No. He was dreaming. This was a joke.

"Gaz. Kyle. Look at me. Please."

This was a fucking joke. A cruel fucking joke.

But he looked over slowly, seeing John looking at him genuinely.

"Son. I'm sorry. I'm sorry it took so long for me to remember you, I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. I didn't know where to start. How to tell you. But... I remember you. I finally looked at the pictures you left me, two years ago. I remembered everything. Phil had the pictures of just before Alex proposed to you... I'm sorry I never walked you down the aisle. I'm sorry I couldn't be at the wedding. I promised I would, then I never did... I knew you never wanted to see me. So I never reached out. No matter how much I wanted to..." He sighed, looking Kyle in his tear-soaked eyes.

"All I want... is for you to know I love you. That I remember you. That I want you at Phil and I's wedding. But if you don't want that. If your don't want me in your life. I will not force it."

He started sobbing, shaking his head in disbelief, "Dad...?"

"It's me, Kyle... Your my son."

He started crying, jumping into John's arms as he cried his eyes out.

His heart truly started to heal, after so many years.

"Dad...!"

"It's me... It's okay, my boy. I'm here now. Your okay."

He just cried so hard until he couldn't anymore. John held him for so long, even after he stopped crying.

"I'm sorry, dad..."

"You don't need to be."

"I-I was so fucking cold to you..."

"You were hurt. By me. I hurt you... so bad."

"I-"

"Kyle. No. You don't need to be sorry. I promise. All you need is to tell me what you want. Do you want me in your life after the wedding or not?"

"I-I want you! Please, dad, please- I want you in my life!"

"Then I'll be here." He said, pulling Kyle's face out of his shoulder, wiping the tears off his face, smiling, "I'll be right here. You'll be at the wedding... Right?"

He nodded frantically.

"Why don't you bring Lilith too? I'd love to meet the woman."

He sniffed, "I will..."

"Good. Now... Why don't you go off to bed? You can calm down, get some rest, and we can let the others know, okay?"

Kyle nodded, finally pulling away from him, "G-Goodnight, dad..." He said, standing and going back to the hotel.

He tried to make it look like he as okay before he got to the room, shakily opening the door.

"There you are- Baby?" Alex said, quickly standing when he saw that Kyle's eyes were so bloodshot, and his face was wet with tears, "What happened- Are you hurt?!"

"No-No...'

"What's going on, baby?"

"D-Dad... Dad..." He sobbed again, falling into Alex's arms, "Dad remembers me...!" He said, crying into Alex's chest, "He remembers us!!"

Alex was hit with shock and relief so fast that it gave him whiplash. He teared up himself, smiling softly, "Good... Fuck- that's great..." He said, kissing Kyle's forehead, "That's... Fucking. Amazing." He shook his head, sobbing as he took both of them to the bed, holding onto Kyle as they both cried.

Kyle was just exhausted from crying. He was crying so hard and for so long, and it was just so done with the day, even if this was great news.

"Let's just... get to bed, okay?" Alex asked, "We can... take care of the rest in the morning. Talk to Price. Tell the others..."

Kyle nodded, and they both laid down, holding each other as they fell asleep, finally happy and enjoying being there.

The next day...

"Holy shit." Simon said when he checked his phone, "John told Kyle last night."

"He did?" Johnny asked, a little shocked.

"Kyle texted me earlier. John told him everything last night. They're all talking about it right now."

"You think he and Alex are okay?"

"I'm sure. Probably just shocked..." He sighed, "Come on, let's go get breakfast."

They were alone for the first few minutes, but when the others finally came to see them, Kyle was genuinely smiling for the first time in a while.

It was... finally okay. They wouldn't be back in the 141, but, they finally started to be a family again.

It was okay. They were all okay.

They could all heal a little more.

Kyle had his dad back. and he didn't want to lose him again.

Ever.

[joellesolo]

So, I started taking carbamazepine (tetregol) on Sunday, which was actually planned out over a month ago by my psych and I at our last appointment in September because I did NOT want to have a repeat of caplyta and spent October as a zombie and miss out on Halloween events and the Something Corporate concert and Emo Night Tour and everything, you know? So that was the plan, to start it a night after ENT; cool right?

But then of course ENT gets cancelled literally two hours before it started, it triggers a manic episode (okay, to be fair, I was manic before it got cancelled, I guess...), I start the carbamazepine, and of course, have a terrible reaction.

And what a fucking WEEK to have a terrible reaction to it.

I tried to give it a couple days, but, I couldn't even walk up the stairs unassisted, so on Tuesday night Michael was just like, you gotta call your psych, and I was just like, so defeated... like, are my options to either be depressed or a zombie?! Because this is exactly what happened with the caplyta last fall. Except I gave that med three and a half weeks of being a zombie before I gave up on it and went back on vraylar. So I've spent over a fucking YEAR being depressed and ragey. And that's not fair to my girls...

So, I stop the carbamazepine, and, this morning, wake up feeling not great, but I wasn't falling off the treadmill like the last few days at least?? I was able to drive Peanut to the dentist and to school, which, I HAD to, so that's good? And I got home, and took the fanapt, and then got in the shower and semi blow-dried my hair and then... could barely keep my eyes open and fell down the stairs.

And then googled fanapt and discovered it causes sedation and drowsiness and could barely make it to the sidewalk when Lil's bus got home.

EMBARRASSING.

So I guess we'll see how it goes. I'm supposed to take another one this evening 😭 And increase the dosage tomorrow, and the next day, and the next...

Maybe I'm just doomed to be depressed forever?? Idk. Things are not looking good.

I'm swaying right now, and it's supposed to be nap time and it's taken me fifty fucking minutes to type this out 😭 I guess that's my cue to fuck this.

[empressgeekt]

Hammer FOF BTTS au. Not long after Branch becomes established as Keith's guardian, he comes across an injured Floyd while doing his rounds. Needless to say, he does not take the fact Floyd was hurt and had apparently been trapped for actual years unable to return to him and Grandma despite wanting to very much very well since he's have just come to terms with the revelation that his brothers had done him dirty.

Oh this is a fun idea.

