#i’ve gotten 2 nursing awards since starting there 4 years ago and I get the same raise as every one else

[mynameismckenziemae]

☝🏻I just got this email from my manager.

Because having a student, working for 2 doctors by myself, training a float among my (many) other clinical lead duties isn’t enough.

I’m saying no.

[straane]

Motherworld (Ch. 1/?)

Title: Motherworld

Author: strane-stelle

Fandom: Final Fantasy X

Central characters: Tidus

Rating: 12+

Chapters: 1/?  Chapter 2  Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Word count: 2636

Summary: “The fayth said it’s pointless to keep dreaming. The dream will disappear, he said. What did he mean?” After a long journey, Tidus finally gets to go home.

Warnings: Nothing too horrible content-wise (yet), apart from a ton of OCs (as required by the premise!)

Other comments: credit goes to @shuyiin​ for the idea. (that IS you, right?? with the @leviathkand RP blog?? pls tell me I’m not mistaken lol)  

Chapter 1 - The Storm

”I love you.”

The words felt surreal, dreamlike; belonging to another time, another place. It was as though he could have imagined them, fantasized them; almost like he barely heard them. It was as though they were addressed to someone else; as though this was not really happening to him. Because the truth was, the words were real. She was real. Everything around him was real. He was the dream.

Tidus gazed down at his arms once more. There was a vague, glossy greenness, and a lot more airship deck where his muscles used to be. No wonder he couldn't hear a thing. Were his ears even there anymore?

”I love you.”

Then it hit him again; with full force, like thunder. Tidus swung around. He saw Yuna's figure. She had gotten up.

”I love you.”

He loved her too. And he had heard her loud and clear. He could see her with a striking precision; like he had never seen a living thing before. He was still here, he belonged here. He belonged with her. He had better go to her.  

His thoughts, his motions, his entire existence; it all seemed to just melt into a last, wordless goodbye. He lifted his pellucid arms and he embraced her around the shoulders; from behind, unable to bear looking at her. She didn’t turn around – and it was doubtful she could feel it. Time stood still, finally, after a lifetime of slipping away. It was the most perfect and the most unforgiving moment.

Even as he let go of her, he was still there. Even as he heard his steps – or imagined them clopping down on the deck – he felt the touch of her skin. He pictured every inch of her frame; walked up to her once again, caught the scent of her hair; imagined saying all the things he had wanted to say.    

He wanted to recall her face, but he couldn't – it was too late. He was flying. Nothing was real anymore. He thought he saw Jecht, extending a hand to his son.

”Way to ruin the moment, old man. Knew I could count on you.”

- - -

Greenish colors. A ceiling fan. A dishwasher. A trace of that obstinate smell, neither too pleasant nor too pungent. An ever so subtle rocking motion. That mildly annoying radio show that he listened to on weekends, if only because he was too lazy to turn the darn thing off.  

”Ha ha, very funny. You promised me an ocean. This is a boat.”

”Is something wrong?”

”Well, yeah! It's also my house. You already took me here, remember? When you told me I wasn't real and stuff, you remember that? 'Cause I do.”

”We remember.”

”Well, can you get on with the whole disappearing thing? Think I've had enough of dreaming.”

”You have? Well then! You better wake up, star player.”

And wake up he did, with a start. Eyes popping open, he jumped to his elbows, and they immediately failed him.

”Whoa! Hey, easy, easy! Is this really happening? Wow, welcome back, I guess!”

Tidus stared wide-eyed at the speaker, hovering over him. The man had a kind expression, but the ”star player”, as he had been addressed, had immediate trouble accepting that he was neither Auron nor Jecht. Nor the fayth.

”What are you doing at my house? What is this?” He remained lying on his back, not feeling up to another attempt at sitting up, but reluctantly so. He was suddenly hyper-aware of how the pillowcase felt against his neck. Nothing made sense, but Tidus's emergency reflexes were still there, in fact minutes ahead of him. And they demanded answers.

The middle-aged man held up his hands, nodded understandingly, and seemed to deliberately mold his expression for a calm, patient explanation.

”It's okay. You're safe. My name is Dr. Cidron. You're home, this is your house, just like you said. You were missing for some time, but you're back home now.” He gave laugh that was both light-hearted and carefully contemplated. ”Your fans are going to be so relieved.”

Tidus gaped at him, dumbfounded. He had understood every word, yet it had all flown over his head. His brain was only slowly growing accustomed to this new face, which was roundish; with a thick, brown skin; attached to a tragically balding head with dark tufts of hair in all the wrong places.  He was stocky in build and indeed wore a doctor's coat.

The good doctor gave a long pause, so as to make room for his patient to panic some more, seemingly. But as nothing came, he gave a laugh again, glancing sideways.

