#if you wanna get surgery that’s fine but please make sure it’s your decision and not anyone else’s

[lesbiansandco]

this is a Big Nose appreciation post. people with big noses of any shape or size, this is for you. you are beautiful or handsome just the way you are and anyone who says otherwise can get lost. nobody defines our beauty but us. no one pressures us to change our bodies, the choice is ours alone. but even then I hope you can find acceptance with your own body. I love you and your nose and you deserve all the world has to offer 💖 👃🏻👃🏼👃🏽👃🏾👃🏿

[imatechbummerliketomholland]

You are my world. you three are my world now - h.h

hello there! I'm back ! Sorry if it tooks so long, i have a lot of work during these holiday. I hope you like this little request. I didn't have time to be proofread (but a big thank you to@petersasteria who is always there to support me!). Remember that my native language is French, so don't be so mean if i made mistakes!

Feel free to like, share, comment and tell me what you think. Send me a message if you want to be added to the taglist for my next work!

Word count: 2300 Warning: angst, mention of pregnancy, small mention of blood, mention of placental abruption Pairing : harry holland Request: yes!

ღღღ

You didn't expect to be pregnant with twins at your age. The announcement of your pregnancy had also surprised more than one. Despite her support, Nikki Holland had still given the discourse on the importance of safe sex to her son. But Harry had given a more than mature speech in defense of both of you. He was able to prove to his family and to yours that you were ready and that the decision to continue the pregnancy was not rash.

You were now at the half of your eighth month and nothing could stand in the way of your happiness.

Nothing except maybe this.

Nikki had offered to have lunch with her this afternoon. Despite his work as a photographer, no longer having the company of his four children - since three of them left the family cocoon to live their own life as grown-up adults- weighed heavily on her. You accepted with pleasure. Harry, who was editing his third short film, had left you this morning to go to the edit suite, not without checking that you were okay. So, you joined Nikki at the restaurant. You shine in your long floral maternity dress. In the middle of the meal, you felt a violent contraction.

At almost eight months pregnant, it was no surprise that you could feel twins’ movements. You winced a little at the pain and your mother-in-law put a reassuring hand on your arm.

"Are you alright, darling?" she asking, a little bit worried.

"Yeah, yeah. They've just been in great shape for a few days now."

You apologized and went to the bathroom, struggling to cope with the pain of your contractions. When you noticed that your underwear was soaked with blood, your heart rate increased. You suddenly realized that a series of symptoms corresponded to what you had dreaded early in your pregnancy: the nausea that had occurred last night, the violent contractions since this morning and now the blood. Rather alerting signals that suggested a placental abruption. The obstetrician told you that this was a possible risk since you were having a twin pregnancy. You started to cry and panic for several minutes that Nikki ended up knocking on the bathroom door.

"Darling, is everything good in there?" she asked you with her sweet and worried voice.

"Could you come in please" you sobbed.

"Sure, darling. Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

She stepped carefully into the disabled cabin that you had used for space reasons. Nikki immediately noticed your state of stress. And you just told her everything in strangled sobs. She put a hand behind your back and gave you a very serious look.

"We have to go to the ER. We're going right away."

"I want Harry"

"Don't worry, I'll call him on the way"

And you haven't wasted a minute. Nikki simply left her phone number and table number at the counter before you got into your car. Dom will retrieve Nikki one's later. Holland family been known from the restaurant, the staff were comprehensive about your leaving without paid the bill. When you arrived at the hospital, the nurses greeted you directly and wasted no time either. You were taken to the operating room without being able to get your boyfriend's support.

☙♥❧

Harry arrived within fifteen minutes of receiving the call from his mother. No doubt he would receive a speeding penalty ticket later. He looked like a madman, mortified by worry. He was a bundle of nerves and sarcasm. Her mother was standing by the reception desk, waiting for her. She looked anxious. Tom was there too, trying to contact their father on his phone. When Dom finally picked up, the oldest Holland brother announced the urgency. Harry was shaking with worry.

"What happened mom?"

"I don't really know, baby. We were at the restaurant and the babies kicked. She went to the bathroom and when she didn't come back, I went after her. That's where she asked me to come into the bathroom and you know the rest. I called you straight after that. " Nikki explained, trying to get the stress out of her.

"Oh my god… where is she now?"

"The medical staff took her for surgery. I had to wait here. I couldn't go with her, baby. I’m so sorry."

"Ok ... Ok, I guess I have to wait here. Hope she's okay. God, please make her be alright."

They all made their way to the operating theater hallway for the public to wait for more information. Tom was still on the phone with his father, explaining that it would be better if he stayed at home with Paddy so as not to overcrowd the waiting room. He promised his father that they would all give news as soon as possible. A nurse in a surgical gown entered ten minutes later.

“Who's the father of miss y/l/n's babies?”

“I am. Harry Holland, I’m the father!” he almost screamed and cried at the same time.

“Come with me”

Nikki stood up cautiously and walked over to the nurse. Harry was ready to follow the nurse without giving any further information to his family.

"Excuse me. Can you give us more information on her condition?" Nikki asked

"Sure. We had an emergency caesarean. The babies are fine but there seem to be some complications with the mother. The surgeon is taking care of her."

"Is she going to be okay?" Harry asked hastily.

"She's losing a lot of blood but we're doing our best. Now please follow me." She said to curly one.

☙♥❧

Harry followed her to the nursery. His heart was pounding in mixed emotions. He was so impatient to meet his babies but at the same time he was worried about you. What if you don't survive from the complications? What was to become of him? Would he be able to live without you? Would he be a good father?

His last question vanished when he saw his two little babies in the incubator. Your twins had arrived about fifteen, almost a month earlier than expected, it was normal that they were in an incubator. Harry was going to have to make sure they put on weight. After filling out a few papers, one of the nurses offered to do some skin-to-skin contact with the twins so that they could get to know the three of them. Harry could not but be impatient with this and once prepared he settled into a seat. He was overcome with emotion, understanding how his parents had felt when Sam and him were born. He completely forgets the time, spending several minutes with his sons, one after the other. Harry knew he would place all his love in the two little beings he had taken turns holding in his arms. He was ready to lift mountains, cross the tides. Part of his mind was on you and he truly hoped he could go through life's trials with you. May your family experience all the times they deserve.

The nurse who had brought him to the nursery go up to him with a half-smile. She was sorry to disturb him during this privileged father-son moment.

"Your ... hm ... miss (y/l/n) is in the recovery room. You can go see her now"

Harry's heart burst with relief. He let out a sigh he didn't know he was holding back. The very new father nodded before placing his son in the nurse's arms so that she could put him back in the incubator. He decided to go find his family who had been waiting too long now. When he entered the waiting room, his mother and brother were still seated. Tom had his elbows on his knees, the phone in his hand. He seemed to be talking to someone. When the actor noticed his brother's presence, he spoke to him.

"Hey mate, Sam's here. Wanna talk to him? What's up? Does y/n's alright? And the twins?"

"Too much question. Give me Sam first!"

But the result was exactly the same. Sam asked the same questions as Tom and Harry winced as he tried to answer consensually.

"Hello to you too, brother. The twins are fine. I swear to God Sam, they look like a mini version of us. Two sons by the way ... y/n is fine, she's in the recovery room, I'm going see her right after that. I wanted to talk to mom and Tom first. "

"Glad to know I'm the last to know." Sam informed sarcastically.

"Hey, I was going to call you but I had to, you know ... go meet my sons. Father's job, it seems."

Sam chuckled behind his phone screen as Harry smirked in a mischievous and petty manner. He ended the call with his twin and turned to his mother and Tom. Nikki made her understand that she had heard, she seemed relieved that you were okay.

"Hey, before I go see y/n ... you want to see your grandsons ... and you, your nephew and godson, asshole."

"Harry, language" said Nikki.

"Of course I want to see my godson, stupid"

"Tom!"

The two brothers smile at each other. Just because one became a father and the other was a movie star, didn't mean they were going to change their ways. It was also their way, both of them, to decompress events. Nikki sighed in annoyance but kept quiet, too happy to meet, even only through a window, her first grandchildren. After a brief walk in front of the nursery, Harry announced that he was going to find you, leaving his family to admire your twins. They seemed so impatient to meet them in person but knew they were going to have to wait while you woke up.

☙♥❧

Harry entered the recovery room and walked over to your bed. You seemed to have already woken up from your artificial sleep. He grabbed your hand to give you the support you needed. A feeling of emptiness was felt in you, your gaze landed on your stomach, flatter than you had seen in recent months. Your eyes widened in panic but the reassuring pressure of Harry's hand drew your attention to him.

"They are fine, my love. They are fine. They are in an incubator in the nursery."

You burst into tears. The emotions being so strong.

"I'm so sorry Harry. I'm sorry ..."

“Hey… hey… you don't have to. You're okay… the twins are okay. And I still love you, I love you more than ever."

"Have you seen them?"

"Yes ... ugly like their father" he joked

You chuckled with a few more tears in your voice. You knew he didn't mean it, but humor was Harry's best way to decompress, and it worked on you too.

"My family is here. You scared the hell out of them. I think Sam was about to order a flight to kick your ass."

You chuckled again. It was so impressive to see the love that reigned in this family. You could never have asked for a better way to build your own family. Harry leaned over to kiss you.

"I love you, y/n. You are my world. you three are my world now"

"I love you more, Harry."

You stayed a few more days before you could get out of the hospital. You had decided to introduce the twins after their own discharge from the hospital. That's why, after almost a month of going back and forth to the nursery, you could finally bring your twins home. So you organized a little visit to Harry's parents.

☙♥❧

The sun was shining on London and you squeezed the doorknob of one of the maxi-cozy, Harry carrying your second son as you opened the door to the Holland family home. You were amazed at the ease with which Harry assumed his role as father. He was doing so well that you fell in love with him again.

"Is there anyone here?" He asked

"We're all in the garden, buddy!" Tom said

"You are obviously in the kitchen, dummy"

"For god's sake, Harry. Come into this fucking garden and let us see the twins!"

You let out a frank laugh as you mentally noted that you were going to have to have a conversation with Harry and his brothers about the vocabulary they were using.

You are therefore entering the garden. You noticed right away that Sam had come all the way from Scotland. Harry must have organized this with him too. You smiled, Nikki rushed over to help you with the change bags and you thanked him.

"So where is my godson?" Tom asked in the same way he did at the FFH premiere when he was looking for Jake Gyllenhal.

"Where's mine?" Sam asked too.

You approached Sam, putting the maxycosy on the table to unbuckle the seat belt and take your son in your arms. Harry was doing the same with your second baby.

"I'm happy to introduce you y/s/n"

"And there's y/s/n(2)." Harry added, so proud.

Everyone raved about the twins as you wipe away a tear, happy and proud. You were so moved by the love that reigned. Harry came to kiss you on the forehead, you closed your eyes, appeased by his gesture. The world could only turn better in his company.

"It's family portrait time!" Nikki said, her camera in her hands. "Tom, please get closer to your brother. Sam, stand next to y / n"

You all followed Nikki's instructions, who couldn't be more than happy to capture this important moment, bringing her work and family life together. You all smiled as you and Harry were in the center of the photo, carrying your twins in your arms. And at that moment, you were sure that your life could not be more beautiful than at this moment.

[bangtanloverboys]

the first cringe of morning // myg

summary - there were many things one would be nervous about when their new partner spends the night for the first time: was the room clean? is everything in order? did you shave? but you weren’t really nervous about those things, you were nervous as to how he would preceive your scars

pairing - boyfriend!yoongi x trans male!reader

genre - fluff, slight nsfw; newly established relationship au

word count - 1.7k

warnings - mentions of top surgery, reader is slightly insecure of his scars, anxiety, bisexual yoongi, bed sharing, cuddling, non-sexual body worship, kissing, very light non-sexual dom/sub undertones, kinda soft dom!min yoongi, min yoongi being an absolute sweetheart

author’s note - hhhhhh dream scenario honestly. . .happy pride month

Taking a deep breath, you pulled your shirt up, exposing your chest. You stared at your torso in the mirror, your eyes zeroing in on the two thin scars that decorated your chest. You’d gotten top surgery barely a year ago, the scars nearly faded away. You were happy with the results, you’ve never felt happier or more comfortable in your entire life even. You would never go back on the decision you made to get top surgery.

However, it didn’t stop you from being nervous. Why were you nervous? Your new boyfriend, Yoongi, was going to spend the night for the first time ever. You’ve been dating for a few months now and you honestly couldn’t have been happier. You told him you were a trans man a few weeks after you felt like you were possibly getting more serious; he nodded, thanking you for trusting him with the information. While you knew he would do nothing of the sort, your brain couldn’t help but think of terrible outcomes if/when he was to see your chest. 

What if he thought you looked deformed? What if he pointed out your nipples and how they looked weird? What if after what if after what if, plagued your mind. It was stupid and you knew that, but your anxiety continued to eat away at you.

The night so far had been pretty good; he arrived with a couple grocery bags of goodies, as you did ask him to pick up some things on his way over. The two of you had a nice dinner, watched a couple movies, and you were both getting ready to settle down for bed. It was established earlier that you weren’t planning on having sex at all that night, neither of you feeling quite ready for that yet. But you slept shirtless, meaning you had the options of either A. getting it over with and showing him or B. sleep with a shirt on and possibly overboil. Anxiety on the rise, you went with the latter option. 

A knock on the bathroom door startled you, causing you to drop your shirt. 

“I gotta brush my teeth. You decent?” Yoongi asked from the otherside of the door. 

With a light chuckle, you unlocked the door, pulling it open for him. “Come in.”

Walking in, his toothbrush in hand, he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Thank you. Can I use your toothpaste?”

“Yeah, it’s in the little basket by the sink.” You gestured to the counter behind you. “I’m gonna get the bed ready.”

“Hey,” he grabbed your wrist, stopping you from going any further. “You sure you don’t want me sleeping on the couch? Because I’m more than fine with that.”

“No, it’s okay.” You responded, hoping your voice sounded reassuring. Yoongi stared at you for a moment, possibly sensing your nervousness. He didn’t say anything, only nodding; trusting your words. After releasing your wrist, you made your way to your bedroom.

You had cleaned up everything earlier that day, looking nothing like the mess it was the past couple days. But you were satisfied with it, as long as there was no mess on the floor or dirty dishes anywhere, it was fine. With a sigh, you began taking off the decorative pillows you had on display on your full sized bed, neatly stacking them in a pile. As you continued to get the bed ready, your mind wandered, thinking about how you were going to sleep. Did Yoogni have any sleeping habits? Would he cuddle you while you slept? Would he mind the heat you tend to give off when you sleep? So many different random anxieties started to build up over the ones already there. 

“Are we not going to sleep with any pillows or something?” Yoongi’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. Immediately you realized you went a bit too far and even pulled off the actual pillows from the bed, stacking them alongside the decorative ones.

“Shit- I’m sorry, I got a bit carried away.” You gushed as you put the pillows back on the bed. 

“No worries.” You got a good look at him as he walked across the room, towards the bed. He was wearing a loose fitted T-shirt, a pair of grey sweatpants that were hanging low on his hips, and his hair was a mess from being tucked away in a beanie all day. “Do you sleep on any specific side of the bed or free range?”

“I sleep on the right side.” You said, pointing to the side you were closest to. 

“Alright,” he nodded as he made his way over to the left side of the bed. Pulling back the covers, he climbed into bed. You moved to follow him, but he stopped you. “You’re gonna sleep in your jeans?” 

You felt your cheeks grow hot in embarrassment. “Right uh. Hang on.” You muttered as you turned around. As you shuck your jeans off, you can feel Yoongi’s eyes on you, causing the heat in your cheeks to spread to the tips of your ears. Standing in only your boxers and a T-shirt, you deemed yourself ready for bed. When you turned around to face him, you spotted a smirk playing on his lips. Avoiding eye contact, you clambered into bed, shutting off your lamp in the process, leaving you both in the dark room. 

The mattress beneath you shifted as Yoongi adjusted himself to lay down and get comfortable. “C’mere.” He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. You freeze in his hold for a moment, thinking he’s going to possibly make a move, but instead you feel him nuzzle his face into your hair. You smiled as you felt his breathing tickle the skin of your neck. Relaxing into his touch, you allowed yourself to fall asleep in his arms. 

When you woke up to the sunlight bleeding through your blinds, you were genuinely surprised to have slept through the whole night. Usually you’d wake up randomly, but Yoongi was a good luck sleeping charm that now you had, you probably won’t ever let go. You shut your eyes again, wanting a bit more sleep before either of you have to get up.

Just as your mind was about to fall back into sleep, you felt the light touch of Yoongi’s lips drag across the skin of your neck. He peppered soft kisses over the exposed skin, gently tickling you. You giggled at the sensation, but didn’t pull away. In fact, you snuggled closer into him. As he sleepily kissed you, you felt the hand that was still wrapped tightly around your waist ever so slowly slip underneath your shirt. The skin to skin contact had you stiffen. Feeling your discomfort, Yoongi moved to whisper in your ear. 

“Are you okay with this?”

“I-” You struggled to get the words out. “My scars. I- I don’t-”

“Hey shh,” he murmured, kissing the shell of your ear before he readjusted himself on the bed, now hovering over you. “You can tell me, what about your scars?”

“I-I’ve. . . never really had a partner see my scars in a more. . . intimate setting. . .” You all but shrunk under his gaze, refusing to meet his eyes. 

“No, Y/N, look at me.” His hand went to your cheek, gently forcing you to look up at him. Meeting his dark eyes, you feel nothing but adoration pouring out from them, overwhelming you. “I care about all of you, scars and all. You are the most handsome creature I’ve had the privilege of knowing.” You felt tears prick at your eyes, threatening to spill. Your hand went up to cup his cheek, bringing him down to meet your lips. The kiss was nothing too special, it was slow and gentle, yet it didn’t stop your heart from racing. Yoongi’s other hand was sneaking back underneath your shirt as he pulled away. “Is it okay if I show you?”

With a gulp, you nodded.

“Use your words, baby.” 

“Yes.” You rasped out.

Once given the green light, he pressed a kiss to your lips, then your cheek, then your neck. He kissed down your clothed torso until he was over your hips, his hands slowly curling up the bottom of your shirt. His eyes never left yours as he exposed more and more skin, stopping just below your scars. Lowing his head to your stomach, he kissed you right below your belly button. Your eyes fluttered shut as he pecked all over your stomach; on occasion he’d catch you by surprise by blowing a raspberry, eliciting a laugh from you. 

He reached the edge of your shirt again, placing his hands on the fabric before moving it anymore. “Do you wanna take this off?”

“Yeah.”

It was a bit of a struggle but with Yoongi’s help, you got the T-shirt off. His eyes not once leaving you as he tossed the shirt to some corner of the room. The silence was thick as you watched him stare at you, saying nothing. Embarrassment burned in your cheeks as you moved to cover yourself, but his hands grabbed at your wrists, pinning them to your side.

“You’re absolutely stunning, Y/N.” He praised as he lowered himself to be over your ribcage. “Please don’t doubt that, I see nothing but the most beautiful man in front of me.” Yoongi muttered as he littered kisses along your scars, the sensation light from what little feeling you have left. His words left butterflies erupting in your stomach and your head reeling, trying to accept the compliments he gave you. You don’t think anyone has ever said that to you, hell, you don’t even think you’ve said that about yourself. But to have Yoongi tell you had you drunk. 

He’d nip at your skin, testing where you could feel, and when he felt you shutter against him, your boyfriend made sure to pay extra attention there. All while mumbling praises into your skin, assuring you that he thought nothing less of the world of you.

By the time his head came back up above yours, his lips were kiss swollen and you were breathless. Smiling down at you, he leaned down, kissing you one last time before pulling away. He laid his head down on your chest, snaking his arms around you to hold you tight. Your arms went to wrap around his shoulders, messing with his hair at the nape of his neck. There the two of you laid for the next few hours, as the sun rose higher in the sky, simply enjoying each other’s company.

[your-cryin-fool]

Married in Vegas

Pairing: Tom Petty x F! Reader

Request: I wish I had copied it down because unfortunately I do not remember it. But I would like to thank @run-down-that-dream​ for requesting it and for being so understanding that it took me until now to finish it

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: Mentions of Tom smashing his hand while making Southern Accents 

Rating: T

Notes:  If you enjoyed this please lemme know! Just a like would be fine, but if you can comment or reblog, or even shoot me an ask about it I’d be so grateful! As much as I am writing this because it makes me happy, I also like to know how it’s being received by all of you! Thank you for reading!!

Tags: If anyone would like to be tagged in my fics please let me know :)

Going on tour with Tom and the band wasn't anything new to you, you'd been with them on their previous tours, but this one seemed risky to say the least. It hadn't been long since Tom had recovered from shattering his hand, though you worried that going out on tour right away would mess something up, but when he assured you he would be okay, you believed him.

You sat next to him on the tour bus, he had his arm around you, your head was turned so you could look out the window and watch the dusty horizon, and he idly twirled strands of your hair.

"You okay?" He asked after a noticeable silence grew. "Seem awful quiet."

"Hm?" You turned to look at him, "Sorry I was zoning out a bit. I'm alright, though."

"Just makin' sure," he smiled then kissed your forehead.

"Be nice to get out of this bus though, I need to stretch my legs."

"Shouldn't be too much longer. You wanna take a walk when we get there?"

"Yeah I'd like that."

He moved his hand from off of your shoulder and held yours instead. You smiled and leaned against him, gently stroking his hand with your thumb. 

You eyed the thin pink line running down the back of his hand, and as you stared you remembered the circumstances that resulted in that scar. Mike calling you from the hospital telling you not to worry while Tom waited for an x-ray. And of course Tom telling you it wasn't a big deal when you burst into the waiting room looking for him. Then, what you remembered most of all and what you never wanted to see again, the pain in Tom's eyes. Not just pain from the injury, but pain from the doctor telling him that they could fix his hand but he may never play guitar again. Pain he hid behind a smart-ass comment. He didn't accept the possibility, you recalled him saying 'Fuck that' and you knew then that he was determined to prove the doctor wrong, and he did.  

"(Y/N)?" 

You snapped out of the memory, "Hm?"

"I was wondering if I could ask you something." Tom's voice was quiet, shy. Not a tone you were used to hearing when it wasn't just the two of you.

"What's up?" 

Just as he was about to speak, the bus stopped. 

He fumbled, almost as if he was counting on the engine to muffle whatever he was going to say.

"Well it's just--"

"C'mon lovebirds, we're here!" Mike beckoned the two of you as the band headed toward the exit.

"Guess I'll ask you later." He sighed, but a smile stayed plastered on his face as he got up from his seat, and helped you up after.

You stumbled slightly as your legs woke up, but Tom just held you tighter to stop you from losing your balance. You smiled at him, then headed toward the exit. When you stepped out you immediately felt the contrast between the nice cool bus to the dry desert heat, but it was only temporary as you headed into the hotel shortly after. 

Once you'd checked in, everyone went up to their rooms to rest from the drive. Your mind was preoccupied on what Tom could have possibly wanted to talk to you about on the bus, to a point where you didn't even notice him leave the room. 

Was it something bad? Had you done something? No, Tom would have told you then and there if there was something wrong between the two of you. Neither of you really believed in going anywhere angry, so if you'd fight, you'd always be quick to make up. And there was a lot of fighting when he was in recovery. 

His frustration with not being able to play anything or do anything, and your inability to help him. To say your tempers and stubbornness would clash was somewhat of an understatement. You knew neither of you meant anything you said, but you still said it, and you both would always apologize as soon as you realized you had said something that hurt the other. 

In all the years you had been with Tom, that was probably your most difficult time as a couple, but through patience and understanding, and beyond all things, love, you got past it.

"Hey, you ready?" Tom asked you after he had come back in, once again snapping you out of your thoughts.

You nodded and took his outstretched hand, then once again headed out into the arid city air.

The two of you walked hand-in-hand along the strip, pointing out the fun looking buildings and funny signs and taking pictures in front of them. 

It wasn't very often that he could go out while he was on tour, but one good thing about Las Vegas was that everyone there was too preoccupied with sight-seeing to pay attention to who was standing in front of them. It was a nice break. 

"So," you began, "What were you going to say on the bus?" 

He rubbed the back of his neck, "Oh right, well I…" 

You couldn't help but think that he seemed nervous.

"It's just that you mean the world to me, you know that?"

You laughed, "I had a hunch."

After a pause, you continued. "Was that what you wanted to say earlier?"

He shrugged, "It's part of it."

"You gonna tell the rest?"

He laughed, "I might." 

The two of you continued walking, and eventually he spoke again.

"What would you say Vegas is pretty known for?"

You looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "I don't know, casinos?"

"Yeah, but anything else?"

"Strip clubs, tourism, cocaine... wedding chapels."

"Right..."

He stopped suddenly and you looked at him. "Is this still about what you were gonna tell me on the bus?"

"Sort of." He pointed up at the sign on the building you stopped in front of.

You looked up to read it, then looked back at him.

"Wait are you-?"

"Do you want to?" 

You grabbed his face and kissed his lips. "Let's go." 

The two of you walked in and were greeted, not only by someone dressed as Elvis at the end of the aisle, but the rest of the band waiting for you.

"Are you kidding me?" You asked him, "You set this up?" 

"Well, I figured we might as well." He grinned.

"And if I said no?"

"Then I'd be pretty embarrassed I guess. Good thing you didn't."

You stood hand in hand at the altar, listening as Elvis spoke to you about what you were agreeing to, and then Tom asked to say a few words. 

"(Y/N), you helped me through one of the hardest times in my life. Having to go through surgery and relearning to play, I don’t know if I'd have ever been able to do that on my own. I know I probably wasn't much fun to be around, but you stayed by my side the whole time. Without you, who knows what I would have done, maybe I'd have done what the doctors said and stopped playing. But you believed in me, you've always believed in me. And I wanna return the favour, I promise to be there for you when you need someone by your side," he chuckled quietly, "And even when you say you don't. I know you're strong, but you don't have to do everything alone. I'll always be in your corner, I'll always believe in you, and most of all, I'll always love you."

You were fighting back tears, you thought this was a spur of the moment decision, something brought up just because you were going to be here, but he was speaking like he had it written down long in advance. As you dabbed at your eyes with a tissue, he pulled out a small box from his pocket, opening it to reveal a ring you recognized.

"Wasn't that your mom's ring?"

"She loved you, she would've wanted you to have it." He smiled.

The tears you were fighting back almost came out right then and there. You knew how much his mother meant to him, and you knew how heartbroken he was when she had passed away. So for him to give you a ring with such importance to him meant everything to you.

"But how... Did you plan all of this?"

"The guy dressed as Elvis is a surprise." He shrugged then slid the ring on your finger. 

Soon, the two of you said your 'I Do's' and Elvis declared you married. 

You kissed Tom and the guys cheered from the audience, and without really having a plan to do so, you'd just married the love of your life. 

––– 

That evening, you laid in the bed with Tom, tangled up in a cuddle.

"So, we're married," Tom said, a smile growing on his face.

"Apparently." You wiggled your ring finger and smiled.

"Can I talk about it at the show?"

"What, like, tell the whole world now?"

