#i was AWAKE and AWARE during all my eye surgeries

[thefloorisbalaclava]

I am going to have a panic attack just trying to pick a dentist. I HATE HATE HATE going to the dentist. All I need is my yearly cleaning and I am freaking out so much I can't even pick a dentist. All I can think about are the sounds and smells in the offices and it makes me wanna gag.

I paid extra just to be put to sleep when I got my wisdom teeth out because I refused to listen to the grinding and cracking sounds (I gagged while typing that lol). Why can't I be put to sleep for EVERYTHING at the dentist? Lol

[blurredcolour]

In The Bleak Mid-Winter

[One-shot]

Ronald Speirs x Nurse!Female Reader

No good deed goes unpunished, but your reassignment brings with it an unexpected reward.

Warnings: Language, Weapons, Canon Typical Violence, Smoking, Treatment of Wounds, Medical Procedures, Hospital Settings, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes [unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex - m/f receiving, fingering, cum eating] - 18+ ONLY

Author’s Note: This was written entirely on my phone as my laptop is in for emergency repairs - I hated the experience, and apologize if there are any formatting issues or a surplus of typos. Also, I made some distinct narrative choices in writing this but I won’t burden you with them up front. They’re in the post-script if you’re interested! This is a work of fiction based off the actors’ portrayal in the HBO series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life persons mentioned within.

Word Count: 6171

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December 29, 1944 - Bastogne

“Fifty surgeries in two days with only three deaths. It is nothing short of a miracle. I’m halfway through a report recommending you all for a medal....and then I come to find out you landed in the middle of an encircled town on an unpiloted glider, through all manner of artillery fire, with a goddamn woman?! A woman!”

Your bleary eyes focused on the lit end of the cigarette pinched between the index and middle finger of your right hand, the icy caress of the north wind howling between the tent and the garage outside the Bastogne barracks one of the only things keeping you awake. Weary from nearly forty-eight hours of surgery, it would have been difficult to stay awake under normal circumstances, but the mortification you felt as General McAuliffe screamed at Major Dorward behind thin walls of canvas was certainly helping keep you on your aching feet in the ankle deep snow.

Bundled tightly in your great coat, collar turned up against the wind, face buried into the olive drab scarf around your neck, helmet protecting your head, the only bit of exposed skin was that hand you were straining to focus on. The other was deep inside your pocket, balled into a fist. You were vaguely aware of various people darting through the barracks yard behind you, making their way to and fro, loading vehicles, delivering men to the now-central clearing station since the bombing of the cathedral the day before your arrival. Covered as you were, you were barely indistinguishable from an ordinary soldier, yet the General had managed to find out your secret nonetheless.

“I have every faith that she can handle herself out here sir, there was no more qualified surgical assistant to accompany us.”

“But she is not a surgical assistant, Major, is she?! She’s just a nurse! A nurse whose life you endangered by sneaking her aboard that glider! I ought to have you court martialed!!!”

The General did have a point, hidden though it was within the avalanche of vitriol he was sending the Major’s way. You were in fact no more than a surgical nurse - assistants were enlisted men. But during your third or fourth surgery with the Major, right after D-Day, a brand new surgical assistant had been assigned to the operating room and not five minutes in had fainted to the floor.

With the patient in a life threatening position you had stepped forward to fill in the gap and ensure no impact to care or outcome. It had been the start of a very effective working relationship as the 12th Evacuation Hospital made its way across France behind the advancing American army.

Thus when Major Dorward had volunteered for this assignment, and asked if you would consider joining him, your only hesitation was born of the concern for the hell you two might catch. The hell he was in the very midst of catching right now.

You hissed at the sudden pain as the lit end of the cigarette met your flesh and quickly flicked it into the snow, not having taken one puff. When General Nuts himself had stormed into the tent, eyes blazing, the Major had sent you outside in the early dawn light with the lit cigarette and his rifle for protection. It had rather felt like you were your own firing squad, though the Major was most certainly the one under fire at the moment.

The creak of boots in the nearby snow, much closer than all those that had passed by before, made you jump slightly. You turned quickly to see an exhausted soldier, eyes bleached a pale grey in the now-brilliant morning sunshine. He looked cold, and exhausted, as all the men you’d run into here did. His face was handsome, though, lashes luxuriously long for a man carrying a Thompson submachine gun. He held out a pack of cigarettes to you, offering you a new one to replace that which you’d mistakenly allowed to burn out and you shook your head before extracting your face from its position nestled deep within your scarf.

“I don’t actually smoke, please don’t waste any of your cigarettes on me, soldier.” You smiled weakly, watching as his eyes widened a fraction before the General’s voice somehow rose even further in volume to respond to something the Major had said.

“I don’t give two shits if she can transplant heads, the risks involved were unacceptable, Major, and believe me you have not heard the last of this! Your surgical record over the last two days has been impressive, but this was utterly reckless!”

The soldier’s eyes flicked to the tent then back to you as everything surely came together in his mind and you looked down at the outline of yourcombat boots buried in the snow, wondering if it was too much to ask for the ground to open up beneath you and swallow you whole. You heard the tent flap flutter and tensed in anticipation of the General’s departure, but instead a gunshot rang out from across the clearing beyond the barracks, the snow scattering at your feet.

Strong arms yanked around your waist and pulled you back behind the shelter of the tent and the pair of you quickly lay flat in the snow, unmoving, barely breathing. The harassment from the enemy had been almost constant from the moment the glider had entered occupied air space and that, combined with any and all abilities you might possess being questioned by the General simply because of your gender, had you feeling rather enraged.

Pulling Major Dorward’s rifle from your shoulder, you crawled on your elbows to cautiously peer around the corner of the tent across the meadow and into the tree line beyond. Nothing moved. Years spent stalking deer at your father’s side had taught you patience, and how to aim the rifle in your hands. It seemed the former would not be required as a soldier came blithely walking out of the garage-turned-operating theatre completely unaware that there was a sniper.

The soldier at your side gestured at him violently - you could feel the movement of his body where his hip was still pressed against your leg, but it went unnoticed. Another shot rang out.

“Holy shit!” The man wailed as he darted back inside, a shower of brick dust audibly hitting the snow somewhere to your rear. The sniper was clearly lacking in talent, but you were focused on the movement in the coniferous tree to your two o’clock.

Exhaling slowly you squeezed the trigger and there was a hoarse shout followed by the sound of a body tumbling through cracking branches and ending in a sickening thud.

“Trying to kill my goddamn patients.” You muttered bitterly under your breath and carefully sat up, looking back to the soldier as he exhaled slowly.

He was eyeing you, expression intense and inscrutable, but your gaze was drawn to the gap at the collar of his ODs where you could see fresh blood oozing from a poorly bandaged wound at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, staining his wool shirt just below below his silver 1st Lieutenant’s insignia.

“You’re bleeding, Lieutenant.” You said quickly, pushing on his hip to encourage him to roll over so you might kneel at his side for a better look, pleased when he immediately complied.

You laid the rifle in the snow next to him and pulled the bandages away, frowning deeply to see lingering splinters of wood in the wound. As you carefully probed at them he hissed and you tensed, quickly apologizing.

“It’s nothing, ma’am, I’m fine.”

The tent flap opening and closing followed by heavy footfalls in the snow signalled the arrival of General McAuliffe on the scene.

“Everything alright, Lieutenant?” He asked quickly and the man below you nodded quickly.

“Just some shrapnel from a tree burst, sir.”

You looked up to the General slowly, watching his eyes land on the rifle at the Lieutenant’s side before glancing across the clearing.

“Good. Well done with the sniper, son.”

The Lieutenant shifted uncomfortably but you nodded quickly, helping him sit up. “An impressive shot, sir.” You added.

The General’s eyes fell on you, still full of that heated rage, but apparently he’d run out of words to say on the subject of your unwanted presence for he simply turned and made his way back towards the barracks.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, Lieutenant.” You turned back to him, the coppery tang of blood on the air focusing you like nothing else seemed to be able to.

Working your way to your feet, you picked up the abandoned rifle before leading him into the tent. Major Dorward looked up from some papers on his desk, opening his mouth but closing it quickly as you were followed by the Lieutenant.

“Tree burst shrapnel, sir.” You announced in your easy working shorthand.

“Damn Nazis have weaponized the forest. Have a seat, soldier.” He stood and offered his chair, walking over to the stash of supplies to fetch a field kit and bandages for you as you set the rifle on the cot in the corner, putting your helmet down beside it. “Ah my apologies, trooper.” He amended.

You turned back to see the distinct jump boots with bloused trousers now that the Lieutenant was seated and smiled. “I apologize as well, Lieutenant. I missed that outside.”

You worked his ODs and wool shirt open to began carefully cleaning his wound, leaving him in his undershirt in the chill of the tent.

“Doesn’t seem you miss much, Nurse.” He looked up to you as he spoke softly and you swallowed thickly as you noted his eyes were actually hazel, with flecks of gold around his pupils.

Mercifully Major Dorward broke out into rich laughter and shook his head. “That she doesn’t.” He commiserated affectionately from his newfound seat on the cot.

“Let me guess,” you murmured to the man seated before you as you gently worked out the last few splinters of wood that had escaped initial treatment, “you also told them this was nothing at the aid station because there were men there whom you considered hurt worse than you.” You glanced to his face as his lips twitched a little. “This could have become a real problem, Lieutenant, I’m glad you came over to offer me a cigarette.”

Turning back, you called the Major over to double check your work.

“Wound is clean and ready for bandaging.” He nodded after looking it over. “When you’re done I suggest you try and sleep. We’re driving out as soon as the truck is ready and the ride out will be about as relaxing as the flight in.”

“Understood, thank you Major.” You nodded as he stepped out of the tent to light a cigarette. You carefully lay some gauze over the crook of the Lieutenant’s shoulder before wrapping some bandages around his neck and under his armpit to hold it in place. “This should heal nicely in a week or so if you can do your best to keep it dry for me…” you trailed off as your fingers found the hole in his ODs.

Casting about the tent, your eyes landed on a tattered blanket in the corner and you began fashioning a patch, whip stitching it into place over the gash in the fabric. “That ought to do it.”

“Thank you, Nurse.” He murmured, looking up at you before he stood slowly, buttoning up his shirt and ODs with practiced efficiency.

“Take care of yourself, trooper.” You nodded, watching him step out, hoping against hope that he would be alright out there.

General McAuliffe proved to be a man of his word, which in retrospect was of no surprise to you whatsoever. The hellish ride out of Bastogne in the back of a truck on the only opened road, with the sounds of battle still raging on either side, took you to Orval where you received orders to report to the 60th Field Hospital there while the men from the 12th would return to the Evacuation Hospital you’d been stationed with since before June 1944. You had been informed your personal effects would arrive at a ‘later date.’

Nuts, indeed.

You worked in Orval for nearly a week, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, wearing the same clothing day-in, day-out, until the 60th was relieved and pulled back to Mourmelon-le-Grand. As promised, your belongings were waiting for you there, in the iron grip of a dour-faced Chief Nurse MacDonald who was only too happy to put a ‘reckless, insubordinate’ Nurse like you in her place at the 123rd Station Hospital.

What followed was a grueling month of scrubbing and refitting the near derelict buildings abandoned by the Airborne when they were abruptly called to the Ardennes. By the time the place was worthy of being called a hospital, you had managed to become at least friendly with your new colleagues, though they remained suspicious after your filthy and unceremonious arrival.

By mid-February, a tent city began to spring up around the base, heralding the impending arrival of troops from the front. And with them came all manner of cold weather maladies - pneumonia, trench foot, frostbite. Working on the general ward now, you could only eye the surgical nurses with envy, knowing your skills were going to waste emptying bedpans and changing bandages and that you had no one to blame but yourself.

Stubborn in all things, however, you worked without complaint, often being rewarded with more work or the worst assignments because your superiors knew you would complete any task with efficient silence. It was precisely this combination that saw you assigned to the night shift, a small mercy in that the vengeful Chief Nurse would never deign to work such hours, allowing you to develop a new working relationship with Captain Munro, MD.

“Nurse might I borrow you a moment?” He interrupted you as you stepped away from the bedside of a postoperative patient and you quickly nodded, following him off the ward and down the hall to his office. “I’m up to my eyeballs in trench foot but there’s an officer in here, seems he lacerated his hand helping one of his men climb out a transport - quite stubborn. Whether or not it needs sutures I am confident you can determine…” he exhaled, clearly exhausted from working a double shift as he came to a stop outside the door. “Is it alright if I leave this one in your capable hands? You’ll find everything you need in the cabinet.” He looked at you pleadingly, eyes underscored by dark bags of fatigue as he held out the chart and you nodded quickly.

“Certainly sir, please don’t worry about a thing.” You smiled softly at the relieved slump of his shoulders before he nodded firmly in thanks, dashing off down the hall to no doubt deal with another man’s beleaguered feet.

You glanced over the chart of Captain Ronald Speirs quickly before knocking on the door, giving the man some warning, before you stepped inside. You tilted your head to see the Captain with his back turned to you, halfway back into the worn jacket of his ODs, appearing quite prepared to leave.

“Just a moment please, Captain Speirs, I would like to take a look at your hand, sir.” You said softly, eyes widening as the man turned around swiftly, arms still slightly akimbo, to reveal the very same Lieutenant whom you’d bandaged that morning in Bastogne. Who’d saved your life, and watched you take out a sniper with barely a comment.

His eyes were fatigued, his hair grown long. He clearly hadn’t seen a razor in quite some time and yet you were struggling to recall a moment when you’d found a man so attractive in your entire life. You suddenly felt acutely self conscious in your white and brown seer sucker hospital dress with brown cotton stockings and cardigan to match, nursing cap pinned in your hair.

“It’s nothing ma’am, I’m fine.” He repeated himself word for word and you bit the inside of your cheek, having a hard time deciphering if he was joking or just built that obstinately. You did not miss, however, the slight rasp in the back of his throat.

“Good, let’s keep it that way, shall we Captain?”

You gestured for him to sit in the chair he’d surely recently vacated and carefully took the one across the corner of the desk from him, holding out your hand expectantly. As he set the back of his left hand in yours, you frowned at the laceration along the side of his palm. Captain Munro had been right, it really was borderline in need of suturing.

Laying his hand on the desk gently you stepped over to the cabinet to collect the necessary supplies, deciding to play it safe. You could suture quickly enough - the man clearly needed to get some rest and you did not want to keep him from it. While swiping his palm clean with an iodine wipe you glanced at him as he cleared his throat.

“I didn’t think you were assigned here.” He commented quietly.

You shook your head ruefully as you unpacked a tube of pre-threaded sutures with a curved needle. “I wasn’t until very recently. I used to be assigned to the 12th Evacuation Hospital but after my…behavior it was deemed necessary to reassign me.”

“I said nothing, I swear.” He replied quickly, brow furrowing and you could not help the smile that pulled at your lips.

“I believe you, Captain. Heaven knows where I’d be if you had.” Gently positioning his hand on the desk top, you smoothly rotated the curved needle through first one edge of his cut and then the other, looping the length of it around your forceps twice before pulling the end through to create a square knot.

You repeated two more casts before snipping the ends of the suture, looking to him sharply as he let out a rattling cough. “How long have you had that cough, Captain?”

“Few days…” he replied evasively and you hummed disapprovingly.

“If it doesn’t go away in a couple of days, you should come back and see me.” You spoke as you began the next stitch.

“And if it does get better?” He asked quietly, watching your careful work.

“I’ll be here all the same.” You replied, pressing your lips together as you fought another smile at the thrill that unfurled in your stomach.

“Whom should I ask for?” His voice came out particularly gravelly and he cleared his throat forcefully.

It was your turn to look startled as you suddenly came to realize you had yet to introduce yourself. You quickly shared your name before shaking your head in shame. “You must think me some wild animal, Captain, please forgive me.” You muttered and tied off the fourth and final stitch.

He nodded at you, eyes taking on a glossy quality that had you growing more concerned by the moment. You set down your tools and raised a hand to brush the backs of your fingers against his forehead, heart clenching as his eyes fluttered closed. Those infernal eyelashes dusting against his cheeks. His skin felt a normal temperature but another ragged cough wracked his frame and you clenched your jaw.

“I’d like to listen to your lungs, Captain.” You muttered and stepped over to the cabinet once more to grab the stethoscope you’d seen there.

He blinked up at you as he began to undo his wool shirt. “It’s Ron.” He corrected you and another smile escaped you before you managed to smother it, hands cupping the bell of the stethoscope to warm it.

“Thank you, Ron.” You said softly, inserting the tips into your ears before stepping closer to press the stethoscope against his upper left chest. “Deep breath in for me?”

You listened carefully to each quadrant of his lungs, pleased there was no crackling or anything else abnormal. Satisfied it was most likely just a cold, you looped the stethoscope around your neck as you stepped back.

“Everything seems alright, promise me you’ll get some rest and keep warm?” You asked gently, doing your best not to allow your eyes to linger on the way his undershirt clung to his lithe frame. You did take a selfish moment to appreciate how well his wound from Bastogne had healed, however.

“Promise.” He nodded, doing up his shirt more slowly this time, courtesy of the stitches in his palm. “Remind me when I get to see you again?”

You bit your lip slightly and took a breath. “If the cough doesn’t improve, a couple of days. To get your stitches out, a couple of weeks. Please keep them clean and dry until tomorrow night at least.”

“Got it.” He nodded and straightened his OD jacket, pulling on a worn scarf from the back of the chair before standing slowly.

“But for now straight to bed.” You opened the door, watching over him feeling wildly and inexplicably overprotective.