The Gaurd would still be fresh, with Branch finally done healing enough to move and training, I could totally see him taking solo patrols for a break. One day he finds one of his burr net traps, with a troll in it. Branch is quick to get them down already pulling out his med kit to treat the cuts from the net..only to find their state worse then some cuts and weakness from bloodloss. They're half way this weird crystal appearance, and the other half grey. Obviously feverish and scared. Half awake they try to fight Branch off, and through their half broken words, Branch hear's his name... "Floyd?" "Branch?"

Branch would rush Floyd back, his older brother long passed back out. And after handing floyd off at the hosptial pod....he would have a break down at home. He loves his brother, and something horrible clearly happened to Floyd, however that doesn't erase the hurt that Floyd caused him. Poppy listens to him rant, she doesn't fully understands, but she listens. She manages to talk him into at least hearing Floyd out. And well...

Branch listens, but his feelings don't get any better. When Floyd wakes up he just wants to make sure that Branch wasn't just an illusion, so he clings to his baby brother the moment he sees him. Especially at the state Branch is in, colors dulled, covered in scars, and missing an eye. Despite the fact that Floyd can barely move, he just wants to pick up his little brother and hug him close for the rest of eternity. Branch feels angry, and guilty about being angry, and the answers Floyd gives him don't help.

Branch leaves and Floyd has to be sedated due to panic. Keith would help Branch through his feelings a little more indirectly. He's working on a story scene similar to their current situation, and asks Branch how to handle it...its Branch's answer that helps him work out the feeling with floyd.

Floyd still clings, but Branch is a little more distant. He can't give up his life just for his brother's sake. He has Keith, Poppy and the Guard to think about. Still he does help Floyd.

[vodika-vibes]

post Order 66 - Part 14

Commander Bly remains in the med-bay of the Starsinger, but has an interesting development. Kanna receives a strange holo.

Tagging: @starrrgazingbunny, @thestarwarslesbian and @xylionet

Kanna frowned as Bee started recited the various readings off the various machines in the room. She didn’t need him to do that, everything had been adjusted in such a way that she could read them, but she appreciated it all the same.

Especially right now.

She was worried. Bly had taken to fighting her gentle force suggestion to stay asleep, and they had been forced to switch to medicine to keep him calm and sedated. It was getting harder and harder to spend long periods of time in the same room with him.

He radiated such despair into the force that Kanna had to leave on more than one occasion to cling to Fox, or Wolffe, or, on one occasion, Cody. He had been terrified, but had lightly patted her on the head before shoving her off on Obi-Wan.

She was beginning to wish that Aayla’s spirit remained around. She had a knack for getting Bly calm. A knack that Kanna didn’t have. Fox would, and did, disagree. Wolffe did as well. Both men claimed that Kanna was perfectly good at keeping them calm, and that Bly is just sick.

It was sweet. But they weren’t making the point that they thought they were.

Both Fox and Wolffe were easily soothed by her because they were hers. And she was theirs. Bly was Aayla’s. And Aayla wasn’t here. 

Because Aayla was dead.

“Miss Kanna,” Bee interrupted her musing, “Commander Bly seems to be waking.”

“What? We gave him enough sedative to keep him out for 12 hours. Less than 2 hours ago!” Kanna said hurrying to Bly’s side, and worriedly running a force scan over the barely conscious man.

“Yes, Miss. Perhaps we need to up the dosage?”

“No, Bee! We don’t want to give him an overdose.” Kanna said sharply, before she focused her attention back on Bly, “Why? Why are you waking up? That dosage was used to knock out Jedi-”

She was cut of as something heavy slammed into her chest, knocking her back against the wall, as well as knocking the wind out of her. Only...Bly hadn’t moved. 

“Miss Kanna?” Bee sounded slightly distressed. 

And when Kanna turned to find out what was bothering him now, she was, legitimately, speechless. Bee was floating. As were the majority of items in the room that weren’t bolted down. Her stomach fell as the familiar sensation of weightlessness washed over her, as she was lifted from the ground.

“What the actual fuck?” Kanna breathed out, “That’s...the vod’e are Force Null!” She twisted so her feet were back under her, and she used her own training to force her feet back to the ground, and she quickly hit the intercom on the wall, “I need Obi-Wan in the med-bay.”

Apparently Bly’s will was greater than her own, as, as soon as she shut the connection, her feet left the ground again. And Kanna sighed.

“I do not like this, Miss Kanna.” Bee said from where he was floating near the ceiling.

“Suck it up, Bee. Obi-Wan will be here soon.”

True to her word, the med-bay door opened only moments later, “Kanna? Is something-” Obi-Wan was cut off as his feet left the floor momentarily as well. “Well...I can see why you called me.”

Kanna scowled at him, “Can you put me back on the floor? He keeps overwhelming me.” Kanna was, luckily, still mostly upright, which meant that Obi-Wan had no trouble placing his hands on her shoulders, and pushing her back to her feet, and wrapping his own force presence around her, allowing her to move without ending up near the ceiling, like Bee.

“Would you be so kind as to run a Midichlorian count on Commander Bly?” Obi-Wan asked, pleasantly, as he carefully maneuvered Bee down from the ceiling. 

“Yep.” Kanna was already grabbing what she needed to run the simple test she could run while asleep. And then, while the test was running, she darted around, grabbing the still floating instruments, and strapping them back where they belonged.

There was a long beep, indicating that the test had finished, and she carefully examined the results. There was a flicker of genuine surprise for a moment, “Obi-Wan, his count is higher than mine. It’s about on par with Knight Secura’s, actually.”

Obi-Wan frowned, “The vod’e were tested before, right?”

“I...don’t actually know. Bly is the first I’ve tested, in any event.” Kanna frowned, before focusing her attention on Bly, who was staring blearily at the ceiling, “Ah, awake.”

His gaze flickered over to Kanna, and then over to Obi-Wan, and he flinched. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Bly said quietly, miserably. Kanna made a noise of pain, and she gripped the counter with whith knuckles. Those near constant psychic bursts hurt.

“Commander, Bly, I need you to remain calm.” Obi-Wan said, leaning over the man. “I know you’ve been through a lot. But you need to remain calm.”

Bly blinked at Obi-Wan, bewildered. “I...okay?”

“Calmer,” Kanna said, sounding slightly strained, “You need to be calmer.”

“I don’t-?”