"Not the whole world, just a couple thousand people."

"And the press."

He frowned, "So that's a no?"

"It's a 'not yet', you know my parents, they'd kill me, well they'd kill you, if they found out we got married in Vegas."

"Yeah, I didn't really think of that. My folks would've probably been a little pissed too." He shrugged and his smile returned. "You know what that means, right?"

"What?"

"Means that we have to get married again, just not in Vegas. I'd rather not be killed because I couldn't wait."

"Well, if it spares your life, I guess I can agree to that." 

He pulled you close to him, "I'm glad that I'll get to call you my wife, even if no one knows."

"Well, the two of us know, and the boys."

"And Elvis!"

You yawned. "Right, can't forget Elvis." 

He kissed your forehead, and smiled at you, "Goodnight, Mrs. Petty." 

Just as you were about to drift off to sleep, he spoke up again.

"Can I tell the crowd I proposed?"

You laughed sleepily, "Sure." 

[craziest-in-the-guild]

Resolute

Chapter 2 of the Long Night series

Content Warnings: 18+ for some adult themes (still not to the smut, but were headed there) Nightmares/post traumatic stress

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Although this is reader x rex, I couldn't help but make reader a red head. Hope that's ok. Is it dyed? Natural? You decide!

I said goodbye to Kix and handed over his care to my coworker. His ankle was broken in two places, and while it wasn’t bad enough for surgery, it would be soaking in bacta for several hours. I had given him some pain meds and told him to enjoy his rest.

I hated to leave him, but I needed to go home and get ready to ship out in the morning. I needed rest myself, but I knew there was no way I was going to sleep. How could I sleep? I was never meant to be on the battlefield.

_____________________________

Rex headed back to the barracks to tell his men about Kix and their new medic. Kix had assured him that he thought she would be able to handle the stress of a war zone. He hoped for her sake that he had made the right decision.

“Where’s Kix?” Jesse asked as soon as Rex came through the door.

“Kix broke his kriffing ankle and won’t be shipping out with us.”

“Who’s going to be our medic?” Fives asked, “Surely not one of those kriffing med droids!”

“I found a replacement. You know the medic from medbay that patches you all up when you are too drunk from 79’s or hurt from a fight? She is coming with us.”

“HER?” They all asked, surprised.

“Yes, her,” a weary Rex responded. “Kix said he wanted her to be his replacement, and I want you all to make her feel welcome. Afterall, she may save your hide out there.”

______________________

Maker, I had just closed my eyes when my alarm started blaring. The room was cold and my covers were nice and toasty, killing any will I might have had to get up. Why is a bed the most comfortable right when you have to leave?

I grumbled, threw back the covers, and headed to the fresher. I indulged myself, heating the water until it was steaming. I didn’t know how the showers were aboard light cruisers, but I was betting they weren’t this good. My self indulgence couldn’t last too long, or else I’d be running late. Begrudgingly, I turned the water off.

I heard a knock at my apartment door and wondered who it could be at this early hour. I slid on my robe and went to investigate.

“Captain, what are you doing here so early? Am I late?” I crossed my arms to ensure my robe stayed closed, feeling slightly awkward in front of the captain. It didn’t help that he was so handsome. I could feel my cheeks flushing.

“No, I just wanted to come get you so we could go to the quartermaster’s and make sure you have everything you need.”

He handed me a pair of blacks to put on. I was a little confused as blacks were what the troopers wore under their armor.

“Oh, ok, um, do you want to come in while I finish getting dressed?”

The captain seemed surprised that I invited him in. We both stood still in the awkward silence for a moment, both presumably exhausted and not firing on all cylinders. I could see the dark circles under his eyes that indicated he hadn’t slept either. I wondered if he ever really slept.

“I have fresh caf brewing,” I offered.

Fresh caf was enough to lure him in. I brought him a steaming hot cup and then headed to the fresher to get dressed.

“We’re going to outfit you with clone armor for this mission, that’s part of why I’m here early. I wanted to have enough time to get you fitted and dressed. We aren’t used to fitting armor to a woman” Rex said.

“I’d say not. Do you think there will be enough room in the chest?” I quipped. With that, I heard Captain Rex choke on his caf and go into a coughing fit.

“Sorry!” I yelled from the fresher. I could only imagine the look I was getting.

I came out of the fresher to find the Captain as composed as ever. You would have never known that he nearly suffered death by witty comment and hot caf five minutes earlier.

Captain Rex stood and moved to the door, “Ready?”

I grabbed my bag, stepped into the hallway, and paused to look at my small apartment, wondering if I’d ever see it again.

_______________________________________________

We arrived at the quartermaster’s to find a shiny new set of armor sitting on the counter. I immediately grabbed the helmet to try it on, only to find it to be too big. As I turned my head, it shifted from side to side. I couldn’t help but giggle a little, feeling like a child stealing their dad’s helmet. The captain cracked a smile.

“I think you need some extra padding,” he said as he took the helmet off my head. He added a few more pads to help tailor the fit. There hadn’t been time to get me a custom helmet.

“Oh, that’s much better”

“Are you ready to quit playing and try the rest on?” Rex asked with a small smile.

“Go ahead and put on the bottom half, then I’ll help you with the top half”.

The boots fit much better than the helmet. The codpiece was a little awkward, but I figured I’d get used to it, or at least use it to make obscene jokes.

“Here, let me help you with the back plate and breast plate, they’re a bit difficult until you get used to them.”

He snapped on the abdominal plate and then the breast and back plates. He stood behind me, adjusting everything. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, and it was sending small shivers down my spine. The Captain was quiet and I yearned to break the silence, but didn’t know what to say.

“Captain-“

“Please call me Rex.” It was nearly a whisper. This sent even more shivers down my spine. Did he know what he was doing to me?

The moment- was it a “moment”?- was shattered.

“Hey! Red on the head, fire in the bed!” Fives hollered from across the room.

I laughed and rolled my eyes back as far as they would go.

He had called me that one night in med bay when he had been brought in, half passed out from a night at 79’s. One look at my red hair, and he’d uttered the phrase that had basically become my nickname. He said it to me every time I saw him in med bay, which was often.

“Fives! How are you? It’s been more than a couple weeks since I’ve seen your drunk carcass in med bay,” I jeered.

“Captain’s been keeping us out in the field a lot lately, he doesn’t believe in fun,” he said with a goofy grin on his face. Rex punched him in the shoulder.

Rex finished adjusting the breast plate and attaching my pauldrons. The left pauldron bore the red and white mark of a clone medic.

Fives had disappeared into the storage room and came back with a medic bag. He blew the dust off of it and handed it to me.

“Here, put this and your helmet on. Let’s see the whole thing,” he said.

I put them on and looked out of the helmet to see Rex and Fives beaming.

“You look great, doc,” Fives said.

“Fives, report to the launch bay, we’ll be along shortly,” Rex ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

Fives gave me a salute and a wink as he walked off. I gave him an audible huff and eye roll he couldn’t see through my helmet.

Rex chuckled.

“You’re going to fit in well here, you know.”

—————————

The hangar was a sight to behold with all of the clones in formation.

Rex gave a short motivational speech and ordered everyone into the transports.

“You stay with me, Fives, Jesse, Tup, Echo, Dogma, or Hardcase, and you’ll be fine,” Rex instructed.

I nodded and put my helmet on. I loaded into the crowded transport with them and we headed for the Jedi cruiser Resolute.

Coruscant faded away as we climbed higher.

________________________

The Resolute was bigger than I could have imagined. I had seen holo images of cruisers, but it doesn’t compare to seeing one for real. There were so many ships in the hangars. I walked past an AT-TE and stopped to marvel at the size.

“Wanna see the inside?” Hardcase asked.

“Hell yes I do!”

Hardcase beamed at my enthusiasm. His first loves were weapons and heavy equipment.

“This pretty girl can climb just about anything she encounters. She’s even got magnetized feet so she can climb metal,” he explained as I looked around the cockpit at all the buttons.

“She can even withstand being in space for a bit, since she can be pressurized. Sometime you’ll have to ask Rex about that adventure. Here, I’ll give you a boost up into the gunner’s seat.”

The gunner sat exposed, but I could easily see how it would be fun to mow down droids with the cannon. I looked down to see Rex looking up at us.

“Hardcase, it’s time to get everything ready for tomorrow, there’s lots to be done. Our medic there needs to get to her briefing, too,” he instructed.

“Thanks, Hardcase, this was fun, can you show me more another time?”

“Yep, anytime. It’s always my pleasure to show off my toys,” he had a cheesy grin stretching from ear to ear.

I hopped down and followed Rex to my first briefing.

________________________

Dinner followed the briefing. The boys were rowdy and there was a sense of excitement buzzing in the air. I ate my meal in near silence, being plenty entertained by the crass and ridiculous things the men of the 501st were discussing. It was clear that it helped keep their minds off of the coming battle.

It was late when I retired to my quarters, hoping to get a few hours of rest.

______________

Geonosis was barren, except for various rock formations. The night was eerily dark and Rex was alone. He walked the desert landscape, looking for any signs of life. He tried his comm again, only to be answered with broken static.

The Captain finally saw something in the distance, although he could not make it out. As he approached the shapes, Rex found Fives, Jesse, and her, laying on the ground. He removed their helmets, only to see dark voids where their eyes had been. Blood started pouring out of the chasms. Their lifeless bodies suddenly sat up, repeating “It’s your fault we’re dead.”

Rex’s eyes shot open and he awoke to find he was still in his bunk. He was covered in sweat and his heart was nearly beating out of his chest.

It was just a nightmare.

The nightmares never stopped.

Being a soldier was hard, but being a leader was harder. He never stopped wondering if he made the wrong decisions. He never stopped worrying about his vod. So many had died, and he still carried each one with him.

He decided to go to the mess hall for some caf. Might as well since he couldn’t sleep anyway. Rex walked past his men to the door. He was relieved to see Fives, Jesse, Tup, Echo, Hardcase, and Dogma, all asleep, snoring, in their bunks. He looked around and wondered which men he would lose tomorrow. A tear escaped and he let it fall, knowing that no one would see. He wiped the tears away and continued towards the mess.

The door slid open. The mess was empty except for her. She had her head down on a table, red hair splayed over her arms. He wondered how long she’d been here. Rex walked to her, gently calling her name. She didn’t even flinch. A cup of caf was beside her, ice cold, indicating she had been there for some time.

Rex laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Wake up, cyar'ika, you’ll be much more comfortable in your bed.”

She drowsily raised her head and brushed her hair back.

“Rex?” she asked as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

“Yeah, it’s me. C’mon, I’ll walk you back to your quarters.”

She stood up and stretched. There were lines across her face from where it had rested on her arm. Rex couldn’t help but smile.

They walked back to her quarters, making small talk along the way.

“I’m nervous, that’s why I couldn’t sleep,” she said spontaneously.

“I would expect you to be nervous,” he assured, “I won’t sugar coat it and say that it will be easy. It will likely be a bloodbath. But, we’ll be there to help you. We will get through this together.”

They stopped in front of her door and she turned to Rex, laying a hand on his arm.

“Thank you, Rex,” she said and then disappeared into her room.

He stood at the closed door for a minute, her touch still lingering.

“Sleep well, mesh’la.”

_________________________________________

I woke up early so I could check my medic bag and have a cup of caf before deploying.

The mess hall wasn’t busy, but there were a few clones up and about. I grabbed my caf and scanned the room. Jesse saw me and waved me to a table with him, Dogma, Echo, and Tup.

“ ‘Mornin, boys.”

“ ‘’Mornin, Doc,” they replied in near unison. It wasn’t uncommon for soldiers to call their medics “doc”. Field medics did it all.

“Where’s Fives and Hardcase?” I inquired.

“Those two will sleep til the last second,” Dogma said as he rolled his eyes. I’d been told Dogma was a stickler for rules. I expected he was early for everything.

I sat down next to Jesse, started sipping my caf, and inventorying my bag.

Bacta? Check.

IV supplies? Check.

Normal saline? Check.

Lasted ringers? Check.

Bandages? Check.

Tourniquets? Check.

The bag didn’t hold much, but it was enough to get the men back to the field hospital. I sat the bag on the floor and joined the conversation.

“You ready, Doc?” Tup asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess. You boys just try to keep from getting blown to bits and I’ll be fine,” I jeered. They laughed in agreement.

“Seriously? I’m scared shitless, but I know you guys have my back and that makes it better,” I admitted.

“It’s ok, I think everyone but Hardcase was scared on their first mission,” Jesse said.

I’d met Hardcase a few times in med bay. He never backed down from a fight, in fact, he usually went looking for it.

Our comms lit up and a voice announced that we needed to report to our gunships. We cleared the table and headed down to the hangar. As we entered the elevator, Fives and .

Hardcase came running down the hall,

“Hold the door, wait for us!” Fives shouted.

I held the door for them. Both were still finishing putting on their armor. I smiled and shook my head.

“Whhhaaattt?” Fives asked with a smile. “Better late than never, right?”captain

[dirty-urie]

McBrendon

Second Person

Brendon x Female Reader

Unspecified Era

Smut Oneshot

NC-17

3.2k Words

Warnings in order of appearance: RPF, language throughout, not pre-discussed roleplay scene, medical roleplay and language, sex

Author's Notes:

So, basically, I was re-watching Grey's Anatomy, and I was like, "What if Brendon was here?" and then this was born. I have no idea if someone who's never watched Grey's Anatomy would understand or appreciate this, but basically what I think you need to know is that Derek Shepherd and Mark Sloan are sexy manwhores (in the earier seasons), and a common recurring joke in the earlier seasons of the show is putting "Mc" in front of adjectives to describe love interests. The fic is supposed to be more silly than sexy, but maybe it's sexy too, I don't really know.

"Wait, what about those two?" He asks, and you sigh exasperatedly.

"Brendon, just assume that all of the doctors on the Doctor Sex Show have slept together. That's the whole point."

He groans and slumps back in his chair, "Remind me why we have to watch this overdramatic doctor smut in the theater? The theater should be a sacred space for Disney movies or action movies with boobies and explosions, not 'ohhhh does McCreamy only like Natalie because she hooked up with Appendectomy?.'"

"It's my week on laundry duty, and whoever's folding laundry gets to watch whatever they want wherever they want. That's the rules, but you can go watch something in the living room or on your computer or on your phone if you don't like it," you offer, trying to get rid of him. You love Brendon, you love him so much, but sometimes you need to sit in the dark and fold laundry with no other noises except your soapy little doctor show.

"Fine. The men of the house are going to go watch something manly, don't bother us. Come on, Bogart!"

Brendon's little Jack Russell turns to look at you as if asking to stay, but you pat his back and send him off to go snuggle with his dad. You don't think you could handle Brendon's betrayed gasps if you let Bogart finish the episode with you. You and Penny will be fine ogling at Patrick Dempsey while file-folding Brendon's 68 pairs of gray and black sweatpants alone. Brendon kisses your cheek before he leaves. "Have fun with the boobs and explosions, babe," you tell him on his way out of the room.

"Oh, you know I will!"

•••

Two weeks later, it's your turn to fold laundry again, and you're back to watching Grey's, this time in the living room. The dogs are sitting next to you, eyes glued to the screen. Brendon's also in the room, bitching about "introducing this drivel into our home," but you're ignoring him because you don't need that kind of negativity in your life.

He finally quiets down, and you appreciate the five minutes of peace. Until… "Are you unsatisfied with our sex life?" He asks out of the blue.

You're taken completely aback for a second before you scramble to pause the tv. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, what? Where did this come from?" you ask him. What the fuck? Is he unsatisfied with your sex life?

"Well, we haven't had sex in weeks practically." Three days actually. It's been three days, but you don't interrupt him. "And you keep watching this sexy doctor show, so I don't know, maybe you're feeling like a bored housewife," Brendon explains.

You laugh at him, and he looks offended. "You're overthinking it, baby boy. It's just a show! Sure, the sexual tension between the entire hospital and Mark Sloan is spicy and exciting, but I'm not trying to compensate for anything lacking in my life. If anything, all that spice just translates into better sex for both of us. Okay?"

He looks very skeptical. "Hm, sure. I totally believe you."

You don't necessarily think you properly got your point across to him, but Meredith just made another bad decision, and you need to see how it pans out. "Okay, great, now go watch a manly show with Bogs in our room if you're going to keep whining."

Brendon does not, in fact, go into your room to watch a manly show on his laptop. Instead, he and Bogart start watching season 1 of Grey's Anatomy, immediately getting highly invested in the lives of the ambitious-yet-messy surgical interns. He's trying to figure out what exactly appeals to you about the show.

•••

It's his turn to fold the clothes, and he's doing it wrong, but you're resisting the urge to do it for him because you're a feminist, damnit. He's still letting you watch Grey's Anatomy because he's a doll (and you don't know this, but he's also become a bit of a fan.)

"Do you think I'm more a Mark Sloan or a Derek Shepherd?" He asks.

You scoff, "You're a George."

"I am not! I'm way sexier than George!"

"You're just jealous because I'm an Addison."

"Pshh, you're a Bailey. You wanna know how I know?" He asks.

"Fine. Tell me." You give in.

"You desperately want to correct my laundry technique."

•••

"Meet me in the on-call room in five," Brendon whispers against the back of your neck while you're drying the dishes from dinner. What is this man doing? "Meet you where?" You ask, but he's already walked away. You're not sure whether to actually wait the five minutes or just try to go find him.

You give him three minutes before going to the bedroom. You honestly don't know what you were expecting, but it wasn't Brendon laying on his side in the middle of your bed, shirtless under a white coat. He has on a pair of navy blue scrub pants that aren't particularly flattering, but they still look nice on him.

"Explain to me what's happening here, homie," you tell him.

"I'm being sexy for you! So sexy! I'm Dr. Brendon "McKinky" Urie, I'm a general surgery attending, but my real specialty is pleasure."

You visibly cringe for him. "You're a McDoofus, and your real specialty is probably malpractice."

He pouts. "Play along. Come on. Please? Be Dr. Y/N Sexy."

You roll your eyes. "Why do you get your real last name, but I'm Dr. Sexy?"

"Because we're not married in this fantasy! We're both cheating on our spouses but not in a tragic way, in a sexy way! Come on! Let yourself have fun," he pleads.

You feel yourself start to cave. "Fine, I'll play along, but I'm stopping this the minute I feel weird, okay?"

"Of course. And, babe, if you don't want to do this, you absolutely do not have to," he says, serious now.

"No, no, Brendon. I'm down for this. I think you're a total goof for doing it, but I trust you."

He brightens, "Great! Now it's time for your examination." He waggles his eyebrows, climbing off the bed and gesturing for you to take his place.

"Exam? Am I a patient? Why am I in the on-call room if I'm a patient?" You ask.

"Doctors need exams too, y'know. We're both doctors, but I don't know, you need a routine exam for like moles or something. Take your clothes off." He says, and you take a split-second to be grateful that Brendon got discovered for his musical talents and will therefore never be an actual doctor.

You stifle back your laughter and strip down to your underwear, lying on your back on top of the white sheet he put over the comforter to protect the bed from any potential messes. He stands over you next to the bed, and you're happy that you at least get to stare at his body during this little experiment. The whole "doctor" thing may not be driving you wild on its own, but your half-naked husband always will.

"Thank you for coming to this appointment, Dr. Y/N Sexy," he says. Don't laugh, don't laugh, don't laugh, you chant in your head. "First," he says, making his voice husky, "I need to test your reflexes." Something tells you he won't be using one of those little hammers. He bends down and breathes against your neck. You shiver, and goosebumps appear on your arms. You're glad you wore your front clasp bra when he unclips it and has immediate access to your breasts. He circles around your nipple with his finger, and they harden quickly. "Mmm, good reflexes indeed. Very responsive," he purrs. "I don't think your test results are conclusive yet. You should keep going," you encourage. He rubs your scalp, and your head rolls back. You're worried that you'll start drooling.

Brendon smirks at you a little, and his smugness is slightly infuriating. Yes, you like him touching you, but that hardly proves that his weird roleplaying was a good idea. "Just like I observed, fantastic reflexes. But I now must move on to the chest exam." He rests his head on your chest, and you're beginning to suspect that this whole thing was just a ploy to touch your boobs a lot. "Is your heart rate always this fast or just when your hot coworker is touching you?"

"Normally only my husband, also named Brendon… for some reason, can get me so worked up, but now I'm thinking of leaving him for you, McCrinkly."

"It's McKinky, and your husband sounds gorgeous and super smart. You should keep him around," he says, climbing onto you and groping your breasts. "In my professional opinion, these are nice tits."

You have to bite your lip to resist the urge to laugh again. You wouldn't quite say you're aroused, but you are having fun at least. "Okay, okay, doc. Enough of the preliminary exam; I need five and a half inches, stat."

"You couldn't round up to six while we're playing!?"

"Oh, come on, you're lucky I rounded up to five and a half!"

"Rude! So rude!"

You kiss him to shut him up. "Sorry, baby, I won't bully you anymore. Now, how about a cervical exam?" You suggest, craving his thickness inside you.

That cheers him up. Brendon resumes his doctor roleplay. "First, let me complete the dermatological examination. If you could remove your undergarments, please."

You throw your bra on the floor and take off your underwear.

He admires the small amount of newly-exposed skin. "So many marks on your breasts and pubic region. Did your hot husband leave these too, or should I investigate for a skin condition?" He asks, ducking between your thighs to add some more.

"Yeah, he left them there. My sexy husband is kind of the best, but enough about him," you say.

New dark spots pop up after he finally moves his mouth from the sensitive skin of your thighs. "Oops, I think I just burst a couple of capillaries."

Well, someone did some light googling. "Do you think I'll make it?" You ask, faking drama.

"Yes, but you'll need someone to pay lots of attention to the area between your thighs."

He never mastered the art of subtly, did he? "I don't think that will be an issue. My husband will be thrilled."

"Great, that's taken care of. Shall we commence with the cervical exam then?" He asks, rolling off you to tug off his scrubs and underwear. He keeps his dumb coat on, which is more goofy than sexy without clothes underneath, but you don't tell him that. "And we can test your motor skills at the same time. Hands and knees, please."

You obey, and he moves behind you to enter you. He pushes into you quickly and hard, just like you like it. "God, there's so much blood in my, hm, um corpus cavernosum… I think," he says.

"Your what? Are you trying to cast a Harry Potter spell? because that's a whole different roleplay," You crane your neck back to see him, and your eyes widen. "Brendon, are you," you need to pause to choke back your laughter, "are you reading from a flashcard? While inside me?"

He's on his knees behind you, squinting at a white notecard. He flips the card over and reads from it, "the corpus cavernosum is, um, the main erectile tissue in the genitals. So, uh, I was trying to say that I'm hard for you."

That's it, you can't contain your laughter. You can't even bear to look at Brendon without cracking up. Tears are streaming down your face. He hisses, and you think it's because you've upset him, but you turn back to look at him, and he's biting his lip, his head tilted back.

"Are you good, B?" You ask, a little worried.

He's breathing hard. "Yeah, just your laughing caused contractions around my cock, and I was not prepared. Felt good, just unexpected." He pulls almost all the way out and then jerks back in, not quite slamming but gearing up to it.

"Faster, please. Careful still, but faster," you request.

He speeds up perfectly, finally filling you up and relieving the ache inside you. You relish each time his hips meet your body, feeling close to him, even if the position isn't as intimate as he usually likes. You suppose successful Dr. Kinky, notorious womanizer, wouldn't necessarily want to make loving, passionate eye contact with all of his conquests.

"So, Dr. Kinky-"

"No, it's doctor Urie, McKinky."

Jesus, you need a script. "So, Dr. Urie, do you have enough energy after all those lobotomies or whatever to rub a girl's clit? I bet my husband, the other Brendon, would touch me."

"Well, I would never even bother to compete with such a stellar man, but I can still try to get you off." His hands move between your thighs to touch your cunt. "Oh no, so much excess fluid here. I hope nothing's wrong." He puts a finger on your throbbing clit and feigns a sigh of relief, "Good, I've found a pulse." His touch is feather-light as he slowly strokes you. The contrast between his fast, hard thrusts and delicate strokes somehow enhances both of his actions.

"Oh, that's nice," you moan.

"You mind if I have you roll over? I still have to test your flexibility, and I'd love to do that with your legs on my shoulders."

"Fuck yeah."

He pulls out, and you get on your back; he gets you ready by situating the pillows underneath you. You rest a leg on either shoulder, and he thrusts in again. You don't want to admit it to him, but you feel like you'll need to come soon. The spikes of pleasure pulsing between your legs have been getting stronger and closer together, and now that you can see what you do to him, rather than just hearing his occasional grunts, you feel even closer to crossing that finish line.

"I'm observing some rapid contractions, Sexy. Should I note in your chart how close you are to coming all over me? Because it seems to me that you're failing your stamina and endurance evaluation," Dr. Urie teases.

You close your eyes to try to eliminate a source of the arousal, but you still feel painfully close to the edge.

Brendon inadvertently shifts a bit, and that does it. Your arousal peaks intensely, and you try to restrain your reactions on the off chance he doesn't notice. However, you're pretty sure he does notice your orgasm when his movements slow to a stop, and that's confirmed when he outright says it. "You just came," he states. It's not a question.

You nod, not bothering to deny it.

He pulls out, and you finally get to see his still-hard cock soaked with your wetness. "Well I suppose, we can run… further tests to reach a full diagnosis," he practically croons, pulling his scrub pants back on, and a wave of lust spreads from your stomach. Fine, the doctor thing is a little hot. "It's up to you though, I defer to your professional opinion."

"I think my exam is complete, actually, but I know you've been complaining of some pain in this region," you give his crotch a quick squeeze. "Do you mind stripping so I can investigate?"

He immediately takes off his coat, obviously excited, and gives it to you, so you put it on. "So, can you describe the pain?" You ask, putting a hand on his thigh.

"Kind of an ache, I guess?"

You squeeze his thigh, "And you'd say the pain is mainly here?"

"No, uh, um, to the right."

You squeeze his other thigh, "Oh, I see, right here?"

"No, not, um, my thigh."

"Sorry, I understand." You lay your hand flat on his stomach, still carefully avoiding his cock. "Your stomach must be hurting."

"Still not quite."

You clench your jaw in fake frustration. "Well, could you just show me where you need my attention, Doctor Urie?"

He shoves down his pants and grasps his leaking cock, groaning in relief when he starts to tentatively touch himself.

"Yes, very good, thank you. Would you say the ache subsides with stimulation?" You ask professionally.

Brendon nods and smirks a bit, "Yeah, you could say that."

"Well, I think you just need to achieve ejaculation," you diagnose.

"Is that, ah, covered under my insurance?" He asks cheekily, still jerking himself.

You laugh, going to dig the lubricant out, "Okay," you nudge his hand away, "leave this to the professionals." You pour the clear lube into your hand. "This may be a bit cold," you warn. He doesn't really need the lube, he's both leaking profusely and still slick from being inside you, but you want to keep up the "doctor vibes." You grasp him firmly and stroke quickly, trying to get him off as soon as you can. You kind of want to use your mouth, but you can't think of a good reason to within the roleplay. That's mostly fine, though, because you can tell he's about to come.