“Thank you.” He looked to you drowsily and you nodded, seeing him out then turning back to clean up and complete his chart before rushing back to your actual duties that night.

One week passed, and then another. There was no visit from Captain Speirs. You did your utmost to convince yourself it was for the best, that it meant he was healthy. That he’d had his stitches removed by a nurse on the day shift at his convenience. Word came that his entire Division would receive a Presidential Unit Citation and Ike himself would be coming to visit to deliver it on Roosevelt’s behalf.

You were promptly informed by Chief Nurse MacDonald that your presence during the ceremony was not welcome, but if you wanted to observe the Divisional dress rehearsal a few days before, on your own time of course, she would not stop you.

Breaking out your dress uniform for the first time in months, you obstinately got ready just after the end of your shift that morning and strode your way over to the parade ground with a few of the girls on the evening shift who were certainly better rested than you. More than a few off duty nurses from the five other hospitals in Mourmelon had found their way onto the grounds to take a peek at the men in their finery and you could only imagine that number would be many times higher on the fifteenth when Ike himself was there.

The weather was thankfully cooperative as you huddled together near a collection of trees watching the men of the 101st file past. The contrast between their neatly pressed uniforms with mirror shined boots and the battered but not beaten men you’d encountered in Bastogne was truly striking. Each and every one of them truly deserved the honor that was about to be bestowed upon them.

Once everyone was satisfied that the ceremony would proceed without a hitch, the men were dismissed and you turned to head back to your tent to catch what sleep you could before your shift that night. Smothering a yawn behind your hand, the group of women you were walking with all came to a halt when a familiar voice called ‘Nurse!’ All of you almost seemed to turn back as one.

If six pairs of inquisitive female eyes intimidated Captain Speirs he did not let it show. He quickly clarified with your name, the other nurses filing away murmuring amongst themselves disappointedly.

“Good morning, Captain.” You nodded to him as he came to stand in front of you, sliding his helmet from his head to tuck it under his arm.

“Good morning.” He replied, eyes skimming over your uniform curiously.

You noted he’d found the time to visit a barber, his hair neatly trimmed and styled, though you rather missed the tousled waves he’d first arrived with.

“You are sounding well, Captain. I’m glad to hear it.” You smiled softly. “Did your hand mend nicely?”

He lifted it for your inspection and you looked to him startled to see the stitches still in place.

“Captain, these sutures were ready to be removed days ago.” You chided him softly as you cradled his hand in yours.

“I was told you were unavailable.” He replied quietly and you looked to his face quizzically before it dawned on you that he must have returned to the hospital during another shift and simply left when he learned you weren’t there.

“My apologies, I work nights. Any nurse can take care of these, they must itch something fierce.” You frowned.

“What time does your shift begin tonight?” He asked, seemingly happy to leave his hand at your mercy for as long as you chose to hold it.

“2100.” You replied, noting the disappointment that pinched at the bridge of his nose. “But I could meet you there at 2015 if it means getting this taken care of.”

He nodded firmly. “2015, then. Thank you.” He eyed you a moment as you tried in vain to fight back another yawn. “What time does your shift end?”

“0900. I should get back to get some rest. Just wanted to sneak a peek at the big show. You boys will do great when Ike’s in town.” You nodded warmly.

“You won’t be here?” He tilted his head curiously and you let out a scoff of self deprecation.

“Reckless, insubordinate nurses like me aren’t to be seen by the Supreme Allied Commander.”

A furrow appeared between his brows, the muscle of his jaw ticking slightly before he exhaled. “I wish they would stop punishing you for your bravery.”

Your eyebrows shot up beneath the brim of your service cap. You had been trying your damnedest to not let it bother you, especially after hearing the men of the 12th Hospital you’d gone in with had all received the Silver Cross. To hear him speak in your defense was quite honestly overwhelming.

After a careful glance around the nearly empty parade ground confirmed the remaining individuals were otherwise occupied, you leaned in to quickly press your lips to his freshly shaved cheek, thumb swiping away any trace of your lipstick.

“Thank you, Ron.” You swallowed tightly as the heat of his gaze was as palpable as a caress on the skin of your face. “I will see you later to remove your stitches.” Squeezing his hand gently you released it to hang at his side.

His silent nod was the only response you received before you turned to make your way back to your tent for some much needed rest, though your mind would have much rather focused on the way the sunlight lit his eyes than to let you sleep.

Arriving at the hospital that night at 2000 you tracked down Captain Munro and secured his permission to borrow his office once more in the name of treating the stubborn Captain Speirs. Setting out suture scissors and tweezers on a tray upon the desk, you hurried out front to meet the Captain lest he was misinformed about your availability again.

“Good Evening.” He nodded as you stepped outside, hugging your cardigan close against the chill of the night.

“Evening, Captain, please follow me.” You smiled and led him through the maze of hallways before holding open the door to the prepared office.

He assumed the same seat as before and, closing the door behind you, you sat opposite, looking over his palm as he set it in your waiting hand.

“You’ve done a very good job keeping it clean for me, Captain, thank you.” You smiled and picked up the curved scissors, the edge that pressed against the skin not at all sharp. “I’ll cut the stitches first and then pull them out with the tweezers, alright?”

He nodded, watching you closely as you snipped your way through the silk strands very carefully.

“They call me ‘killer’ you know…” he spoke apropos of nothing and you slowly raised your eyes, feeling as though you were joining an internal conversation well in progress.

Rumors spread through camp faster than that bone rattling cough he’d arrived with - you’d heard your fair share of things about him. Particularly after your tent mates had learned that he’d spoken to you earlier that day on the parade ground.

“Sure he’s pretty and all but after the things he did to those Nazi prisoners…” Betty from Indiana had insisted with a dramatic shudder.

“And his own Sergeant!” Philomena of New York had chimed in with an emphatic nod.

All of it struck you as hollow and vapid, coming from two wide-eyed girls fresh from Stateside who’d only ever known war stationed in hospitals with roofs and walls. Never been fired on, never had an enemy soldier try and take the life of a patient right out from under them.

“Well, Ron,” you replied thoughtfully as you set the scissors onto the waiting tray, “they could easily say the same thing about me. It just so happens I had a very honorable man at my side when my anger got the best of me.”

His eyes seized yours, pinning you to the spot with your hand hovering just above the set of tweezers as you forgot how to breathe. His lips tentatively began to form words several times before he abandoned his attempts to speak and lunged forward to close the space between you, his lips slotting against yours in reply instead.

Inhaling sharply through your nose in surprise, you found yourself quickly leaning into his kiss, fingers threading into his shorter hair as you tilted your head to press your lips more firmly to his. Sliding his arms around your shoulders, he pulled you close, tongue delving into your mouth greedily. A soft whimper escaped your throat only to be swallowed by his devouring mouth as he tasted you thoroughly.

Appearing discontent with the separation between your bodies, his hands shifted to grip your hips, guiding you onto his lap before his fingers began to pluck at the buttons of your cardigan. Rucking up the skirt of your dress and slip beneath, you settled over his hips, shuddering as the hard bulge of his length nestled tightly against your core.

“We don’t have a lot of time” you panted against his lips as his hands brushed aside your open cardigan to tug at the tie of your wrap dress, revealing your cream coloured slip beneath.

“Understood.” He murmured as he pulled back to drink you in, eyes taking on that glossy quality from back in February that’d had you so convinced he was febrile.

“Ron…” you urged gently, your own hands sliding between your bodies to work at the fastenings of his dress trousers.

Lost in some sort of trance he leaned forward to press his lips against the hollow of your throat before he secured the ball chain of your ID tags between his teeth and pulled them out from beneath the v-neck of your slip. Brushing his lips against the flat metal stamped with your name and serial number, preceded by the letter N, your heart lurched beneath your ribs fondly as it forgot its normal rhythm for a few beats.

The feel of his fingertips undoing the fastenings of your stockings from your garter straps refocused you and you quickly worked his fly open, sliding his trousers and boxers down as he did the same with your underwear, depositing them onto the floor.

Shifting higher onto your knees, you pressed your face against his temple as he took his cock into his hand, pressing into your entrance slowly. You whimpered breathily against his hair before dropping your head to the crook of his shoulder to try your best to keep your volume down. Rocking your hips against his with a smothered moan you clenched your thighs to begin working up and down along his length.

Heavy breaths fell from his parted lips, brushing against the skin of your neck, goose flesh erupting in the wake of each exhale. His fingers curled into the flesh of your hips as he helped drive your hips against his.

“Ahn, Ron!” You keened against his jacket, lifting your head to kiss him hungrily.

He rocked his hips up into yours each time your pelvis met his before letting out a frustrated grunt against your lips. “On the desk.” He rasped pleadingly and you nodded quickly, sliding from his lap to shuffle backwards, pushing the tray of instruments further behind you before perching on the edge.

Surging to his feet, he nestled between your legs, tongue sliding along yours as he thrust into your aching warmth once more. You cried out hungrily down his throat as your nails dug into the sleeves of his uniform jacket, clinging to him as he set a deliciously dizzying pace that had your toes curling in your shoes.

A ragged moan rumbled through his chest as his cock twitched within your wet heat and he quickly pulled back, chest heaving. Pushing from the desk, you fell to your knees, ignoring the slight sting as they impacted the floor, to wrap your lips around the leaking tip of his length.

He hissed through clenched teeth, hand coming to rest against the back of your head as you hollowed your cheeks tightly around him. Encircling him in your grasp, you eagerly stared up at his face as you stroked his cock, clenching your thighs together as the corded muscle of his neck flexed with the effort to remain silent as his salty release filled your mouth.

Laving him clean with your tongue, you sat back on your heels, swallowing every last drop as he watched on in stunned silence. Fingers sliding up your thighs to retrieve the first of your garter straps, you shivered a little as you remained highly sensitive, having been so close yourself, but also very much aware of the lack of time. You rose to your feet, about to begin fastening your stockings when his hands were on your waist, guiding you to sit on top of the desk once again.

“You didn’t…” He exhaled through flared nostrils and shook his head sharply. “Unacceptable.” Was all the warning he afforded you before he crouched down to seal his lips around your throbbing clit, two fingers plunging into your trembling warmth.

“Holy…” you barely managed to cover your mouth with your palm, hips bucking violently toward him.

He hummed against you approvingly as you lay back onto the worn wooden surface, writhing as fingers picked up the thread of your pleasure, winding it tighter and tighter as his mouth felt like it was sucking your very soul from you. Every muscle in your body became taught with exquisite tension until, at last, like the blowing of a fuse your release detonated behind your clenched eyelids.

Relaxing into the desk top with languid ease, you ran your fingers through his hair in tender appreciation. “Really…have no time now…” you murmured breathlessly and he pressed his damp lips to your inner thigh before pulling you up to a seated position and began to help you re-dress.

Any time his lips were vaguely within the vincinty of yours, you unhelpfully insisted on kissing him softly, significantly hindering progress, but eventually the pair of you were mostly presentable. He cupped your cheek with his left hand and your eyes shot wide at the rasp of sutures against your skin.

“Ron!” You gasped, grabbing his wrist and groping behind you for the tweezers before setting about carefully trying to remove them.

It was his turn to be a nuisance as he nuzzled his face into the soft skin of your neck, sighing gently, making you giggle under your breath as his eyelashes tickled your flesh.

“You are a wild animal.” His voice held a dreamlike quality, lips brushing against your throat as he spoke.

You honestly would have swatted him if his tone weren’t so reverent, doing your best to focus on removing the last two sutures.

“A lioness - fierce and strong and brave and gorgeous.” He rambled before brushing a line of feather-light kisses up towards your jaw.

It made your heart ache with the longing to linger with this verbose version of him that had somehow been unleashed, but according to the clock above the door, you had to be on duty in two minutes.

“Ronald Speirs, you sweet talker.” You whispered weakly, setting down the tweezers, your task finally managed. “I hope you sleep well.”

“You know I will, thanks to you.” His eyes met yours warmly before he cupped your cheeks, pulling you in for one last searing kiss. “May I…write to you?” He asked, incongruously hesitant after all that had transpired.

Sliding your arms around his neck, you kissed his forehead. “You’d better. This lioness has claws.” You smirked in a playfully threatening manner, earning a broad grin in response.

————————————-

Band of Brothers Masterlist

Tag list: @bcon24 , @ronsparky

Post-script: Firstly, I agonized for several hours about whether or not to have Ron be married in this. Ultimately, after reading that Ronald Speirs asked his first wife not be mentioned in any way in the miniseries I decided to do the same here. Secondly, while I used a fake name for the Major who flew into Bastogne by glider, this is all based on real events that took place! I decided to use fictional characters here to justify the radical actions I had them take in bringing the reader, but you the story of Major Soutter and the men of the 12th Evacuation Hospital is really quite something!

[mariposa-writes]

The Assistant - Part 3

Summary: You loopy on drugs.

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: Hi, sorry this took so long to get out. I know many of you have been waiting for a third part to this. I was super busy with midterms and then working during all of spring break. I didn't even touch my computer until last night. Hopefully the next few chapters will come out sooner than this one.

Make sure to like and comment! I love feedback!

You alarm was going off, making you groan. It was to early for this. You just wanted to sleep longer. You hated waking up early in the morning, you liked staying up late at night.

You snoozed your alarm for the 5th time, when Travis knocked on your door. "Y/N, you up?" He slowly pushed the door open, letting in light from the hallway.

"Travis" You whined motioning towards the door.

"We gotta leave in 15 minutes."

You buried your face in the pillow, "Just cancel the surgery. I don't want it anymore. I'd rather walk with a bum leg." He rolled his eyes.

"I expect you in the car in 15 minutes or I'm dragging you out." He shut the door, leaving you in darkness.

You groaned, reaching over to turn on the lamp. You put on shorts and a hoodie, before going through your basic morning routine. You were walking into the kitchen 10 minutes later.

"It should be a crime to get up this early just for someone to cut into your body." You complained, as you slipped on your tennis shoes.

"You're just a ray of sunshine in the morning." You rolled your eyes. Travis and you have had enough early morning together that he knew you hated them.

Travis on the other hand was a morning person. You also despised him for it. Why couldn't he do late night workouts instead of morning ones? You never knew.

You climbed into his car and got ready to take another nap. You had a 45 minutes drive and you planned to use it wisely.

You were out within 5 minutes. Travis looked over at your sleeping state and couldn't help but smile. He liked when you looked relaxed, which was something he rarely got to see.

Once you guys got there he woke you up. You guys entered through a private door, so other patients wouldn't see Travis. You sat on the bed in your hospital gown, waiting for the nurse to come back.

"Nervous?" Travis asked.

"What? No. I'm fine."

He raised an eyebrow, "Really, cause you haven't quit tapping your fingers since the nurse told you it was almost time." You placed your hand in your lap, forcing yourself to calm down.

"Maybe I'm a little nervous."

"Don't be. Doctor Locke is a great doctor."

"I know and you'll be here when I get out right?" You asked looking almost bashful, like you didn't believe Travis would stay for the whole thing.

Travis wanted to frown at your question, of course he'd be there when you got out. He wasn't just going to leave you, but what he didn't know is that's what you expected from people.

When you were 11 you had appendicitis and when you got done with the surgery your mom was no where to be found. She'd gone on a date that night, leaving you to an empty hospital room when you'd woken up.

"I'll be here, don't worry." Travis said just as the nurse walked in.

"Ready?" She asked with a bright smile on her face.

"I guess." You said as she injected something in your arm and wheeled you out. You don't remember anything after that.

All you do know is that when you woke up Travis was there, sitting by your bed. "Hey," he said standing up and coming over to you. You smiled at him as his hand reached out to cup your face.

He used his thumb to remove some of hair on your forehead. You leaned into his touch, not even aware of what you were doing. Travis pulled his hand back, when the nurse came in with the doctor.

"Ah, glad to see your awake." Dr. Locke said, as the nurse jotted down your vitals. "Vicky here's gonna help you get dressed and then you'll be free to go." He said pointing to the nurse.

"Ok." You said, trying to keep up. Your brain was scrambled from whatever they used to put you asleep.

"Hey, I'm gonna step out. I'll be back in a minute." You frowned at Travis, "I'll be right back promise."

You nodded, "Ok, lets get you dressed sweetie."

-----

"Dr. Locke." Travis called following the man.

"Hey Travis, what can I do for you?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to say thanks for squeezing her in."

"No problem, anything for a you. She must be pretty important for you to call. You two make a cute couple."

"Oh, she's not my girlfriend. Just my assistant."

"My bad, just judging by the way you looked at her I thought you two were together."

"Yea, just friends."

"Well your a good friend then, I don't know many people that would pay for their 'friends' entire medical bill." With that Dr. Locke left, leaving Travis in the hallway.

Just friends, he reminded himself. You'd never acted interested in anything more and Travis didn't want to overstep or make things awkward.

You were a damn good assistant and he'd be mad if he messed that up and lost you. That's why he kept his distance.

Travis went back into your room and saw you laying in the bed. "She's gonna be out of it for a while and kind of drowsy. We order her some put some pain meds in this bag for her, along with everything else she might need.

"Travis!" You cheered when you finally noticed he was in the room. "You're here!" You smiled bigger than he had ever seen before, making his heart clench.

It's just the drugs, he reminded himself. "Told you I'd be here." He responded, now standing next to your bed.

"We're ready to take her downstairs and load her into your car." The nurse said as she brought in a wheelchair. Travis nodded as the nurse continued, "You can pull your car up the same entrance you came in we'll meet you there."