”You don't remember me, do you? About twelve years ago, was it? You had sprained your ankle at blitzball practice. And broken a toe, yes, now I remember. Your father grudgingly took you to the doctor. That doctor was me. I was quite star-struck, of course, I could've been more attentive to you. I'm sorry.”

”My father…” Tidus mused blankly, before he heard the front door open, putting him right back on guard. A very young and very blonde nurse scuttled in, carrying what looked like a bag of groceries, and another, smaller bag of medical supplies. She just about dropped them from her white-gloved hands onto the kitchen table, and darted over to them.

”You're awake!” she screamed.

Dr. Cidron made a subtle gesture at his colleague, and she nodded in mild embarrassment. As she sat down, Tidus noticed she started fidgeting with her necklace, which he could tell; even with her two fingers around it; was official Abes merchandise. For a fleeting moment, he felt grounded again. He really was back.

At both of their reactions, Dr. Cidron momentarily seemed to change his mind about his patient's mental and bodily health.

”Yes, that's right… I'm sorry, perhaps we should slow down. Do you know who you are, what your name is? This is Evy, by the way.”  

Now with two strangers in his house, medical professionals or not; Tidus gathered what remained of his strength to sit up. Suddenly, there was a fair amount.

Tidus waved off the pair's protests at him ”straining himself”, and decided he wanted more answers. Or rather, needed them – did he exactly want to know?

”Okay, uh… I know who I am, and um,” he couldn't help a dejected chuckle, ”what team I play for, and…. who my father is…. yeah...” He had to take a pause. He remembered all too well. ”So, yeah, no need for a recap there!” He realized he was wearing a set of light blue pyjamas that smelled like hospital. He gripped the soft collar and gazed down. ”But like… what happened to me? Why am I here?” 

Tidus wished the fayth had been there to answer him. Because he was not asking why he was recovering at home from some presumed accident, with the appropriate medical staff taking care of him. He was asking why he was back in Zanarkand – his Zanarkand. Dream Zanarkand.

He was asking if these two citizens – who already manifested so much personality, and so much history – if they did not know that they, too, were…

”'It's not that you're dreaming... You are a dream.'”

”Well, it all began when… I'm sorry?”

”No, please continue. It all began when…”

- - -

A variety of colors. Two big lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Ceramics everywhere. Something delicious cooking on the stove. A sense of cautious comfort. The regretful words from Wakka, ”Sorry, man. No time for lunch yet.”

Tidus was not dreaming. He did not remotely think any of these things were there. Yet they felt more real, more painfully tangible, than what was actually happening at this very moment. Namely, a press conference at the stadium hall. Or at least, at a stadium hall, seeing as the building had faced a lot of reconstruction since he had last roamed its corridors. Gone were the brown marble walls, the matching pillars, the Jecht memorial exhibition on the northern wall, and quite simply the windows. In were what looked like a set of cardboard flaps (and felt like, judging by the chilly indoor air), makeshift pillars, construction workers salvaging and probably stealing what remained of his father's award collection, and… ventilation outlets.

In was also a massive, anxious crowd of reporters. Of course, Tidus had been surrounded by crowds of reporters before. But never before, it seemed, had there been such a general fervency, such a sense of insatiability, such a stir. Except, naturally, ten years ago, when Jecht had vanished. Now he, the son, had pulled the same stunt, only he had done it better. For once, he had bested his old man at something. He had come back.

With the cameras flashing, the mics pointed towards their single target, and several live broadcast screens in that very room alone, the story very much seemed to be writing itself before the hero himself had said a word. And say a word out of place he would not, if the people sitting next to him at the table could help it.  

Sports agents and bodyguards were largely nominal positions on the Zanarkand blitzball scene. Almost all of the top players had one of each, and both were paid a decent salary, but most of the time they would work with mundane, impersonal aspects such as paperwork and transportation logistics, and were only called to their particular duties for special occasions… or extraordinary circumstances.

His agent's was among the first familiar faces Tidus had seen since his return. It was quite unnerving a face. Leo was a former blitzball player of medium fame, from between the times of Jecht's passing and Tidus's big break. In the manner of a true grumpy washout at the worldly age of 33, Leo was mostly remembered for his perpetual scowl – accomplished by the very narrow eyes and bushy, slanted eyebrows – rather than any sort of remarkable athletic prowess. Tidus had always thought him observant, but since their first handshake two weeks before, he had gotten an almost ominous feeling from the man. That he knew. That he just could tell. Exactly what he could tell, Tidus wasn't sure, but the agent most certainly had a hunch, and was doing a poor job of hiding it. There was no escaping that piercing stare.