“Commander, you’ve, somehow, developed force sensitivity.” Obi-Wan was calm, every bit the man who sat on the council, seemingly unbothered by the psychic bursts that Bly was buffering him, and Kanna, with. “We have six force sensitive children on this ship, three of whom are under five. You must. Calm. Down.”

The seemed to do it. The nearly overwhelming presence of Bly retreated inward, and the painful psychic attacks completely stopped. “I can’t be force sensitive,” Bly said. “I just...I can’t.”

Obi-Wan smiling soothingly, and lightly touched his shoulder, “Are you okay, Kanna?”

“Minor throbbing, I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to shield you.”

“‘s fine.”

“I hurt her?” Bly asked, horrified.

“It’s not your fault.” Obi-Wan said, “No one knew you were force sensitive until just now. You didn’t know what you were doing. But now we know, and we can teach you control. Just like how we learned it.”

“...you should just kill me.” Bly mumbled.

Obi-Wan’s gaze was steady, “You don’t think we’ll actually do that.”

Bly slumped, “No. I don’t. You jedi types have always been better people than the vod’e.”

“Yes, well. When you can throw boulders with your brain, you learn to be a good person pretty quick,” Kanna joked before she downed two pain tablets. “Are you good here, Obi-Wan? I need to lay down, I think.”

“Yeah. I’ll take it from here.”

“Wonderful,” Kanna waved at Bly and slipped out of the room, already rubbing her temples. Her head was throbbing. She needed a dark room, and absolute silence. Maybe she could talk Fox or Wolffe into napping with her.

The first person she found, Wolffe as it happened, was more than happy to curl up in bed with her. Especially when she mentioned she had a migraine. The fact that Fox slipped into bed next to her, just before she finally drifted into her nap, just made it so much better.

*****

When she woke up several hours later, Wolffe and Fox were gone, though Luke was happily cuddled in Fox’s place. “Buir said mama was sick,” Luke whispered, giggling as Kanna started raining light kisses across his face.

“And where are your buir’e anyway?” Kanna asked as she rolled onto her back and allowed Luke to lay his head on her chest.

Luke closed his eyes as he listened to Kanna’s heartbeat, “Ba’vodu Bly was distressed, buir’e went to make sure he didn’t get hurt.”

“I suppose I’ll just have to forgive them for ditching me,” Kanna joked, as she lightly prodded Luke’s side, pulling another giggle from the little boy, “I am surprised you haven’t gone to play with Leia and Rhawl though.”

“Leia’s mad, and is being loud. Mama’s quiet.”

Well. Fair enough.

They cuddled for a bit longer, before Luke made an unhappy noise. “Mama, your holo is blinking. I get it.” He crawled across the bed, and grabbed the small device off the side table, and handed it to her.

Kanna sat up against her bed frame, and Luke crawled into her lap, before he handed her her holo. She answered the holo, and shifted it so that Luke could see who was on the call.

“Hello Padawan Kanna Rae,” A voice, familiar but not so much that Kanna was able to immediately place it, said.

“Itsa man.” Luke said, “With long hair.”

She knew a lot of men with long hair, “I’m sorry, who am I speaking with?”

“It has been quite a few years since we last spoke,” The man said, “The last time, I believe, was when you were 14 years old. Vokara took you on a relief mission to Taris-”

“I remember. We were asked to see if we could come up with a cure for the Rakghoul plague...there was another-” Kanna paused, and her grip tightened around her holo, “Master Antilles. It’s nice to hear from you.”

It really, really wasn’t.

He chuckled, “You needn’t lie, Padawan. I know you and I don’t really see eye to eye.”

“Luke, go play with someone.”

“Kay, mama.” Kanna didn’t say anything until she heard the door shut behind him, and then she focused her attention back on her holo.

“What do you want, Master Antilles?”

“Hm. The last few years have made you much less passive than I remember.” Jon mused, “You used to be much nicer.”

“The 14 year old me didn’t survive a genocide. What do you want?”

Master Antilles was quiet for a moment, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help,” He said softly, honestly. 

“If you had been in the temple, odds are you’d be dead now. Just like almost everyone else.” Kanna replied.

“Hm.” He was quiet for long enough that Kanna shifted and was about to demand to know what he wanted again, but he interrupted her before he could, “Did Vokara ever tell you about Respite?”

“Respite? You mean the long term medical facility located near Illum? Yeah, of course.”

“I need you to come to Respite.”

“...I have a son. I’m not leaving just because-”

“Kanna.” She stopped midsentence, “I need you to come to Respite. Just you.”

“And how, exactly, do you expect me to-”

“Quinlan Vos is headed your way now. He’ll pick you up and bring you here.” Jon interrupted again. “You won’t be gone for longer than a few weeks. Surely they can spare you for that long?”

“I...fine. Fine! I’ll tell the others that an old friend reached out and needs help.” Kanna snapped, “but I swear if this is another Taris situation-”

“Why do you think I’m sending Vos to pick you up? He doesn’t like me anymore than you do. If he thinks, for a second, that I’m putting you in danger, then he’ll kill me himself.”

Kanna scowled at him.

“See you soon, Padawan.”

**********

Quinlan Vos wasn’t happy. But, then, he hadn’t been happy in years. Not since the day his beautiful, smart, clever little girl was killed.

He didn’t blame her men. How could he? When Aayla loved them so very much. But it was hard to not have any resentment when he thought about it too deeply. But he had been managing. Slipping from one side of the galaxy to the other, helping people and then vanishing back into the shadows.

It was what he did best, after all.

Still, he was slightly happy right now. He was always happy to see Kanna, he had been the one to get her out of the temple, after all. And he had been the one to get her set up on Coruscant. 

So, when he saw her head of red hair when he got off his small ship, a blinding grin crossed his face and he immediately tackled her into a tight hug, “Hey there, little healer girl!” He said cheerfully.

“Hi Quin.”

Quin looked up, and saw several clones, and a couple of children, all of whom looked a little mutinous. "They're not happy."

"They don't particularly like that I'm going somewhere but not telling them where." Kanna admitted.

"With good reason," Obi-Wan pointed out as he walked over, "Hi Quin."

"...Obes!" Quinlan released Kanna and tackled his childhood best friend, "I thought you were dead, you asshole!"

Obi-Wan hugged him tightly, "Well, I thought you were dead. So the feelings mutual."