"Sounds good." He turned to you, "I'll be right back, just gonna get the car."

"Ok," You nodded seriously, which made him laugh.

The nurse loaded you into the wheel chair and pushed you to the entrance Travis was waiting at. He parked the car and got out taking over for the nurse and loading you into the car.

You weren't supposed to put any pressure on your leg for the next 3 weeks. Once you were loaded in the car, Travis got in and started driving. "Travis." You whined, gaining his attention. Not that you ever really lost it.

"What's wrong?" He asked worrying about you.

"I'm starving. I haven't eaten in like 50 million years." You whined, causing him to laugh.

"I don't think it's been that long."

"I think I would know how long it's been since I've last eaten." You replied.

"Ok, my bad." Travis said turning onto the highway. "How about I order us some food, for when we get home."

"Ok, I'll take pizza, Chinese, Mexican, and Italian."

"Your sure you don't want to choose just one?"

"Nope, it's been 50 million years. I want them all." Travis laughed. "Can you please not laugh. How would you feel if you hadn't eaten in 50 million years?" He put a hand over his mouth trying to muffle his chuckling.

You kept talking about random things as he drove you to his house. He was trying not to laugh, but the random things you were blurting out was making it hard.

Finally he pulled into his garage. "Travis!" You shouted as he turned off the car.

His head snapped to face you, "What?"

"How am I supposed to get into the house if I can't walk?" You were starting to freak out. You didn't want to be stuck in his car for 3 weeks.

He placed a hand on your arm calming you down. He spoke slowly, "I have crutches in the back seat for you. Plus I'll help you inside."

You nodded, slowly processing his words. He opened the door and grabbed the crutches for you and then helped you out of the car. You slowly made it inside, Travis helping you the whole way.

He helped you into his bed, and got you situated. "Ok, I'll be right back. I'm going to go order food." He put the remote next to you. "You can watch tv if you want."

"Do you have paramount?"

"No, but I have netflix, hulu, hbo max, peacock, and disney plus."

"How do you not have paramount? It has my favorite show on it." That's when your eyes widened, "Can you not afford it?" You whisper shouted.

He laughed, "I can afford it. But I might not be able to after I order all the food you requested."

"Yes! Go order the food" You commanded, pointing towards the door.

He chuckled, before leaving the room to order all the food you wanted. He had to call 5 different restaurants and placed an order through Hyvee for some ice cream to be delivered.

After he was done he went back to his room, where you were currently staying, to check on you. You were passed out in his bed, with a random tv show playing that he didn't recognize. He grabbed the remote from his nightstand and turned off the tv, before shutting off the lights and exiting the room. Leaving you to rest after a long day, despite it only being noon.

[chibinightowl]

Ever since my gallbladder surgery last weekend, I keep thinking about a fic where Tim has to have the same thing done. But the surgeon isn't one in a private hospital who won't ask questions about why his patient is covered in so many scars and admits to already having had a splenectomy too. There are many scars that have clearly been neatly stitched up while others have a wide scatter pattern almost like gunshot wounds. He voices his thoughts to the OR nurse who in turn reaches out to the hospital social worker.

Before Tim is even fully awake, there's a case opened up. All of this is happening outside of Gotham (maybe in San Francisco while Tim is with the Titans) so that's why it takes longer for Babs to learn what's going on and for Bruce to arrive and attempt damage control. It turns into a mess and he isn't allowed to see Tim at all, who's just blearily waking up and trying to keep fluids down, maybe asking for help to do a few laps around the unit to help shake the anesthesia. He's not so out of it though that he doesn't notice the hospital security guard trailing him and the nice RN who's holding his arm while he's got a death grip on his IV pole.

It's only that night when he's sleeping (he'd had a round of vomiting around dinner time that moved his release to the next morning) that Dick sneaks into the room and wakes Tim up to tell him what's going on. The fact Tim is an emancipated minor means nothing right now since clearly, some of his scars are old and faded from the passage of time.

Tim is honestly tired and uncomfortable and just wants to go back to sleep, but Dick is insistent that he repeat back Bruce's plan. He does and is finally allowed to return to his rest.

When he wakes up the next morning during the RN's rounds, he asks if he'll be allowed to leave today. She tells him that if he can keep his breakfast down, then yes. There is no medical reason to keep him in the hospital for longer. But while he's trying to eat the gloop that's trying to pass as oatmeal, the social worker enters, along with hospital security. Tim is well-aware of the fact his legal emancipation means they can't detain him nor does he have to be released into the care of his family. He doesn't want to be coddled to death in Gotham anyway, so he pulls a fast one once he's alone again and takes advantage of Kon's super hearing to send a message through him.

A couple hours later, Jason arrives at the hospital under one of his better fake IDs and Tim is released into his care. Jason finds this whole thing hilarious and is helping mostly because he loves it when Tim and Bruce are at odds with each other. Says it makes Tim seem more human and less like a robot.

Meanwhile, Bruce is tearing his hair out because he's being stymied at every turn while trying to see his son and has brought out the big guns in the form of his lawyers. He's not arrested per se, but he's being strongly encouraged not to leave the state while an investigation into Tim's medical background ensues. Of course, he's also wondering exactly why Tim didn't follow along with the plan Dick said he'd laid out to him. Dick is clueless as to why, but he has his suspicions that he doesn't voice. He'd been seventeen and rebellious once, so it doesn't take the World's Greatest Detective to figure out Tim is exercising his independence.

Of all the places, Jason takes Tim back to Gotham and sets up shop in Tim's apartment at the old theater to keep an eye on him. Tim is young and healthy, so his recovery will be quick, but he's also a Bat, which means he's prone to pushing his luck sooner than he should. There are arguments, bickering, and one time Jason has to physically carry Tim out of his Nest while the younger man protests loudly that he was only going to work for a couple of hours. Jason wonders why the hell he signed up for this because Tim is a handful, but he's also having a blast circumventing him, so he might as well stay for as long as he's having fun (come on, I had to put in a JayTim twist here eventually).

Blah blah blah, Bruce is eventually back in Gotham and he's Not Happy with how things turned out in California. He actually hadn't known about Tim's splenectomy until Dick told him about it (why wasn't it in Tim's file, Dick???), so he needs to have Words with his third son. When he goes to Tim's apartment, he's surprised to find Jason is there and looks rather comfortable being there too. He decides to question it later since Tim is alive and well, and bitching from the living room that he's bored and it's been two hours since he was allowed to have his tablet, so would Jason please give it back to him? (Jason has hidden it at the back of the top of the fridge where Tim can't reach or easily climb to given his current circumstances.)

It's all nicely domestic and warms Bruce's heart to see them getting along. He tries to talk to Tim about what happened, who just shrugs and says he didn't feel like going to the manor to be coddled to death and benched until kingdom come. Bruce then tries asking him about the missing spleen and when the story comes out, he's seeing red. Excusing himself, he sets off to find Ra's's current location and make his life a miserable living hell for a while.

More blah blah blah and by the time Jason leaves Tim's apartment, a few weeks have passed. Tim isn't patrolling yet, but he's back in his Nest and offering tech and IT support to Jason during his own patrols and cases. They're working together, which is nice. Team Red is how the others start calling them.

You guys can figure out your own ending. ;)

[zombiedumbie]

05. OH, HOME, LET COME HOME

'Wolf brought another strange kid home' masterlist.

based on Law's light novel, Shachi and Penguin's past, 1st person pov.

It took four days for them to wake up.

During that time, onnanoko and I took care of them, and the three of us took turns with household chores under Law's command, to continue helping Wolf while keeping an eye on the boys. I found it impressive how he could manage things.

"They were the boys who were messing with me in the forest", I told her as we cleaned them, the day before they woke up, and she asked me why I was helping them. I didn't understand why she asked that, so I just replied, "just because" and continued, too tired to understand the reason behind her question.

When they woke up, all of us were tired but happy to see them conscious. I could see how Law seemed concerned about the two of them. He often talked about the boy with the cap, who, despite still being weak due to the hole in his stomach, would be fine as long as we took care of him.

He was the first to wake up, an hour or two before his friend. Onnanoko hid at the top of the stairs. He seemed bothered by his injury, but he could speak calmly. He kept looking at me in a strange way and always turned his face when I looked back at him.

But Law mainly talked about the boy with the cap that had 'Penguin' written on it and his arm. Sometimes at night, he stayed awake in the living room, looking at him with concern. Law was worried about his arm, I didn't understand why, but he explained to me that such surgery was very complicated, and it wasn't just about putting his arm back in place; there were several things he needed to sew in the exact right place for him to be able to use his arm again. I stayed with him in the living room during those nights.

Then 'Penguin' woke up, onnanoko climbed a few more steps, and Law seemed even tenser. Wolf stopped right at the door, arms crossed while he watched us, and the other boy bit his lips nervously.

"I'm going to remove your bandages. See if you can move your arm and fingers", Law said, cutting his bandages with scissors.

"O-Okay..." He replied, terrified. Even onnanoko approached a bit closer, watching everything while peering through the wall of the staircase.

He sighed, looking at his arm with fear. I saw his muscle contract, and then he moved his little finger, followed by the ring finger, the middle finger, index finger, and thumb. Surprised, he raised his arm and bent his elbow, moving his forearm.

Everyone in the room breathed a sigh of relief. I was so happy to see him able to move his arm that I hugged him without even thinking, and he was crying, sniffing while I hugged him tightly. The boy with the cap was crying too. Both of them seemed relieved to be well. I could hardly hold back my tears watching them happy and thanking Law.

"Thank you, thank you so much!" 'Penguin' said, bowing his head when I let go.

"Oh man, I was so scared! I thought it was a lost case... But I'm alive, thanks to you!" The boy with the cap said between tears and a huge smile on his face. He still looked pale and weak, but he was happy. I restrained my desire to hug him too.

It took almost a week, but they were almost fully recovered. Law said they seemed very aware of what had happened. Wolf and I helped 'Penguin' with his recovery, Law explained that he needed to move his arm due to the surgery and the time he spent immobile. Onnanoko also wanted to help, but her fear seemed to overwhelm her, especially when she had to face two new people.

The best she could do was to be in the same room with them without hiding, but she cooked and helped us with some things so that we could assist them. Wolf frequently grumbled, complained and sniffed, making faces, but Law said that was how he showed he was happy, so he hadn't kicked them out yet.

Law decided to ask them what had happened now that they were better.

"First, you two brats, what are your names?! I can't stand calling you 'cap' and 'Penguin' anymore!" Wolf said, getting up. "I am Wolf, the genius inventor Wolf! That's how you should call me, with a lot of respect!" Law chuckled and crossed his arms.

"Pay no mind to him; he's just an old man who makes a lot of junk", I heard onnanoko stifling a laugh, Wolf looked at the two of them, incredulous.

"Shut up, brat! And don't butt into the conversation when you're not called!"

"If you say so..." And then the two of them made the same face and turned away, red. Onnanoko and I laughed at them while the two boys watched in confusion.

They talked amongst themselves before introducing themselves, 'cap' was Shachi, and 'Penguin' was... well, Penguin.

"Shachi and Penguin, huh. You can start by telling us how you got hurt", Wolf asked, and I was surprised by how calm his voice was.

So the two explained. They were living in a tent in the forest, and on the day of the accident, while they were cooking meat, a wild boar hit Shachi in the stomach. Penguin tried to hit it with a bomb, but it exploded shortly after he threw it. Penguin said he had stolen the bomb from the town, when Wolf was curious about why they had one.

"I understand. You shouldn't be stealing, but I can see why you'd want to protect yourselves from wild beasts", he replied, sipping his tea. We all fell silent for a few moments, and then Law spoke, as if he read my mind.

"Where are your parents?" We all fell silent, waiting for one of them to answer.

Their parents had died in a minor tsunami six months ago. Because of that, they had to live with Shachi's uncles, who made them commit petty thefts and smuggle weapons through the city. We were all upset about everything, and onnanoko hugged my arm, hiding her face in my shoulder, and I could feel her tears wetting my fur. So I placed a hand on her head while listening to them.

"We were never treated as people. To them, we were just slaves. So we ran away. But we had nowhere to go and no way to make money, so we built a tent in the forest and tried to live a real life there... but... I don't even know what the point of living is", Penguin began to cry, and I felt very sad for the two of them.

Wolf and Law exchanged looks as the two boys cried in front of us. I could only feel very sad after hearing what they had been through. If I had known that earlier, I could have shared my food with them when we first met. Onnanoko just left and went back to her room without saying anything.

"If you hadn't saved us, we would have died in the forest. Thank you so much! And..." Shachi turned to me, and I opened my eyes a bit wider, confused. "Polar Bear... you took care of us all this time. Feeding us, helping with our rehabilitation... there are no words to express our gratitude!"

My cheeks burned when Shachi said that, and I didn't understand why he was thanking me. I had just done what needed to be done! But I worried about his effort in moving and talking so much while crying. I stretched both hands in front of my body, waving them to try to show them that they didn't need to do that.

"You... You don't have to thank me. It's natural to help someone who's injured, isn't it?" I tried to reassure him.

"It's more than that! We hit you. Kicked you, punched you. Being kind to someone who did that is more than 'natural'!" Shachi replied, and I felt embarrassed. It didn't matter anymore, after all, they still needed help, and I could help them.

Before I realized it, the two of them were bowing their heads in front of me. "Polar Bear... No, Bepo... Thank you for helping us. We are so, so sorry for taking our anger out on you!" I remained silent for a while, not knowing how to respond so that they understood that it was already in the past.

"You... Don't worry about that! I have no problem helping you!" I replied the best way I could think, but they continued to bow their heads, crying. I looked at Law and Wolf in despair, hoping they would help me with this.

Fortunately, Law finally spoke up.

"Say, you two..." And then, Law invited them to stay with us. My face lit up with the idea; I smiled enthusiastically at the two of them. But then I heard Wolf complaining.

"Did you forget that this house is mine?!" But then Law ignored him.

"Besides, Bepo and onnanoko are already part of my team," and my whole world brightened, and I practically jumped toward Law.

"Really?! This is the first time I've heard that!" I replied excitedly; I couldn't wait to tell that to onnanoko! "Aye, aye!"

"Please, let us stay here!" Penguin and Shachi begged in unison, then Wolf grumbled before complaining again.

"Hey, brats! I don't think I can do anything about it. I'll let you stay here. But make no mistake! I'm not your guardian, and I don't want to be!" He scolded, waving his arms like crazy while speaking. "I won't be part of your family, let alone your friend! The only relationship I need is to give and receive! Alright?!" I saw Law raise his eyebrows when he mentioned family; he probably thought about onnanoko but chose to remain silent.

"You need a place to live, and I need extra hands to help with household chores and my inventions! A fair exchange! As soon as the injured are healed, I'll put all of you to work in the city so you can experience real work! Any questions?!"

We didn't say anything. I thought it was fair, after all, he was letting us live with him in exchange for help.

Wolf's face turned red, and then he left, sniffing and stomping his feet with force. I was excited to have more people living with us, but I worried about the girl, Law told me to leave her alone, as the story of the two boys might have been too heavy for her.

[jabean-fanfiction]

It’s a little rough still, and I’ve only got an outline for the rest of the chapter, which means that it’ll be a little while before it’s finished and ready to be posted. But I like what I’ve written so far…

A sneak peek of Chapter 21 of A Light in the Dark:

“Welcome back, Luke,” Obi-Wan forced himself to smile at the boy – a young man, really – as Luke tentatively opened his eyes.

He watched as Luke blinked once, twice, before the weight of the galaxy seemed to come crashing down around him once again. So much pressure on someone so young. Far too much.

Never again, Obi-Wan swore. Luke was not a pawn to be used by anyone. Not even by those in the Republic Alliance.

“Rey…” Luke croaked out. His bottom lip wobbled for a moment before he set his mouth into a firm line. “Is she… okay? Rex said that she’d be alright.”

Obi-Wan took a half second to consider his words, and smoothed a hand over Luke’s wavy hair, which was sticking up every which way just like his father’s used to at that age.

“Rey’s surgery was a success,” he quietly told his padawan. “They were able to remove the chip that was in her head.”

“But?”

Obi-Wan smiled at Luke’s prodding.

“But she has yet to wake,” Obi-Wan admitted. He rubbed a hand over his beard and sighed. “It’s only been a few hours since her surgery, and a few hours more since she was stunned by Rex.”

Luke tried to push himself up in his bed with his non-dominant hand. “Rex shot her three times,” he said, his gaze finally locking on his bandaged right arm.

Luke’s new cybernetic hand was being held stationary by numerous clamps and splints. The doctor and med droid in charge of the surgery had informed Obi-Wan that Luke was required to be awake for the final few adjustments. It was something that he was already aware of given the fact that he’d sat with Anakin during the installment of his cybernetic right arm.

Obi-Wan nodded. “That he did.” He cleared his throat, drawing Luke’s attention back to him once again. “The doctors aren’t worried about it just yet,” he said as he settled back in his chair next to Luke’s bed. “Of course, the fact that Rey hasn’t slept much these past few weeks is likely having an effect on that as well.”

Luke frowned, and seemed to war with himself over something. “She was resisting it, you know. Her chip or whatever.”

Obi-Wan felt his eyebrows lift in surprise. He did not know, as a matter of fact. “Was she now?”

Luke shrugged, and then winced at the motion. “It looked that way, at least.”

Obi-Wan hummed thoughtfully. “Can you explain what you saw?”

He had, of course, already spoken with Rex while the clone got checked over for a concussion. All Rex had said was that he’d been tossed hard against the stone wall and had gotten stuck behind the bleachers for a few long seconds before he was able to get a clean shot to take Rey out.