To Tidus's left side, on the other hand, sat quite the opposite case, for better or worse. Bern was a laid-back, nonchalant presence, as seemingly idle as he was bulky. The very opposite of ”dumb muscle”, he appeared intelligent in a book-smart sort of way, and seemed to have actually quite enjoyed his work as, effectively, an accountant. On paper, however, he was still Tidus's bodyguard, and obviously in top physical form, and both obedient and competent enough to fit into the picture. So far, he was the only one of the ”I never bought into your disappearance anyway” camp that Tidus actually believed, even if he still wasn't sure about the meaning of this particular conspiracy theory. Bern, he classified as a different sort of unnerving.

Dr. Cidron was also there, two seats apart. He was smiling and giving his patient a thumbs-up or drumming a fist to his chest at regular intervals. Tidus smiled right back, even if it was mostly giving him nausea. Evy was also around, somewhere in the audience, by merit of her nurse's work and a honorary press card. In any case, she was probably stationed at a safe distance from her idol – in fact, Tidus was finding her unexpectedly difficult to spot.  

The chatter across the hall was rising to deafening levels. Finally, someone announced that Tidus of the Zanarkand Abes would be taking questions now, which Leo first denied, then resentfully confirmed. The room exploded.

Here and there, Tidus caught a question from the noise ocean.

”Tidus, will you be back in the pool soon? Have you been practicing hard?”

With the Aurochs, I guess. I wonder how they’re holding up without Wakka.

“What’s the last thing you remember about the storm? What kind of injuries did you suffer?”

The storm? Ohhh… they mean Sin.

“Your legal guardian, Auron, is still missing. How do you respond to the rumor that he abducted you?”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

“Silence!” Leo spat into his microphone, startling his protégé as well. “One at a time, please. The fair young lady in the front row.”

It was Evy the nurse. Right there all along…

She drew a sharp breath, not having expected to go first, and in absolute panic just managed to splutter, “Oh, um… first of all… thank you… for being back… it’s an honor… I mean… I was… like, I got to take care of… um, they found you at the sea, which is also, incidentally, um… also where you father disappeared, so I was thinking… since blitzball players can breathe underwater… do you think…” 

Tidus was catching on, and he even knew the answer, but Leo rolled his eyes, “Okay, thank you. Right there in the middle, yes, the gentleman with the yellow scarf. You write for Blitzwatch, correct? Thank heavens for that.”  

“Right, so,” the fashionable reporter began, as the stuttering nurse seemed to shrink away behind him, “Tidus, how are you feeling after such a traumatic experience? It’s only been, what – two, three weeks.”

Tidus nodded cautiously, tapping his microphone before answering. The volume was set ridiculously loud, but so far no one had complained about hearing his every breath and cough.

“Yeah… I’m fine. I’m good. I’m… glad to be back.” Tidus hesitated for a moment, and while the audience cheered and some already spouted follow-up questions, he decided he might as well be honest. “I guess it feels strange. Very… strange. It… it really was quite an experience, and it feels almost… surreal to be back.”

Another round of cheers followed, booming and boisterous. Tidus wasn’t sure what exactly they were making of his answer, but evidently they loved it to bits. All except Leo, who was drilling a hole into him with his laser stare.  

“Lady with the pink hair. No, not you – her.”

“Tidus,” the taller pink-haired woman spoke, “in the official first announcement two weeks ago you said that you didn’t remember anything. I think you must remember something, maybe about the storm, almost drowning, how you survived? What you got up to all those months?”

“We are sticking to that first announcement,” Leo immediately declared. Tidus gaped at him. “He remembers the storm, then nothing. We think he was in a coma. That he survived at all is a miracle, and we ought to…”

“Well, exactly, it’s a miracle! If he was in a coma, how would he…”

“Next question. The lady standing next to the…”

“No, wait!” Tidus yelped.

Leo gave him an unspoken first warning, which Tidus ignored. “Uh, I mean, sure, there’s some holes in my memory, probably because of…” He suddenly felt like making a joke, and flashed a charming smile as he did, “Y’know, because of Sin’s toxin.”  

There was a short silence, the first of its kind. Some people gave a wary laugh, others exchanged knowing whispers. Alcohol-related questions started popping up. Leo shook his head at the young blitzer. Dr. Cidron shook his head at the questions, several of which were now addressed to him. Bern displayed a renewed interest in his client. What in the world was he trying to say?

Tidus closed his eyes, his hands clenching into fists.

The crystalline ocean. The sapphire sky. A whiff of incense. Prayers echoing. The floor dropping under his feet. And then… her.  

“Okay. Alright. I can’t keep this up, I can’t do this. You guys wanna hear my story? Well I’ll tell ya.”