He comes all over your hand without warning a minute or so later. He shudders and groans, spurting twice more. You didn’t realize how worked up he was. Of course, you saw how hard he was, but to come this much from just jerking him off means he was really turned on. "Outstanding sperm production, sir," you say, crudely wiping him up with a tissue.

"Okay, no more doctor talk. My brain is too mushy," he groans.

You take off the coat and get into bed, cuddling against him. "If your brain is mushy, you probably should see a doctor."

He giggles. "So, would you do this again?"

You think for a second. "Well, I'd roleplay with you again, but you have to warn me next time. And probably not the doctor thing again. It was hot playing with you, but thinking about actual medical procedures is not my thing."

He yawns, "Noted about the warning you next time, and that's too bad. I was really looking forward to the oral exam. How big is your mouth? How's your swallow technique?" He says, half-jokingly.

"Hey, don't push it, or we're doing a prostate exam, and due to budget cuts to the hospital, we're going to be low on lubricant."

He cringes, "Point taken. I don't need a doctor roleplay; the next time I want a blowjob, I'll just ask."

You get out of bed and put on your pajamas. "Well, if it's in the next 45 minutes, your request is getting denied because Penny Lane, Bogart, and I are watching the real Grey's Anatomy in the theater while you're still too weak to complain about it. And this is a good time to tell you that my character is not actually a medical doctor. I have a PHD in film studies. I’m a fraud.”

His mouth drops open, "You're telling me that wasn't an official medical handjob?!"

"I trust that you'll get over this. Love you, babe."

He scowls but still mutters a quiet, “I love you too.”

[wortverlust]

SNLRGPNEQGIRPN I HOPE SPENCER IS OKAY!!!!!!

poor boy, i understand his fears :( i had to make a friend hold my hand whilst getting my vaccine, which was both humiliating yet needed. FUCKING NEEDLES. my trainer laugher at me when i had to walk away from moj and the massive fuck-off needle they were about to stab him with. my trainer and the stable-hand whO JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE REALLY CUTE AND FUCKING SAW ME ALMOST FAINT GODDAMNIT–

aight, consider yourself: pickle related. what a title to have.

but fr they're one of my favourite things to like, randomly grab out the cupboard and CoNsUmE but now all imma think about is just devouring your pickle legs IM SO SORRY I KNOW YOU NEED THEM BUT THEY'RE SO TASTY–

the existence of pickles should 100% be celebrated they bring me so much joy as a human being

......the fact i didn't think of JOcket actually pains me as a master of the dad jokes... I CANNOT BE SURPASSED

TALK AS MUCH AS I WANT???? oh you are playing a dangerous game here jo... one that may end with really jacked fingers from typing so much ajwbfpberpigbo

I HAVE INDEED EATEN! SLEPT? eh. DRANK WATER? amongst other things..... ALSO THERE ARE SO MANY BATS AROUND AND ITS BRINGING ME SO MUCH HAPPINESS but i am secretly harbouring a poor moth who fluttered into my room and got scared :(

i wouldn't wanna be a moth at this time either little buddy

ilysmmmm LOOK AFTER YOURSELF

ESSA!!! YES!!! TALK AS MUCH AS YA WANT TO!!! I'LL LISTEN!!!

H-HOLD ON BATS?!?!?!?! CUTE FLUFFY FLYING BATS?! AND where is the photo of the lovely moth in your room? I once had a moth in my room which was as big as my fist… that actually scared the shit out of me… and…please…do you know the Venezuelan poodle moth? No? look it up….THIS MOTH IS SO FLUFFY LIKE… NEXT LEVEL!!! And yeah…moths definitely play drums

okay…do I need to put a warning here? IDK!!!?? WARNING: me BABBLING about needle experience

naah!!! It's totally fine to have something against needles. (Well…at least you didn't faint! I fainted 2 times…not bc of needles…but yeah ^^;;) ALSO I'm the type of person which ALWAYS WATCH what they're doing with their needles. nurse: "You can look somewhere else."me: "Nah…have to know what you're doing and what you put in my arm" The last time the nurse got kinda nervous…maybe bc of me…not sure….but she poked me 5 TIMES WITH THE FUCKING NEEDLE… and didn't get any of my blood <_< SO another one had to come … I swear my arms had a lovely dark purple a few h later - some haematoma… And for my PICKLE knee surgery they offered me a sedative. But I said no… so I was fully awake while all these people prepare everything around me…that actually was a pretty dum decision…^^;; BUT the surgical team was funny (:

[that-crazy-five-foot-two-chick]

Rated G for Gosh Dang Near Everyone except people who don't like hurt/comfort sickfics

Word count: 1373

Summary: Winry insists on getting her covid shot as soon as Central offers it. Ed worries for her, even though she's fine. Until she's not.

A/N: written for @darkpersonapeace several days ago when she was recovering from her covid shot day-after yuckiness. Disclaimer though, I am not a medical professional, nor is this meant to be a realistic depiction of the typical side effects of the COVID-19 vaccine. This scenario is simply based on what my roommate experienced, and my side effects were far tamer. Let's kick covid in the butt, guys!

When the first COVID-19 vaccines made their way to Central City, Ed knew that Winry would want to be one of the first in line. Because that's how she was, after all. She always prioritized the needs and safety of others over the possible risks to her own well-being, especially when her automail patients were involved. It was one of the many reasons he'd married her.

However, Edward worried that she might develop some of the more drastic side effects, so he decided to accompany Winry on the train ride from Rush Valley to Central. After all, who knew what could happen if she was on her own, stranded hours away from help?

"Now, Winry, you know you can change your mind at any time, right? I'm not going to try to steer you away from this if it's what you're set on, but you know your patients and I would still respect your decision if you wanted to wait to make sure the vaccine doesn't cause any long-term damage to you, right?"

"Edward Rockbell," she frowned with her hands on her hips, doing nothing to diminish his pride in the name, "I could care less about some hypothetical damage if I even have half a chance at keeping my patients healthy and you know it. And besides, you never had such a high opinion of possible damage when you were involved." She raised an eyebrow.

"When I was involved, sure, but never when it was you, gearhead," he said softly, pulling her in for a hug. His hand held her head and ran down the length of her hair.

"Well, I'm doing it, Ed," Winry said into his shoulder. "Like it or not, I'm trying to protect you, too, even if I have to wait hours in line to do it."

"I could barely figure out what the heck you said between the mask and my shoulder, but with the way the line's going, I don't think you're gonna have to wait very long."

"Hm, I guess not."

"Now, I've researched this. You know you have to stay in the monitoring area for fifteen minutes afterwards, right? You know to stretch your arm so it doesn't get so sore, right? You know to keep your vaccination card…"

*****

Much to Edward's relief, Winry showed no signs of any negative side effects. They went out to dinner (unfortunately, at one of the restaurants the Colonel had recommended), and the train ride back to Rush Valley would have been almost boring if Ed hadn't entertained a child by drawing a transmutation circle that made a loud, garish toy when the child activated it.

And then they got in the car.

Winry cranked the car and made a stop at the nearest gas station while they took turns going to the bathroom. Two minutes down the road, however, the blood began to drain from Winry's face.

"Winry, are you doing alright?"

"I'm fine, Ed. It's not like I can't drive or anything." Several seconds later, Ed spoke again.

"Are you sure? Because you look like you're about to throw up."

"I'm—" she blanched.

"Winry Rockbell, pull over or I'll pull over for you!"

Thankfully, she obeyed and put the car in park.

"Now, don't move. I'll come around and get you."

"Ed, I'm not that bad."

He opened her door and pulled her out. "Get some fresh air, Winry. I'm gonna help you to the passenger's side, okay? This is why I came with you."

"I don't need—" she stumbled, cutting off the rest of her sentence.

"You were saying?" Ed chuckled after catching her with the arm that was already around her.

"Oh, just drop me in the car, will you?"

Fortunately, it was only a half hour drive to the other side of the city, but Ed feared that Winry's condition might worsen drastically in even that short a time frame.

First, he noticed her breaths get shorter and faster.

"Winry, do you need me to roll the window down? I'd help you on your side if I could."

"Y-yeah, maybe."

A few minutes later, he heard her whimpering quietly. He laid a comforting hand on her thigh. "What's happening? Is there anything I can do?"

"I don't know. I should have known this would happen. Even a normal flu shot wipes me out the whole next day, plus I hear it's worse if you've had covid before, and who knows, maybe I did, and—" he squeezed her leg, and she added in a small voice, "Maybe you could hold my hand?"

"Of course I'll hold your hand, hon," he smiled for her sake, adding under his breath, "and maybe speed a bit so we can get you home faster."

A few more minutes, and her whimpers grew louder. Winry's hand gripped his like a lifeline.

"Ed, I can't do this," she panted.

"You're so freaking strong, Winry. Just hold on a little longer. Squeeze my hand as tight as you want."

Her bone-crushing grip renewed his sense of urgency.

"Help me," she pleaded.

"What can I do, baby?"

"Help me," she echoed. "It hurts. It hurts so much."

"I'm getting you home as fast as I can. You're amazing, Winry."

She only moaned in response.

"I wanna die, I wanna die, I wanna die," she wept.

"Shh, I love you too much for that. You're my wife. You're my strong, brilliant, amazing wife, and I'd give up my entire body before I'd let you die. You hear me?"

"Mhm."

"Hey, do you remember when I said your hands are meant to give life?"

"Mhm."

"Well, keep holding my hand so that my hand give you life. We're so close. Just hang in there."

"I still wanna die," she sniffed.

"I'm gonna do what I can, okay, baby?"

Ed did his best to keep his hands from trembling. He had to stay strong for Winry. But what if this was a rare side effect? What if she actually was dying? No. No. It was just a vaccine. It'd be ridiculous if she was actually dying, but it didn't keep him from wondering if she needed to see a doctor. But please, he prayed to any deity that would listen, please let me do something for Winry.

So he sang. He sang her the lullabies of Trisha Elric. He sang her the old, cheesy love songs she had a soft spot for. When he ran out of those, he sang an oddly gentle version of some pop punk songs he listened to. He sang anything he could think of, from classic musicals to popular songs that Winry danced to, even if he thought they were trash.

Although her moans and whimpers didn't grow any quieter, she mewled, "You sing really pretty, Ed. Why don't you do it more?"

"If you make it through this, I'll sing for you whenever you want, Mrs. Rockbell. What song do you want next? We're almost home, and then you can lie down and I'll get you whatever you want. Does that sound okay?" He pressed a kiss to her hand, keeping his eyes on the road. He'd probably regret his promises to sing, but right then, he couldn't care less.

Ed took her song request and parked in front of their home shortly after. Walking over to the passenger side, he carefully pulled Winry out and carried her up the stairs past her shop to their apartment above it. She curled into his chest until he laid her on their bed.

"Equivalent exchange," he kissed her burning forehead. "You've taken care of me when you and Granny had to give me life-saving surgery after I lost my arm and leg. Now I get to look after you when you need me."

Winry smacked him weakly. "Alchemy freak."

"Gearhead," he laughed softly. "Try to sleep, if you can. I'll be right here the whole time if you need my hand again. Just tell me if you need anything, and I'll get it."

She smiled, then crumpled with a moan. After several seconds, she turned her head to look at Edward.

"Even if I want a purple polka dotted hippopotamus?"

Ed laughed. "Even if you want a purple polka dotted hippopotamus."

[frostedfaves]

Kids

Pairing: Jake Peralta x fem!reader

Summary: Jake and Y/N have a very important talk about the future.

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: mentions of infertility, a little angst

-

"Y/N!" Jake shouted as he threw open the apartment door, completely startling Y/N.

"What's going on? Are you okay?!" She rushed over to check him out and he stopped her hands with a sheepish smile.

"Sorry, everything's fine. I'm just so excited to show you this!" He took one of her hands and pulled her over to the couch with him. "My half sister from Texas had a baby a little while ago and finally sent pictures! Isn't he the cutest little ball of human you've ever seen?"

Y/N looked at the phone with a smile on her lips and just a hint of tears in her eyes. "He's beautiful."

"I know, right? God, cute kids are dangerous. They start to convince you that you need to make some of your own to help them build their cute baby army," Jake laughed as he looked at some of the other pictures, giving Y/N a bit of time to lose herself in her thoughts. 

If you don't give him a kid, he'll leave.

He'll pretend that it's fine but he will always regret it. 

Y/N shook her head, begging her mother's words to stop echoing through her head. There was nothing more she hated right now than how traditional she was. Surely kids can't be the only thing that makes a relationship last. 

"So you're saying you would like to have kids, then?" Playing with her fingers, heart pounding in her chest as she awaited the answer.

"I don't know, really. I mean I obviously have fears about being a good dad because I never had a good reference. But between my willingness to learn and your already existing perfection, I think we could make it work."

"Oh."

Jake noticed her deflate slightly and frowned. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, not at all! I just..." She sighed and crossed her legs, turning to completely face Jake as he did the same. "Since we're engaged now, I feel like I should tell you this so you can make your decision on whether or not you want to marry me."

"Baby, I'm not going any—"

"Jake, please hear me out before you make a promise you can't keep," she begged with tears in her eyes, waiting until he nodded to continue. "The other week when I was at my mom's showing her the ring and discussing our plans, kids came up. I had a doctor's appointment a few days later. My doctor told me that because of my surgery from years ago, I shouldn't have kids. There's a 99% chance I'll die during the birthing process."

Jake took a deep breath to calm himself from the sudden heavy feeling in his chest, blinking back a couple tears. "I'm so sorry, babe."

"The crazy thing is that I wasn't ever one of those people that always saw kids in her future, but that didn't make completely losing the possibility to have them hurt any less."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Jake questioned, keeping his tone soft.

"Because..." She stopped and puffed out a breath as her eyes betrayed her, spilling salty trails down her cheeks and past her lips. She watched them land on her hands and felt her heart breaking even more as her fiancé rubbed them dry with his thumbs.

"Because my mom said that it would either be a deal breaker that caused you to leave or you'd say it was fine and eventually regret it. I was scared that for once she might be right. I didn't want to know and it was selfish of me to keep that from you but I was terrified to lose you."

"Okay baby, I need you to hear me out now." He paused a second to take her in, his own tears threatening to spill at the thought of her internal struggle.

"Kids are adorable and could possibly save the world some day but they will never change how I feel about you. Ever. I didn't date or propose to you because I needed a son or daughter. I did those things because I've fallen in love with you and I can't possibly see myself going forward in life without you."

Y/N leaned forward to capture his lips with hers, pulling away seconds later and resting her head on his shoulder. She was aware of his shirt getting slowly soaked but could only hold onto the fabric near his waist as more tears came. Jake rubbed her back in silence, not wanting to rush her words to him.

"If the time comes that I really do want kids for certain and you do too, we can talk about adoption or surrogacy or whatever you want to do. I'm happy as long as you are," Jake continued, desperately wanting to make her feel better.

Eventually she lifted her head and wiped her cheeks, tilting her head slightly at the grin settling into his features. "What's that for?" she questioned, chuckling a bit.

"I just missed your smile is all."

Y/N found herself grinning even more than her fiancé, almost feeling silly for how distraught she was a second ago but knowing it was justified.

"I'm really glad we're talking about this because I do feel a lot better. And you're right. We'll have a child somehow if we really want one and you're also right about our relationship being much more than adding on to our family tree. I love you. Thank you for being so understanding."

Jake shifted his position on the couch so that he was facing the TV before pulling Y/N into his lap. "I love you, too. So what do you wanna watch, 16 and Pregnant?"

"Ha ha, you dick." She rolled her eyes and got settled against his chest, watching him flip through the TV guide. "Actually I kinda wanna watch it."

Jake laughed and selected the program, putting down the remote and wrapping his arms around his future wife. He kept his eyes on the screen as he lightly kissed her temple, hoping it was enough in the moment to reassure Y/N that she was stuck with him for the rest of his life.

[eleanorbloom]

When You’re Ready Ch. 17

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f! MC (Eleanor Bloom) x Ethan Ramsey.

Word Count: 6.6k  (Am I sorry? Absolutely not.)

Warnings: Angst and cussing.

Taglist @utterlyinevitable​ @binny1985​ @shanzay44​ @choicesficwriterscreations​ @laiba-the-person​ @starrystarrytrouble​ @lahellacute​ @lucy-268​  @cinnamonspongecake​ @romewritingshop​ @bratzlahela​ @mrs-raleighcarrera​​   @mercury84choices​  @curiousconch​

Chapter 17: Truly, Madly, Deeply.

I'll love you more with every breath Truly, madly, deeply do I will be strong I will be faithful 'Cause I'm counting on A new beginning A reason for living A deeper meaning, yeah

 “I’m an asshole.”

Aurora stared at Bryce leaning against the wall with his face buried in his forearm and his shoulders slumped. Defeated. Ashamed. Mortified.

“Bryce, if I told you this is not to make you feel worse than you already feel, it’s because you had understandable reasons to be mad. This whole situation between Eleanor and Ethan is… complicated and adding the information Elijah gave it to you only made things worse.”

Bryce stood straight and faced his friend, his eyes glistening.

“Understandable reasons. Thinking that Eleanor slept with Ramsey and she would dump me it’s an understandable reason to ignore her even if she had never given me any reasons to distrust her? I think not. It’s awful.”

His voice was full of regret and desperation, and even if seeing Bryce like that was painful for her, she didn’t regret her decision.

“You got caught in a misunderstanding. I bet you thought the worst because you’re afraid and that’s understandable. Now you know the truth and you can move on.”

“Move on?—He turned around and started pacing around the hallway trying to contain his anger.—"How can I move on if I know the last three days could’ve been so much different and I…”

“Bryce, stop there.”—Aurora snapped, serious. —"You have to stop wallowing in what-ifs and should’ves right now, because is not going to lead you anywhere, and is not going to help Eleanor either. She needs you. You’re the person she needs the most now, so you have to be in your best shape and mood to help her. Your feelings are important, but right now you have to focus on her.”

Bryce stopped in the middle of the hallway and sighed loudly, then he nodded and looked up at Aurora.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m not usually like this, I don’t lose control this easily, it’s just…”

It’s just that he couldn’t imagine a life without Eleanor, and he couldn't live with the fact that he could've held her, and kiss her, and love her the last three days but he didn't because he was blind and scared.

His breath started raging and he winced, trying to contain the emotions that were overwhelming him. The idea of losing her was becoming more palpable than ever.

“It’s okay, Bryce. You love her, she’s your girlfriend, I’d be more worried if you hadn’t lost your shit by now. Come here.”

Aurora pulled him into a hug, and he wrapped her instantly as if holding her was like clinging to the last drop of sanity he had left.

Guilt had always been his weak spot. He learned it when he left Keiki in Maui and never came back, and to this day he was still dealing with the consequences and trying to make up for the lost time.  

And now he was dealing with another kind of guilt, and facing death was making everything worse. The effects were instant, devastating, and maddening.

After a minute of herculean effort to not crying his soul out, Bryce pulled away from Aurora, feeling more serene and like a lot of weight had been taken off his shoulders.  

“Thank you, Aurora.”—He muttered, staring deeply at her chocolate eyes, trying to convey his feelings.— “You’re an amazing friend.”

If it wasn’t for her, Bryce would’ve drowned in guilt, shame, and self-loathing to a depth so dangerous, it would've taken an impossible effort to come afloat by himself.

Aurora smiled at him and shook him by the shoulders.

“Anytime you need, I’ll be there for you. You’re not alone.”

“Likewise.”

“Dr. Lahela?”

Bryce turned around and found a nurse a few feet away, looking at them cautiously, almost sorry for interrupting the intimate moment.  

“Yes, Marlene?”

“I’ve been trying to contact Eleanor’s family for a couple of hours, but no success. Dr. Ramsey told me you probably have an alternative number? Or maybe you could have access to Eleanor’s phone so we could get another number?”

“And what numbers do you have?”

“Her family emergency contact was her mom’s cellphone and a landline in Cincinnati.”

“And none of them works?”

“The cellphone is out of service, and no one answers in her house.”

Bryce frowned, thoughtful, and after a few seconds, he nodded.

“Oh. Of course. Eleanor’s parents aren’t in the city. They went to Chile to spend the national holidays with her mom’s family. We should try with her brother, he’s in college in Michigan. Where’s Eleanor’s phone?”

“It’s at the Diagnostics Office, with the rest of her belongings.”

Bryce and Aurora entered the empty office. In the center of the round table was a plastic bag with Eleanor’s clothes, shoes, and her phone. Bryce grabbed her phone and unlocked it with his fingerprint without a moment's hesitation.

Aurora chuckled without hiding the surprise in her eyes.

“What?”

“One thing is knowing her password, but adding your fingerprint?”

“It’s faster when you wanna put a song on Spotify.—He shrugged with a nonchalant expression on his face.—"She has access to mine too.”

Aurora and Marlene shared a knowing smile, but he didn’t notice it.              

Bryce scrolled through Eleanor’s contacts list. When he found “Benja”, he dialed instantly. After several rings, a whispering voice was heard on the other side of the line.

“Hello? Andrew? I’m in class right now.”

“Um, hello Benjamin, this is Bryce Lahela.”—He said softly.

“Bryce Lahela…  oh, shoot. Hello. You’re my sister’s boyfriend, right?”

“Y… Yes. Can we talk? I have something important to tell you.”

“Okay, wait a second.”

While he was waiting, Bryce couldn’t help but feel shivers down his spine. It was the first time he was talking to a member of Eleanor’s family, and even if he knew her family was aware of their relationship, it made him feel nervous reaching this milestone, especially under terrible circumstances, and after the doubts he had been feeling the past few days.

“Okay, I’m out. Something happened?”

Bryce tried to balance the concern of a boyfriend with the calmness and professionalism acquired in his medical career to not shock Benjamin more than necessary.

“Unfortunately, yes. There was an assassination attempt on a Senator here in Edenbrook, it was Eleanor’s patient, and she was caught in the middle. The hospital tried to contact your mother, but as she’s in Chile, I decided to contact you directly.”

“Shit. Yes, you did the right thing. How is she? What happened exactly?”

“She’s stable at the moment. This assassin used a canister with an unknown substance, so the hospital is working to figure out what was inside as soon as possible.  It already killed a man, and there’s a nurse in a coma."

“Oh my god, no…”

Bryce could sense the pain Benjamin was feeling even if he couldn’t see him. He knew how much Eleanor adored her brother, so it was natural that Benjamin would feel the same way about her. And knowing his sister was in danger of course would cause this type of reaction, especially being away.

“Is she awake? Can I speak with her?”

“She’s in quarantine, so is kind of difficult to let you talk through the phone, but I can try.”

“No, it’s okay. Don’t worry. I… I’ll fly as soon as I can to Boston.”

“Do you have a number so we can call your parents?”

“I’ll do it. I have my grandma’s landline, that’s the quickest way to contact mom.”

“Okay, then. Let me know if you need anything, alright? Do you have money to fly here?”

“Yes, I have a credit card to use in case of emergencies. Thank you, Bryce.”

“No problem.”

After a few more questions and Bryce giving him his number, Benjamin hung up. If he was lucky, he would be able to land in Boston in three hours.

“Okay, Benjamin is going to contact Eleanor’s parents and once he's here, they'll have a video call with the Team so they can inform Eleanor’s state more detailly.”

“Understood. Thank you so much, Dr. Lahela. I’ll let know Dr. Ramsey.”

“No problem, glad I could help.”

When Bryce grabbed his own phone to save Benjamin’s number, he noticed he had several missed calls and messages from Keiki.

“Bryce, I read that something happened at the hospital. Please answer me.” “I know you probably are in the OR but please call me when you see this” “Are you okay?”

Bryce sighed and dialed her number.

“Bryce? Oh my god, how are you? Why you didn’t answer!”

“I was at the surgery, Keiki. I told you it would last long”—He lied, but regretted it the second he let out the words.

“I know, but… I was worried, the news are saying the police is in the hospital, that someone tried to kill a Senator. Is that true?”

Bryce pondered his words. There was no point in lying, sooner or later she would find out, and it was better if it was from him.  So he told her the truth. That the rumors she saw on the news were true, and that Eleanor was in danger. Keiki was desperate and wanted to come over to the hospital to see her, but even if he needed his sister here, he had to play the responsible and serious older brother for once in his life.

“Keiki, it’s better if you stay at home. Is too dangerous here and I think Eleanor would kill me if I let you come over.”

She chuckled.

“That’s true. Better not give her a hard time.”

“Exactly.”

“Okay, but please, keep me informed.”

“I will. And if you need anything, please call me, and stay safe. I’m probably staying here tonight.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.  Please send Ella all my love if you see her, okay?”

“Sure, thank you, sis."

Three hours later, Bryce was deep in thoughts sitting in a chair near the atrium, when he saw the vivid image of Eleanor walking towards him.  He had to blink several times.

“Damn, pictures give you an idea, but I didn’t know you and Elle were so alike.— He joked, standing up from the chair and offering his hand to the guy in front of him. —"Hello Benjamin, nice to meet you.”

The situation wasn’t appropriate for jokes, but somehow Bryce felt like he needed to kill the tension from the start. Eleanor had told him her brother was ongoing and nice, and it just felt right to act that way with him, instead of serious and gloomy.

Benjamin returned the handshake and smiled.

He was way taller than Eleanor but not taller than him, and he had an athletic body, even if he wasn't on any sports team at college. He was just a soccer and basketball aficionado, or at least that’s what Eleanor had told him.

“Nice to meet you too, Bryce. For what it's worth, you’re as handsome as you seem in Ellie’s Pictogram. Thought you were using some Ken filter, but nope, that’s really you.—Benja teased, containing a laugh.

Bryce couldn’t help but chuckle.

“100% real, no weird filters, I promise.”

“Any updates?”

“None. She’s stable and was sedated right after we spoke the first time, so she should be awake by now. The rest is working in the labs trying to find out what could’ve been inside the canister.”

“And you’re not going?”

“I was hired as moral support. My friends are more expert in that field than me, I’m just a surgeon.”—Bryce replied sheepishly, shrugging.

“But the best surgical resident or that’s what I’ve heard.”

His eyes widened for a second, but then Bryce shook his head, amused.

“She told you that?”

“That and other fangirly praises like “oh, he’s so cute, so charming, and talented, the best surgeon, he’s amazing.”

His heart did a flip. He never expected Eleanor would talk about him like that to her brother. Or that she would talk about him at all.

“You must be really impressive to have my sister babbling like a teenager at the age of 27.”

“What can I say? I’m a total catch.”—Bryce gave him his characteristic charming smile, feeling somehow relieved for a moment. It was like Benjamin was giving him the same relaxed and nice vibes he always felt around Eleanor.

Benjamin laughed and Bryce’s heart did another flip as he saw traces of Eleanor’s smile in him. She was everywhere. In the shape of his eyes, the way he quirked his brows, in his grin, even he could hear her in his still marked Ohioan accent.

“Yeah, I’m pretty cocky too, ask my friends and everyone will say a round yes, but your sister doesn’t deserve any less.”

“I agree completely.”

After a few minutes, Bryce and Benjamin stood in front of the quarantined room. Eleanor was half-asleep staring at Rafael, who was sleeping.