“I felt something was wrong just before Rey stepped into the training room,” Luke began. “She tossed Rex against the wall behind the bleachers, then she attacked me.” He frowned. “Did you know that she wields her lightsaber with her left hand? It’s kinda weird to defend against that angle.”

Obi-Wan hummed in consideration of that fact.

Luke snorted. “Not like I defended much of anything,” he admitted, self-deprecatingly. “She uh… she sliced my hand off pretty quickly. But I was able to yank her lightsaber out of her grip with the Force before she could impale me with the thing.”

And wouldn’t that have been a horrible thing to have happen once again?

Obi-Wan forced himself to smile tightly at Luke, silently encouraging him to continue with his explanation.

“Of course, I hadn’t considered the blaster she had on her hip,” Luke continued, oblivious to Obi-Wan’s struggle to keep it together, “which she was quick to remind me of when she pointed it at my chest.”

Here Luke paused, frowning thoughtfully. “That’s when Rey seemed to hesitate.”

“How do you mean?” Obi-Wan questioned.

Luke’s frown became more pronounced. “Her hands shook. She could’ve shot me half a dozen times over in the few seconds it took for Rex to stun her. But she didn’t.” He met Obi-Wan’s gaze dead on. “Her hands shook, and I kept repeating her name, and I swear she could hear me. I could see it in her eyes. She was in there, trapped in her mind.”

[robotstrategy]

Recalled • Part 1 • 1 - Keegan

Series Masterlist • Part 1 Masterlist • Next

The funny thing about unwinding is that people are more familiar with the actual children dying part, but they don’t think much about the shops where you can buy all the parts. It looks like a bunch of freezer aisles, each freezer door containing a different kid. They all look emotionless but Keegan’s dad has found that you can startle them a little if you hit the doors hard enough. Today Keegan is coming in for a new Front Temporal Lobe. He’s not as tough as the rest of his family and his dad intends to change it, not that he’s complaining though, Keegan wants to fit in with his family, but he’s just too soft according to his mom and dad. 

Looking around the store his father leads him off to a curtained section. 

“Isn’t this an employees-only section?” Keegan asks. 

“No, this is the section where all the exotics are found.” His Dad tells him.

Opening the curtain Keegan is met with all sorts of dangerous wonders, Boys who have clearly been injecting themselves, Slot Mongolers, which Keegan is pretty sure that they’re not allowed to be unwound at all, and huge-chested girls. 

“Well isn’t she a beauty, eh?” Keegan looks over to see his dad eyeing up a very generous-looking girl. “Wonder what she does?”

His dad then smacks the glass, the girl's eyes shoot open with a horrified expression, and she looks down before calmly going back into the unconscious. If Keegan were to guess she probably went back to sleep calmly realizing that her parts were covered. Even in the exotic section, the staff had the dignity to cover genitals and breasts. Looking back over to the boys Keegan spots one that looks less artificial. Roland Taggart, the plaque on his door reads, approximately 18 years old, unwind reason: mistreatment of a family member.

“To note, this child has confessed to trying to kill another kid while at harvest camp, OH HE’S PERFECT!” Keegan whips his head around to see his dad reading off Roland’s plaque, he then bangs on the glass to see Roland’s reaction. What can only be described as an expression of pure rage fills Roland’s face as he half-lidded looks Keegan’s dad in the face before looking down at the missing forearm and lower part of his upper limb on his right, then he does what Keegan thinks of as a facial shrug before dozing back off again. 

“He even stays aware for longer, we're definitely taking this guy's brain parts.” The dad confirms.

Not before long a staff member comes down the aisle

“Can I help you guys with anything today?” He asks.

“Absolutely, how’s about getting my son here hooked up with Roland Taggart’s Front Temporal Lobe?” His dad exclaims. 

The staff member looks over to Roland’s unwound body,

“100 dollars, are we doing this today or at another time?” He asks. 

The dad hands over some medical papers with his debit card clipped to them. “Let’s get this done today.” He demanded. 

The staff member looks over to Keegan and ushers his head.

“Come with me.”

The surgery room is cold, or maybe it is only to Keegan. He’s lying down on the operating table now in a hospital gown, slowly a nurse rolls up another cart. There’s a box on it labelled ‘Roland Taggart’s Front Temporal Lobe’.

“I hope they explained to you that you have to stay awake during this, we’ll be administering a shot to numb you.” The surgeon explained.

The nurse came over to cuff Keegan’s limbs in place. “It’s for safety reasons, nothing bad is going to happen to you.” She told him she went over to hold Keegan’s hand as he felt the prick of the needle. 

 “You're going to feel a slight pressure in your head, it’s  nothing to worry about.” The nurse slowly places a finger on both of Keegan’s eyes, shutting them. 

He feels twinges where his vital organs are, it makes him panic, he wants to scream out, he wants to move, though suddenly he doesn’t want to do…

anything…

He’s angry, he’s so freaking frustrated, he wants to rage, he wants to yell, and scream. Violent urges pump all throughout him, he knows what’s happening now, he’s been fused with Roland, and it feels amazing. There are so many new things he’ll be able to do, and Roland will guide him along the way. He’ll be honest if Roland could talk, Keegan would thank him.

After the staff confirms that he’s stable he comes out of the room with this newfound confidence and this new suaveness to him. 

“Ay! Would you look at that, You’re acting like a new person already!” His dad cheered. 

Despite him being excited about the new brain part, he now felt a terrible urge to lash out at his father. Nonetheless, he simply smirked and nodded, wondering what other surprises Roland Taggart would give him.

[youkaidaimaou]

療養日記・心臓（その2） / Recuperation Diary： Heart（part 2）

『 原因 / Causes 』

心房細動の原因は自律神経の乱れだが、その自律神経の乱れの原因には、心因性ストレスやオーバーワーク、不眠や過度のカフェインがある様だ。これには全く異論は無い。通常の仕事以外に NPO法人の仕事もこなしていたので、一週間に軽く70時間以上、30年近く行なってきた自覚はある。また、イベント開催時には睡眠時間を充分にとれない事は当たり前だし、眠気を覚ますブラックコーヒーは必需品だったからだ。 思い返してみれば、身体の異常に最初に気付いたのは 1998年か 1999年頃、年間に 40回以上のイベントを企画して開催・運営していた頃だった。動悸や眩暈（めまい）はそれまでにもあったが、「疲れているかな？」で済ましていたが、タイムトライアルの最中だけに「視覚異常」が現れる様になったのだ。 走行中にコースやパイロンが 二重にずれて見えてしまうので、片目で走ってしまう事も少なくなかった。きっと、脳への血流不足が原因か、或いは「血栓」の影響があったかも知れない。

The causes of autonomic nervous system disorders seem to be psychological stress, overwork, insomnia, and excessive caffeine. I have no objection to this. In addition to my regular job, I also worked for an NPO, so I was aware that I had been doing this for over 70 hours a week for nearly 30 years. Also, it was natural that I couldn't get enough sleep during events, and black coffee was a necessity to wake me up.  Looking back, I realized that something was wrong with my body around 1998 or 1999, when I was planning, hosting, and running over 40 events a year. I had palpitations and dizziness before, but I would just dismiss it as "tired?", but I started to experience "visual abnormalities" only during time trials. The course and pylons would appear doubled while I was running, so I would often ride with one eye. Perhaps it was due to a lack of blood flow to the brain, or perhaps a blood clot had played a part.

『 療養という選択 / The Choice of Recuperation 』

心臓外科手術や投薬という選択肢もあった。しかし、手術は制御系の一部をレーザーで壊してしまう方法だ。制御系に何らかの目的で自然に備わっている機能を破壊するのは気が進まない。また。投薬は身体の他の部位に負担をかけて不調の原因になる。実際、入院の後半、夜間に両脚が激しい痙攣（けいれん）を起こす様になり、担当医に伝えても処方箋の内容に大きな変更は無く、後日、自宅に戻ってから、服用している時にも夜間に激しい痙攣に襲われ、それをなだめる為に起きていた最中、突然、失神・転倒して頭部や膝を強く打撲してしまったほどだ。また、退院の日にも、「検査の結果では、数値は全く異常はありませんよ」という医師の言葉で送り出されたが、病院を出て 30分も経たない内に色覚異常を含む視覚異常が現れ、大幅に血圧が下がったのか、全く動けなくなり、街角で 1時間近く うずくまってしまった。これが医療の限界だろう。 だから、自律神経は温存したまま、生活を変える事で、自らの制御機能を回復させる “療養” という選択肢を選ぶ事を決意した。 ただし、身体が受けたダメージからの回復には、そのダメージに至った期間よりも長い期間が必要になる事は当たり前の事。だから、今も定期的に訪れる「心房細動」の発作の頻度やレベルを抑えるだけを目的とせず、長年の間に身体が受けてきた筈のダメージを回復させる事が僕の務めだと思っている。 https://player.vimeo.com/video/990907668?h=1784a96e81

Heart surgery and medication were also options. However, surgery would destroy part of the control system with a laser. I was reluctant to destroy the functions that the control system naturally has for some purpose. Also, medication would put a strain on other parts of the body and cause illness. In fact, during the latter half of my hospitalization, both of my legs began to have severe cramps at night, and even when I told my doctor, there was no significant change in the prescription. Later, when I returned home and was taking the medication, I was attacked by severe cramps at night, and while I was awake to calm them down, I suddenly fainted and fell, severely bruising my head and knees. Also, on the day I was discharged, the doctor told me, "The results of the test show that there are no abnormalities at all," but within 30 minutes of leaving the hospital, I developed visual abnormalities, including color vision abnormalities, and perhaps because my blood pressure had dropped significantly, I was unable to move at all and ended up curled up on a street corner for nearly an hour. This is probably the limit of medical care. So I decided to choose the option of "recuperation" to restore my self-regulating function by changing my lifestyle while preserving my autonomic nerves. However, it goes without saying that it takes longer to recover from damage that has been done to the body than it took to cause that damage. So, rather than just aiming to suppress the frequency and severity of my periodic attacks of "atrial fibrillation," I believe that my duty is to restore the damage that my body must have sustained over the years.

[augustinewrites]

hirugami + “hey, i’m sorry my dog got yours pregnant, here’s some child support.” the anon who requested this is so smart

hirugami sachirou, bone-tired and half-asleep, flops face first onto his couch with the intent of sleeping until next tuesday.

his dog bounds up to him, tail wagging as he licks a wet stripe up his face.

“we’ll go on a walk tomorrow, alright?” he sighs apologetically, reaching out to smooth his hand over the golden retriever’s head.

it’d been a long shift at the clinic, filled with the typical patients. a pup that’d eaten a bee, a kitten needing its shots, a bird with a lump that happened to be an egg, a hamster who’d been sleeping for a little too long. he’d even gotten to assist in an emergency surgery, the poor dog who’d gotten hit by a car now doing fine and on the mend.

he’s thinking about what fast-food he should order when someone bangs on his front door, both he and his pup straightening at the sound. he ignores it at first, thinking he can play off not being home when the person outside yells,

“i know you’re home!”

groaning, he drags himself off the couch, cursing whoever is bugging him at– a glance at his watch reads 11:23pm.

when he finally unlocks and pulls the door open, you’re standing there, arms crossed over your chest, obvious annoyance marring your pretty features.

he straightens a little, trying to smooth his wrinkled uniform when he realizes that after two months of being neighbors, he still doesn’t know your name. “can i help you?”

“my dog’s nipples are swollen,” you snap without so much as a ‘hello.’

definitely not what he was expecting. “uh, okay?”

“she’s gained over ten pounds.”

he cocks his head. “that sounds–”

“like she’s pregnant? maybe that’s because your mutt knocked her up!”

as if on cue, said mutt drops his leash at hirugami’s feet, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he barks excitedly, unaware (or perhaps very aware?) of the scandal he might have caused.

“oh,” he says, trying to keep his expression neutral. “but…how do you know it was him?”

you’re only getting more pissed, agitation apparent in the way your hands clench and unclench. “you know the hole in our shared fence that our landlord refuses to fix? yeah, that’s how i know.”

some days his dog stayed in the backyard while he was at work. apparently yours did too.

okay, so it’s a reasonable assumption then. what were the odds that neither had been neutered or spayed?

“things aren’t looking good for us, bud,” he chuckles, patting his dog on the head. “didn’t i talk to you about using protection?”

“i can’t believe you’re joking around right now,” you scoff, glaring up at him. “do you know how much these vet bills are going to cost me? how much puppies are going to cost me?”

he does know, so he reaches into the pocket of his scrubs to pull out a notebook, scribbling an address and a name. “okay, i’m sorry, so here. i know people at this clinic who can help knock a few zeroes off the costs. you go there, and i’ll give them a call for you.”

you stare warily at the piece of paper he’s offering you. wise, considering he could be giving you the address of an abandoned building in a red light district, for all you knew.

“and don’t worry,” he grins, leaning against the doorframe. “i’m gonna make sure this one pulls his weight. he’s not gonna be an absentee father. he’ll be awake during midnight feedings and everything.”

“ugh,” you roll your eyes, snatching the paper from his hands. “just keep your frat boy of a dog away from my girl from now on.”

“‘frat boy?’” he hums. “an odd term.”

you gesture at him vaguely, shrugging. “well, i mean– look at you. don’t dogs start to look like their owners or something?”

hirugami raises a brow. “and what about me screams ‘frat boy?’”

you don’t hesitate to lay into him, and for some reason he finds it wildly attractive. “you’ve got the tousled ‘i just rolled out of bed’ hair that just works, you’re obviously over six feet tall, and don’t even get me started on–” you point at the veins on his arm. “and yeah, you both have that whole dreamy eye thing that might have worked on my dog, but it’s not gonna work on me.”

“you think i have dreamy eyes?”

you look flustered all of a sudden, and he’d laugh if he weren’t absolutely sure you’d punch him. “what– no!”

he holds up his hands in surrender. “hey, you said it, not me. but don’t worry, i’m not trying to impregnate anyone. least of all pretty girls who yell at me in the middle of the night.”

your lips twitch to form what he assumes will be a snarky response, but you don’t say anything, turning on your heel and muttering incoherently as you head back to your door.

_

it turns out your stupid hot, annoyingly tall neighbor gave you a legit address.

the 24 hour vet clinic is relatively small, but functioning, the staff pleasant and surprisingly helpful once you show them the crumpled note.

the door to one of the examination rooms opens, an owner carrying a distraught looking cat in a crate out. they’re followed by a vet in a white lab coat who calls your dog’s name.

your head snaps up at the familiar voice, meeting the dreamy eyed gaze of the man you’d just yelled at last night. “glad you could make it.”

“why didn’t you tell me you worked here?” you ask, following him into the exam room, your dog at your heels. “you’re a vet?”

(why does it make him ten times hotter?)

he helps your dog hop up onto the table, humming as he pokes and prods at her. “i didn’t get a chance to bring it up with all the yelling you did. also, i was still wearing my scrubs when i answered the door.”

“i honestly thought you were a nurse,” you admit a little sheepishly.

you stare at him in silence as he finishes his work-up, watching as he makes a few notes, leaving briefly and returning with a bag of pet food that he drops into your lap.

“well, she’s definitely pregnant. here’s some veterinarian recommended child support.”

[ziptiesnfries]

A Small Price to Pay

Content warnings: lab whump, syringes, restraints, forced sedation, vivisection, gore, graphic description of surgery, awake during surgery, vomiting

“You know, this is sort of ironic,” Villain’s Sidekick babbled nervously, tugging at the leather restraints strapping them to the table. “Because usually, it’s the villain that’s a mad scientist, and not the….” They trailed off as their captor, still wearing colorful spandex underneath her lab coat, turned to face them with a large syringe in her hand. “...the hero,” Sidekick finished weakly, the blood draining from their face.

Hero tapped the syringe, watching air bubbles rise to the top. “Well, in my opinion,” she said cheerfully, “there should be more hero scientists. After all, what’s more heroic than scientific advancement?” She smiled as she approached the table. “And now that Villain has been arrested, and I’ve got my hands on you”—they flinched as she tapped them on the nose—“I’m going to get so much more work done!”

Villain’s Sidekick drew in a shaky breath, eyeing the syringe. “You—you don’t have to do this.”

Hero laid the syringe down on a metal cart lined with sharp, shiny tools. Sidekick tried not to look at it. She turned back to them, her eyes glittering with excitement. “Oh, but I do. Do you know how rare your regenerative abilities are? Do you know how many people would kill to study you? I’ve had my eye on you for a long time now.”

Sidekick bit their lip. They were well aware of how rare their powers were—which was why they’d always tried to keep it hidden. It didn’t matter, of course. People found out, and used Sidekick and discarded them as necessary.

Villain was never like that. He took them in, gave them the means to protect themself. He’d never taken advantage of their powers.

But now Villain was locked in a cell somewhere, and Sidekick hadn’t done so well at evading capture, either.

“Oh, I can hardly even decide where to begin,” Hero murmured to herself, her eyes scanning their splayed-out form. “I suppose a vivisection would be best for getting a range of samples, and I’ll definitely need all those eventually….”

A bead of sweat slid down Sidekick’s temple. “Please,” they said, their voice wobbling. “Please don’t—”

“Oh, hush. I’ve seen you get much worse injuries in battle, and you’ve always recovered from those.” A gloved finger ran down the length of their torso, making them shudder. “And hardly a scar on you, either. Fascinating!” Hero turned away. “I’ll get ready for the procedure.”