Quin pulled back and looked at Obes, he looked good. Not great, but much less stressed than he was near the end of the war. "You've been listening to Kanna about your health?"

"Sometimes," Obes quipped, "You know what healers are like."

"I can hear you, Kenobi."

"You're going to take care of our girl, right Quin?" Obes asked, ignoring Kanna's annoyed comment and even more annoyed huff.

Quin grinned, "I've been looking out for her since the Purge, Obes. Who do you think got her out of the Temple?"

There were looks of surprise directed at Kanna, who shrugged, "I'm a Healer, not a Shadow."

"But you were so good at sneaking out..." the man who could only be Commander Fox murmured.

Kanna grinned, "My Master knew where I was and what I was doing the whole time."

Quin clapped, "Alright! We have a long flight ahead of us! I'll bring her back in a couple of weeks. Maybe sooner, if the person we're meeting plays the asshole."

"He is." Kanna grumbled.

"Oh, absolutely. But we might as well hear him out." Quin scooped her up like she weighed nothing, "Later everyone!"

"QUINLAN VOS! PUT ME DOWN!"

*******

Respite was beautiful. Intentionally so.

Kanna had only been once in her life, when her Master was introducing Kanna to the Healers who were based there.

Respite was a secret. The Council knew about it, and the Healers knew about it, but no one else. Intentionally so.

The Jedi protected their own, after all.

There was a time when Kanna thought it was overkill. But, with the knowledge of who Vader was...well, she was glad that Respite was largely a secret.

"How does Master Antilles know about Respite anyway?" Kanna asked as Quin brought the ship down to the landing pad.

"He's the one who delivered me here when I started falling," Quin replied, "Since he was rarely in the temple, I guess he was the obvious choice for drop offs and pick ups."

"Shame he's such a jerk, though." Kanna grumbled under her breath as the ship came to a stop and Jon Antilles walked over to it.

"I don't trust him anymore than you do. But he is a good guy. Not nice. But good." Quin stood and led the way off the ship.

"Welcome back to Respite." Jon looked thrilled to see them, which sent chills of alarm up Kanna's spine.

Apparently Quin agreed, as he immediately stepped between Kanna and Jon, "So, why are we here?" He asked genially.

"Follow me,"

Quin made a motion for Kanna to stay behind him as they followed Jon into the facility. There were some people, former Jedi who could no longer fight or be around people, but the majority of the life forms were droids.

They followed him deeper and deeper. Until they reached the bunker where the most badly injured Jedi were kept for healing.

Quin was starting to get annoyed, "Why are we here, Jon?"

Master Antilles smiled at them, and pushed open a door, "Take a look."

Kanna brushed between the two men and peered, curiously, into the first bacta tank. And then she released a gasp of shock. "Master Windu?"

Jon grinned, "Every tank has a jedi in it. A jedi that Palpatine thinks he killed." Hr glanced over at Quin, "Including your own padawan."

"What...why are you showing us this now?" Kanna blurted, even as she grabbed a medical droid and started demanding information.

"They're almost ready to wake up. We need a place for them. And a way to get them there." Jon replied, "I figured you can help."

Kanna scowled at him, "I have to make some calls, but I probably fo have a place for them."

"Good. Make your calls. Follow me Quinlan." Jon said to the other man, "I'll let you see your padawan."

By the end of the week, the first of the Jedi were woken, and slipped onto a cargo ship headed towards Home. With Kanna safely on board, to teach them what they missed while they were sleeping.

[ladyfogg]

May I? - 38/?

May I? - 38/?

Fic Summary: Ensign Faith Diaz struggles to hide her mental illness from her fellow shipmates aboard the Enterprise until an intrigued Data goes out of his way to try to understand her behavior. At his insistence, Faith tries to figure out what she’s truly passionate about and eventually seeks the professional help she needs. Fic Masterpost.

Fic Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Data/Female OC

Warnings: tw: depression, tw: anxiety, fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut

The walk back to their quarters felt like a dream. 

With Data’s help, Faith was able to walk mostly straight. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been so heavily sedated. Not even whatever Fajo used to put her to sleep had been as potent as whatever Beverly injected her with. She couldn’t even bring herself to be concerned about being pulled from duty or missing her first training session with Worf. 

All she could focus on was getting into their bed.

Which was why the first thing she did as soon as they got there was fall face-first into her pillow as she let out a low groan of frustration. 

“I agree,” Data said, standing by her side. “It had been a long day.”

Faith turned to study him, wondering how he felt about everything. That was when she noticed Data visibly shifted his weight from one foot to the other. His face took on a pinched expression. 

“Everything okay?” she asked. 

“I do not know. I am…uncomfortable.”

“In what way?”

“I do not know. It feels urgent.”

It took Faith’s muddled brain to realize what was going on. “Data,” she chuckled. “I think you might have to go to the bathroom.”

He cocked his head in thought. “But, I do not have a bladder.”

“Who knows how Q made any of your new human functions possible? I think you should go just to check.”

His shifting became more urgent. “Perhaps you are correct. Excuse me.”

Faith had to admit, watching Data shuffle awkwardly to the bathroom amused her. She thought once she was alone her mind would start to spiral but the medication prevented it. In actuality, she didn’t know how she felt anymore. Numb was the best description. And hungry. She had just pushed herself up to sit when Data emerged from the bathroom, looking relieved. 

“You were right,” he said. “I had to use the restroom. It was fascinating.”

Faith snorted in amusement. “I love you, Data. Only you would find going to the bathroom interesting.”

“A preferable experience to hurting my hand earlier.”

“Wait, you hurt your hand? When?”

Data sat next to her. “I hit my fist on the table and there was a shooting sensation. Do not worry, I did not injure myself. My hand feels fine.”

“Well, that answers one of the many questions I have about what’s going on,” she said. “I was afraid you would feel pain.”

“And hunger,” he said, pressing his hand to his stomach. “There is an emptiness that is most distracting.”

“Sounds like we both should eat something.”

Data perked up and immediately got to his feet. “I will get us something. What are you in the mood for? Or would you rather I decide? I know when your anxiety is heightened decision-making is difficult.”

“Right now, with these meds, I could eat a horse.”

He paused on his way to the replicator and looked at her with surprise. “I did not know horse meat was a delicacy.”