“Andrew”—Benjamin muttered.

Eleanor was extremely pale, her eyes were puffy, and her lips parched and cracked, but the moment she opened her eyes and recognized Benjamin, her whole face brightened with love and surprise.  

“Benja! Ohmygod! What are you doing here?”

“Bryce contacted me so I had to come to see you. How are you?”

Eleanor stood up with difficulty. When she reached the door, her eyes were full of tears.

“Bebé… I’m… well, I’ve been better, but right now I’m so happy to see you.”

“Me too, sis.”

Both siblings shared a smile, the same kind smile, and Bryce couldn't help but mirror them.

“Well, I leave you to it. I’ll let Dr. Ramsey know you’re here so you can have the meeting with your parents.”

Bryce turned to leave but Eleanor stopped him.

“Bryce, wait.”

“Yes?”

“Thank you, thank you for calling my brother.”

Eleanor gave him a tender smile, full of thankfulness and adoration.

“Yeah, thank you, Bryce, for all you’ve done for my sister.”—Benjamin added, earnestly.

“It’s nothing. Let me know if you need anything.”

And he left the siblings catching up with their lives, the younger trying to cheer up the older with the usual jokes and mocks siblings have.

Hours later, Eleanor paged to report a new symptom Rafael had manifested before falling into a coma. Hopefully, it would be the key to find the answer they’ve been trying to reach all day.

“Bryce?”—Aurora murmured, approaching him in the hallway. “Dr. Ramsey wants to talk to you, he’s in his personal office.”

When Bryce turned to her he didn’t need a second glance to read the panic in her eyes. He gulped and then forced himself to smile at Eleanor.

“See you later, gorgeous.”

Bryce walked to the office as fast as he could. When he reached Ethan’s office, he breathed deeply before getting in. As he opened the door, he found the attending looking at the window, pensive. He looked small and fragile, and when Bryce stood behind him, he saw how haggard he was in the reflection of the window. After a few moments, Ethan turned to face him, and he didn’t even bother to hide his feelings.

“Do you know what’s in the canister?”

“Yes. June was right. It’s…”.—Ethan cleared his throat, brows knitted in worry.—“ It’s a maitotoxine.”

“Maitotoxine? I think I’m not familiar with the name.”

“It’s an extremely potent toxin commonly found in fish, but this… this toxin is something I’ve never seen before. Not June, not Baz…”—Ethan shoved his hand through his hair, evidencing his frustration.

“What does this mean?”—Bryce said in a tiny voice, already knowing what Ethan was about to say.

“There is no antidote for this, Bryce.”

For a moment, Bryce felt like he would faint, his mind went clouded, and lost track of space and time. His body wasn’t strong enough to process such information. Such undeniable and hurtful truth.

What he had been fearing all day was now materializing.

“And what are you going to do? Can you create an antidote or modify another one with a similar molecular structure? That has been done lots of times.”

“Yes, that’s what we are hoping to do. Aurora informed me that a group of doctors from Mass Kenmore is coming to Edenbrook to help, so we’ll have the best minds working on an antidote.”

But they had to have it before it’s too late.”

“You have to… you have to find the antidote, Ethan. She can’t die… She…”

Bryce suddenly got out of breath. The desperation was brewing again. The pain was inexorable. He couldn’t hold it anymore.

“I can’t lose her. Ethan, please… You have to...”

He couldn’t tell when happened, but all at once, he found himself drowning in sobs and with large tears streaming past his neck, reaching his chest.

He did his best to not succumb to his feelings in the OR because Kyra needed him, and he couldn't fail her nor Eleanor.

He managed to hold it while he was with Aurora because there was still hope and Aurora forced him to focus on Eleanor.

He was doing fine keeping his hopes high, trusting they would find out what was in the canister and then set a treatment and everything would be alright.

But there was no cure, no antidote.

Even if one hundred doctors were working on it, no one could assure him that they could do it before it’s too late. Before she’s gone.

He didn't even want to think in a world without her, but the sole draft, just a slight hint of it was devastating, unbearable.

He started gasping for air. His guts were shaking uncontrollably. The lump he felt in his throat at OR was now bigger and even more painful. His entire body was numb.

This was a living nightmare.

After a few seconds, Bryce took a chair and sat down before his legs could fail him.  Ethan did the same.

“We have to stay positive, Bryce. Many of us have experience with research and with the help of Mass Kenmore and your friends, I’m sure will be on time to fight the toxin.”

“I wanna believe that, I’ve been believing this shit all day, Ethan. But… if it’s too late. I…”—He rubbed his face with both hands, his face red and wet with tears. Then he buried his face in his hands.—“She doesn’t deserve this… She can’t die… Please…”

Ethan patted him in the shoulder, comfortingly, his eyes haunted with fear and sadness.

“Bryce, I won’t let anything happen to Eleanor ...”—He hesitated for a moment, pondering his next words.— “You know what she means to me. I know you do. And I’ll do everything I can to save her, I promise. Whatever it takes. I won’t let anything happen to her. "

Bryce looked at him defeated.

“If I could, I would do it too, but I’m so useless. I feel so useless.”

"No, Bryce, on the contrary, you have done for her more than any of us could. If she’s still able to have a smile on her face despite the hell she’s living, if she’s still standing is not only because she’s incredibly strong. It’s because she has you. You’re part of the reason she hasn’t fallen into a coma yet.”

There was a painful rawness in those words. In another time and circumstances, Ethan would have never been able to say it aloud, mostly for pride and because he didn’t use to open to anyone. But not today. His love for Eleanor was selfless enough to let him recognize that if she was doing good was because of Bryce, and she had given him enough bravery to accept it out loud in front of the person she had chosen over him. Because Ethan only needed one second of watching Eleanor looking at Bryce to realize she was in love with him.

The only person Eleanor needed, was Bryce.

Ethan’s words felt like an absolute and relieving certainty to Bryce, mostly because who was saying it was the person he would expect it the less, and it gave him the strength he needed to keep going. To keep being there for Eleanor in this difficult night.

“Thank you, Ethan.”—Bryce said after a while, regaining breath and clarity.

The attending nodded and then stood up from the chair.

“Come on, we have to speak with Eleanor, and she’ll need you by her side.”

Eleanor was hopeless. Bryce could tell how the slight hope she had inside her had vanished with the news.

“We’ll do our best to find the antidote. Just keep fighting Eleanor.”—Elijah reassured.

The doctors from Mass Kenmore and the rest of their friends started to go. Sienna was heading Benjamin to the fifth floor so he could have some rest. He didn’t want to leave the hospital in case something happened.

And then, there was only Ethan and Bryce outside the room.

Eleanor smiled at Ethan, noticing how troubled and scared he was, as if he didn’t want to leave her there, knowing things could go wrong anytime and he couldn’t say goodbye. But he knew it wasn’t his place to be anymore. He knew it was Bryce’s.

“Thank you, Ethan. For everything.”

“We’ll make it, Eleanor. Keep fighting just as you’ve been doing until now.”—He stared deeply into her eyes for a moment, before turning around and leave Bryce alone in the hallway.  

Bryce watched him leave, and when he looked at Eleanor, her swelling eyes were already on him, clinging onto him even if she couldn’t touch him. Like his eyes were strong and powerful enough to hold her to life.

She was tired. She was giving up.

“It’s gonna be okay, Elle, I promise.”

“It won’t. How they’re going to create an antidote in just a few hours? Raf and Danny are in a coma, they could go at any moment, so do I."

“Yes, it could happen at any moment, but that moment could take hours, even days, and I’m sure the team will have it on time.  They have a lot of brilliant people working on it, with tons of experience. They’ll make it, I know.”

Eleanor shook her head hastily, sobbing.

“It’s just I’m so tired, Bryce. I… I can’t take it anymore, I’m tired of being strong and show hope and shit, I want this to be over, I’m done.”

“I know you are, babe. You have been so strong and brave, it’s understandable that you want a break. You deserve it, but you have to keep fighting, okay?”

“The only reason I’m doing it it’s because of you. Because somehow you don’t let me fall. If it wasn’t for you, I don’t think I would be still standing. I don’t know I’d be here. I wouldn’t be that strong.”

Bryce smiled tenderly at her puffed eyes.

“You would. Don’t you know it already, Eleanor? That strength that you have is all you. You have it inside you. You always have.”

“Don’t you know it already, Bryce? You make me stronger. You know it’s true.”

“Glad to be of service.”—He flashed her a smile that made her smile too.—“But this is mostly you.”

“I wish I could hold you right now. I miss you so much.”

“Maybe you can.”

“How?”

“There’s another hazmat suit out here. I could go inside and make you company for a while.  I hate the idea of you being alone in a moment like this.”

“Would you do that for me?”

“How dare to ask that, Eleanor Andrea Bloom? You know I would do anything for you.”

Eleanor bit his lower lip, compassing her sobs for a moment.

“I’d love to have you here with me.”

“That’s it, then.”

A few minutes later, Bryce entered the room with the hazmat suit on, and a dashing smile adorning his face.  

“Well, what do you think? Am I still handsome? Or am I somehow more handsome? Be honest.”—He said flirtily.

She shook her head, chuckling.

“God, how I missed you, Johnny Bravo.”—She said looking at him from head to toes.—"I think it’s your best look yet. You’ll catch a lot of babes with that.”

“Ah,”—He growled, taking slow steps towards her— “but you know there’s just one babe I want, and I have it right here in front of me.”

Eleanor looked up at him, almost not believing he was in front of her, that she was able to touch him.

In an intent to believe it, she cut the distance and wrapped Bryce in a tight embrace.

“You’re here, you’re really here.”

“You’re not the only one who was dying for a hug, you know? Especially after all the opportunities, I wasted in these few days."

Bryce tightened his hold, almost scared that Eleanor would vanish into thin air any second now.

“Elle, I’m…”

“Shhh… Not now.”

He nodded and both remained silent, savoring the embrace, the sweet feeling of having each other in their arms. Even if they couldn’t feel the warmth and smell they loved so much, feeling their arms wrapped around those so well known curves was sufficient. It brought them joy, peace. A sense of reality in the middle of that living hell.  

After a minute, her limbs started trembling and her breath got short.

“Come on, babe, let’s get you to bed.”

Bryce took her hand and helped her laid down. Then, somehow, he managed to squeeze in the bed beside her.  

“How’s that?”

“Much, much better.”—Eleanor placed a hand over his waist and then added: —“My brother really liked you. A lot.”

“I know. I liked him too.”

“You know?”

“I told him I was a total catch, cause I am, and he agreed with me. That totally means that he likes me, right?”

“Bryce…”—She laughed, rolling her eyes.

“What? It’s the truth! I didn’t force him to agree or anything! I mean, you did half the job by telling him all those incredible things about me.”

“He told you that? Oh, that brat!”

Bryce shrugged, amused while Eleanor shook her head.

I’m glad you finally get to know each other, and you actually liked each other.”

"I mean, it's hard not to. He's really nice and you've told me so much about him I feel like I've known him for a long time."

“I think something like that happened to me with Keiki, even if I had absolutely no idea about her existence before I met her”—Eleanor teased, feigning annoyance.

“Keiki… She’s been worried about you all day. She was crazy to come up here, but I told her you would kill me if she came. But I’ve been giving her updates every hour.”

“Oh, yes. I would’ve been so fucking mad, Bryce Lahela. I’m glad you kept her safe.”—Then she sighed.—"The poor thing, must be all alone. You should go to see her.”

“I know, but I can’t leave you here, Elle.”

“Would it be too selfish of me if I tell you I don’t want you to leave?”

“No. Not at all.”—His look softened.—“I don’t want to leave, either. In fact, I won’t leave your side, Eleanor.”

Bryce gave him a tiny smiled and they stared at each other, savoring once again the moment of being together. After a while, Eleanor laughed.

“What is it?”

“You look so fucking handsome, Bryce, it’s ridiculous, and I look like shit. I’m done a complete mess.”

Bryce chuckled, spotting the dark circles around her eyes, her tousled hair, how pale she was. He really hadn’t noticed how bad she looked.

“Yeah, you look like shit”—He teased.—"But you know what? You’re still the most beautiful creature in the universe, princess.”

Her eyes were swelling with tears, and a moment later, a sob escaped her mouth.

“Okay, okay, I take it back,”—He added seconds, later, noticing her swelling eyes. “you don’t look like shit, you look amazing, babe, incredible. Ready for a Vogue photoshoot. Ready for the Oscars.”

Bryce couldn’t tell if what escaped her mouth was a sob or a giggle, but her face had lightened somehow.

Somehow, he managed to end her anguish and ease her pain.

Somehow.

He didn’t know how.

As if it was pure luck.

But she perfectly knew it wasn’t luck.

“Gosh, Bryce…”—She couldn’t continue. It felt like she was out of breath.—"Bryce I…”

She brought her hands to the side of his head, her thumbs over the face shield as if she was caressing his cheeks.

She locked eyes with him, and that look, that adoring look made him feel millions of shivers through his all body. Those dreamy tender eyes managed to convey all the emotions that were brewing inside her.

And Bryce was finally, finally able to see it, after missing it so many times that day.

“Te amo.”

He was at last, at last able to hear it, after longing for it for so long.

Her eyes were looking directly into his soul, into his heart, pouring everything she had inside to fill him with the most sincere and sweet love. With adoration, admiration, tenderness. With the purest feelings anyone could imagine.

And those two words sounded like relief. Like she had been choking and those words out loud were acting like the air she had been needing for so long.

“I love you so, so, so much, Bryce.”

And her eyes now were even fuller with adoration and candor. Full of happiness and life, even if ten minutes ago she had been feeling ready to die.

“I… I wish I had realized sooner, and these weren’t the circumstances where I’m able to say it… but if I don’t make it, I don’t want to go without you knowing what I feel about you.”

“Babe, you’ll make it, you don’t need to do this just because you’re here.”

“I’m doing this because that’s how I truly feel. I’m in love with you.”

“You really are?”

Even if he had been waiting for those words for months, he couldn’t believe it. Even if he had been receiving signs all day, from different people, he still couldn’t believe it.

“Yes. Yesterday I was finally able to see it, but it has been there for a while.”

“How so?”

“I’ll explain it later. You need to know some things first.”

“Okay.”

“As you know, I went to Ethan’s apartment after the game.”

“Aha.”

And she told him everything that happened that night. She didn’t keep anything. Well, except the personal stuff Ethan had shared with her, but the confession, the things he promised her, the kiss, how she felt after that, what she talked with Aurora. Everything. Because she had nothing to hide and he deserved to know everything, just as it always had been.

“And I just like that, I realized that I was over him. Just like you said. I was in front of the Ethan I used to love, telling me he loved me, offering me everything. But it turned out I… I didn’t want him anymore.”

“I’m sorry it had to be this painful to you. I had no idea you had been hurt so much.”

“Yeah, I had it blocked, but I’m sure I would’ve told you if it wasn't the case.

Bryce stroke her hair in the most tender way he could, his eyes haunted.

“I’m sorry, babe. I’m for being so distant and an ass with you. I should’ve let you talk, but I was afraid of what you would tell me”

“I know. I know and I completely understood it. But I can’t deny that at some point I was afraid that… I hurt you to the point of you not wanting anything to do with me anymore. That going with Ethan that night was the last straw and that no matter what happened between him and me, you… you would want to break up."

“No, of course not. How could I decide something like that without a warning? And with something I pushed you to do? No. I was just… trying to delay the inevitable. The suffering of knowing that you gave him a chance.”

“Well, I didn’t. And I realized that I was in love with you instead. At last.”

“Are you sure about that? You know there’s no need to hurry…”

“Bryce, why is so hard to believe it? Should I shout it with a megaphone, or maybe post photos and stories on my Pictogram telling that I’m truly, madly, deeply in love with you so you can believe me? Because I’m willing to.”

Bryce laughed, incredulous.

“Truly, Madly, Deeply. Damn. Just like that Savage Garden song?”

“The very same. I like the 90s.”

“A woman after my own heart.”

She bit her lower lip, smiling.

“I cannot believe how blind I was. It has been there, the whole time!”

“I’m listening.”

“It’s…”

Her whole face lit up with that sunny smile he loved so much. For a moment, he forgot where they were.

“It’s in the way I look at you, like a fool. Like I was fifteen. It’s the fact that you’re my first thought in the morning and my last one before going to sleep. You’re the first person I think of when something good happens, or when something bad happens too. In your arms is where I feel safe, and I know there's no other place I'd rather be. And god, I laugh with all your jokes, even the bad ones, and I don't find you cocky anymore because all that you say about yourself is true, and I think about you all the damn day, Bryce. I’m all day wanting for the day to end so I can see you and kiss you. And…”

Eleanor stopped for a moment, trying to catch some breath. Bryce shook his head. He had the stupidest smile she had ever seen on him. The same smile she was sure she had on her face right now.

“Another example? My brother. I haven’t been able to stop talking about you. It wasn’t like this from the beginning, but now I’ve just realized that the last few weeks I haven’t done anything but tell him, or my mom, how happy I am with you. I’ve been even imagining how it would be if I ever introduce you to my abuela. I bet she would adore you the moment she meets you, and she would love you more than me, and would cook your favorite meal, and would give you the last spoon of ice cream and… and I really don’t care, because you deserve it. You deserve the last spoon of ice cream, and my grandma’s meals, and … Everything. You deserve everything, Bryce.  I don’t know what else to say. I’m in love with you like a teenager, and I feel like never before. What did you do to me?”

He smiled, tears of joy streaming down his face. That slump in his throat hurt again, but for different reasons. It was for the absolute tenderness and adoration he was feeling inside his chest. Admiration. Love. God. He couldn’t understand how he could love her so much. How much she meant to him. How happy and complete she made him feel. He had never felt this for anybody before, he knew it already, but now he was realizing he would never feel this way for anybody else, ever.

“I’m crazy about you too, Eleanor. I’ve been holding these feelings for so long to not scare you or pressure you, but god, I feel the same way. I think about you all day, and every time I think about the future, you’re in there.”

“That’s a relief, because for a moment I thought I was being too cheesy and clingy.”

“Babe, you’re always cheesy. You can’t help it around me.”

“You created a monster, Bryce Lahela.”

“I like cheese. I would eat cheese all day. And for the record, I would definitely share the last spoon of ice cream with you"

Bryce winked at her and then pressed her body against his.

“God, I wish I could kiss you.”

“You will.”

“But I want to kiss you noooow."

Eleanor pouted and butterflies fluttered ferociously in his stomach. She made him feel like fifteen too.

“Well, miss impatience, is nice to finally meet you.”

"Tell me that you're not dying to kiss me right now."

“I am. But we’ll have to manage with what we have for now.”

“How so?”

“Imagination. How would you like me to kiss you the next time?”

“If there’s a next time.”

Bryce scowled her and squeezed her waist.

“There will be. You’ll get through this, babe. I promise.”

She gave him a sad smile.

“So?”

“So what?”

“How will you want me to kiss you after you get out of here.”

“Mmm… I think… Slow and sweet, just like our ‘first kiss’ at Isabella’s”

“Mmm what a good kiss. Cute and romantic.”

“Or maybe passionate and breathtaking, just like that kiss at the beach, on your birthday. God, I can’t decide!”

“Don’t worry, we can always try both.”

“I hope so.”

“We will. You have to believe me.”

“Okay. I believe you. If I die, I’ll come to visit you every night, Bryce Lahela.”

“Lucky for me you won’t die. I would hate to have your ghost every night by my side and not being able to kiss you and do you dirty things.”

“Bryce!”—Eleanor giggled. “Okay, okay, I believe you. Bring me that dreamy kiss now!”

“Close your eyes.”

Eleanor obeyed and closed her eyes.

“Remember that night at the Museum?”

“I could never forget”—She muttered—.

Bryce took her hand and with the tip of her fingers, he brushed her lips delicately, exposing her inner lip for a moment. Then with her thumb, he caressed her mouth.

“I will kiss you sweetly and delicately while I hold you by the waist, transmitting how much I love you, how much you mean to me. How happy I am to have you in my life.”

After a few seconds, she opened her eyes, smiling.  

“That night was perfect.”

“Yeah, and you looked gorgeous.”

“But you, you were stunning in that silky pink shirt… And the night was so nice. Warm and starry. Oh, and there was music playing.”

“Yes, that slow jazz… When I fall in love… It will be forever”—He sang slowly.

“Or I’ll never fall in love…”—She continued.—“You remember the song?”

“Obviously. It played on my mind on repeat for like two weeks.”

“Oh. That means you had that kiss playing on repeat on your head for two weeks?”

“I plead the fifth.”

She chuckled.

“Well, I, for one, thought about that kiss a lot in the following days. Another example of how goofy you leave me.”

“Good I wasn’t the only one.”

Suddenly, her smile faded, and Eleanor looked at him earnestly.

“Thank you for taking a chance on us that night, Bryce. Since that day you’ve given me nothing but happiness. And I’m sure that from that day there was no returning point for me. Sooner or later I would fall for you, and I’m glad I finally did.”

“I would do it a million times, in a heartbeat, Eleanor.”

“And I’d choose you a million times, over and over again. I only wish that none of those million times had to involve me dying just when I realized I was in love with you.”

“You’ll make it, babe. I have so much love to give you, that I won’t let you go so easily.”

_____

A/N: Hello! If you make it this far, I have to thank you! I know it was a super long chapter, but it was really important (for the story and for me) and I honestly didn’t want to save words, nor split it in two chapters.

If I had to resume Bryce in this chapter in two words those would be: Husband material. And next chapter will be husband material x3264546.

Thank you for all your support, I hope you liked this chapter. I’d love to hear your opinions in the comments.

A big hug to each and every one of you!

A/N2: *spoiler* Graphic description of Eleanor after chapter 17:

I think it works the other way around too 😂

[katslitg]

how the open heart lis would propose:

Jackie Varma:

“please, i never expected you to be the type to think of marriage,” you’d say to jackie one day, drawing circles with your fingers on her body while laying in bed together

“why does that suprise you?” “i don’t know, just expected you to be the type that wouldn’t settle down,”

she’d roll her eyes, knowing she had something big planned out for you

“whatever. goodnight, mc,” she’d say, turning her back on you, making your eyes widened

“i’m usually the little spoon but fine, if you want to be the little spoon this time, i’ll allow it,” you joked, not knowing she was seriously a little hurt and mad

she had known the moment you went out of your way to help her with her money problems

and im not only talking about that time you helped her babysit, no

you had done more than that in her eyes, everytime you’d tell her you found a job she could do, everytime you paid the part of the rent she couldn’t pay, everytime you insisted on going grocery shopping when it was her turn but most importantly, listening to her problems

the small things, mostly. those small details made her fall head over heels in love with you

so when you apologized the next day, because, well, jackie had been ignoring you again, but not because she was mad at you, no, but she didn’t know how or where to propose

so she went to ask her friend, sienna, for help

that helped of course, but she was still nervous that night

“you look beautiful today, mc,” “aww, thanks, jack, so do you,” a blush crept on her face before she intertwined your fingers together

“the liberty hotel? it’s not even our anniversary, jackie, but it’s really sweet you’d bring us back here,” you’d say, the memories of your first date with her flooding through your mind

you turned around when you realised she wasn’t catching up with you, only to find her on one knee

“oh. my. god. i-” you mumbled, but she just shook her head and smiled, “mc, i want you to know how much i love and appreciate you. ever time you help me out, or just whenever you’re there for me, my heart skips beats and i feel like the luckiest girl on this planet to ever exist, so mc, will you please marry me?”

“jackie, i,” you paused and pulled out an identical red velvet box, like the one in her hand, out of your coat’s pocket, causing her eyes to widen before an even bigger smile formed on her face, “so that’s a yes?”

“of course it’s a yes! i love you so much,”

she wrapped her arms around you before pulling you in for a soft kiss, “i love you, too.”

Bryce Lahela:

“hey, do you wanna go to the drive in movie thing tomorrow tonight?” bryce randomly asked you as you were chilling on the couch at the doctor’s lounge after you shifts. “hmm? oh yeah, sure,” you smiled.

“to be clear, i meant just the two of us,” he’d say making you nod before giving him a confused look but quickly dismissing it

he had been nervous to say, at the very least

“what if they say no? oh my god, keiki, what if they break up with me completely? or worse, what if-,” “oh my god bryce, shut up! mc loves you, i’m sure they’ll say yes,”

he loved you, everyone knew that, but the moment he knew that you were the one was when you handled that situation with keiki and his parents very well. he was scared to tell you the truth but when he realised that you didn’t care that he was part of that lahela family, he knew. of course that was only part of the reason, they fact that you could deal with him at all showed him enough.

when you opened the door of your apartment, he was flabbergasted, “wow, mc, you look gorgeous,” “thank you, babe, you don’t look that bad yourself either.” you winked, earning a small blush from him.

“have fun!” was the last thing he heard elijah shout before you closed the door, making him relax a little. “shall we get going, my good sir?” you joked and held out your arm for him which he gladly held onto.

when you looked at the dumb, old, romance movie infront of you, you yawned, which had made bryce even more nervous.

“you alright, mc?” you nodded and smiled at him, “yeah. im fine. you do know we have already seen this movie, right? it was the one that played at our first official-,” he had cut you off, “date. yeah i know.”

he turned so his face was focused to yours before pulling out the box with the ring in it, “mc, i love you so much it even physically hurts sometimes. the moment you told me you didn’t care who my family was and how you showed me how much you love keiki and accepted her as family has made me love you even more, which i didn’t even think was possible, so mc, will you marry me?”

the happy tears streaming down your face and the big smile were all the confirmation he needed, but he just had to hear the words come out of your mouth

“bryce, yes! absolutely! i love you, too, you dork,” you said before pulling him close for a kiss.

Rafael Aveiro:

“no way,” you laughed at a story about young rafael juliana told you, causing him to blush

he sat across from you two and was simply admiring you with a big smile on his face

trust me, this man knew you were the one from the moment he met you. the fact that you always supported him whenever he did stupid and reckless shit made him even more sure. and when you told you never ever wanted to lose him after his accident, he knew that you felt the same way he did.

“so, do you have a plan?” his grandma asked, just seconds after you had left, he furrowed his eyebrows, “what?” “for your proposal!”

after that talk with his grandmother, he planned everything out.

“hey, mc, can you meet me at the rooftop aftsr your shift?” he asked, after finding you roaming the hallways of the hospital

a bright smile on your face after you saw who it was, “‘course. what’s this about though?” he just mischievously smiled, “you’ll see.”

and god were you glad you had that one cute outfit you had forgotten still in your locker

“what are we doing here?” you asked as you two got up to the hospital’s rooftop, “we’re going for a ride with the helicopter,” he smiled, making you widen your eyes, “is that even allowed? i mean you just got your job ba-,” he cut you off, “no need to worry,”

he had stopped at the landscape you two had flown over that one time after the baseball game to watch the sunset and have a picnic

right before the sun had set, he helped you stand up and got down on one knee himself, “raf-,” he cut you off by opening the velvet box in his hand, making you catch your breath

“mc, i knew you were the one from the moment i made you. of course, proposing back then would’ve been waaaaaaaaaay too soon, but i’ve grown to love you even more, which i didn’t even know was possible. you make me want to a better and careful man and in all honesty, no one could ever make me do that last part, so mc, will you marry me?”

you wiped your cheeks, and quickly nodded your head way too fast, “yes, yes, yes, a million times yes! i love you, raf,” you pulled him for a kiss before he responded, “i love you too.”