Sidekick swallowed down the bile rising in their throat as their eyes followed Hero, hurrying around her lab to gather supplies. It was true that they’d been injured in battle many times, and they often sustained wounds that would kill an average person. But this—this was a far cry from being wounded in battle. This was torture.

Hero hummed thoughtfully as she deposited her supplies on a nearby table. “You can’t get infections with your regenerative abilities, can you? I was going to sterilize the area, but if it won’t get infected anyway…”

Tears threatened to spill from Sidekick’s eyes, and they blinked them away. “I don’t think so, but please, listen—”

She seemed to come to a decision and shrugged. “Well, it’s good practice regardless, I suppose.”

She began to wipe down their torso, and they whimpered, shivering at the sudden cold. They made eye contact with her. “Hero, please—”

She put a hand on her hip. “Are you going to be like this the whole time, or do I need to sedate you?”

“I’ll answer any questions you have,” Sidekick babbled desperately, their heart pounding, “I’ll do anything, just please don’t cut me open!”

Hero met their gaze for a long moment, and they held their breath. Finally she turned to her tray of tools. “Sedation it is, then.”

“No!” They thrashed in their restraints, but they were helpless to stop it as Hero plunged the needle into their arm. They watched the syringe empty, watched the bead of blood well up as Hero pulled the needle out. She didn’t even bother to wipe it away.

“Now, I don’t have a good handle on your physiology yet,” Hero said as she disposed of the syringe in a biohazard container, “so this might not put you under all the way. Still, it should be enough for me to get my work done.”

Sidekick choked back a sob. Their chest heaved as Hero drew a dotted line down the center, all the way down their stomach. But their breathing was already starting to slow. Damn their fast metabolism—they doubted the drug would even last through the whole procedure. Still, they couldn’t muster up the strength to tell her that. Their limbs grew heavy as tears spilled down their cheeks.

They flinched as she touched the back of their hand, as though she was trying to reassure them. As though anything could reassure them right now. “It’ll be over before you know it,” she said, her voice already sounding far-away.

She flicked on a bright light, and Sidekick squeezed their eyes shut. Her voice grew fuzzier and fuzzier as she kept talking—maybe to a tape recorder, they thought blearily. For one peaceful moment, it almost felt like they were floating.

Then pain sliced through their consciousness, sharp and clear. They gasped, their eyes flying open. They couldn’t see anything except bright light above them, and they couldn’t move their head with it strapped down. But they felt pain down their torso, and something warm dripping down their skin, pooling underneath them. They whimpered.

A gloved hand pressed on their shoulder—to comfort them or pin them down, Sidekick wasn’t sure. “Shh, hold still,” Hero murmured.

Sidekick could only sob and writhe as the pain spread. They heard an irritated sigh. “I suppose I’ll need more sedatives for this.” A metallic clink sounded off to their side, and their eyes darted over to see a bloody scalpel on the metal cart. They swallowed down a wave of nausea, looking away.

Hero appeared above them a moment later. She looked blurry, but Sidekick could still see the syringe in her hand. They didn’t have the strength to resist this time as she jabbed them. “Let’s try this again,” she muttered.

Sidekick’s eyes fell shut again, so heavy that they didn’t think they’d be able to open them if they tried. But pain still radiated from their torso, as sharp as ever.

“There we go!” Hero’s voice sounded more muffled than before. “Back to work.”

Sidekick could barely do more than shudder and flinch, letting out soft cries. But they felt every moment of it—Hero peeling back their skin, pinning them open, her gloved fingers probing at their organs. Her hands were ever so careful as she explored places that were never meant to be touched, slicing off tiny pieces to examine later.

Of course, her gentleness did nothing to lessen the pain.

After a while, it all blurred together. Sidekick was surprised when they finally registered the tug of a needle through their flesh. Some part of them felt relieved, recognizing that it was over.

Another part of them whispered that this was just the beginning.

It felt like ages before Sidekick could wiggle their toes, move their fingers. In the background, they heard clinking metal and running water—Hero was cleaning up.

It was even longer before Sidekick realized the restraints were gone, but it didn’t motivate them to move. The pain was still ever-present, throbbing. They stayed on their back, staring at the ceiling, thinking, processing. The fog slowly cleared from their head.

Oh, god.

They just barely had time to turn onto their side as bile rose up in their throat, and they leaned over the side of the table as they retched and coughed, one hand curled protectively around their stitched-up stomach. The heaving only made the pain worse, but they couldn’t stop, and as the contents of their stomach emptied, the retching gave way to sobs. They collapsed, curling in on themself as they trembled.

They flinched as they felt a hand on their shoulder. “Shh, calm down,” said Hero.

“You—you—” Sidekick stammered, sucking in short, quick breaths. “You’re a monster.”

She rubbed their back. They were too exhausted to pull away from her, but the gesture was hardly comforting when Sidekick’s skin was still sticky with blood. “This research is going to save so many lives—so many more lives than I’ve saved already. I’m a hero. Besides, you’re being dramatic.” They stiffened, listening to her walk away. “You’ll be healed by tomorrow.”

“I felt it!” Sidekick screamed, their voice echoing in Hero’s lab. Her footsteps stopped. They took another ragged breath. “I felt all of that,” they said, much more softly this time. Their voice cracked. “It—it fucking hurts.”

Hero’s footsteps resumed. “Well, the suffering of one is a small price to pay to ease the suffering of many.”

A small, almost hysterical laugh escaped as Sidekick pressed their forehead against the metal table. Of course. They didn’t matter—not in the grand scheme of things, and not to Hero. They were just… a lab rat. A tool for someone else to use.

Hero returned with a damp cloth. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up a little. Then you can lie down.”

Sidekick took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded, painstakingly pushing themself up to a sitting position. They heard Hero sigh as she started gently wiping the blood away. “You’re going to help so many people.”

Sidekick could only laugh hollowly, a tear slipping down their cheek.

[pumpkin-spice-whump]

Reap the Harvest - Part 1

Oh boy a new series! I thought of it like three days ago and it took over my brain.

Thanks to @quietly-by-myself for helping me with research! (i didn't ignore your advice i swear i just needed this scene out of my brain) Also I know next to nothing about medical things so for the majority of this... just suspend your disbelief.

CWs: hospital setting, noncon surgery, amputation, gore, awake during surgery, treating people like property

Masterlist

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

Colin bounced his leg, hands shaking ever so slightly in his lap. He moved them to his sides and clutched the edges of the chair, shivering in the thin hospital gown. The waiting room was always needlessly and annoyingly cold. It usually didn’t bother him, but he was particularly nervous about this procedure.

It was his first time having an arm harvested.

Colin had donated skin, fingers, toes, blood, and bone marrow, but never an entire limb. Well, it was just going to be from the elbow down but still. He was nervous. No, he thought, nervous was too casual of a word. It was stupid but well... He was scared. He was scared like he was the first time getting his blood donated. When donating blood, they would take nearly half of its volume in your body, since it was not exactly needed for his peoples' survival. Still, the next few hours would be spent cold and delirious until their bodies could replenish it. The mere thought had terrified him as a kid, and now it felt totally normal, although a little inconvenient. He would eventually feel the same way about this.

But he couldn't help the fear he felt. Regenerating from having entire limbs taken wasn't as fast as replenishing blood, it could take days -- up to a week! -- and Colin didn’t want to spend that long helpless and in pain.

To his utter embarrassment, he felt tears pricking at his eyes, but he forced them down, glancing at the camera in the corner of the room. He would not show that he was scared, even though he undeniably was. He had enough pride to at least keep it to himself.

When Colin first heard that he was assigned to donate a limb that month he'd done his best to look brave, maybe even confident. He was eighteen years old, and he'd been assigned to have a limb harvested. He was a real adult now, and real adults didn't care about their assignments. They just went through the motions and did their duty.

His parents could tell he was scared, though. Rayleigh and Daniel had sat him down countless times over the month, trying to comfort him and convince him that it really wasn't as bad as he thought. They said that it would hurt, yes, but he would heal and be given time before another big one came his way. It wasn’t the end of the world. He'd regenerate quickly and be okay.

Bridger told him that it would hurt like hell and he’d never be the same again. Their dad had slapped him upside the head and told him to stop being a jerk. But he didn’t deny it.

That scared Colin even more.

It wasn’t so much the thought of the surgery itself as it was the promise of oncoming pain. Anesthesia and painkillers would dull his body's healing properties, so he'd have to go into surgery fully aware and alert. It hurt when his skin was peeled away and fingers were taken, but it was bearable. But his arm? The bones they’d have to break and cut through? That made his stomach cramp up.

And then there was the weirdness of knowing that a large part of him would just be… gone. For days, until a new one grew back. He’d be vulnerable and incomplete and the thought made him more uncomfortable than he cared to admit. 

He had hardly slept at all last night, which was only going to make it worse, but the anticipation of the unknown and large procedure, coupled with not being allowed to eat for hours, made him too sick to sleep. Rayleigh had crawled into bed with him and rubbed his back, reassuring his fears, until he managed to doze off in the early hours of the morning. Bridger woke up at some point in the night and made fun of Colin for needing that, but for once he'd just ignored him. Maybe it was childish, but his mother's presence always helped him feel calm.

After just a couple restless hours, Rayleigh woke him. She and Daniel walked Colin down to the clinic just a few hallways away from the family dorms, leaving with a few words of encouragement and promises to be right there in the recovery room to take him home when the procedure was over. Colin nodded wordlessly, giving a weak smile to his parents before the door was shut.

He'd changed into a gown and had a quick physical by a nurse (the psych eval had been done a few days prior) before having the barcode on the back of his neck scanned and being left in the waiting room... Where he was still waiting at least an hour later, trying to stop his heart from jumping up his throat.

At this point he was hoping that Dr. Malsom would show up and they could just get the whole thing over with.

As if he could read his thoughts, Nurse Blakely appeared at the door. “Colin Sharpe?” he asked, like Colin wasn’t the only person in the room.

He wiped his sweaty hands on his gown and stood up, clearing his throat. “Yes, sir,” he said. His voice trembled.

The nurse motioned for Colin to follow him out the door. His legs felt like jello, but he couldn’t tell if it was from the fear or lack of food. Probably both.

He’d walked this hallway countless times over the past five years, but today it seemed impossibly long and imposing, like it did the first time he’d ever walked it. Then he was only thirteen, nervous but proud to finally be able to do his duty. Parents are encouraged to walk back their children the first couple of times, and he held tightly to Daniel’s arm, trying to put on a brave face but also seconds away from bolting in the other direction.

He almost laughed thinking about how he hadn't really changed.

Blakely opened the doors to one of the many operating rooms at Rockmire Hills, holding it open for Colin before he followed, locking the door. Dr. Malsom stood next to the operating table, conversing lightly with Nurse Kelley. They looked over at Colin and waved him inside, gesturing for him to sit on the operating table. A cart of instruments stood off to his left, but he pointedly avoided looking at it as he lay down.

“How are we feeling, Mr. Sharpe?” Dr. Malsom asked easily.

Colin took a deep breath before answering. “I’m fine,” he lied. His voice was still weak. Probably weaker.

Dr. Malsom and the nurses pulled on masks and caps. “You're okay,” he assured, the nurses strapping Colin down.

He had always hated being strapped down, and this time they did more than normal. Instead of just buckling in his arms, legs, and hips, they also strapped down his head and chest. It was not reassuring. Colin’s heart pumped faster, his breaths coming shorter. He tried to do the breathing techniques he’d been taught years ago, but his anxiety hardly allowed for that.

You're being dramatic, he told himself. Acknowledging it didn't stop it.

His left arm was stretched out and held down separately from the rest of him on a part of the table that swung out and away, a metal tub placed below to catch the blood. Nothing could be wasted after all. Too valuable. Tools were being prepared off to the side, a heart monitor and IV line connected to him. It picked up his too-fast heart rate immediately, alerting the room to his cowardice.

Dr. Malsom stared at the monitor for a long minute before turning to Colin. “Nervous, Mr. Sharpe?” Colin nodded, embarrassed. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. This is very standard, everyone in your family goes through this multiple times a year.”

Colin cleared his throat, red creeping into his cheeks. “I know. It’s just my first time for… for a big one.”

“I’m well aware. But it really goes by quickly, and we can put you out afterwards. Just breathe. You’ll be okay.”

Blakely put the bitted oxygen mask over his mouth, silencing him and forcing him to breathe through his nose. Hopefully it would help him focus.

Dr. Malsom continued speaking as he turned on the radio, country music filtering through, and applied the tourniquet just below his elbow. “Your brother was scared for his first big harvest, too. Don’t tell him I told you, I swore to never speak of it, but he was crying even before he got on the table.”

Despite himself, Colin smiled around the bit in his mouth. His left hand uncurled as he lost feeling in the arm, blood supply cut off for ease of the procedure.

“We took a few minutes to calm him, talked out the procedure and the healing process after. I’m assuming you’ve already been told all about it?” Colin nodded as much as he could with the strap on his head. “Good. We can still take a few minutes if you need them. It really does go by quickly. I’m a professional, I don't make it hurt more than it needs to. I promise.” The scalpel glinted in the bright lights above him. “Ready?” he asked.

No, Colin thought. He nodded.

“Creating first incision,” the doctor said clinically, now all business and speaking to the nurses.

Colin averted his eyes, staring straight ahead and into the light. It burned his eyes, but it didn't matter, he would heal just like he did from everything. He bit down on the gag as the blade cut cleanly through his skin, taking big, exaggerated breaths through his nose.

I’m okay. I can do this.

He keened thinly as the cut went around, blood dripping steadily into the bin. He didn’t look as his skin was pushed back, exposing muscle and bone, but he knew it was happening. It had all been explained to him, time and time again. He knew the steps to the procedure just as well as the doctor and nurses performing it, and he’d suffered through cuts similar to this. At some point he eventually got used to the feeling of the razor sharp steel splitting his skin.

And then came the part he wasn’t quite used to.

Blakely cauterized the blood vessels, putting a slow halt to the dripping below him. Colin winced at the feeling, biting harder on the bit. Another whine escaped him.

“Doing okay?” Dr. Malsom asked. Colin nodded, closing his eyes. White spots from the light danced behind his eyelids. “Relax. We can pause if you need us to, but we should be getting this done as fast as possible. Do you want to keep going?”

“Mm-hmm,” Colin managed through the mask. He could feel the rest of his body trembling, could hear his heart rate picking up.

I have to do this.

Dr. Malsom spoke again but Colin didn't bother paying attention. He didn’t want to know what was happening anymore, he just wanted it to be done. He wanted to be put to sleep and wake up in bed and have the recovery process underway, he wanted it to be over and he didn't particularly care that that was childish. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter as the blade cut into muscle, arm spasming as the incision was cauterized just as fast as it was made.

Colin screamed, back arching slightly, heart monitor speeding up. He jerked in his restraints trying to get away.

Nurse Kelley put her hand on his head, petting back the hair that was already stuck to his forehead with sweat. “Do you need us to stop?” she asked.

Colin shook his head no, forcing himself to just breathe. If he stopped then it would just take that much longer. They were probably (hopefully) already mostly done, not having to take the slow precautions necessary for regular people to go through surgery. Just the rest of the muscle, the bone, and then they could put him to sleep. Just two more things. He could get through it.

I’m saving lives.

His ears began to ring as he screamed again, Kelley moving to hold him down instead of comfort him. Dr. Malsom just kept cutting and burning and cutting and burning and cutting and burning and it hurt so so bad make it stop make it stop make it stop

“Shhh,” Kelley whispered in his ear. “Shhhh, it’ll stop soon, just try to relax. Breathe.”

He’d been begging through the gag. Tears fell down his temples, slipping from his closed eyelids. He wished he could pass out.

At least I waited until the surgery started before crying, he thought with a ridiculous sense of triumph he didn't really feel.

The immediate burning pain stopped for a moment, and Colin allowed himself to relax a bit, opening his eyes and glancing over. He immediately regretted it.

His arm was ripped apart. A huge gash separated his elbow and forearm, muscle, fat and bone exposed to the open air, harsh light burning down where it was never supposed to. Colin gagged. Kelley gripped his head and turned him away, putting her hand over his eyes.

“Breathe through your nose. You’re okay. It’s almost over. Just breathe. Deep breaths for me, to the count of five, okay? Can you do it with me? Let’s try it. You’re okay. One…”

Colin squeezed his eyes shut tightly behind the woman’s hand, his pulse skyrocketing even as he took slow, measured breaths. Tears continued to fall, his chest stuttering with sobs. He really wished he could pass out. This was agony.

He couldn’t make out what Dr. Malsom and the other nurse were saying to each other, but he could hear a machine power on, buzzing filling the air. Now came the part he dreaded the absolute most. The bone saw.

I can do this. I have to do this. I’m saving lives.

This is all I’m good for.

Kelley never moved her hand from his eyes, shushing him and petting back his hair as he screamed louder and louder before, eventually, the bone was severed and all connection to his arm was gone. The relief he felt, despite the constant pain, was palpable.

She released him and he sobbed, eyes still screwed shut.

“You did well, Colin,” Dr. Malsom praised. He opened his eyes to see Blakely taking his arm away, putting it in a cold chest where it would be shipped to some poor sap who needed it more. “You did very well, I know it’s not easy. Do you want to sleep now?”

The smell in his mask changed, and Colin relaxed knowing he was going to be put to sleep. He nodded wearily, the strengthened anesthesia already working.

“Well done.”

This is all I’m good for.