“It isn’t, not for me at least. It’s just an expression. It means I am very hungry and want to eat a large meal. And we both should drink water.”

“Very true.” Data scrolled through the replicator’s menu, looking at the more popular options. “This is intriguing. I find myself torn as to what food I would like to sample first.”

She could see how excited he was and it made her smile as she slowly got to her feet. “I think I know exactly what we should have,” she said as she shuffled over to him. 

He reached for her to assist. “Faith, please be careful. Perhaps you should sit.”

Faith waved him off. “I’ll be fine. We have a rare chance for you to experience something you’ve been wanting since you were activated. And it’s my duty as your partner to assist when I can.” She immediately began inputting her own menu. “Also, when you’re extremely hungry you need to ease yourself into eating otherwise you could make yourself sick.” She tapped the replicator a few more times and then hit enter. “There.”

A large platter of Earth finger foods materialized and the smells made Faith’s mouth water. Next to her, Data inhaled and his eyes widened. “This smells delicious,” he said in awe. “I know what delicious smells like.” 

“Just wait until you taste it. Carry it to the table for me,” she said, patting his arm. “I’ll get us drinks.”

Data did as she said and she joined him a moment later with a tray of various drinks, a large jug of water at the center. The table barely held everything. Data’s eyes kept darting from one food item to another and she could tell he was still unsure of what to try first. 

“There are many options,” he said. “I do not know where to begin.”

“I know what you mean.” Faith smiled, her mind briefly lost to memory. “When I was a kid and mom had a long day, she would replicate a similar meal for us because neither one of us could decide on one thing to eat. So we chose to eat them all and I never knew what I wanted first.” She reached for one of the plates. “We will start simple. Warm Italian bread with herb butter.”

She picked up a piece, dipped it in the melted butter, and held it out to Data. The android took it and immediately popped it into his mouth. As he chewed, he had the same thoughtful look he had when working on a complex problem.

“Interesting. A well-paired combination with subtle flavoring,” he said. “Provides a sense of comfort.” He paused again as he chewed and swallowed. “Acceptable.”

“Then let’s try something a little more robust. These are quesadillas, particularly chicken and cheese, with grilled onions and peppers. Here, try a bite.” 

She held the quesadilla out to Data who dutifully took a fairly large bite. The moment he did, his eyes widened as he chewed. “This is very different,” he exclaimed. “This is so much more.”

“Do you like it?”

He nodded enthusiastically while he swallowed. “Fascinating. Absolutely fascinating.”

“Wait until you try it with guacamole.”

“Are any of these particular delicacies from your culture.”

“No. I actually haven’t had Puerto Rican food in many years.”

“Why not?”

Faith smiled as he took the rest of the quesadilla from her and devoured it in two bites. “Replicators don’t do the dishes justice. My mom taught me how to cook them by hand and I always felt they tasted better that way.”

“Will you cook them for me someday?”

“Even if you may not be able to taste them by then?”

Data nodded enthusiastically, reaching for a glass of water. “I wish to experience every part of your culture if you would like to share.”

“I would, very much. Actually, for our next shore leave, I want to bring you to my family home.”

Data smiled and reached across the table to take her hand. “I would like that as well.”

Faith had to admit that wasn’t how she expected the evening to go. She felt like it had been the longest day of her life and even after all the terrible things that happened, she and Data were able to share a quiet, uninterrupted meal. He tried a little bit of everything while Faith focused on her favorites. 

There was a brief moment where she forgot the boneless wings were spicy and didn’t have the chance to stop Data from popping the whole thing into his mouth. 

She knew she shouldn’t have laughed but she couldn’t help it. Watching him flounder and flap his hands drove her to hysterics and it was with tears in her eyes that she urged him to drink the glass of milk on the tray.

It was nearly an hour later when Data was full. By then, Faith had already begun to grow weary and she knew she needed to get to bed soon. She excused herself to the bathroom while Data cleaned the remnants of their meal. 

At first, she was going to take a quick shower but then she decided a hot bath would be best. She added lavender-scented bubbles, piled her hair into a messy bun, and as soon as she slid into the water, she knew she had made the right decision. A thought occurred to her a few moments later and she called for Data. 

He appeared instantly, looking concerned. “Are you alright?” he asked. “Do you require assistance?”

“Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to join me.”

While they had showered together a handful of times, Data had yet to join her in the bathtub. Her intention had nothing to do with fooling around; she craved intimacy after what she had endured, a stark contrast to her feelings before she met him. 

Data raised an eyebrow and looked at her with interest. “I have not experienced the feeling of hot water,” he said. “And the scent coming from the bubbles is most pleasant. Not to mention, I would very much like to feel your skin against mine. I will join you.” 

Faith smiled and watched him undress, cursing the medication because if she was clearheaded she would love to find out just how much he could feel. He slid into the bathtub behind her and once settled, he hummed with appreciation. 

“Most pleasant,” he said, running his hands up her arms. “I can see why you enjoy this.”

“It’s better with you here.” She relaxed against his chest and basked in the feeling of his arms around her. 

Data held her close as they sat, letting comfortable silence fall between them. His hands continued to touch her, stroke her arms, make trails up her shoulders, touching for the sake of the experience and nothing more. Faith gently took his wrists and wrapped his arms around her waist in a hug. Data placed a kiss on her temple. 

“Faith, may I say something?”

“Of course.”

“Earlier, when I touched and stared at you without your permission, I am sorry. It was not my intention to make you uncomfortable and with my new emotions I shall try better to control myself.”

“Apology accepted, Data. I appreciate it but I wasn’t worried or offended.” She smiled and shifted so she could look back at him. “Actually, I was very flattered that you were looking at me like that. It made me feel…sexy.”

“That is a relief. I find you sexy.”

Faith chuckled, melting into his hug. “Likewise. As frustrating as all this is, I think Q’s little test proved that you do indeed have emotions and have been feeling them the entire time. I think Q just expedited their evolution.”

“I believe you are correct.” 

Data lifted her hand from the water and slotted their fingers together. “But he also gave me the sense of touch and though we do not know the depths of the price I will need to pay, I am grateful for the time I have to fully experience your hand in mine.”

Faith smiled and touched her forehead to his. “Me too.” A yawn forced her to draw back and she wasn’t surprised when Data also yawned. 