“wait a second, you never told me about how you got the helicopter?” he grinned, “i told naveen i was planning on proposing,” you laughed a little, before pulling him even closer.

Ethan Ramsey:

this man doesn’t want to get married

i mean sure that thought had crossed his mind, but it wasnt a serious until something happened to you, and i mean something really serious

when you rolled in on that stretcher on a quiet, saturday afternoon lets just say that man was going crazy, god forbid something happening to you, so he was extra irritated that day

“no, no, no, only the best surgeon!!! bryce, this is too personal for you, let emery handle it,” he’d say, not wanting the resident to assist, but only wanting attendings.

when you finally got out of surgery and were placed in the icu, he knew for sure that you were the love of his life and that he was gonna make it official the second you felt better.

when you finally woke up, his face was the first thing you’d see.

“ethan? what happened?” “you got in a car crash, everything’s fine, mc, i promise i wont leave your side. ever.”

after a couple of days, you were finally discharged and god did that feel great

sienna was helping you, taking your stuff and making sure you didn’t feel hurt anywhere that day, “sienna, i’m fine, you can go back to work,” she dismissed your protests before pulling you even closer, letting most of your weight shift on her, “no, i’m going back home with you and then i’ll come back,”

that was until ethan came in, “ah, dr trinh, can i talk to mc alone for a minute?” she’d nod, giving you a knowing look

“what’s up?” “i was uh wondering if you had time today? so i can take you out on.. a date...”

your eyes widened, “yeah. of course. sure.”

that evening you had taken so long getting ready, not really feeling any pain anymore from the medications you had taken

even though you knew you had to stay home and rest, you didn’t

“so where are we going?” you asked as you stepped out of the apartment door when he picked you up

“you’ll see soon enough,” he’d say, linking your arms

he stopped outside of a flower garden, you remembered it as you looked around, “wow, you didn’t forget!” you happily said, before he chuckled, “of course i didn’t forget it,” he said as he looked around the flower garden your parents had gotten engaged at.

“mc, i know i said i didn’t really believe in marriage but those couple of days made me re-evalute my decision,” he’d say, slowly getting on one knee, earning a gasp from you, “seeing you on that stretcher that day made me so scared of losing you, i hope i never have to go through that feeling again, so, mc, will you marry me?”

tears prickled in your eyes, your voice weak while you muttered out a quiet ‘yes’ before shouting it out

“YES, YES, YES, OF COURSE!!!”

he’d pick you up and spin you around, “i love you, mc,”

“i love you, too, ethan.”

[managedmischiefs]

north//chapter eight

okay this is the reblog of this chapter because I thought I fucked up. sorry to those on the taglist who are getting tagged a second time. please enjoy and ignore my craziness!!

genre: angst, some fluff

warnings: hospitals, mentions of family death, guns, and drugs

word count: 11.1k

AMELIA

I drag myself up the stairs of my apartment, rubbing the sleepiness out of my eyes. I nearly trip off the top stair in my tired haze but I manage to catch myself on the railing before I faceplant. My bedroom is dark and is only lit by the moonlight from the open window, but I wasn't sleeping anyway. I haven't gotten a full night’s sleep since Spencer left. I won't until he gets back and we can argue about who’s hogging the covers and he can kick me in his sleep and I can lay my head on his chest. 

I climb back into bed and tuck my legs under the duvet, trying my hardest to get comfortable on top of my freezing sheets. But before I can, my phone starts buzzing on the bedside table. I groan, cursing whoever is trying to call me at two in the morning. Unless it's Jenna or Frankie or Yaz and they're drunk and need a ride home, because this definitely wouldn't be the first time that happened. I reach over and pull my phone out of the charger, my blood running cold when I find Penelope’s contact. What in the world is she calling me about at two in the morning? What if it’s about Spencer? Is Spencer okay? Did he get hurt? Is Mike okay? She has never called me this late before and now that Spencer is upset while chasing a serial killer, his margin of error is so much smaller because he could let his emotions bleed into his work life. 

I brace myself for the worst and squeeze my eyes shut. "Hello?"

"Oh, thank god!" Penelope exclaims and I can hear that she's out of breath. "I know it's 2 am where you are but I called you three times and you didn't answer and-"

"Penelope," I instantly shut her up. My hands are starting to shake and I feel my chest getting tight in a hauntingly familiar way. "What's wrong?"

"There," she lets out a shaky breath, "there was this crazy shootout at a diner and the unsub went nuts and Spencer was wearing his vest but-" I gasp, tears falling down my cheeks already, "he got hit in the neck. He's in surgery now and me and our unit chief just landed in Texas but I thought you'd wanna know," I let out a strangled sob, falling back against my pillows and curling up. "I'm so, so sorry, Amelia. I-I wish I didn't have to make this call. But there's one more thing I have to tell you."

"No," I whimper, covering my face with my hand, "no more, please."

"The Sheriff," my breath catches in my throat and my hand drops from my face to grasp at the bedsheets, "he was there too."

"He's okay, Penelope," I beg and plead more than I have in the last few years. "Please tell me he's okay. Please tell me he's okay. I can't- please."

"He's fine," Penelope tells me quickly. "He got shot twice but they both hit his vest. He's got some bruises but he got discharged from the hospital a couple of hours ago. I just thought you should know. I'm on my way to the hospital with our section chief to check up on Spencer."

"Wait,” my eyes widen, a waterfall of tears cascading down my cheeks, “Penelope, how do you know about Mike-"

"Rossi," Penelope admits shamefully. "After the whole weird thing when he recognized you, he made me do a background check on you and-"

"Oh my god.”

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! He's one of my higher-ups! I had to! But when you think about the positive side, me doing that background check on you allowed me to know about Mike and I could ca-"

"I-I gotta get out there, Penelope," I stumble off my bed and rush towards my closet, lugging out the first duffle bag I see and stuffing random articles of clothing inside. “I need to see Mike and-and I need to see Spencer.”

"Don't worry about a ticket. I'll get one for you. Just pack and get to the airport."

I hang up and toss my phone aside, failing at containing my tears as I hastily pack for an emergency trip to Texas. I notice a small stack of clothes folded in the corner of the room, and I remember that Spencer left some sweats here the last time he slept over. So I stuff those in my bag too and then check my phone again, finding flight information from Penelope and responding with a million thank you's. I step into converse and don’t even take the time to tie them before I rush out of my house and to the airport. 

I'm sure I look like a complete mess as I drag myself through security, checking my phone every few seconds for some sort of update from Penelope. She only texts me once, telling me that Spencer is still in surgery, and that’s it. Nothing else. My cheeks are tear-stained and I occasionally burst into tears and I’m sure that everyone thinks I’m absolutely crazy. But once I get onto my red-eye, I have a row to myself where I can cry in peace.

Thankfully, the flight is short and I only have three hours to stress, but it's an excruciating three hours. I'm left to wonder if my boyfriend is going to make it off the operating table. I wonder if he's going to die not knowing that I'm in love with him. I wonder if he's going to die and his last memory of me will be my freezing cold shoulder. I'd never forgive myself if that happens. I don't think I could live if that happens. 

The wheels touch down in Texas and I don’t even have the change to revel in the fact that I’m back in the place where I spent parts of my childhood. I can’t grin at the ice cream shop that I went to with my brother and I can’t feel angry when I pass by the doctor’s office that my dad dragged me to. I just hail a cab and stare down at my phone, waiting for it to light up with a notification. I tell the cab driver to take me to Mike’s station, and I’m sure he’s just another person who thinks I’m crazy for going to a police station at six in the morning. I barely choke out a thank you when I pay the driver and then go rushing out of the cab and into the station.

I recognize some of the members of the BAU standing all the way at the back of the station but I see Mike first, and I start crying again. His face lights up when he sees me he instantly pulls me into a hug, nearly lifting me off the ground. I guess nobody told him I was coming.

"Are you okay?" I squeeze him as tight as I can, not caring that my iron tight grip might be hurting him more than he was before. "Penelope- she told me what happened and, oh my god, are you okay?" I pull away and inspect his face, searching for any injuries on his face, the same way I do to Spencer when he comes home from cases.

"I'm fine, Amelia. That technical analyst got you here?" I unravel myself from his hold and nod. "I'm happy to see you, but I know you wanna see Spencer. I'll bring you to the hospital."

Mike leans down to pick up the bag that I had dropped to the floor, gesturing to the door and leading me away. "I'm sorry. You know I miss you, I just-"

"I know," he cuts me off, pulling away and grabbing my duffle bag. "Let's go," As he leads me out, I turn my head and find one of my paintings up on the wall. Mike smiles, nudging my arm, but he grabs me and pulls me out faster. "I hung it up, I always do. Gotta brag about your talent."

We get into Mike’s cruiser and he heads off to the hospital, silence falling over us. He doesn’t know what to say to me and I’m too worried that if I speak, then I’ll never be able to stop crying. I squeeze my eyes shut and let my head fall onto the window, staring at the passing sights that I know so well. But then my mind wanders back to Spencer and how he must be feeling right now. Can he feel anything? Is he still in surgery? Is he still mad at me? Does he even want me here? The last time I saw Spencer, he was snarling and hissing at me and he hasn’t texted me at all since he left for this case. I made the wrong decision. He doesn’t want me here. I shouldn’t have come.

My hands fly up to cover my face as a new wave of tears fall down my cheeks. “He’s mad at me.”

"What? Amelia, what are you talking about?”

"Me and Spencer," I hiccup, pressing the heels of my hands into my eyes. "I met the BAU team and Dave recognized me and I recognized him and I ran out because I didn’t want him to say anything. But I haven't told Spencer anything yet because I'm scared he'll hate me and he was so mad at me because I left so quickly and I was such a shitty person to his friends and he’s not gonna wanna see me-"

"Oh, my gosh, Amelia, breathe. Of course he'll wanna see you. He's in recovery and he's been through a lot and he's gonna need your support," Mike pulls into the hospital entrance and it's the first time since Penelope called me that I've felt any type of relief. "Come on, we're here.”

I hop out of the car and it takes everything in me to not break into a sprint to get inside the hospital as fast as possible. So I wipe my cheeks and watch Mike grab my duffle bag and carry it inside, trailing far too slowly behind him. Mike signs us into the hospital and I don't even bother to put on my visitor sticker, I just let Mike hold it as he leads me into an elevator. My heart is pounding against my chest and my hands are shaking beyond control, but I can't stop either of those things. Not until I see Spencer breathing.

The elevator jerks to a halt and the doors slide open, my senses filling with the nauseating smell of bleach. My eyes search frantically for any sign of Spencer or the team, and I’m looking for what seems like absolutely forever. But when I see Penelope stepping out of a room, I sigh of relief. It takes her just a second to spot us at the end of the hallway, raising her hand to give us a wave. She points inside the room beside her and that's all I need to breeze past Mike and sprint down the hallway and into Spencer’s room.

I've clearly just interrupted Spencer's and Alex's conversation, but no part of me cares. Spencer is laying down in the bed, his neck wrapped in gauze, his eyes half-closed as he struggles to stay awake. But his eyes widen when he sees me and he starts to try and sit up, his hands pushing against the bed. "Amelia," he breathes out, his voice hoarse, face softening and tears pooling in his eyes.

I move swiftly past Alex and to the side of the bed, leaning over to hug him as softly as I can. His arms wrap tightly around my waist and he buries his face in my neck, prompting me to squeeze his shoulders just a bit more. I hear the door to the room close and I assume Alex left to give us privacy.

"What are you doing here?" Spencer whispers with a quivering voice, hands grasping at my sweatshirt. "You- how?"

"Penelope called me," I pull away from his embrace and kneel on the tiny bed, moving as close as I can to him without tugging on any wires. He looks relatively okay, despite the gauze covering his gunshot wound. He just looks tired. Absolutely exhausted and worn down with bags under his eyes and pale skin. He looks like he does, sometimes, after he wakes up. I place my hands on his cold cheeks, brushing my thumbs against his skin. “You told me you’d always be careful, Spencer. And I told you to be safe and to come home in one piece.”

"I’m still in one piece,” Spencer’s eyebrows raise and a smile attempts to show on his face, “just now with stitches in my neck.”

I rest my forehead against Spencer’s, both our eyelids fluttering closed and relishing in this split second of peace. My heart is pounding in my chest and my emotions, yet again, just come pouring out. I’ve spent hours not knowing anything about how Spencer was doing. I didn’t know if he was out of surgery or even if he was alive. It was terrifying and it really made me come to terms with my feelings for him. I thought I was content being on my own and just having meaningless relationships with guys, but I always knew Spencer was different. I knew there was something special about him from the beginning. I quickly realized that I rely on him more than I should and that I don’t think I’d be able to live without him.

“Spence,” I whisper, my breath hitting his face and a soft sigh falls from his lips, “I love you so much.” Spencer lets out a puff of air from his nose and I start to feel his tears falling onto my hands. My eyes fly open and I lift my head, wiping away his tears. “You don’t have to say it back right now. I just had to tell you now. I was so scared on the way here.”

Spencer raises his hand and places it on top of mine, giving me a tired smile. “I do, Lia. I love you. You have no idea how much I needed to hear that.” He moves his hand from mine and trails it down to my waist, trying to draw me closer. “I love you.” 

I scoot just a little bit closer to him, looking down again to make sure I’m not pulling on any wires or tubes. But on my journey to finding Spencer’s eyes again, my eyes lock on the gauze wrapped around his throat and the tiny spot of red in the side of it. I reach my hand out and let my fingers dance across his jawline, locking our eyes to check for any type of indication that he is hurting from my touch. "I'm not hurting you, am I?"

"No, not at all," Spencer murmurs, his eyelids fluttering under my touch and his breathing starting to slow.

"Why don't you just lay back down? It'll make me feel better," I laugh, placing my hands on his shoulders and guiding him gently back down to the pillows. "Do you need anything?"

"No, I'm just-" Spencer sighs, reaching for one of my hands, "I'm really tired. You don't even know what this case has been like."

I brush his hair off his forehead, earning a small smile from him. He continues to melt into my embrace, sinking further and further into this incredibly uncomfortable bed. "Yeah, I'm sure you're exhausted, sweetheart,” he hums in response, finally giving in and letting his eyes close all the way, pressing his hand into my back again to keep me close. "You should get some sleep, Spence," when I try to slip off the bed to give him some space, his hand grips onto my sweater as he tries to keep my body against his. His eyes fly open in panic and he tries to sit up again. "Hey, hey, what's wrong?"

"Don't go," he begs with teary eyes, "I-I can’t be alone. You don't know what happened before."

“Okay,” I give him a comforting smile as I move my hand to the back of his head, guiding him back down to the pillows once more. I’ve seen him after cases, a lot of which he told me were challenging and taxing. I’ve seen him shed some tears and let down his guard down on the odd occasion that his emotions were really pent up. But this is so different than those times. Right now, he’s broken and scared and looks like a kicked puppy. I hate seeing him like this. He’s usually so strong, walking with his head held high, even if he’s anxious and trying to shrink into himself. This is heartbreaking to see. "What happened?" I brush my hands over his cheeks once more, his eyes starting to flutter once more. 

He breathes heavily for a moment, gulping as he nuzzles his cheek into my hand. "On the case, we figured out that there were a bunch of dirty cops working under the sheriff. And when they found out that I didn't die when I got shot, the main unsub showed up to try and shoot me. So Garcia had to get me in a wheelchair to get me outside and she pulled the fire alarm. Then the unsub paid off a nurse to try and give me medication that I'm allergic to and he had a gun and he tried to shoot me too and so Garcia had to shoot him-"

"Spencer, hey,” I stop him when he starts speaking all in one breath, “baby, breathe." He nods in the tiniest bit, scrunching up his nose and he fends off more tears. "Your team caught him, right? I'm right here, okay? You're gonna be okay, nothing's gonna happen. Just focus on yourself and on recovering."

"I just," he opens his eyes again and lets a few tears fall, "I don't wanna be alone right now."

I wipe those fresh tears and lean down to press my lips to his forehead. He lets out a shaky breath. "You won't be alone. I'm gonna be right here, I'm not going anywhere. I'm just gonna grab my bag from the sheriff and then I'm gonna come right back, okay? I won't even leave the doorway, I promise."

Spencer looks incredibly hesitant, but he nods anyway. "Okay, yeah. Just don’t leave."

"It'll be just a minute," I give him the sweetest smile I can muster up at the moment, planting one more kiss on his forehead before crawling off the bed. Like I promised, I never leave Spencer's line of sight and stand right in the doorway. Alex, Penelope, and Mike are all talking right across the hallway, and they look up when the door opens. I ask for my bag and let Mike know that I’ll be staying for a while and that I will say goodbye before I head home, then close the door behind me.

“Doing okay, sweet face?" I toss my bag aside and sit on the edge of the bed once more. He seems to relax with every step closer to him, and when I place my hand on his leg, he relaxes completely.

"Considering I got shot in the neck and then almost shot again twice after that?" Spencer sasses, making me snort out a laugh. “I’m okay, I guess.”

"You're ridiculous,” I scoot away once more to try and grab my bag, but Spencer grips my arm and tugs me closer to him.

"Can you come lay with me?" Spencer begs.

I glance around his bed and at the array of wires he’s connected to. It was hard enough to stay away from them when I was just sitting beside him. Laying down is gonna be significantly harder. "I don't wanna hurt you or pull on any wires.”

"You won't," Spencer insists, shifting himself over so there's room for me to squeeze beside him on his uninjured side. "Please?"

"You should be resting," I counter, but reach to unlace my shoes nonetheless. “It’s been a long day for you.”

"I don't want to," Spencer pouts, but his body betrays him as he lets out a roaring yawn, his face turning into a grimace at the pressure on his neck. 

"Fine,” I fetch my laptop from my backpack and then slide until the ridiculously thin blanket. “You’re lucky you’re girlfriend isn’t a technophobe or else you’d be very bored right now.” I roll a table over the bed and set my laptop down, moving my gaze back to Spencer’s drooping eyes. He fights to stay awake, forcing his eyelids open every time they start closing. “What do you wanna watch, dove?”

"Can we watch a Christmas movie?" He requests, resting his cheek against the top of my head. I almost speak up to tell him that this position will probably hurt his neck, but I don’t want to ruin his comfortable position, especially if it’ll lull him to sleep.

"Sure," I open up a totally legal website and search up The Santa Clause, pressing play and then relaxing into Spencer. I’m not entirely sure why he wants to watch a Christmas movie, of all things, but I don’t question it. I just let out a yawn of my own and rub my eyes, feeling the exhaustion start to set in.

"You should get some sleep too," Spencer whispers. "I'm sure you didn't sleep a lot," I hum as a lame response, feeling his hands intertwining with mine. "As long as you're here then I'll be fine. And if you sleep then I'm more likely to fall asleep too.”

"No statistics for why that is?" I quip, glancing up at him with a smile.

"I'm in the hospital, give me a break," Spencer chuckles and he cranes his neck to kiss my forehead. "Just go to sleep. I love you.” 

My heart pounds against my chest as he says those beloved words again, and I only manage to whisper my own proclamation of love before I drift off. 

///

I’m woken up by Spencer shifting around beside me, and my senses are awoken by soft grunts and whispered words of frustration. I force my eyes open and look up at Spencer. "What's wrong? Are you okay?”

"Sorry, sorry," Spencer whispers, and I find that he's holding a jello cup, "just couldn't get this open, the oximeter is in the way," I take the cup from his hand and pull off the top, handing it back to him. "Thank you. And I'm sorry I woke you. You should go back to sleep because you’re-“

"No, it's okay. I shouldn't sleep for too long anyway," I look to the table and find my laptop is now closed and an untouched tray of food is beside it, aside from the missing jello cup. "Sweetheart, you need to eat. You're not gonna get better if you don't eat to get your strength back.”

"I feel fine," Spencer responds, shoving a spoonful of jello in his mouth. “And I am eating. See? Jello.”

I roll my eyes at him, sliding off the bed and moving the table away. "You should eat more than jello. I know it’s your favorite but it’s all sugar and you need more than that," Spencer keeps his gaze down on his jello, avoiding eye contact with me while I lecture him on a topic he definitely knows way more about than me. "I just want you to get better so you can get home, okay? I'm sure you don't wanna be in the hospital for much longer and you'd rather be at home, right?"

"Hospital food is gross," Spencer sighs, stabbing his spoon in the jello. "I've never liked it.”

I sit on the side of the bed and cross my legs under me, leaning over him, pushing his messy curls out of his face. "I know it sucks, but you've gotta eat. But if it makes you feel any better, I think you look much better now that you've gotten some sleep.”

Spencer gives me a small smile, raising his eyebrows. "Are you implying I looked bad yesterday?"

"Yesterday, you looked like you got shot. Today, you look like you're tired and you've got gauze around your neck.”

"I guess that's an improvement," Spencer shrugs and then shoves another spoonful of jello in his mouth. I guess I’ll have to go scour the hospital for more jello, especially if that’s the only thing Spencer will eat.

"I know I said you look a little better but did getting some sleep help?" Spencer continues to keep his gaze down on his cup of jello. "Are you in any pain? Do you want me to get a nurse to up your painkillers?"

"No!" Spencer blurts out, but he seems to retract back into himself right after speaking, his eyes locking on his jello. "No, just- I'm fine, I don't need it."

I furrow my eyebrows, bringing my fingers under his chin, lifting his gaze. "I'm just trying to help you, dove. I don't want you to be in pain or uncomfortable."

"I'm okay, really, I am," Spencer tells me yet again. "I mean, I've got stitches in my neck and I wanna be in my own bed but I'm okay."

"Alright," I give in far too easily. It's not worth arguing with a boy in a hospital bed. "Eat your disgusting jello."

Spencer scoffs as I drop my hand from his chin, crawling off the bed and stretching out my tensed up muscles. "I don't understand how you don't like jello."

"It's gross, Spencer. The texture is weird and it makes me uncomfortable. It's the same reason I don't like tomatoes- the texture."

"You don't like jello or tomatoes. I'm not sure this is gonna work out between us," Spencer jokes, taking a big spoonful of jello and shoving it in his mouth. "Mm, amazing."

"Gross.”

I see Spencer's eyes travel over my shoulder and then he smiles in the most adorable way, his eyes becoming five shades brighter. "Hi, guys."

I turn my head and find Spencer's team coming into the room. I plaster on the most genuine, authentic, sweet smile I can. I'm sure they're all a bit wary of me since my first impression inevitably left a bad taste in my mouth, but I know and I’m sure they all know that now isn’t the time to be hostile towards. Spencer needs as much support as he can get. I deserve hostility and side swipes for how I acted but not right now.

"Hey there, kid," Morgan smiles, reaching down to pat Spencer’s leg over the blanket. "How're you feeling?"

I turn my head back to Spencer with a soft smile and see that he's already looking back at me. "I'm okay. Thanks for coming. How's Garcia doing?"

"She's shaken up, understandably," JJ sighs, her hands tucked away in her pockets. "She's sitting in the hallway."

I turn back to Spencer, resisting the urge to brush his hair back again, and get on my feet again.. "I'm gonna go talk to her, just for a minute. Are you gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine. Go ahead.” 

I give the rest of the team one more smile for good measure and then leave the room, hurrying down the hallway and avoiding running nurses. Sure enough, I find Penelope sitting on a bench beside the elevators, typing away on a laptop. If she notices my presence then she doesn’t acknowledge me. She just continues to move her fingers at lightning speed. "Hi," I say softly, tearing her attention away from the keyboard and to me.

When her gaze meets mine, I can see how distraught she is. Her eyes are bloodshot and she has tear streaks in her makeup with black smudges where winged eyeliner used to be. I can’t blame for being like this though. Penelope doesn't shoot people. Penelope sits behind a desk with her stuffed animals to protect her and her colorful outfits to cheer her up. She's not out in the field with a gun and bullet proof vest, chasing serial killers. She’s not a fighter, she is the epitome of a lover.

"Oh," she slams her laptop shut, scooting over, giving me room to sit down, "hi, Amelia. How's Boy Wonder?"

I resist the urge to laugh at the adorable nickname that I plan on using against Spencer when he’s feeling better. “He’s doing good, Pen. I think he got some sleep and he’s eating jello and Spencer physically can’t be sad when he’s eating jello. He’s okay.”

"I shot someone, Amelia," she bursts out, throwing her hands up to cover her face and bursting into a new wave of tears. "Did you know that? A nurse tried to shoot Spencer and I shot him instead and, oh god, why did I do that?"

"Penelope, you saved his life," I scoop Penelope into a hug and tuck her head under my chin, the same way I do to Spencer when he’s upset, and the same way I do to my brothers and sisters when they are crying. "I know it's hard and shooting a gun is really scary but you saved Spencer's life. You protected him from a killer, someone who would take him away from you, and me, and the team forever. I’m sure it was really hard and really scary, but you saved Spencer’s life today."

Penelope looks up at me, her lips in a pout as she sniffles relentlessly. "You're good at this. You- I really like you. I know I've told you this but I like you."

"I know, P," I laugh, reaching forward to wipe her tears and cleaning off her smudged eyeliner. "I'm a protector. That's the way I grew up. I'm-" I let out a sigh and drop my hand, "you did a background check on me so you know why."

Penelope's eyes widen as she suddenly remembers the background check, and now she’s the one dragging me into a hug. "Oh my god, oh my god, I'm so, so, so, so sorry about that. Rossi made me, he's-"

"He's your boss, you told me," I murmur. "I'm not happy about it but it's whatever. I, um, like I told you, I haven't told Spencer yet but I know I'll have to soon."

"I just-" Penelope pulls away and puts her hands on my cheeks, "you're so pure and innocent and beautiful. You've got a good heart and you're kind and loving and capable of love and I'm just, I'm glad you became one of the good eggs and not one of the bad eggs."

I scoff out a laugh. "You mean bad eggs with tattoos and piercings?"

Penelope gasps, pressing her hand to her chest in surprise. "No, no. You're not bad for having tattoos and piercings. I mean, bad as in the people we hunt every day. The people we put away aren't capable of love in any way at all. But you, you clearly are. We've seen killers who have tattoos of their victims and cult tattoos and swastikas but you have strawberries and turtles and cute things. You're not a bag egg. You're good for Spencer, and you're good for me too so be my best friend, please, and give me another hug."

I laugh and try to make it as convincing as possible, happily wrapping my arms around her shoulders again. We sit in silence for a few moments, enjoying each other's company and getting to breathe sighs of relief for the first time in hours. "I'm gonna say it again. Thank you for saving Spencer."

"As much as I hate guns, I'd protect my family any day," Penelope wipes her cheeks once more and then stands, adjusting her skirt.  

I follow suit, standing and picking up Penelope’s laptop. "Let's go back to Spencer, okay? He's a little wary of being in the hospital and having all his best friends there is gonna help."