[sacredsorceress]

Last Breath || Peter Parker

pairing: peter parker x avenger!reader

summary: You and Peter have been best friends for years, fighting alongside each other as Avengers. When you nearly die, the true feelings you and Peter have for each other come to the surface.

a/n: Peter’s 19 here b/c let’s just pretend infinity war and endgame didn’t happen and it’s 2021 lol. This is also my first time writing in a long time and first time writing for Peter. Feel free to request below!

word count: 3.2k

warnings: mentions of death, blood, fluff, and I guess angsty, crying Peter

masterlist || request here

You had first met your best friend Peter Parker two years ago after you learned you had powers and had been discovered by the Avengers. Being the youngest two of the Avengers and the same age, you and Peter were practically attached at the hip and everyone was aware of it. Whether it was having each other’s backs during missions, helping each other with homework or binge watching the latest sci-fi television show together, you and Peter were inseparable.

As much as you and Peter had tried to convince yourselves that you were only best friends and nothing more, everyone around you could see through that facade. They caught what you two tried to hide from one another- the stolen glances, the jealousy, the stuttering, the getting flustered when anyone brought up the prospect of you two being anything more than friends.

It’s not as if you two weren’t aware of the feelings that you had- you knew you liked Peter more than a friend should- but you weren’t about to tell him and have him laugh in your face, ruining everything you’ve built. So, the two of you lived in less than blissful ignorance, hiding your feelings from one another.

There wasn’t a nice way to put it- during your last mission Peter got absolutely wrecked. Although he had super-human abilities, even he was taking a longer time to recover which meant him staying back at the Avengers Compound while you and the rest of the Avengers went on a mission.

Peter knew that you could handle yourself and admittedly had powers that exceeded his, but he worried about you and tried to beg you to stay behind with him. He hated the idea of you going out and him not being able to have your back. He wouldn’t be able to relax unless he knew you were safe and he wouldn’t be able to keep you safe while you were out fighting and he was confined to his bed.

“Y/n, please.” He begged, tucked under his sheets.

“Peter, they need me.” You insisted.

“Not as much as I need you, though.”

“Oh yeah?” you chuckled at his attempt to implore you to stay.

“Yeah!” He continued. “Who’s going to stay here and look after me? What if I need something? Plus, my leg has been really aching.... so... I think it’s decided! Besides, what would you do if something happened to me?”

You laughed. “Nothing’s going to happen to you, Peter. You’re fine. I’ll be back before you even notice I’m gone.”

Debatable, Peter thought. He always noticed when you were there and especially when you weren’t.

“Okay, but, hear me out-“ He explained. “What if someone tries to attack the Compound? I can’t do anything to protect myself! I could die!”

“You’re not going to die, Pete.” You smiled. “If you die, I’ll kill you.”

That was the last thing you said to your best friend before you left with the rest of the Avengers. You would be lying if you said you were totally fine going on this mission without Peter. You were anything but calm. Sure, the others would have your back, but not the same way Peter did, swooping in at the last moment before someone got to you like he was always looking out for you.

You told yourself you’d be fine. For the most part you were. You could handle yourself and you had a good grip on your powers. You covered others and they did the same for you in return.

You had always heard that no matter how good things were going, it could change in a blink of an eye. One moment you could be kicking ass and the next you could be dead. You thought you knew better. You thought that you had everything covered, but you were so focused on the creatures in front of you, you didn’t even hear the one behind you until you felt the blade go through your abdomen.

It happened so quickly you could barely even process it. As soon as the blade went through you, you heard gun shots and the creature behind you and all those in front of you drop. You didn’t even notice, only moving your shaking hands to your abdomen, feeling the area and pulling them away to see your hands covered in blood.

The next thing you knew Natasha was at your side, noticing your wound and turning back to face you.

“Y/n, listen to me, it’s going to be okay.” She said frantically. You know she meant well but the way she lost her cool let you know that this was definitely not a good situation.

The sharp pain running through you made you lose your balance and collapse into her arms. You heard her speak into the ear piece, telling the others that you were injured and needed to get help ASAP. She continued to try to keep you awake and to assure you that everything would be fine but all you could do was cry back frantically that you weren’t ready to go.

When you began to feel light headed, you heard footsteps and without looking up you knew it was Tony.

Seeing you in your current state, he cursed to himself and looked at Nat. “The kid is going to kill me.”

You know he meant Peter.

“We have to get her out of here. The blade staying in there helped, but there’s only so much longer she can go without a hospital.” Nat said.

You felt Tony kneel besides you, still leaning into Nat’s arms. “C’mon, let’s go.”

You could barely even pay attention to what was going on around you, just thinking about how you could die any second. It happened so quick. Before he could pick you up, coughing up blood and struggling to speak you told him. “I told Peter this morning that if he died, I’d kill him myself.” You laughed. “It’s ironic now that I think about it. He told me not to come. He was right... and so were you.”

Picking you up, to rush you to the hospital, he asked, “Right about what exactly?”

“It feels so stupid now,” You spoke, feeling more blood drip down your chin. “I should have just told him. You were right. I do love him.” Beginning to feel lightheaded again and struggling to breathe, you told him: “If I die, be gentle with him... okay, Mr. Sta-”

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

Peter couldn’t sit still in bed, knowing you were out there fighting and he wasn’t there to protect you. Not being able to put his mind or body to rest, he threw off the covers and began climbing out of bed. Sure, he had a difficult time balancing at first and was walking with a bit of a limp, but he could handle it.

Walking out of his room and into the hallway, he heard muffled voices coming from the room, meaning that at least some of the team had made it back home.

Eager to see you, he stumbled quickly into the main room only to be met with Steve and Natasha. Taken by surprise he attempted to stand up straighter, leaning against a wall for help.

“Mr. Captain America sir,” Peter spoke nervously, still intimidated by the man in front of him, despite the many times he fought alongside him.

Both him and Natasha had grim looks on their faces as he attempted to peek around them in hopes of seeing you or Mr. Stark come in behind them.

“Peter...” Natasha spoke gently, slowly moving towards him.

Peter chuckled nervously, cutting her off. “Hey, where’s Y/n? Or Mr. Stark?”

Nat and Steve looked at each other before turning back to Peter. Steve stepped forward, reaching his hand out to Peter’s shoulder.

Peter glanced nervously from Cap’s hand on his shoulder to his face, asking again. “Where’s Y/n?”

“She was injured. Tony rushed her to the hospital and they’re operating on her now.” Steve spoke plainly.

Peter’s heart rate jumped and he began breathing heavily, looking between Nat and Steve frantically. “Injured? What do you mean injured? Wait, surgery?” His brain was moving a million miles a minute. He could barely comprehend what was going on, fearing the worse.

Nat spoke this time. “There’s not a nice way to put it, Peter. She was...” She pauses looking at Steve. He nods and she turns towards Peter. “She was stabbed. It happened so quick, Peter. There was nothing anyone could have done.”

Peter feels like screaming that there was something that someone could have done- that he could have done if he had only been there to protect you. He knows that Natasha means well but he can’t help but beat himself up, knowing you’re dying somewhere and he never even told you how he felt. He couldn’t bare to think about your body lying in Nat’s arms while you were covered in blood, scared of dying.

As much as he wanted to scream, he could just feel tears coming to his eyes and turned around, rushing back to his bedroom. He could hear the footsteps of Steve and Nat as he slammed the door behind him, wincing as he stripped himself of his clothes, searching for and grabbing his spiderman suit and pulling it on.

“Peter, what are you doing?” He heard Nat speak through the door.

Holding back his sniffles, he flung open the door, pulling the spider-man mask over his face. “I’m going to go see her.”

Natasha, watching as he struggled down the hallway spoke, “You can barely walk! You can’t go.”

He continued.

Cap spoke this time, “Kid, I get it, but there’s nothing you can do. You have to let yourself hea-“

“No!” Peter shouted turning around. The crack in his voice was evident to the two avengers, making his sobbing clear. “I could have done something! If I was there I could have saved her. She wouldn’t be dying right now if I had been there. This is all my fault, don’t you get it? If it weren’t for me getting hurt I would have been able to protect her!”

The three of them stood in silence and when he felt that no one was about to speak, Peter sighed. “I have to go.”

When Cap was about to go after him, Natasha grabbed his arm. If Peter was hell bent on going, it wasn’t worth trying to stop him.

“At least let us take you.” Natasha said. “You’re crazy if you think you can just swing from here to the hospital and you definitely can’t walk.”

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

The whole way there he had beat himself up for not being by your side, thinking of all the ways today could have gone differently so it didn’t have to end with you dying. He was so exhausted from crying, thinking about you, all the moments he shared and praying that he would get to make more.

Making it to the correct spot of the hospital, he saw Mr. Stark now changed out of his iron man suit and into a regular suit, standing outside a hospital room. When he made eye contact with Peter, Peter stopped short in the hallway.

“Take that thing off.” Tony insisted, pointing his finger at Peter’s mask. “I didn’t just donate millions of dollars to this hospital to keep you two’s identity a secret for you to keep that mask on. Come on, let’s go, I can’t take you seriously in that thing right now.”

Peter hesitantly took off his mask, stumbling further down the hallway. Even from far away Tony could see Peter’s tear stained face, red eyes and red cheeks, surely from crying since the moment he found out.

“Is... is she going to be okay?” Peter asked.

“As good as someone who just got stabbed with a blade from an alien planet can be.” Tony spoke before turning to look at Peter, who was visibly distraught. He sighed, wrapping his arm around Peter’s shoulder. “She just got out of surgery. If you trust these doctors... they say she’ll be okay.”

For the first time since Peter found out he felt a weight lift off of his chest and the ability to breathe normally come back to him.

“Really?” He asked, cheerfully.

“Yeah, but-“ Tony continued. “You have to knock this off.”

Peter furrowed his brows. “What do you mean, Mr. Stark?”

Tony sighed. “This.” He gestured between Peter and the room you were resting in. “You two. No more of this little elementary school crush stuff.” Peter felt his cheeks flush. “She thought she was going to die after fighting aliens with her superpowers and the last thing she said was that she loved you. It’s disgusting, honestly.”

Peter didn’t even know how to process this. You were in love with him? You were in love with him! He had had feelings for you for so long that he didn’t even think it was possibly for you to look at him as more than a friend. Not only did you look at him as more than a friend- you loved him. Not only did you love him- you thought you were dying and you spent your last words on him.

“I know you feel the same way so just cut it out and tell her.” Tony spoke.

Peter snapped out of his thoughts and looked back at Mr. Stark. “How did you know?” Peter, realizing he just admitted Mr. Stark was right coughed, embarrassed. “I mean... why do you think so?”

Tony laughed. “You’re a smart kid, Parker.” He placed his hand on one of Peter’s shoulders. “But you’re not that good at hiding it. I mean I can’t even count how many times I caught you checking her out in her suit never mind the other times where-“

“Okay!” Peter yelped. “I get it.”

“Not even just me either,” Tony continued, chuckling. “Everyone and I mean everyone, knows.”

Peter, on the verge of being mortified, shouted again. “Mr. Stark! Please stop!”

Finally Tony stopped, checking his watch, looking back up to Peter. “You’re right. She should probably be awake by now anyway. Why don’t you head in?”

“Are you sure, Mr. Stark? What about you?” Peter asked.

“Well,” Tony clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth. “You’re the one she just confessed her undying love for, so I think she’d rather see you, kid.” He pat him on the shoulder one last time before walking off. “Good luck!”

Peter watched as he walked away down the empty hallway. Holding his mask in his hands, he then turned to the door of the room you were waiting inside. He took a deep breath before opening the door.

His heart shattered when he saw you laying in the hospital bed with your hands folded over your stomach. He hated the idea of you being hurt and it made your near death experience even more real to him.

“Hey, Peter.” You spoke, your voice almost a whisper.

“Hey Y/n.” Peter answers finally looking up from all of the medical equipment you were attached to to instead look at your face.

As he moved closer to sit in the chair besides your bed, he could still see dried remains of blood at the corners of your mouth. He grimaced, piecing the scene together.

“Pete, stop looking at me like that.” You spoke, paused then smirked. “Thanks for showing up in your suit by the way. Nice touch. I can’t believe the spider-man came to visit me.”

Peter smiled but then it faltered. You always knew how to lighten the mood, but he couldn’t help but think about how he was so close to never seeing you again. “You almost died, Y/n.”

“So I keep hearing.” You replied.

“It’s not funny, Y/n.” He spoke seriously, dropping his mask by his side and taking one of your hands. “I- I don’t know what I would do without you. You’re my best friend and other half. I know our lives are really complicated, but I don’t know, you make it better. I can’t help thinking about how you almost died. When they told me what happened I thought I would never see you again, Y/n.”

You let yourself become vulnerable, squeezing Peter’s hand, but before you could even speak, he opened his mouth again.

“Mr. Stark told me about what you said.” He spoke softly, scratching the back of his neck, not meeting your eyes.

You tried to stop your heart from racing knowing you were not only attached to a heart monitor, but that Peter also had super senses. You couldn’t help yourself though. Was it mistake to say all that? To be fair, you thought you were going to die, but now that Peter’s sitting here in front of you, you’re scared he knows about your feelings and that he’ll reject you.

“Oh-“

“I like you. A lot. Maybe more than a lot.” Peter starts rambling before you could even finish what you were saying. “It’s not just because you spent your dying words telling Mr. Stark you loved me either. I’ve liked you- actually now that I think about it- loved you- for a really long time. Probably since I first met you, honestly. It’s not because you’re like this super cool superhero chick either- don’t get me wrong, it’s super... wow- but I love you for you. Even if you had no powers or anything, I would still love you. I know this is probably a lot and maybe you just said that stuff because you thought you were going to die, but I know that I love you an-“

And just like that years of pining for you just spilled out of Peter’s mouth before you cut him off.

“You like me?” You asked again.

“I mean I love you, but uh... yeah.” Peter said slightly flustered.

Not being able to sit up or lean forward too much due to your healing wound didn’t stop you. Hearing his answer was all you needed for you to grab hold of the front of his suit, pull him towards you and kiss him.

Peter was shocked at first, but soon hummed in response, planting his hands on the pillow on either side of your head. When you pulled away you smiled up at him. “I love you too, Peter. I’m sorry it took me nearly dying to say it.”

Peter, trying to contain his excitement, just smiled and kissed you again, savoring every second of it.

Little did the two of you know that outside your room stood some of the rest of your group of the earth’s mightiest heroes, peeking in on your moment with Peter.

“I can’t believe he finally told her.” Nat said.

“What I can’t believe is that she actually felt the same way.” Sam spoke. “You’re telling me that she spent her dying breath on him?”

“What can I say? I taught him everything he knows.” Tony stated confidently as they turned back, watching the two of you through the hospital room window.

Unfortunately for Peter’s sake, they also witnessed him going to place his hands on your waist while kissing you and accidentally grazing your healing wound, causing you to yelp and wince.

“Sorry!” he shouted. “Oh shit, Y/n, I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you? I’m so dumb, I’m so sorry-“

The others turned to Tony.

“Okay... well there’s only so much you can do to help that poor kid. That’s not on me.”

[sequinsmile-x]

High

Aaron gets hurt protecting Emily. 

For my pal @aubreyprc 

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: Canon typical violence/injury. Some cursing. Aaron Hotchner high on pain meds. 

She was going to kill him. 

First, she was going to check he was ok, kiss him until she was sure and then she was going to kill him. 

Emily anxiously twirls her wedding and engagement ring around her finger, attempting to channel her nervous energy into something other than tearing her cuticles apart. A cup of coffee enters her eye line, and she looks up to see Dave standing in front of her, a reassuring smile on his face.

“It probably tastes awful, but at least it’s something.” He says as she takes it from his hand and he sits next to her. “The others are finished at the scene and are on the way.” 

Emily grimaces at the taste of the coffee as she takes a sip, but for a second it distracts her, takes her mind off the fact her husband is an idiot. 

An idiot who she loved more than anything. An idiot who happened to take a knife to the shoulder for her less than an hour ago. 

“He’ll be ok, Emily.” 

She scoffs before taking another sip of the coffee, grimacing at the taste again. “He won’t be once I’m finished with him.” She shakes her head and looks at her friend. “Why did he do it, Dave? We’ve been together for years and this has never happened.” 

“The guy had his arms around you and a knife against your throat.” Dave says, his eyes flicking to the tiny cut on her neck. “He would have done the same for any of us.” 

Emily closes her eyes at the memory. She wasn’t exactly sure how it happened, how she had ended up on the floor and the unsub had his knife in Aaron’s shoulder in a matter of seconds. The first thing she was really aware of was a gun going off, Derek taking a well aimed shot at the unsub to disarm him, but not kill him, and Aaron lowering himself to the ground next to her with his hand pressed against his own shoulder. 

She had held him against her as they waited for the paramedics, her hand against the wound and her lips against his forehead as she told him she loved him and how fucking stupid he was in equal measure. 

“I know he would have.” She agrees, knowing it was true. Aaron would do anything for the team, take any of their places if they were in danger. She knew he carried a burden if any of them got hurt, more so if it was her, and it would take weeks for the guilt to fade, for her to be able to convince him that just because he was their leader it wasn’t his fault. “It doesn’t make him less of a self sacrificing asshole.” 

“Em-”

“Maybe you can save the lecture for when I’m not sitting in a hospital waiting room wearing a shirt covered in my husband's blood?” Emily says, an edge to her voice that has Dave hold up a hand in surrender as he takes a sip of his own coffee.

Emily knew Aaron would be ok. He hadn’t lost consciousness once, even when she had sat next to him in the ambulance, his hand grasped in hers as he tried to hide the amount of pain he was in. But he had been so pale, the blood loss making him look weary as he tried to reassure her that everything would be fine. 