He was surprised, however, “I yawned!” he exclaimed while still yawning.

She laughed and kissed his cheek. “That you did. We both could use some sleep and you still have your duties tomorrow.”

“May we stay for a few more minutes? I am not quite ready to end this moment.”

“Of course, babe.”

They remained soaking until the water grew cold. When Faith finally climbed into bed, she wore absolutely nothing. She was too tired to bother with clothing and she wanted to feel Data’s new body heat for as long as possible. He dimmed the lights and joined her, nude as well. 

“How are you feeling now?” he asked once they settled and he was spooned behind her. 

“Drained. Not just physically but mentally.” She reached up to touch the barely there scratches and felt the phantom pain of them. “What are we going to do if Konro doesn’t show up? How are we going to keep him from turning someone else on us?”

Data kissed her shoulder and held her close. “We will figure it out should the scenario arise. Rest, Faith. You have earned it.”

Faith took several calming breaths and closed her eyes. It was always easier not to spiral when she was with Data. He was her rock, her companion and partner through and through. A sense of determination washed over her and the desire to learn to defend herself returned with a vengeance.

Going into the unknown meant they needed to prepare for everything and Faith knew she would feel better once she had some semblance of self-defense. It was that decision that helped her fall asleep. 

The last of the sedative made her rest deep and dreamless. When she opened her eyes again she knew it was hours later. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Data was fidgeting next to her then she would have immediately fallen back to sleep. 

Faith rubbed her eyes and rolled over as Data abruptly sat up. She was so used to him looking untouched and perfect in the mornings that when she took in his sleep-mused hair she couldn’t help giving him a shameless once over; he looked adorably ruffled.

His expression was puzzled and his head cocked in confusion. “Curious.”

“W’as s’matter?” Faith mumbled through a yawn. “You okay?”

“I do not know.” He lifted the blanket and looked underneath. “It seems my sexuality program activated itself.”

That made Faith more alert and she too sat up, taking a peek for herself. Sure enough, he was hard. The sight shook away any remaining traces of sleep. 

“Yeah, that can happen in the mornings. It’s normal for humans with penises.”

“Huh. I did not know that.” He lowered the blanket and looked at her. “Will it go away on its own?” 

“It can,” Faith said, leaning in close. “Or, I can help.”

“In what way can yooooooohhhhh…”

Data’s voice broke into a low moan as Faith wrapped her hand around his cock and gave it an experimental squeeze.

“If you want me too, that is,” she said, kissing his shoulder. 

Data nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, yes, I would, Faith.”

Faith pressed her body against his until he was laying back down while her hand worked him up and down with lazy strokes. In the back of her mind, she was aware his new sense of touch meant what she normally did wouldn’t necessarily work. She was going to have to relearn his body, which she was perfectly happy doing. 

While she kissed her way to his throat, she squeezed and strokes a little harder. She earned a gasp and another moan for her efforts. Hearing those sounds from her Data was like a punch in the gut. Her own desire washed over her like a tidal wave.

“This is…” Data paused and gasped again. “This is also different.”

“In a good way or do you need me to stop?”

“Do not stop. A good way. A very good way.”

Grinning, Faith captured his lips in a harsh kiss as Data started to thrust up into her hand. Empowered didn’t even begin to cover how she felt. His body responded with every minute change and his moaning was loud, unfiltered, and unashamed. 

And hot. Really, really hot.

The closer she brought Data to the edge the more bold and desirable she felt. It wasn’t that she hadn’t felt that way during their other sexual encounters, it was the thrill of a whole new experience. Data was right, it was different. 

Data was different, and getting close to the end if his louder moans were any indication.

“Faith?” he asked breathlessly, a sound that was absolutely doing stuff to Faith. “If you are…if you do not mind—”

Faith knew what he wanted. She pushed the blanket aside and kissed her way down his rapidly moving chest. The second she took him into her mouth he all but convulsed. With a hand falling to the back of her head, Data sat up, thrust up once, and then locked in place as he came down her throat. 

It was so quick, she barely had a chance to prepare, working her mouth sloppily up and down his softening length until Data fell onto his back.

Faith swallowed around him, cleaning him off before letting him slip out of her mouth. She rested her chin on his stomach and smirked at him. “You okay up there?”

Data opened his eyes and looked at her with a sense of wonder. “I do not know the word for how I am.”

“Spent? Satisfied? Blown away?”

Data nodded, reaching out to swipe at the drop she missed. She caught his thumb between her lips with a teasing flick of her tongue. He sucked in a deep breath at the visual.

“Yes,” he nodded. “All of those things. I could not anticipate what your mouth would actually feel like. Thank you for showing me.”

Faith chuckled at his sweet politeness and laid back down next to him. “You know I am always willing to help you with new experiences.”

“Speaking of new experiences, there is something else I would like to do.”

“What’s that?”

Data smiled and leaned over to give her a deep kiss, before pushing himself up onto his hands so he hovered above her. “I would like to experience giving oral pleasure with my new sense of taste.”

Her body heat spiked at his admission and she bit her lip with excitement. There was a tiny feeling of nervousness but she had enough medication still in her system for it to dissipate. 

“I mean, how can a woman say no to that?”

“You always have the right to decline.”

“I know, Data, I was just teasing. Yes, my answer is yes.”

He fixed her with one of his practiced mischievous smirks before he slipped under the blanket. Faith shifted to get comfortable but then Data reemerged. 

“I would like to remind you that I do not have access to my sexual catalog so it may not be exactly how it has been before,” he warned. 

“Duly noted.”

He disappeared once more, only to pop back up. “Also, please feel free to direct me should my actions not be up to your satisfaction.”

“I will, Data.”

He pulled the blanket over himself yet a second later, withdrew from it. “If at any point you change your mind—”

“Data, I love you but for the love of God, stop talking and go down on me.”

Data’s eyebrows shot up at her sharp tone and he glanced down as his cock twitched with interest. When he looked at her again, there was a half smile on his lips. 

“I seemed to have enjoyed that. Most curious. It seems you are not the only one who enjoys a dominant mate. We will explore that at a later date.”

When he finally slid under the blanket for good, Faith grinned and leaned back against the pillows. She felt Data’s hands stroke her thighs as he spread them further and at the brief swipe of his tongue, she sucked in a breath in anticipation.