Penelope holds my hand as we walk down the hallway to Spencer’s room, our hands swinging between us in the most cliche way possible. But my pace slows significantly when we get to the door and I watch the team interact with Spencer, making him laugh and bringing out his beautiful smile. A pout comes to my face.

"I don't think the team likes me very much, not after I made such a scene in the bullpen," I suddenly admit. "I don't blame them. I made myself seem very suspicious, and, you know, I'm technically a criminal, but-"

"They're really nice people, Amelia," she tells me softly. "All we want is Spencer happy, and you make him happy. That's all we care about, whether you're spray painting a brick wall in the middle of the night or not."

I let out a laugh, my voice echoing off the walls. "Wow, thank you, P. I appreciate it."

"I've decided I'm obsessed with you. Come hang by the BAU all the time. Braid my hair more."

///

SPENCER

Waking up next to Amelia is the most amazing experience. She is the only woman I’ve ever slept in the same bed with and I waited thirty years for the right woman. Her face being the first thing I see when I open my eyes in the morning is ethereal. It lets me know that my day is going to be perfect, even if my days will be like my next few weeks, stuck in my house while I'm on leave from my injury.

But waking up next to my beautiful girlfriend is how I wish I could start every single day. I'm usually awake before her and I get to watch her sleep, brushing her hair out of her face and listening to her hum when our legs intertwine and trace my pointer finger over her tattoos. I didn't think that my heart could pound so fast just by laying under a blanket with another human being. But then I realized that what I'm feeling is love. I'm madly in love with this girl and I can't stop how hard I'm falling, not that I would want to stop.

Amelia decided that she would stay with me at my apartment for a while to take care of me when I returned home from Texas. She was happy to take the role of my caregiver, especially if it means we get six weeks to ourselves in my apartment. So the second we got back to Virginia, Amelia packed a bag and situated herself right next to me in bed.

Nothing is out of the ordinary when I wake up first this morning, my neck stiff from the uncomfortable position I rolled into sometime during the night. My eyes linger over to the peaceful angel beside me, and I can't help the smile that comes to my face. Her cheek is pressed against the pillow and her lips are parted, her hair fanned out against the sheets. She's drowning in an oversized tee-shirt and her butterfly necklace is hanging loosely around her neck. She looks exhausted, that's for sure, but she's been busy taking care of me in the last few days. I have no intention of waking her up but my neck is sore and I need to move around before it starts to hurt too badly.

I shuffle around and try to be as quiet and still as possible, but I make a movement that’s too quick and it sends a shock of pain up my neck. A hiss falls out of my mouth before I can think to hold it in and in an instant, Amelia is awake.

"Are you okay, Spence?" I hear Amelia's squeaky morning voice and then her hand is reaching for me blindly, fingers batting at my chest before she rests it there, her head still pressed into the pillow.

"I'm fine," I tell her when I settle back against my pillow, placing my hand atop hers to calm her down. "Just wasn’t in a comfortable position," Amelia hums and doesn't even bother to open her eyes as she scoots closer to me, moving her head to share my pillow with me. It brings a smile to my face and I bring my free hand up to brush the hair off her face, allowing the sunlight to illuminate her cheekbone. Sleep calls me back to its grasp but I can’t get myself to close my eyes and stop admiring Amelia’s beauty.

"You're staring," Amelia murmurs. "Anybody ever tell you that's not polite?"

"You're beautiful," I whisper, bringing a small smile to her lips. She tries to suppress it but she fails, scrunching up her nose, “and cute," I correct myself now, trailing my fingers down her arm until I get to her hand, intertwining our fingers. "Are you hungry?"

"A little bit," Amelia's eyes finally flutter open and she stares up at me. She lets her smile shine through, craning her neck to press a kiss to my jaw. "Want some breakfast?"

"Yes, please.”

I purposely don’t try to climb out of bed yet and watch Amelia get up first. My cheeks turn bright red when her tee-shirt rides up and gives me a perfect view of her undies. And I can swear that Amelia knows I’m looking because once she’s steady on her feet, she reaches up to the ceiling and stretches herself as tall as she can. When she settles back on her heels, she twists around and smirks. “You’re still staring.” 

The red tint of my cheeks don’t get lighter as I push myself out of bed, following Amelia when she scurries towards the kitchen. “And you’re still beautiful.”

Amelia’s giggles reverberate off the wall when we get into the kitchen. I become fully convinced that she caught me staring at her butt when the first thing she does is stretch up to the ceiling again. She never does that. I stare shamelessly now, and Amelia doesn’t give me another smirk before she starts pulling out ingredients for pancakes. I stand right beside her and pull out the bowl, perfectly measuring every ingredient and adding it to the bowl.

"Shouldn't I be the one doing most of the work?" Amelia sasses as I pour batter onto the skillet. "You're the one with the gunshot wound.”

"I'm capable of making pancakes," I nudge her hip when I lean over her for a spoon, and she slides behind me and rests her head against my back. “We should eat in bed.”

"Hey," she whispers, and I feel her pressing kisses against my clothed back, "guess what?"

I play along, mimicking her mischievous tone. "What?"

"I love you.” She sounds so sweet when she says those words and every time she does, another brick from my wall gets beat down and leaves a gaping hole, making my vulnerability shine through. And as the days pass, I become more and more okay with being vulnerable around the woman I love.

So I let a smile come to my face and let myself melt into Anelia’s embrace, my skin burning every time her lips press against my shirt. "I love you too.”

We swiftly finish cooking and then carry our plates back to the bedroom, settling under the duvet again. I lean against the headboard while Amelia sits at the foot of the bed, way too far away for my liking. But she sits with her legs straight out and her toes touch my calf and it makes the distance a little more bearable. 

I don’t really notice the way that Amelia goes completely silent because I’m so hungry that I’m scarfing down my pancakes. I see her awkward glances around the room but I don’t think anything of them. Not until she sets her fork down on her plate. Her pancakes remain untouched.

I furrow my eyebrows at her, slowly placing my own fork down. “Lia? You okay?” She nods her head, her gaze dropping down to her plate. She picks up her fork again, stabbing the top pancakes once or twice and then putting it back down. “Amelia?” 

"Yeah,” she answers quickly, quietly. She starts to nod her head at nothing, jabbing her fork completely into her stack of pancakes. “Yeah, yeah, I’m totally fine. I just-“ she wiggles her hips and then clears her throat, “yeah, I, well,” she takes one more agonizing pause and then speaks again, “my dad is a serial killer.”

It's an odd thing to blurt out, that's for sure. I freeze where I am- mouth open and hands by my sides and my breath caught in my throat. Amelia’s father is a serial killer? How could I not see this? This is what I’m trained to do. But the unknown details of Amelia’s father start to loom over me and the tension starts to build the longer I don’t say anything. And I’m sure my silence doesn’t help Amelia get the courage to say anything else. She just keeps her eyes on her plate and doesn’t dare to look up from it. But I can't even think of a good response. Not a what? or excuse me? or huh? because which of those fit this situation?

"He married my mom straight out of high school and they had me and then my little brother," she's speaking so quietly that I barely hear her. Amelia starts stabbing her pancakes as she speaks, clearly as a distraction. "Apparently, after my brother was born, he started killing these random women. I was told that he killed because he wanted another girl instead of a boy, but what kind of a reason is that to kill random women?”

“Damian Kelsey.” The name slips out of my mouth unconsciously. “He shot victims of opportunity and then put the symbol for female on their foreheads with blood. I studied him in school.”

“Yep,” Amelia nods and she already reaches her hands up to wipe her cheeks, “that’s Dad.” 

“Well,” I gauge Amelia’s reaction to my voice and I debate if I should finish my thought, and when she doesn’t say anything new, I decide to, “that means I learned about you, too. Damian Kelsey was-“ Amelia starts nodding, “horribly abusive to his family.” 

“He beat the shit out of me for my whole childhood. I can’t remember a time when he wasn’t drunk and screaming at me and my mom and shoving us against walls and threatening us with knives and guns. I didn’t even go to school. I just hid in my room all day and hoped he wouldn’t come upstairs.” Amelia hunches over and puts her head in her hands. “Then my brother came along and suddenly, it all got so much worse. I started shielding him from the beatings and I started hearing my mom screaming at night from her bedroom. It was so awful. But I kept telling myself that I had to stick through it so I could protect Cody.”

“Cody.” 

"Cody," she whispers, almost in confirmation. It’s as if she hasn’t said his name in a long time and needed confirmation that, yes, he was a real person. She keeps her head down but moves her arms, staring down at the abundance of permanent ink on her arms. I catch sight of her lips starting to wobble and a few tears wetting her Starry Night. "He was really smart. He loved the stars and the planets. He used to beg me to sneak out to get him astronomy books from the library down the street. You would’ve loved him. He was so young but so smart. He wanted to be an astronaut.” 

I reach forward and pull her plate of pancakes off her lap, getting them completely out of the way. She takes this as an invitation to crawl into my lap, which it was, and curls up against my chest, gently tucking her head into my neck. I’m not sure what to say to her in this moment. I want to help her to make her feel better but I know the details of this case and how horrifically it ended and knowing that my amazing, beautiful, positive girlfriend was the girl who’s father I wrote a ten page research paper on makes it so much worse. 

I remember learning about the Damian Kelsey case in my classes and grimacing at the details of what happened to his wife and children. And now, I’ll never be able to think of this case ever again. It hurts me to know that Amelia went through that, which is an incredibly selfish thought. Amelia lived through it but I have the privilege of only learning about it. So I do what I can to comfort her, which ends up to just be forehead kisses and a tight embrace as I try to form words.

"My mom got pregnant again, a few years after Cody was born. And I remember the days after my mom told us as being the best of my childhood. My dad was sober and everyone seemed happy and we even ate dinner in the dining room all together. We never did that,” she pauses and slides her hands around my waist, pressing her body completely against mine. I hold her as tight as I can. “But then my mom went to the doctor and found out she was having another girl and it all got so much worse. Dad came home from the doctor screaming and me and Cody hid in the closet for hours upon hours. And this went on for months and as my mom got closer to her due date, the abuse just got so much worse-“ 

"Amelia, you don't have to tell me this," I close my eyes and try to ignore the way her body is trembling in my embrace and how her tears are soaking the collar of my shirt. “I already know what happened and-“

"I do," she insists shakily. “One day, Cody begged me to get him a new book from the library. He was asking me to read him a book about Jupiter while we look up at the stars and I kept telling him no because Dad was drunk but he was relentless. So I eventually gave up and climbed out the window and went to get him some books.” 

Amelia lifts her head from my neck and presses her hands to her face before I can see her tear stained cheeks. She breathes deeply in sync with my breaths, her nose scrunching up as she falls deep into her memory. If she wasn’t so distraught, maybe I’d let myself acknowledge how adorable she looks when she scrunches her nose like that.

“By the time I got back, they were dead. My dad dragged them to the greenhouse and shot them. He shot my six year old brother and my mother who was nine months pregnant and two weeks away from her due date. He just left them there to bleed out.” 

“I know,” Amelia doesn’t seem comforted whatsoever by me already knowing about this case, otherwise known as her childhood. It doesn’t make her breathe easier and it doesn’t stop the tears from streaming down her cheeks.

“So I called the police and eventually the FBI came and I met Gideon and Dave. They promised that they would catch my dad and eventually, they did. And that’s why,” Anelia looks at me for the first time since she started talking, her eyes wide and bloodshot, “Dave recognized me when I went to the BAU. But I didn't want you to find out about this until I was ready to tell you and I thought Dave would just blurt it out, so I tried to run away.”

"It's okay, Lia,” I finally reach forward and start wiping away her tears, watching her eyelids flutter closed. She seems to find a moment of tranquility in the midst of this horrifying story, and I let my mind wander for a moment. I’m the one who can provide these calm moments for her? Seriously? But I don’t let my mind drift off too far and I jolt myself back to reality. “I’m not mad about you leaving like that anymore. I understand. It’s fine, I promise.” Amelia smiles just the tiniest bit, leaning her cheek into my hand and almost purring with pleasure. But she manages to collect herself and continue where she left off.

"Gideon and Dave came and spent two weeks searching for my dad. And in that time, I spent it sleeping in the police station because I didn't have anywhere else to go. But Dave was so sweet and he'd bring me food and tell me nice stories to get my mind off of the situation. I just always remembered him because he was so amazing to me and I guess he remembered me too. But at the station, I met Mike, who was the sheriff you just worked with in Texas. He wasn't sheriff at the time but he was really nice to me and brought my food and checked up on me. But after the BAU caught my dad, I was put into foster care.” 

I know that foster care is not the best place to be. I’ve seen the negative effects of foster care for far too many years and I know that not being placed in a good home makes for a tough childhood- one that Amelia just admitted to having. I find myself staring down at Amelia and remembering all the times she has smiled and radiated sunshine and picked me up when I was down. Did she manage to come out of foster care strong or is she insanely good at hiding her dark feelings? 

"I spent a year going in and then running away from five horrible and abusive foster care homes across the country. It was horrible and I got abused just as badly as I did at home with my dad. I just kept running away because nobody was listening and nobody cared and I didn’t wanna take the abuse. And then when I was eleven, I got too fed up with being abused, so I ran away again. My fifth foster home was in Oklahoma and I got all the way back to the police station in Texas. I met up with Mike, he called Child Services, and he took me in. And I stayed there until I was eighteen and I went off to college, and then I moved here.” 

She goes quiet after that, bringing her hands up to her cheeks and wiping her tears. The silence swells in my ears. And no matter how hard I make my brain work to figure out what the hell I should say to make her feel better, I just malfunction. I see my girlfriend crying in my arms and suddenly I have no idea what to do. She always knows what to do for me and I’m failing her right now.

“I'm sorry, Spencer,” Amelia whispers from behind her hands. “I'm sorry I never told you. I've never told anyone before and I always refer to my foster parents as my parents so I don't go around telling people my dad was a killer and my family was just two of his many victims and-“

"Shh, shh," I finally get myself to speak, “Lia, I’m not mad. I understand why you wouldn’t wanna tell me.”

"And I felt so guilty about how I acted when I met your team. They must hate me for how I acted.”

"They don't hate you," I insist, pulling her hands away from her face so I can see her. She’s still pouting and no matter how many times I wipe her cheeks, her face doesn’t lift. "They don't hate you one bit, I know I don’t.”

"Yeah, well, you told me that you love me for the first time so of course you don't hate me," Amelia murmurs, flopping over and pressing her face into my neck. 

I course my fingers through her hair, earning the quietest mewl from Amelia, her eyelids fluttering. The act seems to calm her down enough to slow her breathing, and to allow her grip on my shirt to loosen. Yet again, I’m struggling for the words to say that will comfort her even more. Just playing with her hair isn’t going to help her feel better for longer than a few seconds. But my eyes sweep across my bedroom, illuminated by the rising sun, and I land on Amelia’s backpack in the corner. It’s covered in an array of different colors and specks of glitter, and it surfaces a memory.

"There was a painting in the station that I thought had your signature on it. That really was yours, wasn’t it?"

A smile comes to Amelia’s face for the first time since we woke up. "Yeah, I saw it when I was at the station too. I send Mike artwork all the time for him to hang up at home or in his station." 

"Hey,” I tuck my fingers under Amelia’s chin, bringing her gaze back to mine. Her eyes are glassy and she’s still pouting. “I love you. I don’t want you to think that my opinion of you has changed, because it hasn’t. I love you just as much, if not more, than I did yesterday.”

"Thank you for saying that. I love you too.”

"Is there anything else you want to tell me?" I intend for this question to calm Amelia’s anxiety and show her that she can confide in me about anything, but then a bashful smile comes to her face and my eyebrows furrow.

“I mean, while I’m confessing things,” she lets out a tense laugh and I almost let out a sigh of relief when I notice her starting to calm down again. "So it’s not nearly as bad as my childhood, but, you know, you’re an FBI agent so you might not enjoy this.”

My eyes widen at her. “Excuse me?” 

"Well I’m not a criminal but-"

"This is not promising!”

"Alright! Alright!” She lets out a genuine laugh for the first time. “I’ve been arrested for illegal street art. A few times.” 

"Are you serious?" Amelia lets out a roaring laugh, tossing her head back in the most utterly stunning way. She is almost completely oblivious to my shock, and if she isn’t oblivious, she doesn’t seem to care. "How many times counts as a few?"

"Six," she blurts out. "But now I've got an FBI agent on my side!"

"That doesn’t make you exempt from getting arrested!" I shake my head at her but I couldn’t care less about this revelation. Honestly, I’m not surprised. Amelia has a rebellious nature at times and I would expect that after her childhood that has no freedom, she would want to enjoy her newfound adult freedom- even if it means getting arrested for doing graffiti.

Amelia’s laughter dies down and she brings the lightened mood down with it. Her face drops and she slowly unravels herself from my embrace, crawling a few feet away and pulling her knees to her chest. I watch her shut herself off from me, leaning her forehead against her knees.

She’s embarrassed and ashamed of the story she just told me. I can only imagine that she feels worse about it since it has basically been forced out of her. I can tell that she wasn’t going to tell me so soon but after Rossi recognized her, she knew that it would only be a matter of time before he let something slip. I feel infinitely bad for Amelia. But there’s not much I can say to her to make her feel better. 

I’ve spent years working with victims and family members of serial killers and I’ve spent those years figuring out the right things to say to comfort them. But this isn’t the right situation and Amelia isn’t the right person to use basic lines like it’s not your fault and everything will be okay. That’s not the kind of encouragement she needs. She needs reassurance that I’m not mad that she didn’t tell me about her childhood and that I still love her regardless.

I love her. I love Amelia. What an amazing feeling.

I lock eyes on her tiny figure, curled up at the foot of the bed. Amelia’s shoulders occasionally jolt in the exact same way they do when she cries. Reaching out and dragging her back into my arms seems far too abrasive. I go with the next best option for comfort- honesty.

"So," I stretch out my legs, almost as a silent way to invite Amelia in. But I keep my gaze off of her and look down at my hands. "My life story doesn't quite compare to yours but, well, my dad left me and my mom when I was really young. My mom has schizophrenia and he couldn't deal with her episodes anymore, so he abandoned us. He just- he wrote a note and left it for me to find and got the hell out," Amelia looks up at me with her tear stained cheeks, lips parted and her pretty eyes wide. "So I spent most of my childhood being bullied in the most horrible ways, and my mom's episodes were so bad that she barely noticed.”

I’m not scared to tell Amelia. Maybe it’s because I know that her childhood is far worse than mine or maybe it’s just because I’m comfortable around Amelia. I hate talking about my childhood with anyone at all. This is the only time in my life that I’ve felt comfortable while sharing the story of getting tied to a flagpole and being ignored by my mother and abandoned by my father. I know that Amelia won’t judge me and I know she won’t use this information against me. She’ll listen and tell me she loves me and we’ll move on. She’s amazing like that. 

"And so when I was eighteen, I had her admitted to a mental facility because I couldn't take care of her anymore. She's been in a facility in Vegas ever since. I barely get to see her because I work so much but I write her letters all the time," I take a breath and run my fingers through my hair. Amelia finally looks up at me with tears in her eyes, slowly unraveling herself and wiping the tears away from her cheeks. But as she’s opening up, I’m starting to close off, letting my thoughts run wild as I recall all the worst moments in my life. "Schizophrenia is genetic, did you know that? My mom could’ve passed it on to me. I mean, schizophrenic breaks happen in your early twenties but-"

"You're thirty," Amelia whispers so softly that I barely even hear her. "You're not in your early twenties.”

"I know," I look down at my hands, trying to be strong and fend off the tears that pool up in my eyes, “but I'm still scared. I love my job and I love the life I live. I love you," a smile breaks through on her face at this revelation, her lips quivering. "I don't want that to go away because I inherited something I can’t control.”

"It won't," she whispers, shaking her head. "I won't.” Amelia reaches for me, sitting up on her knees with every intent to come closer again. But I shake my head back at her and hold out a hand, silently telling her to stop.

"There's more," There’s always more. Her face softens, almost like she's disappointed at this. And I don't make a joke of it like she made a joke out of her arrests, because it's not a joke.

I pull at my hair because I don't want to tell her, but she's been transparent with me, so I need to do the same. Amelia is suddenly in front of me, pulling my hands out of my hair, intertwining our fingers gently. She brings our enlaced hands up and presses kisses to my knuckles, holding them in her lap, encouraging me to go on. Amelia gives me a soft smile, but I can't look at her face. I don't have it in me to face her with this incredibly embarrassing information. "A while ago-“ my voice is shakier than I expected it to be, "a couple years ago, I got kidnapped by an unsub. Tobias Hankel. JJ and I split up when we shouldn't have and the unsub knocked me out and tied me up.” 

Amelia squeezes my hands, her thumbs rubbing against my knuckles. "You don't have to tell me," she whispers, leaning in close. “I know we’re sharing but if this is too much then I can wait for-“

I squeeze my eyes shut and fend off all of the images that resurface in my brain. "I do. I need to tell you,” I insist. "He tied me up and he tortured me and he made me pick which innocent people he would kill and he made me watch him kill them. And he-" I shutter, hanging my head in shame, "he forced me to take drugs. He injected me with dilaudid, it's a really strong painkiller. Then he made me overdose and I-I actually died for a few minutes. The team saved me after but-“ I let out a sigh, pulling my hands away from Amelia’s and covering my face. “But I got addicted, Amelia. I took drugs from the unsub when he got killed and I got addicted. I did dilaudid for months and I couldn't stop. I lashed out at the team and I shut everyone out, it was so horrible.”

"Oh, Spencer," Amelia exhales, leaning forward to hug me. But she's hugging me gently, and I can't tell if it's because of my injury or because of what I've just told her. She’s holding me like I’m a porcelain doll that could break if she squeezes too tight. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that.”

"I'm clean, I promise," that's the next thing I say. It has to be. I can't mislead her into thinking I'm still an addict. I can’t let her think that she’s dating some junkie. I need her to know that I’m a responsible federal agent who won’t go near drugs anymore. Amelia needs to know that I will love her without distraction and that I will stay clean. 

"How long?" Amelia drags her nails against my back, her lips brushing against my neck, and I tighten my arms around her waist.

"Six years. Almost seven.”

Amelia pulls away suddenly, her eyes widening. "Oh my god, that's why you didn't want painkillers in the hospital. Spencer, I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay. You didn't know. The nurses knew, it's on my chart to not give me narcotics.”

Amelia sighs and brings our hands up to her lips again and presses a long kiss to my knuckles. "I love you so much, okay? You didn't deserve to go through something like that, Spence. You're such," her lips quiver, "you're such a beautiful person on the inside and the outside, and I'm so glad I've met you.”

"Come here," I whisper, pulling my hands out of hers and inviting her into my lap, which she happily crawls into. Her head falls into my chest and I wrap my arms around her, kissing the top of her head. "I don't know where I'd be without you. Lonely, sad, sleeping by myself-"

"Getting coffee alone in the morning," she teases, “still not sure how to use your DVD player, spending Christmas alone, going-“

“Okay, okay, I get it. I didn’t have much of a life outside of my job before I met you.” I scoff, poking her sides and making her squirm around in my arms.

I keep poking her sides, bringing out her beautiful laugh. Amelia collapses backwards and tries to push my hands away, but I quickly flip over and pin her down, continuing to move my fingers across her rib cage. 

“Spencer, stop!” She giggles, tossing her head back as she kicks her legs like a child. “Stop!” I relent, pressing my hands against the bed on either side of her waist, watching her catch her breath. “You’re way too good at that.”

“It’s just one of my many skills.”

Amelia brings her hands up to my cheeks, the pads of her fingers brushing against the stubble that I have yet to shave off. Her face softens and the sparkle return to the blue of her eyes, and any anxiety I had floats out the window. “Thank you.”

“Thank you? For what?”

“For not hating me because of my past.”

“Well, in that case, I guess I should be thanking you too.”

Amelia smiles a real, genuine smile for only the second time since this conversation started. She beams up at me, sprawled out on the bed with her cheeks flushed and a laugh still stuck in her throat. I settle down on top of her, bringing one hand up to brush through her hair. She moves one hand from my face and grabs my wrist, bringing it to her lips so she can kiss my palm. “I love you so much.”

And even though we’ve only been speaking those words aloud for a few days, every time she tells me she loves me, my heart flutters in my chest and my cheeks turn pink. “I love you too.”

Amelia cranes her neck and presses her lips to mine, drawing me closer and closer with every passing second. “I really love you, Spence,” she pulls away with a teasing smile and lets her head fall onto the bed, “but I’m starting to suffocate.”

“Oh, sorry,” I quickly pull myself off of Amelia and bring her up with me but I drag her right back into my arms. Amelia breathes a sigh of relief and collapses against my chest, closing her eyes. And I just hold her to my chest like I’m protecting her from anything else that could come our way. I hold her tighter than I’ve ever held someone before. I miss her again and make sure that it contains all of the love that I’ve had bottled up in my body over the years. And, of course, she lets me fawn over her, not giving it a second thought. So I just keep holding her, tighter and tighter and tighter by the second.

taglist!

@babybloodstonebones​ @blameitonthenight21​ @thematthewgraygube​ @anepiphany​ @goldenalvez​ @reidscardigan​ @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​ @stxrryspencer​ @m0rcia​ @whollytaciturn​ @thegingerfairchild​ @matthewreid​ @shrimpyblog​ @blakes-dictionxry​ @anamelessfacelessnerd​ @gublergirls​ @wonderlandhatter​ @ambitious-but-lazy​ @ellegreenawayapologist​

[doc-pickles]

won’t let no one break your heart (part three)

I was gonna wait another day to post this but the group chat made me post it today so you should thank them.

TW// Implied & Referenced Child Abuse

Two and a half weeks had passed quickly from the day Sadie had her surgery. She’d done well, just as Alex had expected, and was loving staying in the hospital. She had the nurses wrapped around her finger and Jo and him came to visit as often as they could. They’d both decided to keep her there as long as they could, knowing that if she was released she’d end up in a home that wasn’t theirs since they hadn’t been approved to foster yet. But the decision had ended up working out well, giving them time to bond with Sadie and giving her time to heal properly. 

  Molly had been brought by to visit once a few days after Sadie’s surgery, her foster family seemingly nice enough but overwhelmed with three other children at home. The visit had done wonders for both girls and Molly had snuggled herself into Jo’s chest once again, chubby fingers poking at her expanding belly. The three girls laughing and joking together had made Alex happier than he cared to admit, his burdened mind lightening as he watched Jo singing some silly song to them. 

  If he were honest, he wasn’t sleeping well. Something about Cassie and Molly not being in their home induced a sense of anxiety in him, a problem that he’d never before faced. He knew that they weren’t his and Jo’s children, knew that when they did come to stay with them it would only be temporary, but the thought of the two helpless girls going to sleep by themselves every night didn't sit right with him. 

  “Go back to sleep,” Jo’s fingers are in his hair, pulling him out of his daydream as she cuddles up behind him. “Or you can come over here, I wouldn’t say no to that.”