“Family of Aaron Hotchner?” 

Emily looks up to see a doctor standing and looking around, a kind look on her face as Emily stood, Dave not far behind her, and walked over. 

“I’m his wife, is he ok?” 

The doctor guides them back over to the waiting area, indicating for Emily to sit down, which she does, feeling anxiety rise through her chest. 

“The stab wound your husband came in with was very deep, and the scans show that the tip of the knife broke off against his clavicle.” The doctor explains gently. “The tip of the knife is still in his shoulder, so we are going to have to do surgery to get it out and close up the wound.” 

Emily felt like the wind had been knocked out of her, memories of when Aaron had been stabbed before, so many years ago now, flooding back in a way that took her breath away.

“Is he going to be ok?” She asks, shrugging Dave’s hand off of her shoulder as he tries to provide some comfort, knowing right now it wouldn’t do her any good.

“There are never any guarantees.” The doctor says, but she smiles at Emily again in a reassuring way. “But he has remained conscious this entire time, and spent a long time trying to convince us he didn’t need pain meds.” 

Emily chokes out a laugh at that. “That sounds about right.” She clears her throat, forces down the emotion trying to claw its way up it. “Can I see him?”

“Of course.” The doctor replies. “I need you to fill out the paperwork too.”

Emily stands and follows the doctor, briefly turning back to Dave. “Can you let the others know?” 

“Of course, bella. You go make sure he’s ok.” 

She follows the doctor to the room Aaron is in, and she blows out a breath when she sees him. The wound to his left shoulder is packed tight and he looks so pale it does nothing to calm her concerns. 

“Sweetheart.” He says as soon as he sees her, a strain to his voice as he tries to hide the pain he is in. She walks over to the bed and sits on the edge of it facing him, taking his hand in between hers. “Are you ok?” 

He lifts his good arm to press his thumb to the tiny cut on her neck, the one that had stopped bleeding before the paramedic even arrived, and Emily rolls her eyes at him. 

“I’m fine. And I’m not the one with a piece of a knife stuck in my shoulder, honey.” She scoffs as she straightens the cannula in his nose delivering him oxygen. “You scared me.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

She leans forward and kisses him, a gentle thing against his lips to remind herself that he is alive, and then she rests her forehead against his. 

“It’s ok. Just don’t do anything stupid like die during surgery.” She says, her smile wavering as tears flood her lash line. “I’d hate to have to bring you back to life just to kill you myself.” 

He laughs at that and it makes him jolt in pain, wincing as the movement makes his shoulder burn. She shushes him, her fingers soft against his cheek. 

There’s a clearing of a throat behind them and Emily turns to see a nurse standing there. 

“We need to take you down now, Agent Hotchner.” 

Emily turns back to Aaron and kisses him, more forceful this time as she tries to pour everything into it. She pulls back and smiles at him. 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” He says, squeezing her hand.

“I’ll be here when you wake up.”

__________________

The first thing Aaron feels is pain. His shoulder is killing him, a burning sensation lancing all the way down his arm and across his chest. Then he realises how fuzzy his head feels, the tell tell signs of anaesthesia and heavy pain killers in his system, making his brain feel light and heavy at the same time.

He opens his eyes and looks around, unsurprised to see he is in a hospital room. He groans at the light in the room, the brightness of the fluorescent lights making his head swim even more. 

“Aaron.” 

He turns to see Emily sitting next to him, a look of relief on her face. Her presence confuses him, unsure why she was by his side, and why her hand was in his. 

“Prentiss?” He asks, missing the way she frowns when he calls her by her surname. “What happened?” 

“You were stabbed, you had to have surgery.” She stands up, both of her hands now grasped around one of his. She presses a kiss to his cheek and he shrinks backwards, the pain in his shoulder stopping him from moving more. 

“What are you doing?” 

She looks at him, equal parts concern and amusement on her face. “Trying to kiss my husband.” 

“We aren’t married.” He says, and he watches her smile slip away. “That’s mean, Prentiss.” 

Aaron had loved her for years, longer than he had cared to admit. He’d often wondered if she’d felt the same, but this felt cruel. Like she was messing with him when he was so in love with her just having her touch him made his skin feel like it was burning. 

“I could show you our marriage certificate but I don’t carry it with me everywhere we go.” She jokes, a nurse walking in before she could say anything else.

“Oh look who is awake.” The overly cheery nurse says as she sends a smile to Emily. “Your wife was very worried about you.” 

“Not my wife.” Aaron mumbles. Just my beautiful coworker I’m in love with. He thinks, although a small laugh from Emily and the nurse tells him he may well have said it out loud.

“Is he ok?” Emily asks, concern for him sneaking it’s way into her voice. “He knows who I am but keeps insisting that we aren’t married.” 

The nurse finishes checking Aaron’s vitals, making a note on the chart in her hands. “He’s fine, this isn’t totally unusual for someone coming round from anesthetic. I’ve seen some people completely forget who their loved ones are.” She presses a few buttons on one of the machines he is hooked up to. “I’ve set up the next set of meds, so he should sleep soon. Next time he wakes up, try and get him to eat some of the crackers we’ll bring in.”

Emily nods and turns her attention back to Aaron as the nurse leaves. “See, the nurse knows we’re married.” 

“I’d remember marrying you.” He grumbles, eyeing her wedding rings with jealousy. Her husband is a lucky bastard. 

Emily smiles at him, biting her lip to suppress a laugh as he realises he had accidentally spoken out loud again. She pushes some hair off of his forehead, her touch warming him immediately, something familiar about the gesture that his confused brain can’t place. He thinks he sees her get her phone out, but the room is starting to get blurry, his eyes closing against his will. 

“I don’t think you even remember what town we’re currently in, Aaron.” 

“Too pretty to marry me.” He says, his voice thick as the painkillers the nurse had given him start to make him drift to sleep. “Too good.” 

“Go to sleep, love.” She says, a kiss to his forehead as she soothes him. 

He falls asleep to her soft lips against his skin, and he thinks there would be much worse things in the world than being Emily’s husband.

__________________

It takes another couple of hours for him to wake again, and she can immediately tell he’s more lucid this time. A focus in his eyes that hadn’t been present in the few minutes he had been awake earlier.

“Hi sweetheart.” He says, smiling at her in the way he did on their first date, the way it made her feel now no less significant than it had been then. 

“Hi honey.” Emily stands from the chair next to his bed so she can kiss him, and then she settles on the edge of the bed. “How do you feel?”

“Sore.” 

She raises an eyebrow at him, but leaves it, knowing that she won’t get any further admission of pain from him. “I need to make you eat some crackers.” She says, a smirk on her face as she indicates the package on the table next to him.

He groans, the idea of eating anything making his stomach turn. “Do I have to?”

“Yes. But I’ll give you a few minutes.” 

“I’m your husband, you’re meant to be nice to me.” 

“Oh, so now you remember we’re married?” She asks, a wry smile on her face that develops into a laugh at his confusion

“What?” 

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll tell you later. I took a video.” Her smile fades slightly as she takes in the bandage poking out from his gown, the way his arm was strapped to his chest. 

“I’m ok, Em.” 

“I know.” She says, looking back at his face and giving him a wobbly smile. “Today was rough.” She lifts his hand to her lips and presses a kiss to his knuckles. “As soon as you are better we’re going to have a conversation about you sacrificing yourself like that for me.” 

“I’d do anything for you.” 

Emily shakes her head at him and rolls her eyes. “You’re an idiot.” 

“But you love me.” 

Emily smiles and kisses him, pulling back just enough to to speak. “I really do.” 

__________________

She shows him the video footage of him in the hospital as soon as they get home, him in their bed on rest for at least a month. She giggles as he tries, and fails, to take her phone from her, his usual strength failing him with one of his arms out of action. 

He promises all sorts of filthy things, once he’s better, in exchange for her deleting the video, which she does in front of him.

It’s only at the office Christmas party a few months later when it pops up in the montage Penelope puts together every year he realises he’s been duped. 

[klvbxlove]

worried (yu x gn! reader)

a/n: God, i’ve got so many ideas for persona 4 fanfics so y’all might see some coming soon LMAO. but no worries, i’ll try my best to write more iida drabbles as well (of course, i could never forget my number one anime husbando. but i’ll be honest, kanji might take his place very soon? maybe? huehuehue). anyways, i saw some persona 4 requests in my inbox (which i did not expect, haha), but i’ll try my best to get to them whenever possible! so until then, enjoy this yu drabble :)

reader type: gender neutral 

reader specification(s): none

genre(s): angst, hurt/comfort

trigger warning(s): mentions of car accidents, mentions of injuries

summary: after being a coma from a car accident, you finally woke up, much to the huge relief of your family and friends, especially yu.

word count: 2.6k words

♡ ♡ ♡ (ꈍᴗꈍ)ε｀*) ♡ ♡ ♡

key:

(e/c) = eye color (l/n) = last name (y/n) = your name

♡ ♡ ♡ (ꈍᴗꈍ)ε｀*) ♡ ♡ ♡

   Today should have been another day of you and the Investigation Team hanging out with Yu. He had come back to Inaba a few days ago for another (surprisingly long) break, and you were excited to see him again. 

   But unfortunately, no. That day did not happen. 

   Instead, you found yourself in a hospital room. You had woken up almost a week ago, having no idea what had happened. All you remembered is that as soon as you got the strength to sit up from your hospital bed, you felt nothing but excruciating pain. And when you looked down at your body, your (E/C) eyes widened at the extent of your injuries. You were in terrible condition. 

   Then a few minutes later, the nurses and doctors rushed into your room in complete shock when they realized you woke up. At first, you were confused. But then they explained everything. From what you could recall, you were hanging out with your friends when you saw Yu’s younger cousin, Nanako, standing in the road. Realizing there was a car heading towards her, your instincts caught up with you, and you quickly pushed the younger girl out of the way, which ultimately resulted in you getting hit. 

   Unfortunately, the impact was so severe that you had slipped into a coma. Even with the surgery (which luckily was a success), you were still fighting for your life. The staff had no idea if you would even wake up. 

   Your eyes widened in shock. However, the one thing that made your shock worse was when one of the doctors said that there was a chance you would have died due to the severity of your injuries. “Consider yourself lucky,” one of the doctors said, “Because if not, well, there would not be much we could have done to save you,”

   You were in disbelief. You could have died?!

   WHAT THE HELL?!

   You swear, you almost thought your jaw dropped. You did not even know how long you laid there in bed, thinking of the word ‘died.’ 

   D-I-E-D.

   There was nothing but silence (you could almost hear a pin drop) for a few minutes after taking in the news. 

   Then you heard that your family and friends knew of the accident and you would be able to have visitors in a few days. But all you could do was think about how injured you were. It was bad enough that you were in this condition. However, you could not wrap your brain around the fact that you might have been dead. 

   And then your family would have to set up a funeral for you, bury your body underground, and you would be there until the end of time. 

   Maybe you would even have a spirit in whatever place you ended up after death. 

   Oh God, you could not even think to imagine how your family and friends would react. Especially the Investigation Team--

   Wait a minute. The Investigation Team! 

   Now the worry was starting to kick in. You just realized that you have not heard from your friends since you woke up. Not at least one thing from one of the members (and nothing from Nanako either!). You had no idea if anyone had told them what happened to you when you arrived or the fact that you were alive. Hell, you would not be surprised if they thought you were still in a coma and would be for who knows how long. 

   You sighed, the apprehension still in you. Today was certainly not your day. You just wanted to be able to hang out with Yu again before he had to go back to Tokyo (even though it was a long way from now). But you had no idea when you would be able to leave the hospital! Not for a while, that was for sure. You might as well try to dwell in pure boredom. 

  Oh yeah, and also try to ignore the pain. You might have felt slightly better for the past few days, but the agony was still shooting in almost every part of your body. You could only hope that all of this will be over soon. And then later, when you were finally feeling better, you would be back home with your family.

-

   “(L/N)?”

   You were in the middle of messing with your bedsheets when you heard your name. Looking up, you saw one of the nurses giving you a small smile as she stood next to your bed. You did not even remember hearing her walk towards you. I guess you got a little too caught up with your bedsheets. “How are you feeling now, sweetheart? Any more pain or anything?”

   You looked off to steal a glance at one of the hospital walls. The pain was still there, but it was not bothering you compared to the day you woke up. You could say that you were fine (mostly), but you could not find the strength to tell the nurse for some reason. No, you did not care that you looked like you were  staring off into the distance pondering about life. 

   “(L/N)? Are you alright?”

   The voice brought you back to reality, and you saw the nurse looking at you with a somewhat concerned look on her face. 

   “Oh, sorry. I’m fine, for now,” you said,  “No pain or anything,”

   “Alright,” the nurse smiled in relief. “I know the staff and I keep telling you this so many times, but if you begin to feel pain or need any assistance, you let someone know, okay?” 

   “I know, thank you,” you nodded. 

   “Of course,” the nurse looked over at the door, “Now, you got a visitor who wants to see you. Well, he and a couple of his other friends wanted to see you for a while. We had to tell them no since you were still in a coma at the time, but they were determined to go to your room,” she chuckled sheepishly. 

   “Who is it?” you asked. The last time you knew, your family members had visited first. 

   “Yu Narukami, one of your classmates,” the nurse answered. “Would you like me to let him in?”

   You blinked before nodding. “Yeah, sure,”

   It was only a few seconds of silence you faced in your hospital room. During that timespan, you began to feel nervous about your friend being in the same room as you without the Investigation Team (wherever they were). Your heart was almost beating at the thought of it, and you could feel a blush on your cheeks; if you were capable of blushing, that is. 

   But before you knew it, you instantly recognized the familiar gray-haired male as he walked inside. 

   Upon his eyes glancing upon you, Yu’s eyes widened. “(Y-Y/N),” he said, “You’re awake.”

   You nodded, giving him a weak smile and waving with your free hand. “Yep, I am.” 

   Yu walked over to sit at the chair next to your bed. “How have you been lately?”

   “Slightly better compared to when I woke up, but only slightly,” you replied honestly. “Still feeling some pain. Hopefully, when I get out of the hospital, I’ll feel much better.” 

   “That’s good to hear,” Yu gave you a small smile.

   Then you paused. “How about the others? Are they okay?--” And of course, there was another person you were worried about, “--What about Nanako? Is she hurt?”

   “No need to worry, everyone is alright, just a bit shook up after the incident, though,” Yu said, letting out a light chuckle. “Nanako only had some bruises on her legs when you pushed her out of the way, but that was only it. Everyone would have come to visit you alongside me today, but they got busy. And Nanako came down with some sickness. Not the flu or anything major, but we decided to let her rest until she recovers. They promised they would find the time to visit you when they can.”

   You sighed in relief. “At least no one else was hurt. As much as I hate being in the hospital in pain, it’s better than seeing Nanako here for the same reason. I think that would hurt more than my injuries, and they hurt like hell, you know?”

   “But being treated for severe injuries in the hospital is still frightening, (Y/N),” Yu pointed out, “Everyone watched as you got hit by the car. It was awful, you know? You were bleeding so much from your head, too.” The gray-haired male felt like he was about to wince in pain, seeing the injuries you had. 

   “Yeah, I honestly dunno much of what happened after getting hit, other than feeling immense pain,” you admitted, scratching your cheek, “I could only hear muffled voices, but that was it. And then I just closed my eyes. Must have slipped into that coma or something afterward.”

   “Maybe you did.” 

   Moments of silence passed, and Yu felt a knot in his stomach. It had been like that for almost a week. Every time he would think of you in your hospital room in a coma, he would have to go somewhere else alone to relieve his thoughts. But even then, it still was not enough to help him. How could he even talk about his feelings to someone? Yu was aware he had the other members on the Investigation Team to talk to, but he could see them struggling. 

   There was only one person he could talk to about it.

   “(Y/N), I-- Listen,” Yu spoke up in seriousness. Once you looked up at him after staring at your cast, he continued, “I have no idea how else I’m going to begin talking about this. But do you realize how happy I-- no, we are that you’re alive?”

   Huh?

   Okay, that took me off guard.

   You had to admit you were puzzled. How were you supposed to answer that? It was not as if you could put yourself in the shoes of one of your friends. You did not even know what it was like to wait for someone to come out of their coma. So really, you could only shrug at his question. 

   “I remembered when the nurses told us you slipped into a coma and you would need surgery," Yu continued, "God, we were just in shock. No one said anything; you could hear a pin drop in the waiting room. But as soon as they left us alone, we just started crying, you know. Silently, though. But Teddie was the only one wailing.

   “And Nanako?” Yu paused a bit before picking back up, “Well, at first, she looked like she was trying to hold back her tears. That is until we went back to my house. She just started sobbing, saying how it was her fault that you were hurt. She blamed herself for being on the road since she knew it was dangerous. Of course, we kept telling her that it wasn’t her fault, but it was no help. Not even Uncle was able to calm Nanako down, and so she just cried until she fell asleep.”

   If your heart could physically break, it might as well be in a million pieces by now. Your injuries were suddenly hurting way less than seeing Nanako sobbing.

   Meanwhile, Yu looked down at his lap as he felt himself about to shake. “It hurts so much just seeing her upset. And Nanako still blames herself to this day. By that point, it felt like there was not anything else the rest of us could do other than to dwell in sadness. We even had to wait to visit you at the time since the nurses wouldn’t allow any visitors. I just hated not knowing if you were going to live. I hated thinking that there was a chance you would die.”