Data hadn’t taken his time before or since. The first time he used his mouth he dove right in with the same gusto he gave every new venture. But this time, she could sense his nervousness. Though that quickly changed within seconds. His tongue glided through her folds twice before she heard a low moan and felt his lips fully press to her core.

At first, he was sloppy as she had been, tasting her not for her benefit but because it was what he wanted. That had Faith’s desire skyrocketing. The fact that he was enjoying himself while giving her pleasure sent her feelings to another plane of existence. Which only increased when he became more focused, more specific with his mouth and tongue, slowly recalling what she liked. 

He had been concerned about underperforming yet he had no reason to be. Faith was a boneless mess within a short time, writhing and moaning with each flick of his tongue. His arms wrapped around her thighs and with a sharp tug to draw her closer, his head was fully buried between them.

Thoughts dissolved into one singular one: more.

Faith wanted more, she may have even chanted it because the next thing she knew, he pressed two fingers into her and she cried out his name. 

She could hear his noises under her own, mostly sighs and soft grunts but it was enough to push her over the precipice. Her body succumbed, her hips grinding against Data’s face as she came. He kept going, worked her through the pleasure and beyond. 

Even when she relaxed and hummed with satisfaction, he kept going and when he wrapped his lips around her clit it sent her into a spasm. The blanket slipped off the bed giving her a full view of Data. His face was pinched in concentration, lost in his own mind. Seeing him between her legs was always erotic yet with the new version of Data, the one who seemed to have given himself to the moment, it was indescribable. 

Faith grabbed the pillow beneath her head for support, trying to keep her eyes open so she could watch him for as long as possible. As if he sensed her, Data’s eyes opened and he met her gaze. 

For the second time in the last twenty-four hours, she lost her breath yet this time it was welcomed. This time it was because she witnessed such a deep, honest loving gaze it knocked her back with another moan. 

The second time she came her body became oversensitive. She had to push on Data’s head to stop him, which he immediately responded to. He drew back, chest heaving as he tried to catch the breath he only received yesterday.

“Fuck, Data,” she swore, pushing her sweaty hair out of her eyes. 

“I do not need you to assure me that was sufficient,” Data said, his eyes sweeping her sprawled-out, nude form. “I have a sense of immense satisfaction.”

“You and me both!” She smiled at him. “What did you think?”

Data placed kissed up her thigh, then her round stomach, and between her breasts before he towered over her. “Your taste has no comparison and is by far my favorite.”

Faith sucked in a breath but when she leaned up to kiss him, they were interrupted.

“Commander Riker to Lt. Commander Data.”

Data automatically switched to work mode as he reached for the communicator on his end table. Certain behaviors would never change. “Yes, Commander,” he responded. “I am here.”

“Did you forget to set your alarm clock, Mr. Data?”

Data frowned. “My alarm—oh!” They both realized at that moment that neither bothered to check the time when they awoke. “I am sorry, Commander. I no longer have access to my internal clock. I will be there as soon as I am able.”

Riker’s voice was filled with amusement as he said, “I’m sure you will. Riker out.”

Data looked at Faith. “I must go. I am sorry.”

“Duty is duty,” she said, shooing him out of bed. “I’ve kept you from the Bridge long enough.”

Data didn’t move, only continued to stare at her nakedness. “I am seized with such disappointment,” he said. “I was hoping to experience intercourse.”

“I know. Hopefully, we’ll be able to soon.”

Data placed a kiss on her nose before climbing from the bed. At first, he made for his closet but then he stopped and headed to the bathroom. “I must clean myself first.” He sounded so excited to be participating in a typical human morning routine. “Oh! And I must eat before I go. I am going to be very late.”

“You’re already very late,” Faith chuckled. “I’ll get your uniform and breakfast ready.”

“Thank you, mi alma.”

Faith threw on an oversized shirt and pair of shorts before doing as she said she would. Part of her wondered how she felt so calm and together after her big anxiety attack. In the past, she would still be in bed or deep within herself. Yet, she wasn’t. 

Then she realized why. 

The support. She had had support this time. Not just Data but Wesley, Beverly, and Deanna had all immediately stepped in to help when they saw her spiral. Between her friends and the knowledge that the senior officers were preparing to take on their adversary, she didn’t feel alone and it made all the difference.

Data emerged a few minutes later and once he dressed, he reached for the yogurt and granola Faith replicated for him. “I appreciate your help,” he said between spoonfuls. “I hope I will get the hang of these human functions before our interception of Konro’s ship.”

“Slow down, you don’t want a stomachache,” Faith said, fixing his collar. “It’s a big adjustment for sure but if anyone can work through it, you can.”

Once Data finished his food, he yanked her forward so her body was pressed to his. “Your confidence in me is most appreciated. You are beautiful and I love you.” He gave her a deep, back-bending kiss. “And now, I must go.”

Faith jumped as he pinched her backside and the next second he was out the door, hurrying to his station. She was left grinning and shaking her head. It was only a few minutes later, when she was truly alone that her good mood dimmed and she felt the weight she had been expecting since she awoke.

The thought of going back to bed wasn’t appealing, yet she didn’t want to work and didn’t have to. There was a sense of urgency inside her that made her want to do something. After a moment of poking at her uneaten breakfast, she reached for her communicator.

“Diaz to Lieutenant Worf.”

“Worf here.”

“Do you have time for that fighting lesson?”

“Absolutely. Meet me in the classroom in ten minutes.”

“Acknowledged.”

“And Diaz, I will not go easy just because of your personal circumstances.”

“Good. Diaz, out.”

Determination filled her veins. She took the time to eat her breakfast, her mind sharp and focused in a way it had never been before and when she left their quarters, she left the doubt and fear behind. 

[eiseryn]

Lei's new outfit that she obtained recently. I really like designing new outfits for my OCs and I thought she deserved to go shopping after all the s*** that has been happening to her. (Also her clothes were pretty darn bloodied and tattered like she went through 2 separate bomb/explosions... man....)