  Alex turns to face Jo, a smirk lighting up his face as his fingers brush against her cheek. As she entered her second trimester, Jo’s hormones had left her nauseousness behind in favor of a higher than normal sex drive. Alex couldn’t complain, he loved this new side of his wife that he got to enjoy, “Mmm was last night not enough to satisfy you?” Jo’s retort was cut off by the doorbell ringing through the house, the sound eliciting a whine from Jo as Alex rolled out of bed, shrugging on his sweatpants and a shirt, “You know this is getting really old, I’m tired of getting interrupted when things get good.”

“Oh quiet, I’ll be back in a minute,” Alex padded down the hallway to the stairs, taking them two at a time in an attempt to get whoever was there out of his hair sooner rather than later. When he opened the door though, Alex was so shocked that he couldn’t form any words. 

  “Your paperwork went through,” Martha Lewis stood on Alex’s doorstep, Molly cuddled into her shoulder. “Until we find another placement for them, she’s all yours. They both are.”

  “Alex? Who’s at the door,” Jo’s voice sounds from the top of the stairs, Alex turning to look at her as he moves to the side. A gasp leaves her, one hand coming to cover her mouth as she stands unmoving from her spot. “Oh my god…”

  “Jo! Jojo, come,” Molly’s small voice is all it takes for Jo to come down the stairs, the little girl practically jumping from Martha’s arms to Jo’s awaiting ones. “Jojo!”

  Jo meets Alex’s eyes over Molly’s shoulder, her eyes shining with tears as she looks up at her husband, “For real? She’s really here? I’m not just having a really vivid dream, right?”

  He nods, looking to Martha again. She gives him a slight nod, handing Alex a small bag and letting the couple know she’d check on them soon. He barely registers her leaving, his eyes trained on Jo and Molly who are already giggling at each other. 

  “Well, now we just have to get your sister here,” Alex’s words bring both girls’ eyes up, green and hazel blinking up at him as he spoke. “For now though, how about waffles?”

  After eating breakfast and taking a bath, Molly was lying in bed with Jo, content as could be while she read a book to her. The few clothes she’d had in her bag were all in desperate need of a wash, so the little girl was dressed in one of Jo’s shirts that hung loosely on her little body. The view was perfect, Alex thought as he stood in the doorway, it was exactly what he’d always pictured for him and Jo. She was cradling her growing stomach, fingers tracing lazy patterns over the curve as she changed her voice for the different characters in the book. Molly’s head was resting on her shoulder, her own fingers tapping out a rhythm on Jo’s belly as she listened intently to the story. It was just missing one thing… 

  “I’m gonna run to the hospital, I shouldn’t be too long,” Alex came out of the bathroom fully dressed, kissing Jo and Molly on the forehead as he made his way out of the room. “I put the carseat in your car, in case you need it while I’m gone.”

  Jo nodded to him, calling out a quick goodbye that Molly echoed before both girls turned back to the book in front of them. The two were so alike, it was almost scary. If it weren’t for her emerald green eyes and pale skin, Alex might think that Molly was really his wife’s child. 

  The drive to the hospital was quick, Alex waving at a few familiar faces as he made his way to the Peds ward. He checked over Sadie’s file quickly before entering the little girls room with a smile, “Hey there kiddo.”

  “Alex! I missed you,” Sadie was clambering across the bed to hug Alex tightly as soon as she saw him, blue eyes glowing brightly as she looked up to him. “You don’t normally come on Saturdays.”

  “You’re right, but I’m here for a special reason. What do you say we get you out of here,” Sadie’s eyes widened as she stared blankly at Alex. “You’re all better, we can get you home today if you want to.”

  Sadie shook her head, Alex staring at the little girl in confusion. He thought for sure she’d be excited at the prospect of getting out of the hospital, “I don’t wanna go home, please don’t make me go home.”

  A heavy sigh left Alex as he began to understand Sadie’s reluctance to leave. She thought she was going home to her dad, not somewhere where she’d be taken care of. Alex and Jo hadn’t told her that she’d be coming to them since they hadn’t officially been approved to foster and didn’t want to get her hopes up. 

  “Hey, you’re not going back home. You get to come home with me,” Sadie looked shocked as she looked at Alex, not understanding his words fully. “You get to come stay with me and Jo and guess what? Molly’s already there waiting for you.”

  “Molly’s at your house?,” Sadie’s face was scrunched up in confusion as she tried to make sense of what Alex was telling her. 

  “Yup and you get to come too. How does that sound,” Alex watched Sadie nervously, as if her saying no would break him in half. 

  Finally after a long pause Sadie nodded, her blue eyes shining with an enthusiasm that Alex hadn’t seen from her before, “Okay, we can get out of here.”

  An hour later Alex had successfully gotten Sadie discharged, the little girl waving at all of the nurses on the Peds floor as she sat on his hip. He didn’t think he’d ever been this happy, Sadie chattering on about everything her and Molly would do when they got home. A small part of Alex hoped that his own child would be a girl so he would be able to hear the laughter and cheerfulness that Molly and Sadie brought with them. 

  He pushed the bittersweet thought to the side as he strapped Sadie into her car seat, not wanting to remember the fact that the girls were only temporary figures in their home. 

  Alex and Sadie arrived home not long after leaving the hospital, the young girl bouncing with excitement as they walked up the front steps. The duo entered the house, Alex calling out for Jo and Molly who appeared at the top of the stairs. Molly was all but glued to Jo’s hip, only making a move to leave when she saw Sadie. She shrieked happily the whole way down the stairs, Jo pasting a small smile on her face as Molly jumped from her arms to envelop her sister in a hug. 

  Seeing the sisters reunite and immediately begin playing with each other confirmed for Alex that they’d made the right decision in keeping the two together. Turning to Jo, he expected to find her just as excited as he was, but instead found her with tears in her eyes as she bit her lip harshly, “Hey, what’s wrong? Both girls are here and they’re gonna stay here until there’s a good home waiting for them.”

  “Somethings wrong with the baby,” Jo finally moved her gaze from her feet up to Alex. She looked terrified, glassy eyes blinking away tears to no avail. “Molly and I were laying in bed and my stomach started cramping. Everything was fine and now it’s not and I-”

  Alex placed his hands on Jo’s shoulders, meeting her eyes in an attempt to calm her down, “Hey hey, it’s okay, take a deep breath. Where’s the pain at?” 

  “It doesn’t hurt, it’s just crampy and it’s right here,” Jo placed Alex’s hand on the side of her stomach, tears falling down her cheeks as she leaned her head against his chest. “I’m such a bad mom, our baby isn’t even here and I suck.”

  “Is that what you felt earlier?,” Alex asked, Jo nodding a yes as a small laugh left him. “Jo, that’s just the baby moving. I can feel it from the outside, that’s a good sign.”

  Jo shook her head, looking back to Alex with a frown, “No there’s something wrong, that’s not just…”

  Her words stop as a particularly hard kick hits Alex’s hand, Jo’s eyes now blown wide as she stares at him in awe. 

  “Jojo, what’re you doing,” Sadie’s voice pulls Jo out of her daze, the observant six year old noticing Alex’s hand on her bump. She places her own tiny hand next to Alex’s, laughing when another kick hits in the same spot. “The baby’s moving! It kicked my hand!”

  A watery laugh left Jo as she realized that Alex was right and the feeling had really just been their baby squirming around inside of her. She grinned up at him, eyes shining with joy, “You know this means Molly felt the baby before you.” “I’ll let her have this one,” Alex laughed, leaning down to kiss Jo.

  +

  There was screaming in the next room, horrible words being tossed around and accusations that held no truth but still hurt to hear. 

  “Don’t you get near those kids!”

  After that, the sound of flesh hitting flesh rung out, a muffled cry following it. The sounds continued like that for a few minutes before silence overtook the house. 

  “That’s what you get you dumb bitch.”

  The sound of glass shattering and a terrified scream sent Alex diving under the covers as he prepared for the worst. He knew when things started breaking that nothing good would follow. 

  “Alex! Alex!”

  Alex sat straight up in bed, sweat drenching his body as he attempted to regulate his ragged breaths. A soft hand settled onto his back, reminding him that he wasn’t a scared kid hiding from his dad anymore. Turning to his left, Alex met Jo’s concerned eyes as her free hand came up to brush his damp hair away from his forehead. 

  “I'm right here babe, it’s okay,” Jo’s soothing voice instantly caked Alex’s hammering heart as he leaned into her embrace. “You’re okay, it’s all okay. It was just a nightmare.”

  He knew why his nightmares had come, knew that walking Sadie and Molly through their troubled realities would inevitably bring his own childhood to the forefront of his mind. Alex hadn’t realized how difficult things would be for him mentally, but Jo had been a great support to him. 

  If they were honest, the three weeks that Sadie and Molly had been with them were tough on all four people in the household. The first few nights that they’d been together, Sadie and Molly had both woken up with nightmares that dragged them to Jo and Alex’s bed. The nightmares had died down, but both of the girls showed signs of emotional distress at the simplest of things that would set them off. 

  Jo had reduced her hours at work to spend more time with the girls, but was struggling keeping up with two rambunctious children while growing one of her own. Alex’s time as Chief was coming to an end, something he was shockingly thankful for since it allowed him to help Jo out with the girls more. Martha still hadn’t found a family willing to take both girls, but even with their challenges Jo and Alex couldn't find it in themselves to complain. 

  “I’m sorry I woke you up,” Alex pressed a kiss into Jo’s hair, one hand running down her back. “I know you haven’t been sleeping well.”

  “I was already up, your son has been using my bladder to practice his soccer skills,” Jo swung her legs off the bed, groaning as she padded to the bathroom. “He must be more Karev than Wilson since he’s already a pain in the ass.”

  Alex couldn’t help but be amazed at how well his wife had adjusted to pregnancy. She never complained about the aches and pains through her changing body, instead informing him how big their son was that week or silently moving his hand to feel the movements that stretched across her stomach. 

  Their son. 

  Alex and Jo had found out just a few days beforehand that they were expecting a little boy. The thought still terrified him, that his son would arrive and he’d find some way to screw him up just as bad as his dad had done for him. He knew that with Jo by his side though, she wouldn’t let him fail in the same ways that his own father had. 

  A quiet knock on their bedroom door pulls Alex out of his thoughts as he moves to find out which little girl is up at midnight looking for him. When he pulls the door open, he’s pleasantly surprised to see both Molly and Sadie waiting for him. 

  “Come here you two, before Jo gets back and sees you,” the girls begin to giggle as Alex picks them up and tucks them into the large bed, both of them ducking underneath the covers as they hear Jo exit the bathroom. 

  “Hmm I guess I should crawl back in bed now,” Jo raises her eyebrows at Alex, who shrugs as he feigns confusion. “I hope my husband didn’t let any sneaky little girls into our bed while I was gone.”

  Jo walked around the bed and pulled back the covers, Sadie and Molly bursting into a fit of giggles as soon as they’d been caught. Jo smirked at them, not being able to hide her excitement about having them both near her, “You can stay, but you gotta make room for me in here. I’ve got a little man here who won’t hesitate to kick you if you get too close.”

  At Jo’s words, Sadie immediately scoots closer to her side, both of her palms splaying across her bump as she settles into the bed. She waits a moment before a kick hits her tiny hand, a laugh coming from her as she looks up to Jo, “He kicked me! Baby brother kicked my hand again!”

  Alex and Jo met each other’s eyes over the girls heads, both of them wearing shocked expressions at the words that Sadie had so casually slipped out. Unfazed by the happenings around her, Sadie curled into Jo, her head resting against her chest. Jo watched as Molly did the same to Alex, her chubby fingers clutching at his shirt as her eyes closed easily. 

  Watching the look on her husband's face, Jo shook her head with a small smirk, “Alexander Karev, absolutely not. We agreed.”

  “I know, I know,” a grin lit up Alex’s face as Sadie’s hand reached up to caress Jo’s cheek, her own hand coming up to instinctively grab the little girl and kiss her palm. “Just thinking…”

  “Well stop, that’s what got me knocked up,” Jo raised her eyebrows at Alex, who struggled to stifle his laugh as Molly burrowed further into his chest. 

[softest-cinnamon-roll]

“I was trying to propose!” + reddie please? :’)

I found this in my inbox and got the perfect idea to go with it! 

read on AO3

* * * * * 

Eddie Kaspbrak was sick. No, not the kind of sick where he could easily take a few pills and get on with his day, oh no, this time he was really sick. From the moment he woke up that morning, Eddie knew something was wrong, and yet he still went about the day as though nothing was wrong.

He was heavily regretting that decision as he boarded the subway home, sweat trickling down his pale face and an excruciating pain in his right side. A few people gave him an odd look as he made his way to an empty seat, and some even pulled their kids away from him as though they would contract some deadly disease from him.

There was no way he looked that bad was there?

Carefully, Eddie slipped his earpods in, picking some soft music to listen to until he reached his stop. As he shifted however, the pain in his side seemed to intensify and he let out a choked gasp, reaching for it. The action earned him a few more stares but he ignored them, too focused on the fact that he felt as though he was going to die with how bad his side hurt.

Luckily, the subway was approaching his stop, and he forced himself up off the seat and he stumbled towards the door. The people waiting to disembark the train at the same stop let him off first, and Eddie slowly made his way to the exit. Thankfully, he thought, his apartment was only a few minutes away from the station and Eddie couldn’t wait to curl up in bed with a hot water bottle and hope it all passed.

Eddie reached the apartment, weaker than he had been all day, tears of pain in his eyes and he tried the door. He frowned when he realised it was locked, which meant that Richie was still at the radio station, probably working late. Great, looks like he was going to have to make himself something to eat.

He never even made it to the kitchen, as he reached the couch, exhaustion took over him and he collapsed, his vision blacking out.

Eddie wasn’t even sure how long he was sleeping for, but when he woke up, the pain was almost too much to bare, and he felt as though he was going to be sick. He never registered the blanket around his body as he lurched from his position in a scramble to get to the bathroom, only to vomit all over the cream rug that was under the coffee table.

“Eds are you- holy shit!” He could hear Richie’s voice, followed by the bang of something being dropped before he was at his side. “Hey- hey woah, easy baby.” Richie’s voice was in his ear, but he felt like he was floating away. “Baby, what’s wrong, talk to me?”

He managed to open his eyes, almost sealed shut with sweat and sleep and he managed to croak out a single word, “H-Hurts.” He barely got the word out before he was sick again, coughing as Richie rubbed his back soothingly.

Richie jumped into action, grabbing his phone and calling 911. Through his pain induced haze, Eddie could make out Richie describing his visible symptoms to the operator on the other side. “Just- send an ambulance. He’s really sick and he needs immediate medical attention!” Another pause. “No- no I can’t ask him because every time he so much as moves, he’s sick everywhere!”

Eddie honestly thought he was going to die, completely in pain, in his boyfriend’s arms. He could barely even talk without bringing up more vomit, which was soon turning to bile at this point as there was nothing left in his stomach. He faintly could hear the ambulance pull up outside and soon enough, multiple people were surrounding him and strapping an oxygen mask around his head.

That was the last thing he remembered before he passed out.

* * * * *

For some reason, Eddie thought that when he regained consciousness, he would no longer be in pain, but unfortunately that was not the case. He was laying down on a bed, hooked up to an IV line and nurses were bustling around them.

“Eds, fuck, hey,” Eddie’s attention drifted to Richie, who looked as though he’d been to hell and back. “Hey, easy…you’re going to be fine.”

“What- what’s wrong with me?” He asked, his voice raw with how many times he had thrown up. He relaxed a little as Richie ran his fingers through his hair. “Why am I in so much pain?”

Richie brought his hand to his lips, kissing the skin of his knuckles. “It’s your appendix,” he explained and Eddie almost let out a breath of relief, but Richie continued. “You’re booked in to surgery, they need to get them out as fast as possible…before they burst.”

Surgery. Fuck. Eddie hates surgery. He had only ever been under the knife once before, when he was little and he broke his arm, and he hated it. “Richie-”

“Don’t worry baby, I’m going to be right here okay? Right here. I’m going to leave you. I promise,” Richie’s voice was soft and it was clear he had been crying. The doctor came in just a few seconds later, clipboard in hand.

“Eddie, your awake. That’s good. We’re about to take you in for surgery now.” The doctor smiled and quickly ran through a few questions he had. “Shouldn’t take longer than a few hours, and we’ll keep you in for a few days to make sure you’re recovering.”

Eddie nodded his head, knowing that he had no other choice but to go along with whatever the doctor was doing with him. As the nurses came in to wheel him into the surgery room, he gave Richie one last kiss, keeping his gaze until they were separated by the swinging doors.

The surgeon talked through everything he was doing as the anesthetist prepared the injection. Eddie felt a sharp prick in his hand and the doctor looked down over him, “Count back from ten, and you’ll be out, okay?”

“Ten…nine…eigh-”

Blackness.

* * * * *

This time, when Eddie opened his eyes, the intense pain was gone, and replaced with a little discomfort. By the look of the room, he was in recovery and the operation was over. Thank fuck. He felt a little giddy, thanks to the anesthetic. He really wanted to see Richie. To kiss Richie. God he loved Richie so much.

“We’re going to take you to the ward now Eddie, okay?” The nurse smiled down at him and he nodded his head, giggling.

The nurse wheeled him out of recovery and up to the ward where he would be staying for the next few days whilst he recovered properly. Richie was there waiting for him, and Eddie let out a squeal the second he laid his eyes on him. “Richie! Baby! You’re here!”

A few of the nurses on the ward laughed at how happy he sounded and Richie walked over to them, taking his hand as he was wheeled into his room, “Of course I’m here. I wasn’t going to leave you.”

“Were you worried about me?” Eddie asked, biting his lip, staring at Richie as though he hung the moon. “I almost died.”

Richie blinked, shaking his head, “You did not almost die, but you certainly did scare the living daylights out of me.” He ran his hand through Richie’s hair, kissing his head softly. “But you’re okay, and I’ll be here to take care of you, okay?”

Eddie hummed and settled back into the bed, grinning up at Richie. He couldn’t help it, he was just so in love with him. “Richie-” he started, his words coming out like word vomit. “You wanna know a secret, Richie?” He asked and Richie nodded his head, leaning in closer. “I really don’t like my last name.”

“What?” Richie blinked, tilting his head to the side. “You- why? I love your last name.”

Eddie shook his head again, “Nah, I wanna change it,” he mumbled. “Don’t you wanna know what I wanna change it to?”

Richie chuckled and nodded his head, “Okay, humour me Eddie Spaghetti. What do you wanna change your name to?”

“Tozier.”

Richie blinked, tilting his head to the side, “Eds- what?” he laughed, shaking his head. “You’re doped up baby, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“What-?’ Eddie shook his head. “No- no I do know what I’m saying,” he whispered. “I’m trying to propose to you!”

With another blink, Richie smiled softly, his eyes filling with tears, “If I say yes, will you lay down and rest for me?” He asked. Eddie paused for a moment before nodding his head, realising he was really really tired. “Then yes, I’ll marry you, Eds, but I fully expect a real proposal when you’re feeling up to par. Okay?”

Eddie just grinned, nodding his head. “You got yourself a deal.”

* * * * * 

perma-taglist

@richietoaster @tozier-boy @eds-trashmouth @fucking-reddie @strange-reddie-loser @eds-kas @propertyofthelosersclub @its-stranger-than-you-think @yes-dillman-yes @totaltozier @reddietofall @reddietofight @reddie-to-fight   @reddie-eddie-spaghettie @bitchbrak @reddieways @maximusfraker @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @thejadeazalea @reddie-eddie-spaghetti @halfway-happy353 @ellomello16 @liliemm @tinyarmedtrex @cacti-cool @inthebreadbinwrites @kat-ships-everything @takeourpure @lo-v-ers @mrs-vh @studpuffin @aizeninlefox @reddie-for-anything @trashmouthtozierr @richietoizer @girasol-eddie @bi-bi-richie @honeybeehanlon @mars-14 @reddiesetandgo @marsisaplanetyall @xandertheundead @sedanleystanley @hawkinsbabe @beepbeeprichiellc @stellarbisexual @oldguybones @ripeddiekaspbrak @captainbartholomew @purplepoisonedgem @reddie-to-cryy @pink-psychic @violetreddie @fuzzylogik @queen-sock @appojoos  @moonlightrichie @rreddies @disneyfan567 @annxmatron @lifesucksheres20bucks

[ladyreapermc]

Fic: This isn’t a rom-com 17/17

Author’s notes: So we finally arrived at the last chapter of this fic. I’m really proud of myself for writing something this long and actually getting to the end. I am already planning a sequel and I’d love to hear feedback on this chapter and what you think I could include in the sequel. I also would like to thank everone who stuck around and commented on this. You have no idea how happy you made me. Enjoy this last (for now) chapter!

Summary: Keanu and Lilah meet at the set of John Wick. Rom-com shenanigans ensues

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Wordcount: 3923

Warnings: bad language; smorking, fighting and some angst

Lilah woke up the next morning with the sound of her father’s car pulling up in the driveway. It made her stomach twist into knots, dread filling her chest because she knew there was no way to avoid it now, they would have to have that conversation. She untangled herself from Keanu and it was clear evidence of how exhausted he was because he barely stirred.

She exchanged her PJs for a pair of shorts and the first t-shirt she could find and went down the stairs. Lilah paused just outside the kitchen, listening to her parents talking in hushed voices.

“He’s out of sedation and breathing on his own,” Frank said with a sigh, weariness and fatigue coloring his voice. “I really thought… for a moment there…”

“Don’t,” Alba said her voice breaking a little. “He’s gonna be just fine. He’s strong.”

“I know, I just…” another sigh from her father. “He had a couple of cardiac arrests during surgery. Turns out amphetamines in his blood were reacting badly with one of the medications.”

“Amphetamines?” Alba’s tone was confused. “Like speed?”

“I don’t know what it is exactly, but yes. He’s doing drugs.”

“It’s not speed,” Lilah said walking into the kitchen and making her parents look over in surprise. “It’s probably Adderall.”

“Adderall?” her mom frowned. “Why would he take that?”

“To help him study for some tests. He promised to stop…” Lilah hated to break Jamie’s confidence like this, but they needed the full picture.

“And you believed him?” Frank snorted, his expression almost scornful. “All junkies say that!”

“Jamie’s not a junkie!” Lilah exclaimed. “He just…” she trailed off, at lost of what to say. “Had a lot on his plate and thought he needed a bust.”

“Oh please!” Frank snorted again. “I worked two jobs all through med school and never used drugs to pass my tests! He’s stupid, that’s what he is! And ungrateful! He was given a golden opportunity and just threw that away! Once the board of directors finds out he was on drugs while working for the hospital, that’s it! His career is over!” He slammed his fist on the table, making Alba and Lilah jump. “Stupid, reckless, idiot…”

“Stop!” Lilah shouted, making Frank’s angry gaze shift to her. “Just stop! Jamie’s in the hospital and all you care about is if he’s gonna have a job when all he gets out? How heartless are you?”

“Lilah…” Alba called in gentle warning, but Lilah was too far gone to pay attention. Between the terror of almost losing her brother and all of the soul searching she had been doing the past couple of weeks, hearing her father talking about Jamie like that made something inside of her snap.

“Do you even care about us? Aside from making sure we’re the poster children you can brag about at the country club?” she all but yelled in her father’s face, watching his blue eyes going wide. “Do you wanna know why Jamie was taking Adderall? Because he was working 80 hours a week in a hospital where everyone knew he was your son. He knew every action he took, every misstep he made would come back to you. He was working in a place that anything less than perfect would be unacceptable. I’m surprised he didn’t snap!”

“All there you go again!” Frank scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m the big bad villain because I want my children to succeed. How awful of me.”

“Not a villain. Just an asshole!”

“Dalilah!” Alba’s voice was like a crack of a whip, making her stand to attention with a start. “You will not speak like that under my roof! Especially not to your father.”

Lilah pressed her lips together and crossed her arms over her chest. She hated how her mom always took her father’s side of things.

“No Alba. Let her speak,” Frank said with a sneer. “Maybe that way she can work out through these daddy issues of hers! Because that’s the only reason I can think of for her to crazy enough to date a man old enough to be her father!”

His words made Lilah stumble back and straight into Keanu’s strong chest. He steadied her with gentle hands on her shoulders and she looked up at him, catching the somber expression in his face. She wondered how much he heard.

“And you,” Frank continued, getting to his feet and walking towards Keanu. Lilah made sure to keep herself between both men just in case. “I’ve been trying to figure out if this is some kind of mid-life crisis or if you’re just a creep who prey on naïve young girls.”

“I’m not a fucking girl!” Lilah shouted, making her father gaze snap back at her. “I’m twenty-nine, dad! A damn adult! Completely capable of making my own decisions about who I date or what I want to do with my life!” she declared stepping up at him and Frank actually backed away. “And you don’t get to criticize anyone about dating younger women. Wasn’t mom 21 when you met her? While you were 36? Don’t you think you’re being a little hypocritical?”  She saw her father’s eyes narrowing and the way he swallowed hard as he glanced at his wife. He didn’t have an argument against that. “You don’t get to judge my choice in boyfriends and you certainly do not get to bully me into being ashamed of this.”

“Is that what I’m doing?” he snorted, arms crossed over his chest.

“It’s what you always do!” she pointed out. “Darling, don’t you think that skirt is a little too small? You don’t want boys to think you’re easy, do you?” she pitched her tone lower, mimicking her father’s voice. “Baby, I’m sure creative writing classes are interesting, but what are you gonna use that for? Be smart about what you spend your money on. Film school? Are you out of your mind? Grow up! You need a real career!”

She could see her father’s eyes widening as she threw his own words back at him. Lilah always wondered if he even noticed how much they hurt. From the corner her eye, she saw Alba staring at them, her expression just as horrified.

“Truth is I do have tons of daddy issues. Jamie too,” Lilah said, her voice returning to normal. “Because you spent all of our lives making us feel worthless unless we were doing exactly what you wanted. You made us feel like unless we were your perfect children, you would never love us. I became a nearly pathological people-pleaser and perfectionist, while Jamie kept pushing himself so hard he felt his only choice was to take drugs so he wouldn’t disappoint you. So, congratulations! You did a great job fucking up your kids.” Lilah turned her back on her father, heading towards the door. “Oh, not that you care because it’s not a career you’d approve, but I got in film school. Starting next year, I’ll be getting a master's degree in screenwriting.”

She walked out the door, without a second look to her parents, but she felt Keanu following her like a silent shadow all the way back to her bedroom. She felt weirdly numb after that shouting match. All the words that had been stuck on her chest for so long finally out there. She dropped on the edge of her bed, staring unseeingly at her own hands.

“Are you ok?” Keanu asked, tone soft and gentle. He was kneeling in front of her, trying to catch her gaze. “Talk to me, please.”

“I don’t know,” she finally replied with a shaky breath. “I think I went too far. I overreacted and…”

“Don’t do that,” Keanu asked, caressing her cheek with his thumb. “You have all the right to be upset. Always. It doesn’t matter the reason; doesn’t matter if they don’t understand it or if they wouldn’t react the same way. It doesn’t make your feelings any less valid, okay?”

And those words hit Lilah in a corner of her heart that had been shoving all the hurt and pain of having her feelings invalidated and reprehended by people who were supposed to love her unconditionally, including herself. Lilah swallowed around the lump on her throat and hugged him tightly, hiding her face in his chest. Keanu maneuvered her until she was sitting on his lap and pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head and mumbling soothing words as he held her through it all.