   Something caught your eyes. 

   Teardrops. 

   They were coming out of his eyes and falling onto his lap. 

   You could even hear small cries coming from him. 

   Oh God, no.

   Why did this hurt a lot?

   “DAMN IT!” 

   You felt yourself jump hearing Yu yell out like that. But what startled you most (it made a squeal come out of you) was when the gray-haired male suddenly engulfed you into a warm hug. The grip was not tight enough to where you could not breathe, but you could tell he was holding onto you as if you were going to slip out of his reach. Yu rested his head against your shoulder, and you were beginning to feel tears staining your hospital gown. It did not even matter that there were butterflies in your stomach. 

   “D-Damn it, (Y/N),” you heard his voice almost cracking,  “You gave us a scare there! I know it would be rude to blame you for getting into that accident since you weren’t asking to get hit by a car. And, of course, I am incredibly thankful that you saved Nanako from getting hurt. But still! I could go over and over again about how relieved we were when we heard you had woken up. We thought it would never happen and that you would never make it.” 

   “Yu...” 

   You felt tears in the corners of your eyes. Damn, you were getting emotional. If there was one thing you hated, it was seeing someone close to you (especially if it was someone you loved) so upset that they cried. And that was what Yu was doing. So you wrapped your arms around him and rubbed his back. His grip on you tightened, but you did not care. All you wanted was for him to let out his tears. 

   Once his cries had turned into sniffles, he lifted his head to make eye contact with you. You could feel your tears pouring out just seeing his tears. You cupped his cheeks with your hands.

   “I’m sorry about that, (Y/N),” Yu mumbled. 

   “No need for an apology,” you assured him. “I know how you-- no, I know I’ll never fully understand what it was like for you guys after the car accident. I mean, how could I? But still, I had no intention of scaring you guys.”

   More silence passed. God, you had no idea what to say at that point. You had no idea how your other friends had been coping through this time, but it was evident there were tears shed. Besides Nanako, you did not even want to imagine their disheartened faces. You knew that you had to comfort Yu in some way. But how?

   You sighed.

   Saying this might as well work. 

   “Look...Yu, listen to me,” you found your voice as you looked into his eyes. “I know you and the others are still upset. I get it. But please don’t go dwelling on the past anymore, okay? Yes, it was a scary situation that should NOT have happened-- it sucked that it even occurred right when you were visiting us --but in the end, I’m alright. Of course, it will take a while for me to recover, but I will do my best to get through this as quickly as possible for you and everyone else.

   “So please,” your thumbs began to gently wipe at Yu’s on pouring tears, “don’t cry anymore. I promise you I’ll be alright.” 

   That was when a sudden bolt of bravery came from inside you. So you leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek.

   You spoke every word as if you meant it (because you did!). You no longer wanted to be a burden to everyone around you. You worried your family and friends enough in the hospital, so the least you could do was make it through your recovery. All you could hope was for Yu to be reassured by everything you said. 

   And thankfully, it worked as he gave you a nod and a tearful smile (you could almost see a light blush covering his cheeks from the kiss). Yu hugged you again, placing his forehead against your shoulder. “Thank you, (Y/N),” he mumbled, “Thank you so much,” 

   “You’re welcome,” you whispered.

[ironmandeficiency]

accidents happen

pairing: kix / mechanic!reader (afab here)

word count: 2163

summary: accidents happen even to the most careful people.

a/n: can be read as part of the kix/mechanic!reader universe i accidentally made (here, here, and here). made some tweaks to the og req but stuck to the general theme. sprinkled in a few of my oc boys for ✨flair✨

warnings: speeder crash, prego!reader

you don’t remember much of the speeder crash. it was a blur of lights, a cacophony of twisting metal and the screams of passersby as they worry about the wellbeing of those involved. that is, until your head slammed too hard against the controls and knocked you out cold.

the sensations of latex icicles checking your pulse roused you from your unconscious state. your eyes struggled against the bright lights of what you knew was the five-oh-first medbay, the foggy yet familiar voices of frantic clones being a dead giveaway. they were worried about many things—your condition after the wreck, whether you would be able to return to field work with them once you recovered, kix’s reaction once he catches wind of what happened...

kix hadn’t kept his cool when your arm was slightly crushed by general skywalker’s delta-7 aethersprite, how was he going to handle his cyare being in a speeder crash?

answer’s simple: he wouldn’t.

kix had just left the operating room when he heard the commotion of a new patient being brought in. jogging to the cot where they lifted the patient, he pushed his way through the unusually tight crowd of vode until he got to the foot of the bed. “alright boys, what do we got?”

“speeder crash just outside of 500 republica, two broken ribs, a—oh we got it taken care of kix, go get some rest-”

“you just left surgery, take a break!”

“this’ll be easy peasy, we got it!”

the voices of his brothers were agitated as the crowd was damn near trying to push him away. with a few well-placed nudges and shoulder bumps, kix realized that they indeed were trying to push him away. this just made him all the more intent on figuring out why they were trying to boot him out. he was a medic for kriff’s sake, bronco had no business trying to shove him out of the way like that!

“easy peasy my shebs, bronco! i…”

it was you.

you were lying unconscious on the bed in front of him, surrounded by brothers on all sides as the other medics, clone and civvie alike, were taking care of you. there was an oozing, bloody gash along your temple and a growing knot that was already grossly discolored.

it was instinct for kix to want to take point on this. it was you, he didn’t want anything to go wrong. and if something did go wrong, he wouldn’t want to have the scapegoat of blaming a vod for anything. it had to be on him, he had to be the one to take care of you.

the protests of several vode immediately follow kix’s insistence, multiple hands starting to pull him from your bedside. he begins to struggle against them and they immediately start to grip him tighter as they guide him towards the exit.

“you can’t do this! i need to-mmph! be here! let me go!”

“you know why we can’t do that, vod.”

“bantha karking shit you can’t! i need to be there, you don’t understand!”

arguments continued and tension mounted in the medbay, kix still fighting to get to you while the others were either treating you or holding him back. all other conscious thought ceased to be, the gut instinct of taking care of you being his only purpose.

then a firm voice booms through the chaos with enough force to wake the dead as he calls the medic’s name.

“leave, kix. that’s an order.”

rex’s heart was being smashed by his own boot as he spoke. he hated having to be the one giving the ultimatum to the frightened medic in front of him, but as captain, the burden fell onto him. kix was clearly not able to separate you from what needs to be done for the patient and he was not going to allow that kind of responsibility on his vod’s shoulders.

not if he was going to be able to sleep tonight.

rex’s eyes betrayed how much it hurt him, but the bristling of his words showed no such emotion. he couldn’t show any of this inner conflict, not as a captain and especially not as ori’vod to nearly every man surrounding your bed. but the men know that their captain isn’t heartless, that he views you as one of the best things to happen to the five-oh-first, that he has a reason for everything he does.

it takes a hell of a lot more convincing (read: sedative) to get kix to back down. rex and fives carried the medic to the barracks, taking care to lay him down gently. the proximity to the younger trooper told rex that a sedated kix was having more of an effect on him than he let on.

even though fives had other duties to take care of while on leave, rex knew that a distracted fives would not be able to complete any of them to his regular standards. so, like a good captain and ori’vod, he excused the younger brother from his tasks.

“you can stay with him,” rex could read the arc trooper like a datapad; fives was tense and afraid, two feelings that only his closest brothers would recognize on him. “he’ll probably feel better if someone’s here when he wakes up.”

“but rex—“

“i know you stayed with him the last time his cyare was injured, fives. he would be grateful to have someone with him during this.” fives nodded his thanks grimly, taking his perch at kix’s bedside.

rex returned to the medbay with haste, hoping against hope that your injuries were mild. his return to the medbay was met with you awake, recounting the story of how you were rammed by a rogue speeder that ran their traffic light.

“we’re just glad you’re okay, gotabor.”

“yeah, no speeder can keep you down.”

a wave of peace rushes over the tired captain and he takes his leave. you were okay, kix would be okay, the five-oh-first would be okay.

queen and starchild continued to praise your resilience (“the toughest mechanic in the gar” is what you’ve been dubbed) before they’re cut off briskly by morticus, whose face was sporting a strangely lighter expression, like some of the burdens he carried were lightened for a moment.

“but we also have some news, gotabor. some that you really should be told in private.”

your first instinct is to tell morticus that you trust these men with your life, that anything he had to say could be said in front of them. but something in his eyes told you that pushing the matter wouldn’t end well. “i’ll be here when you get back, boys,” you give the remaining troopers soft smiles and a gentle squeeze of their hands, reassuring them that you were okay now, that in the hands of the five-oh-first you were the safest you’ve ever been.

they took a reluctant leave, looking over their shoulders one last time as they left the medbay. it wasn’t that they didn’t trust morticus, no not that at all, it just seemed that you had a penchant for getting injured and when brothers were repeatedly injured in increasingly severe ways, they didn’t always stay around much longer.

morticus is quick to say what he needs to, privacy being a very rare luxury in a five-oh-first medbay whether on leave or otherwise. “now that we have some privacy, gotabor, i have some news.” again, there was this happier lilt to his voice that he just didn’t have. morticus was stoic, cynical, even a bit dickish on the right day. to see him smile and sound happy about something was abnormal but pleasant all the same.

“is everything alright?”

“more than alright—you’re expecting.”

your face warped in your confusion, eyebrows crinkled and lips slightly pursed. “expecting what, morti?”

this man laughed—genuinely laughed—at your reply and if you weren’t so distracted by your perplexion, you would have said something about how nice his laugh is.

“a child, gotabor’ika. you’re pregnant.”

a sly grin made an appearance, morticus’s voice slightly teasing. the air was lighter around him than it has been in a long time and he was going to enjoy it with everything he’s got. “i’m going to assume that the baby belongs to kix—“

“of course it’s his, di’kut! but we had been so careful, always using protection! i don’t know how this happened…” racking your brain, you tried to remember a time when the two of you were a little less than careful but came up empty. “we weren’t trying for this, morti. it just happened, it was an accident.”

he patted your thigh with a smile. “sometimes accidents happen to even the most careful people. just take this as a win and keep going.” something to your far left beeped—another brother’s machine—and morticus quickly reverted back to tense medic mode, scrutinizing the readings before taking notes in their datapad and returning to your side.

“you got this, gotabor. you’re made of the stronger stuff.” he flurries around you, making sure you’re as comfortable as possible before telling you to rest and that kix will be with you soon. it didn’t take a seasoned member of the resolute to know that kix was so devoted and bent on protecting you however possible, and you knew that he was probably sedated yet again. he would be here when he’s up, you know he will. you just hoped that he liked what he was waking up to.

rex made sure to stop by kix’s bunk to tell fives that you were conscious and by all accounts, appeared to only be mildly banged up. the way the tension fell from his vodika’s shoulders comforted rex, glad that he could give the arc good news to depart onto the unconscious medic before them, the smile on his face genuine as he departed from the barracks.

it wasn’t very long after rex left that kix began to stir. as predicted by fives and the rest of those aware of the situation, his first waking thoughts and concerns were for you. the arc was quick to console his vod and encouraged him to go to the medbay to see you as if kix could have been stopped. fives had to bargain (and trade some of his favorite candies from his stash) to convince kix to let him walk to the medbay with him, the medic still on shaky legs after being sedated.

everyone with a lick of sense knew to steer clear of kix until he was able to see you again. they made a path for him and fives without hesitation, knowing that all hell would be let loose if any of them tried to stop their advancing to the medbay.

“special delivery for gotabor’ika!” fives shouts as he enters, promptly getting shushed by coric and morticus.

you laugh from your cot when you hear your second favorite trooper before you see him. “over here, fives!” he follows your voice and soon, kix is being deposited on the foot of your bed with a smile.

fives grins and pokes his cheek, signaling for a small peck in return for his services. “now if you’ll just sign here-ow!” honestly he should expect the light slap you deliver to his face instead. “you got him from here, gotabor. get better soon, i don’t trust those kriffing ships without ya!” he leaves with a smile and a wave, comforted to see that you’re truly okay.

kix still hasn’t laid down with you and you’re slightly worried. by now, he’d be wrapped all over you like a tooka to lothnip. you nudge him with your foot to get his attention and when he finally meets your gaze, his eyes are wet. it looks like he’s trying his best to not cry but it’s soon to be a losing battle.

“kix, baby what’s-“

“you’re pregnant.”

the datapad with the reports of your injuries and conditions is cradled in his palms. bloodwork has never lied to him before but every nerve is on edge, like this would all be pulled out from under him the moment he let himself indulge in the what-if’s.

you weren’t sure how he would react to the news and he isn’t exactly giving you any hints as to how he feels about this which slightly worries you; kix has never been one too shy away from telling you his thoughts and the fact he’s doing it now has your stomach in a knot. “honey, what-“

your question can’t even leave your lips before the datapad is tossed on the bed and he’s wrapping his arms around you, face buried into your shoulder and failing to hold back the tears. at least he doesn’t seem to be angry, that’s a plus. “i love you so much, ner gotabor,” he raises his head to meet your eyes, one hand resting on your stomach with a teary smile. “i love both of you.”

kix taglist: @blue-space-porgs @leias-left-hair-bun @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @olluea @catsnkooks @simping-for-fives @captainrexstan @mackstrut @battletales @stardustsunrisekisses @darthadeline @artemis61003 @majorshiraharu @getdookuedon @capricornrabies @jedi-mando @whovianwar @hornystarwarsbisexual @bo-kryze

[gumnut-logic]

Wire (Bit 17)

Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 | Bit 4 | Bit 5 | Bit 6   | Bit 7 | Bit 8  | Bit 9  | Bit 10

Bit 11 | Bit 12 | Bit 13 | Bit 14 | Bit 15 | Bit 16 | Bit 17

I thought this was going to be the last bit, but Virgil threw a spanner in the works. there is at least one more bit plus an epilogue (which I had in mind before the spanner - Virg, why did you have to bring Molly into this?)

Many thanks to @gaviiadastra and @scribbles97 for the read through and support. @gaviiadastra caught me when I was feeling a bit meh about this bit and threw an idea my way that has thrown spark into the next bit. Both of you are so wonderful to me.

And thank you again to @katblu42 whose input a few bits back resulted in a good chunk of this bit :D

Thunderfam is truly an amazing fandom to be in. You all rock! The support everyone has given me for this fic has been absolutely amazing ::hugs you all to bits::

I hope you enjoy this little bit. We are nearly there.

-o-o-o-

Virgil woke clearer and clearer as time went on. His head ached horribly and a mirror held up by Alan revealed exactly the state of his hair.

He was not impressed at all.

Brain surgery, apparently.

And gut surgery. He got a glimpse of his stomach during a dressing change and discovered his six pack had multiplied into something like twenty with some rather exciting scars likely to result.

Virgil wasn’t vain, really, but it was going to be an ass to work himself back to health, much less back into his ‘bird. It was enough to make a man swear.

And swear he did when he found out the details as to exactly why the building had fallen on him in the first place.

However, Politician MF, a title coined by Gordon and frowned upon by Grandma, had already been obliterated. The man’s career was in tatters, his financial situation crippled, and he was currently a resident of the local jail.

A frown in John’s direction produced a shrug. “Eos was unhappy and had the time.” The thinning of his space brother’s lips pretty much proved an alliance between father and daughter.

An arched eyebrow in Scott’s direction only proved that the commander had turned a blind and incredibly upset eye away and claimed no knowledge of anything.

The media were having a field day.

The holoprojector above Virgil’s bed told him many things.

The world had been advised by a very relieved Scott Tracy that Virgil was awake and on the mend. His brother had also expressed extensive thanks for all the gifts and outpouring of emotion from the general public towards his brother and International Rescue.

That was when Virgil discovered exactly what had happened while he was asleep. He still couldn’t get out of bed, his abdomen not ready to support him sitting up quite yet, so it was his brothers who brought in the amazing gifts to show him.

Armful by armful.

Of course, that wasn’t everything.

But it was more than enough. Stuffed toys, cards and flowers, apparently there were enough edibles to feed half the hospital and Virgil was ever so fast to ask if there was a paediatric ward. He was reassured that Scott had already seen to it and these were the leftovers...that were still accumulating.

Virgil was rendered speechless.

He picked up a small hand-crocheted Thunderbird Two with googly eyes. Those eyes bounced at him as his hand shook. A fabric tag had been sewn in with a ‘Get well soon, Virgil’ stitched on it.

He blinked as his eyesight blurred.

His room was full of similar items. There was even a hand-stitched doll of himself in full uniform. It was…overwhelming.

A hand on his arm. “Don’t worry, Gordon already tried voodoo on it and it didn’t work.” Scott’s smile was honest and distracted him enough to stabilise his emotions.

“Gordon would.”

Scott’s lips thinned a little and had Virgil wondering exactly what Gordon had done with the doll. It looked in one piece from here.

“They love you, Virg. You do good.”

“We do good.”

The hand on his arm squeezed gently. “Yeah, we do.”

“I want to thank them.”

“I already have.”

“I haven’t.”

“Virg-“

“Can you set it up for me?” It wasn’t often Virgil spoke to the press and he was fully aware of the mess he was in at the moment, but he wanted to do this. “Please?”

Scott sighed. “Only when you can sit up. I’m not having the press in here. Your health comes first.”

Virgil pressed his lips together stubbornly but took the offer for what it was.

“And I will be with you.” Scott’s expression brooked no argument.

“I guessed that.” He reached up slowly and placed his hand over his brother’s. “Thank you.”

Scott grunted, but his eyes smiled anyway.

-o-o-o-

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