She's actually really into fashion! On her off days, she likes to dress up and wear makeup. This is because I didn't have that many points (point-bought her stats) to put into APP (appearance) so she's rocking an 45 on that. I draw her as pretty as possible but in her world she's probably best described as "plain". She has pretty low self-esteem regarding her looks because of this and her (bad) mother probably made this insecurity even worse :')

As for this outfit in particular, the baggy pants are because well, she is doing a lot of fighting (and is about to go on a death mission!!! wonderful!!) so a dress doesn't seem practical. (She does love her dresses though) I kept her med kit strapped to her hip and the thigh belts/buckles are probably where 1 of her 3 current guns are strapped (one's a healing gun, she's a healer, I swear). I wanted to give her combat boots because that's seggsy (to me LOL) and I made the straps green to compliment her black/white/green palette. (I love making my OC outfits black/white/ third accent colour because wow that sort of design doesn't miss T_T)

ANYWAYS, the rainjacket she bought when all the PCs went shopping at the very beginning of the campaign but I'm not sure if I actually lost it? At some point (right before the whole explosion thing) so maybe she got a new one that's equivalent? It has a lot of pockets to put all the miscellaneous things she's been picking up/ her inventory XD The gloves are nitrile (chem lab people know 🤝) but they're in this funky green b/c the usual blue would totally clash XD let's say she stocks a special brand that's green. I wanted to give her a white turtle neck and it had to be white and not black because otherwise that's too much white! I wanted it to be cropped just because ~ aesthetics ~ and showing that flash of belly? I just felt like it had more of techwear-style that way! Not sure if she actually has that necklace but it felt a bit empty without some accesories so I drew it in~ And you can't see it cuz it's covered by her bangs but she's wearing dangly earrings which are silver rings with a dangling diamond shaped gem attached~

Speaking of her face, she's lost her eye-shine :') because all the serious stuff happened (like rescuing a fake Ceres, and Elise sedating her... like oof she's having a bad time for real). Cold and bitter Lei is starting ;w; Also her hair is tied up cuz again it's time to get serious!!!

One more note is that the dangling strap hanging off her belt says "WHISPER" on it. This is the name of the drug that she makes and sells to Vail :D you know, the sedative :D

She signs her name the way I drew it in the bottom left corner, while the top right corner is the character for her name! Although doctors usually have atrocious writing, as someone who spends more of her time in the lab, I imagine she has pretty neat writing so she can label her flasks and test tubes nicely! She is an organized queen 💅

Here's the version with her lab glasses too! Gotta stay safe, you know~ She also picked up a gas mask somewhere along the way but I am not drawing that :D (We'll see)

[prettyvintageafternoon]

So, I saw this story circulating online and I wanted to center it because it's important.

A woman who was denied an abortion in the abortion-prohibitive state of Texas died in 2022, and her story is just now beginning to circulate in the media.

(Link to Article)

This woman's name was Yeniifer Alvarez-Estrada Glick, and she was an undocumented, uninsured woman who passed away from pregnancy complications after Texas passed S.B. 8, which banned abortion after six weeks of pregnancy.

Note for Context: This law was passed before Roe v Wade was overturned.

Texas was already woefully underprepared to serve pregnant women in their state because they were a maternal healthcare desert, meaning there was not a single OB-GYN or certified midwife available.

Yeniifer also had a history of illnesses such as diabetes and high blood pressure and she developed a condition called pulmonary edema after she got sick during the COVID-19 pandemic, which is when the lungs fill with fluid and put a strain on the heart and can be fatal to the patient. So, when Yeniifer became pregnant, she was considered high-risk.

In January of 2022, Yeniifer raced to the E.R. after she started experiencing - in her words to her husband Andrew over text, "Slight breathing problems." While her blood pressure was extremely high, the fetus growing within her appeared to be growing normally.

Doctors did not even bring up the possibility of terminating a pregnancy with her because the hospital that Yeniifer went to was a part of Ascension Seton, a network of Catholic hospitals.

As the costs of her hospital stay continued to compound and Yeniifer was losing time at work because she had to be admitted to the hospital for her hypertension, which prompted her to file for government-funded healthcare - though she received no response after she applied.

Yeniifer continued to see her doctor as her pregnancy progressed, doing her best to take her perscribed medications. She missed one appointment with her maternal-fetal specialist because the house where her client lived had bad cell service (for context, Yeniffer worked as a personal care aid for disabled patients).

As Yeniifer's pregnancy progressed further, she visited the hospital again on May 9th due to shortness of breath. Her blood pressure was 205/129 and she was 22 weeks and six days pregnant. This is when doctors determined that her pulmonary edema returned.

Due to bad weather, a helicopter could not take Yeniifer to a larger hospital where high-risk pregnancy cases could be better treated, so she was sent to Ascension Seton Medical Center Austin, which was 29 miles further away than the hospital she was originally intended to go to.

By the time Yeniifer was transported to the Austin hospital, she was "high risk for clinical decomposition/death" but her fetus was almost viable. In the following days, under the care of Celeste Sheppard, a maternal-fetal medicine specialist, Yeniifer's condition improved and her pulmonary edema calmed down. Four days after admission, she was disacharged with hypertension medication and a diuretic.

However, Yeniifer's condition at home was not great, as she was losing color in her skin and it was physically tiring for her to do daily tasks like go to work - with her tiredness becoming a chronic condition all the way into late May. Because the costs to see the medical professional she needed continued to climb, she did not see the OB-GYN again -- but her breathing problems persisted.

At 5 A.M. on July 10th, Yeniifer's breathing problems persisted so badly that emergency services had to be called and by this time, Yeniifer's BP was 213/146 - which is alarmingly high. Because acute pulmonary edema can cause patients to panic - which Yeniifer was, she was given sedation meds that were suggested by Dr. Willis, the Luling E.R. doctor who the paradmic called while she was in the ambulance.

By the time the paramedics made it to the E.R., Yeniifer had no pulse and she was pronounced dead (along with her fetus, who she named Selene) after paramedics unsuccessfully tried to administer CPR.

When Stephanie Taladrid, the author who wrote this article reached out to Yeniifer's husband, Andrew, for comment, he did not respond.

However, he did email her Yeniifer's autopsy report, which reads:

So yeah, this is what happens when abortion bans are in place and fetuses take precedence over the person who is pregnant. Yeniifer should not have died over this and it is incredibly sad that she did.

I encourage everyone to read this article, because it shares far more details regarding Yeniifer's story.