She didn’t know how long she stayed like that, but after a while, Lilah’s tears finally stopped flowing and she just stayed cuddled in Keanu’s lap, letting him embrace her, keep her safe, away from the harsh reality of her brother being in the hospital or the epic fight she just had with her father. In his arms, none of that existed.

“Can I ask something?” Keanu started, voice low and gentle and Lilah nodded against his chest. “You’re really gonna go? To NYFA, I mean?”

“Yeah,” she replied, looking up at him. “I got the money and you were right; it is my dream. I’m tired of pushing it aside.”

“I’m very happy for you,” he smiled wide, kissing her forehead and Lilah grinned, some of the tightness in her chest loosening a bit. “But just so you know, if you decided to take that job at Oxford, I’d be happy for you too. I just want you to do what is best for you.”

“I know,” she replied, meeting his lips for a kiss as relief washed over her. It was good to know that Keanu would be supportive of her choice either way. “Thank you.”

There was a short knock on her door and Lilah got up to open it. She found her mother outside, her eyes red and puffy, she had been crying just like Lilah herself had.

“I’m going to see you brother. Are you coming?”

“Yeah. Just give me a moment to change?”

Her mother nodded and stepped away, letting Lilah close the door. She turned to Keanu and he just gave her a soft, understanding smile, still on his spot on the floor.

“Go. You need some time alone with your mom.”

“Thank you,” Lilah sighed, bending down for one last kiss before quickly changing clothes and meeting her mother by the car.

Most of the drive to the hospital was made in awkward silence, her mother staring straight ahead, shoulders and arms tense almost like a statue as she drove.

“Mãe (mom)…” Lilah started once they pulled the car to a stop at the visitor’s parking lot of the hospital. She just couldn’t take the silence anymore. “Desculpa (I’m sorry).”

“Não, amor. Eu que deveria pedir desculpas. Eu nunca soube (No, darling. I should be the one to apologize. I never knew) …” Alba choked up in her words, tears springing in her eyes. “Eu nunca soube que você se sentia assim. Nós te amamos, não importa o que você faça ou quem você namore. Eu sei que seu pai às vezes age como se isso não fosse verdade, mas é. Eu prometo (I never knew you felt like this. We love you, no matter what you do or who you date. I know sometimes your father acts like that isn’t true, but it is. I promise).”

“Eu sei (I know),” Lilah sighed, rubbing her face. “Mas saber e sentir são coisas bens diferentes (but knowing and feeling are very different thins).” Alba sighed too and pulled her into a hug.

“Vai ficar tudo bem. Jamie vai ficar bem e nós vamos encontrar um jeito de consertar tudo isso. Todos nós. (It’s gonna be ok. Jamie is going to be fine and we’re gonna find a way to fix everything. All of us).”

As Lilah stepped out of the car, she really wished she could find a way to believe her mom, but after everything that had happened in the last couple of days, being ok seemed like a very distant reality. She kept quiet and followed Alba through the hospital and to the ICU room where Jamie was being kept for observation.

The sight of her brother all hooked into tubes and wires looking small and frail was so jarring it made her freeze at the door. Lilah had always seen Jamie as a force of nature, unstoppable to the point of being annoying at times. But right here, in that hospital bed, under the harsh lights of the room, he looked anything but that.

“You’re just gonna stand there?” he asked, voice low and raspy, surprising Lilah. She knew he was out of the respirator, but she hadn’t been aware he was already talking.

“No, of course not!” she walked in, standing by the side of his bed, unsure of what to do, where to touch. “How are you?”

“I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck,” he joked weakly, cracking a smile. Lilah snorted. Only Jamie would make such a terrible joke at such a time. “So, I hear you’ve got yourself a sugar daddy? Some famous old fart?”

“Seriously?” Lilah rolled her eyes, glancing at her mom, who just rolled her eyes too. “He’s neither an old fart or my sugar daddy. He’s just older and my boyfriend.”

“I wanna meet him. See if he’s good enough for you,” Jamie said, his eyes fluttering closed. Lilah could only imagine how much effort it took for him to stay awake to chat with them.

“You will. When you get out of here,” she said with a smile. “For now, just get better, ok?” Lilah pressed a kiss on his forehead and stepped outside to give Jamie and Alba a moment alone.

While she waited, Lilah emailed both NYFA, confirming she would be signing up in January, and Arthur Pierce, politely declining his offer. The action released what was left of the knot of doubt that had taken residence in her chest. Lilah was still terrified of course. It was a lot of changes in a short time. She had no idea where her life was going. But for the first time, she felt that, wherever it was heading, it was on her terms and no one else’s. Or so she hoped.

After visiting Jamie, they headed back home and Lilah made a beeline to her bedroom, expecting to find Keanu there, but to her surprise, the room was empty and his suitcase packed, ready to go. The sight of it made her smile fall. She knew he couldn’t stay, but she didn’t expect him to go so soon.

As she was coming down the stairs to search for Keanu, Lilah saw her father heading towards the kitchen. She went after him, knowing they needed to talk. She wasn’t gonna apologize for what she said, but she knew she had cut him deep and someone needed to take the first step.  

She followed him to the backyard, her heart hitting her throat when she saw Keanu was sitting outside, smoking. Her father loomed over him for a moment, but Keanu seemed unfazed as he looked up at the older man.

“Give me one of those,” Frank said, at last, taking a seat on the lawn chair next to Keanu’s. “It’s been ages since I’ve smoked.”

“Not a good habit to have when you’re a doctor,” Keanu commented, and Lilah thought she heard just a hint of tension as he handed one and the lighter.

“I googled you,” Frank said after he lit his cigarette and returned the lighter to Keanu. “Wanted to know what kind of man my daughter was dating.”

“What did you find?”

“You certainly have been dealt a shitty hand in life,” Frank said, and Keanu snorted.

“I guess that’s one way of putting it,” he said, glancing sideways at the older man.

“This isn’t just some random fling for you, is it?” Frank asked, meeting his gaze.

“I don’t just jump in flights to Miami for random flings, Dr. Bennett. I love your daughter very much,” Keanu replied, his tone almost matter-of-factly and Lilah’s heart lunged in her chest.

“So, you knew about this film school thing?”

“That she got in? yes. That was decided to go I learned at the same time you did.”

“Tell me honestly, can she make it?” Frank asked his tone almost pleading. “I know she thinks everything I do is to control her, but all I ever wanted was to keep her safe. She’s my baby girl. I’m afraid of what the world can do to her. How it can hurt her, break her spirit.”

“Dr. Bennett, I can’t tell you if she’ll make it or not. There’s no way to know,” Keanu started, shifting on his chair so he was facing the other man. “I will tell you this: your daughter is amazing. She’s smart and stubborn and she’s stronger than you think. Tougher than you think. Even if she doesn’t make it, she’ll be fine. It’s not like she doesn’t have a backup plan. Knowing her, she probably already has a backup for the backup.”

“Yeah, that sounds like my Lilah,” Frank said with a chuckle.

“Trust your daughter, Dr. Bennett. You and your wife raised an incredible woman,” Keanu said with a smile and Frank snorted, eyes downcast.

“Didn’t you hear? I screw her up.”

“Only if you hold onto that image of who you wanted your daughter to be, instead of seeing who your daughter is and can be. That woman? She’s breathtaking.”

As Keanu said that, he glanced over at Lilah, catching her soft smile and smiling too. Frank followed his gaze, noticing his daughter was there watching them, before looking back at Keanu with a chuckle.

“How long have you known she was standing there?”

“A while.” Keanu stood up and offered him a hand. “It was very nice to meet you, Dr. Bennett.”

“You too, Keanu.” Frank stood up too and shook his hand.

With one final nod, Keanu walked up to Lilah. He paused in front of her, hand on her cheek, just watching her. There was such a sadness in his gaze that she felt her chest tightening.

“I’ll give you two some privacy,” he said, pressing a kiss on her lips and walking away before Lilah could say anything else. She thought about following him, but there was another man in her life she needed to focus her attention on right now.

Lilah took the seat Keanu had vacated, hugging herself and keeping her eyes away from Frank. Part due to hurt. Part due to fear. She wasn’t sure what to expect just yet.

“He’s sneaky, that one,” Frank commented, stubbing the remains of his cigarette and Lilah nodded. “But wise and very much in love with you.”

“I’m very much in love with him too,” Lilah said, glancing at her father to gather his reaction but he just sighed.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Frank said, his voice breaking, eyes welling up. “I never wanted to hurt you I was just trying…”

“I know, dad,” Lilah sighed too, struggling to talk around the lump in her throat. “But Keanu’s right. You need to trust me, let me make my own choices. If I screw up, then I’ll face the consequences. That’s how life works.”

“I know,” he replied with a shaky breath. “If I could turn back the time…”

“We can’t,” Lilah interrupted, taking his hand and squeezing it slightly. “We can try to do better from now on.” Frank nodded, drying his eyes on his sleeves.  

“He’s right, you know?” he said with a soft smile. “You already are an incredible woman and I’m very proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” she replied, letting him pull her into a hug.

Lilah knew this wound between them was far from healed, but they made steps in the right direction today and that was definitely something. She stayed wrapped in her dad’s embrace for a while longer before they both headed back inside. Frank stayed in the kitchen to help Alba, while Lilah headed to her room, finding Keanu sitting on her bed, all ready to go.

“How are things with your dad?” he asked before Lilah could even begin to speak.

“It’s… not good, but better, I guess,” she admitted, take a seat next to him and letting Keanu entwine their fingers together. “We’ll need to work on it. I need to work on it. Just another thing for the list.”

Lilah let out a long sigh. She didn’t even recognize her life at this point. Not after most of what she thought she was and wanted changed and Lilah didn’t even know if for better or worse just yet. Only time would tell. There was one thing Lilah knew, though.

“You can’t stay, can you?” she wasn’t just speaking about Miami.

“No,” Keanu sighed, voice so low Lilah barely heard it. “You’ll never be sure if you made these choices because of yourself or me if I stay.”

She let out a shaky, strangled breath, tears prickling her eyes again. She hated the fact that he was right. Would Lilah even have considered film school if she hadn’t met him? Would it even have been such a hard choice between NYFA and Oxford if Keanu wasn’t in her life? After everything, Lilah wanted to do this for herself and be sure she was doing it for herself.

“You know, if this was a rom-com, right now would be the part we make big declarations of love and kiss and everything would be magically alright,” Lilah pointed out, her tone a little bittersweet.

“This isn’t a rom-com,” Keanu replied, bringing her knuckles to his lips. “There’s no magic fix, Lil. Despite what The Beatles said, sometimes, love is not all you need.”

“I know,” her voice was cracking, tears making it hard for her to get the words out. “I don’t wanna do this.”

“Me either,” his own voice was rough and choked. When Lilah dared to look his way, Keanu had his head bent low, hair shielding his face. “But you’re figuring yourself, figuring your life and I’m afraid that if I stay, I’ll get in your way because I’ll want to help. Right now, if I could, I’d try to protect you from all harm. It took everything of me not to intervene when you were arguing with your parents. I still didn’t manage to stay out of it completely. I just wasn’t built that way. You need to know that it was all you. Your decisions, your mistakes, your wins… I can’t be part of it. Not yet anyway.”

“K…” her voice died as Lilah didn’t know what to say to that and Keanu let out a small snort, glancing her way, his eyes reddish.

“I like how you call me, K. Everyone else goes for Ke.”

“I’m not everyone else,” Lilah replied, and he smiled, that same sad smile from before.

“No. You’re not,” Keanu pulled her into his lap, hugging her tight, face buried on her neck. Lilah wrapped her arms around him just as tightly, nose in his hair, breathing in deep.

“What time is your flight?” she mumbled against his hair.

“In four hours,” he replied, and Lilah felt his warm breath tickling her skin.

“Can you stay until then?” She asked and Keanu tilted his head up, meeting her eyes.

“I’d like that,” he said, letting Lilah seal his lips with a kiss.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxthe end (for now at least)xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Tag list (give a shout to be added or removed)

@toomanystoriessolittletime @meetmeinthematinee @theolsdalova @krazycags01 @beyond-antares @cumberbatchbaps @sgt-morgan @futuristic-imbecile @howtoruin-someones-perfect-day @a-really-bi-girl @fanficsrusz @nonsensicalobsessions @poisonedjoinery @soarocks @kindainlovewithkeanu @ficsnroses @weird-civilian​

[fairie-gothmother]

In The Shadow of Starlight, Part 4: Mental Bullet Wounds

Part 1: The Fall

Part 2: Negotiating With Gods

Part 3: The Nature of the Beast

"Ah. Fuck!" Octavia was getting frustrated. Of course, she had to get shot in the most awkward spot possible. No matter how she twisted, she just couldn't get a good view of the bullet wound in her shoulder. It didn't help that this medical room didn't have the proper equipment for self surgery. She hadn’t had the time to order supplies, so all she had to extract bullets was a knife and a tiny wall mounted mirror.

She pulled her shirt down further off the shoulder and tried yet another angle to get a better look. Seeing the reflection of her back, she was reminded why she kept herself covered at all times. Nothing but ridged, pink scar tissue covered her entire back and extended beneath the collar of the shirt down both arms. It was disgusting. She hated it. Hated the way it looked, the way it felt, and the memories it brought up.

She saw tears welling up in the eyes of her reflection. What a sorry sight. She looked up and blinked away the tears, refusing to let them fall.

"Oh," came a voice in the room.

Octavia's stomach felt like it dropped to her ankles. She quickly covered up and turned to see Troy Calypso standing just inside the medical room, holding his side. He said, "I was going to tell you to stitch this up for me, but it looks like you could use a hand yourself."

"No, I got it," she snapped. Of course this guy didn't have the courtesy to fucking knock.

"Hm. That's funny. 'Cause from here, it looks like you're just making it worse by blindly digging around with that knife."

As much as she hated to admit it, he was right, but her self consciousness held her back. She tried so hard to make sure no one ever knew about her deepest shame, she couldn't let her defenses down that easily.

"You don't understand," she said, looking anywhere but the other man in the room.

"You really don't think the one armed cyborg would understand? C'mon. Let me take out that bullet so you can get started on sewing me up."

His gaze had focused on her, expression mixed somewhere between impatience, concern, and something else she couldn't put her finger on. Pulling her shirt down once again off the shoulder, she turned slightly and gestured her head towards her back.

She tensed as Troy crossed the room towards her, feeling her face get redder with each step. She turned facing away from him to give him access to the wound.

"You can use the switchblade on the table. Just push the button to open it," Octavia said.

"I do know how knives work," Troy said wryly. Octavia was about to retort, but the words were forgotten when she felt his fingertips sweep across the bare skin of her back. She shivered involuntarily. She hoped he didn't notice how much his light touch and close proximity was affecting her. To be honest, she didn't even want to admit it herself. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on sitting still.

Octavia couldn't help but flinch when the cool metal blade touched her skin and plunged into the wound.

"Ow! Be careful," Octavia hissed.

She could tell Troy was actually trying to remove the bullet without hurting her, but it was deeper than expected. Her eyes squeezed shut as he dove the tip of the blade further into the hole.

"It would be easier to be careful if you didn't move so much. Hold on. I think I got it." He held her shoulder for stability so he didn't accidentally cut her. He managed to angle the blade behind the tip of the bullet, slowly easing it out. After several long moments passed, he took the knife out and removed the metal object with his hand. Octavia yelped when he yanked it out. She turned to glare at Troy who only grinned and waved the bloody bullet in his hand.

"There. See, I know what I'm doing. Feel better?"

"Yeah," Octavia said. She ignored the heat in her cheeks as she pulled her shirt up over the exposed skin.

When Octavia thought back to when she first met the Calypso, she remembered thinking he was nothing but a monster. Now, she felt almost guilty for feeling that way. She owed him a lot. Not only for removing the bullet embedded in her shoulder but also for saving her life during the raid. She wanted to thank him, but just couldn't find the words to do it.

“Alright, let’s do this.” Troy pulled his tank top off over his head and laid down on the examination table. He beckoned her to come closer. Octavia’s eyes went wide at the implication. Was this how he wanted her to thank him? He pointed to a cut on the side of his abdomen. “Don’t tell anybody I got tagged by a tink. Little shit came out of nowhere.”

Oh, right… What was wrong with her? She had to get a grip. Embarrassed from misinterpreting things, she wordlessly began cleaning his injury. She hadn’t felt this vulnerable in a long time. She hated needing help, but she hated her deformed body even more. That was a part of herself that she didn’t share with anyone. It was meant to stay hidden, locked away in the past where no one could reach it.

"So you wanna talk about it?" Troy asked. Octavia was becoming concerned with how well he was able to read her.

"Not really."

He slowly nodded, but didn’t look away from her. Her defenses were cracking under his steady gaze. She didn’t like how transparent he made her feel.

“Do you?” she asked, motioning towards his mechanical arm. It came out a little more aggressive than she meant it to.

Troy was still looking at her, but now as if he was trying to come to some sort of decision. The corner of his mouth twitched. “Touché, smart ass,” he teased.

Octavia was relieved he let that slide. She didn’t have the energy to deal with any more stress. Getting shot during a raid was enough for one day. She absentmindedly stitched up the wound, barely noticing the Calypso watching her as she worked.

“Good as new,” Octavia said, taping a gauze pad over the stitches.

Troy swung his long legs over the side of the examination table and stood. “Finally. I was getting bored. You really need some magazines or something in here,” he said, making his way across the room. You’re welcome, Octavia thought bitterly.

Her annoyance faded when she noticed the Calypso begin to stagger. All the color drained from his face, and his eyes glazed over. “Hey, are you okay?” she asked. Before he reached the door, Troy stumbled backwards into the counter with a loud crash. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he slumped to the floor unconscious.

~~~

Troy gradually regained awareness. He was still in the medical room, lying on an examination table. His skull felt like it would split in two. Involuntarily, he let out a groan.

“You’re awake.” Octavia’s voice came from somewhere behind him. She rushed to his side carrying a tray of herbs and stone tools.

“What… what happened?” Troy asked. He blinked at the lights overhead.

“I was about to ask you the same thing. You passed out,” she said.

Shit. He knew he was getting weaker. He checked the siren marks on his left arm, flexing and rotating his hand. Their usual glow had dimmed to the point where the marks looked like normal tattoos.

“Looks like the energy withdrawals are starting to hit pretty hard. Does anyone else know?”

“No, you’ve only been out for a few minutes. Take this.” Octavia said. She handed him a cup of thick, murky brown liquid that smelled like compost.

“What is it?”

“Chocolate milk. Just drink it.”

Troy turned his nose up at it before gulping it down. It was cold and viscous like slime that quite literally slid down his throat. It tasted like an entire spice rack stewed in swamp sludge. “Gah! C’mon, witch doctor. Why does everything you give me taste like you scooped it out of a toilet?”

After weeks of being teased and belittled for her profession, something in Octavia finally snapped. She coldly replied, “Well, excuse me, your highness. It’s medicine. It isn’t supposed to taste good. I’m an herbalist, not a witch doctor, and not one of your gourmet chefs.” She snatched the cup from Troy’s hands. “You could try showing a little fucking gratitude.” She stormed to the other side of the room slamming her tray on the counter.

A pang of guilt twinged in his gut. The silence lasted uncomfortably long. She had just given him medicine after he collapsed on her floor in a severely vulnerable state. He winced as he swallowed his pride.

“You’re right. Thank you, Vi.”

Octavia turned her head to look at Troy over her shoulder. Her face was flushed a light shade of pink, either still angry from his previous comment or flustered from this uncharacteristic response.

Troy continued, “Guess I owe you one. Thanks to you, Pandora is graced with my fine ass another day.”

“Pff, please. You don’t have an ass,” Octavia said as she eyed him up and down.

“Oh, really? Wanna see for yourself?” He rolled onto his side, put a thumb beneath his waistband, and tugged downward. Octavia yelped and squeezed her eyes closed.

“Don’t you dare!” she shouted.

Troy broke into a fit of laughter. Octavia tried to keep the stern look on her face by tightly pursing her lips together, but she failed and eventually cracked a smile. For the first time, the tension between them lifted. Troy realized that he liked seeing her smile.

The pleasantness of the moment didn’t last long as Troy was struck with another wave of vertigo. He leaned back onto the exam table. “Got any magic toilet water to keep me from keeling over again?”

“I’m not sure. We should talk to Professor Tannis. If there's anyone who knows about siren energy, it's her-”

Her voice faded as Troy’s head reeled again. He pressed his human palm to his temple to keep the room from spinning. He imagined how his followers would react to seeing their omnipotent leader faint. Did he even have followers anymore? Some god he was.

This was the worst his withdrawals have ever been. All his life, Tyreen was right by his side to feed him energy when he needed it, even if she did call him a parasite for asking. That bitch knew he couldn’t survive without her. Banishing him was equivalent to letting him starve to death.

Troy was pulled from his thoughts feeling fingertips graze across his forehead, brushing the hair from his face.

“Did you hit your head? Does it hurt?” Octavia asked. Her delicate fingers were soft and cool on his skin. Her large emerald eyes scanned his face for signs of injury. A few strands of chestnut colored hair fell from her ponytail and framed her heart-shaped face.

A spicy floral scent emitted from her as she leaned over him. Her face was close enough to his that with a simple raise of his chin, he would find out if she tasted as sweet as she smelled.

He caught himself and pushed the traitorous thoughts from his mind. He looked away and swatted her hands off him. “No, it’s fine. Just a little lightheaded.”

Don’t, he scolded himself. She treated all her patients like this, right? She only cared about the health of the God King. Everyone always cared for the God King. Not long ago, he would have crushed every bone in her hand for having the audacity to touch him. No one ever gave a shit before. This was no different.

Troy slipped back into his persona and flashed a cocky grin.

“Besides, look who you’re talking to. Just for the sake of my quality of life though, we should go ahead and get a hold of, uh… crazy scientist lady.”

“Her name is Tannis.”

“That’s the one.”

~~~

Sanctuary. What a spectacular name for such a shithole. Only a handful of people roamed the halls, and Troy swore he saw a claptrap unit chasing a ratch around. He wasn’t sure what he expected Sanctuary to be, but it sure wasn’t this.

Time dragged on while Tannis got situated in the lab. It was entertaining watching her scurry around at first, trying to make sense of the unusual songs she sang to herself. Now Troy was bored, and no one else in the room attempted to make conversation. Curiosity finally got the better of him. “So, Martha.”

“It’s Maya,” the sapphire siren chided.

“Right. I’ve never met another siren other than my sister. What are your powers like?”

The corners of Maya’s mouth turned up into a grin. Surprisingly, she chose to indulge him. “I’m able to phaselock targets and suspend them in another dimension.”

“Whoa, that sounds rad.” He stood back and held his arms out. “Here, do me.”

“I am not going to phaselock you.”

He dropped his arms and pouted. “Aw, come on!”

Tannis lightly whacked him on the arm with her clipboard. “As tempting as it is to start a siren fight club, I’m afraid there are more pressing matters at hand. If you could stand still for a moment-” Tannis poked and prodded at him, occasionally saying things like, “fascinating.” Troy was hyper aware of how close she was to his right side, turning to keep her to his left as much as possible. He jumped when he felt a pinch on his ass. “Interesting,” Tannis said.

Maya helped get things back on track. “Alright. So far we know that Troy can’t absorb the life force from living things like Tyreen can, and she could somehow channel energy to him through touch. Is there anything else we have to work with?”

Troy wished there was. “Other than that, it’s all I’ve got. That’s just one part to my curse. Aside from being a defective siren, I’ve also been cursed with irresistible good looks.”

“Tch. You wish.” A dark blue haired kid scoffed from the back of the lab. She leaned against the wall with her arms crossed. Troy hadn’t noticed her until now.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” he asked, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his tone.

“I’m going to be a siren. An actual siren, not whatever you are. I’d put an end to assholes like you. I don’t know why we’re trying to keep you alive, honestly.”

Maya interrupted, “You’ll have to excuse my apprentice. Ava, stop threatening people with powers you don’t have yet. I said you could watch as long you didn’t cause trouble.”

Ava’s tough girl act dropped. “I know. I’ll behave, promise. Please don’t kick me out.”

What a punk. “Okay, kid. You let me know if that siren thing ever works out for ya.” Troy clicked his tongue and winked at her. She shook with impotent rage, fists clenched at her sides like a child about to throw a tantrum.

Tannis was about to explode in anticipation, eager to start her experiments. “Well, cursed or otherwise, I find your physical attractiveness confusingly repulsive. That being said, I feel you have an important part to play in the coming days. So I’ve prepared several only mildly painful experiments. Now, where to start?”

Tannis was completely in her element, recording Echo logs and bouncing around Troy while he soaked in all the attention. His bask in the spotlight was short lived.

The tests began with the obvious catalyst for siren power, eridium. After trying different delivery methods, Troy got impatient and stupidly licked a chunk of raw eridium. Other than burning his tongue, it had no effect. Next, they attempted to transfer siren energy indirectly. Maya charged an Eridian artifact as a sort of battery for Troy to draw from. Again, no results.

After hours of trial and error, one failure after another, they’d concluded every test.

“I think we have to call it quits,” Maya admitted. She looked tired, wiping the sweat from her brow. “You gave it your best shot, Tannis.”

“How curious. It would seem Troy is a siren in tattoos only,” Tannis said, looking defeated.

Troy was exhausted. “This blows,” he said, sprawled out across the examination table, panting slightly from the exertion. “Don’t mind me, ladies. It’s not like my life depends on it or anything.” Troy caught Ava wearing a shit-eating grin and stuck his tongue out at her.

“I think we may be on the right track,” Tannis circled around the examination table, talking more to herself than to anyone else in the room. “Perhaps Troy’s cybernetics could be modified to include Eridian artifacts into the bio-integration components.”

Troy closed his eyes, grateful for a moment to rest. He had hoped Tannis would at least find a temporary solution to his dependency on Tyreen. He was running off of fumes. It was only a matter of time until his tank ran completely dry.

While he was busy worrying about his own mortality, Troy didn’t notice Tannis absentmindedly extending her hand until she touched his shoulder brace. He jolted from his lamenting. In an instinctual panic, he caught her bare wrist in his human hand.

A familiar flood of power surged through him. He threw his head back, caught in the sudden sensation. Red tendrils entwined his arm with Tannis’s, filling him with the strength his starving body so desperately craved. His siren marks blazed back to life in a brilliant flash of crimson.

Then, he was unable to move, frozen in place. Maya had activated her powers and suspended him in midair. So this was what being phaselocked felt like. His insides burned like the sting of frostbite. His breath caught in his throat, lungs refusing to function. Maya lifted him into the air and tossed him across the room away from Tannis. He yelled as he was sent careening into a counter full of lab equipment.

Maya helped Tannis up from the floor. A distinct blue glow peaked out from beneath one sleeve of her lab coat.

“I thought you could only take from Tyreen!” Maya said, her face drained of color.

Troy held up his left arm observing the intense light of his marks. “I guess it’s any siren.”

Ava pointed to the scientist’s glowing arm. “Tannis? You’re a…”

A siren.