#ill get to those bingos soon hopefully

[neurotonic]

so what's going on in that brilliant mind of yours, doctor p?

If you've been wondering where I've been. I definitely should be drawing anything else right now but...I got dragged back into one of my old interests and I was more than happy to mash that and IEYTD together. It was fun designing all of them to resemble Prism in some way, ehehe.

[cinnamonrusts]

i’ll see you in the village -- 2

parts: 1

This village is nothing that you thought it was going to be. You interact with some locals and Chris does some homework to find where you are when he cannot contact you. (chris redfield x f!reader) (a/n: it’s a long one, bois. thank you for all the love)

                                                            ✧.* ✧.*

As the terrifying sounds echoed through the dilapidated village grew closer to where you stood, your blood ran cold and you reached for your gun but stopped; because, you knew that if you opened fire you might blow your cover. However, whatever created these noises did not sound like a friendly neighborhood pet. Person? Dog? Creature? Whatever it was, it sounded dangerous.

“Come out!” you yell as your head whipped side to side, desperate to get a glance at what it was that was playing this game with you. “Come out!” you scream again, but are only answered with a sharp arrow which hurdled through the air and embedded itself in the wooden fence beside your head. You curse loudly, your life almost ended, and you probably wouldn’t have realized it if it did.

Before you popped off any rounds in retaliation, a strong arm pulled you back from behind. Their rough, dirty palm was pressed firmly against your mouth and they shushed you quietly. The person pulled you into a darkened home and quickly closed the front door that was opened just enough for the two of you to slink through. Your mouth opened to speak once you felt relatively safe from whatever horror lurked in the shadows of the night. “Quiet, girl,” your savior spoke. With the faint moonlight that shined through the boarded up window, you could make out the face of an elderly man and to his right was presumably his wife - who was armed with a double-barreled shotgun and the nose of it pointed at a small hole in the door.

They didn’t explain anything besides telling you that being quiet is the correct thing to do. The same blood-curdling screeches grew closer and thuds on the roof caused you to jump. “Do you have a gun?” he asks and you nod as you place your hand on your hip where it was concealed under your clothing. Sounds of snapping wood from above draw the attention of the wife and she proceeded to pump shells in the general direction of the intruders. One of her shots hit whatever it was and it scurried away. Screams of pain were the last of its noise before the thuds stopped and sounds of it tearing through the front yard verified it was gone.

✧.*

A brief amount of time passed before the two locals spoke. “You’re an outsider,” the woman said as she leaned her firearm on the wall beside the door. “Yes, that is true, but I’m nothing but a traveler from a town far East of here,” you lifted your long skirt to curtsey for the couple, “I’ve come here to spread my fortune telling for all to enjoy.” The man scoffed and shook his head before he took a drink from a dirty mug. “Mother Miranda does not cater well to outsiders,” he burped, “--Especially those with talks of necromancy and fortune telling.” Mother Miranda? Score.

“I promise I have no ill well to you, the locals, or this Mother Miranda that you speak of.” The man scoffed once more but his wife shushed him, “You’re welcome here, dear.” she placed a hand on your shoulder and grinned a gummy smile. “Thank you,” you say and the three of you exchange backstory to your lives, until you try to push for some information about Miranda. “Who is this Mother Miranda?” you ask finally and hope that the tape recorder that is hidden in your waistband had begun to record once you bumped it with your wrist. A glimmer of light sparked in her dark eyes and she walked over to the main wall across the way. She pushed herself onto her toes and reached for a dusty painting of a woman that hung crooked above her head.

“This -- this is our wonderful, Mother Miranda.” she placed it in your palms and you brushed away a thick layer of dust with your thumb. The painting was faded but you could still make out what this woman looked like, and it was identical to the photo that the BSAA showed. Another spot marked off on the mission bingo sheet. “She keeps us safe and has for longer than we have been around.” she continued to praise the blonde. “She does? What about whatever is out there!? Does she keep you safe from that?” Your insult hit a nerve because the man stood from his seat, “How dare you insult our Mother in our home! You will feel her wrath!” he continued to yell, despite hiding away from the thing just outside the door. He proceeded to kick you out of their home and closed the door behind you, then locked it so you couldn’t get back in.

You knocked several times and attempted to apologize, but the same shotgun used to save your life was now pointed at your forehead. When you could feel the sensation of the firearm aimed for you, your hands raised instinctually in the air and you backed away slowly, your eyes never moved from the barrels. Never again would you see this couple.

✧.*

Once again, you found yourself alone in the dark village. Maybe the large castle that loomed over would be a good place to investigate next? You wandered toward the center of the crossroads and your thoughts drifted from subject to subject before being interrupted by the sound of a horse’s gallop. Another villager?! Hopefully they’d be nicer than the last pair. You turned to wait for the horse to approach but were horrified at the site that soon was before you. On the animal’s back was no man or woman, but a grey skinned creature who wielded a burning stake with a charred human remain pierced through the middle. It looked like one of the drawings you found in the old fairytale book your mother read to you when you were a small.

There was no time to scream but just enough to pull your pistol off your hip and shoot into its face. Unlike any human but just like the BOWs you’ve dealt with previously, it took the bullets like a sponge. Instead of wasting any more ammo, you decided on your best bet, and that was to run - run fast. The terrain was unknown but you did your best to go in any direction that was not the same way as your assailant. 

The creature slashed the burning spike around in the air as it tried to hit you with it but you managed to duck and dive each time he did it. Soon, you saw a hope of escape, a line of trees. You continued down your path and once you reached the wooded area, you threw yourself down the only option you could see -- a steep hill and then tumbled down. The horse cried in fear and bucked upward, it wouldn’t allow the hostile creature to chase you any longer.

Your hands covered your head as you bounced off the hard, icy ground. Each hit, bump, and scrape burned through your body but you hoped that at the bottom you’d be safe. When you reached the bottom, you rolled out onto a dirt path and narrowly missed being trampled by a horse drawn carriage. The stallion that carried the wooden neighed loudly as it’s hooves dug into the ground. Your vision was blurred from your trip down the hill and you could barely make out a rather obese face of a man who peeked his head out from behind the curtain of his carriage. 

“My word, I nearly flattened you into a pancake!” he cried as he pulled the fabric back completely. Your breaths were heavy and short as you remained silent, eyes fixated on the Caucasian friendly face. The man encouraged you to enter his wagon and you hesitated to accept but did once you pushed yourself up from the ground. “Unlike those bewitching women who lurk in that castle... I don’t bite!” he giggled. The gentleman introduced himself as “The Duke” and gave you a short tale about his travels in this village. Duke explained that it wasn’t always this way and it was once full of rich life and light, but it’s all different now... “What about you, my lady? What is it that brought our paths to cross one another?” he asked before he blew out a puff of cigar smoke. You coughed several times and waved your arm in the air in an attempt to waft the smoke from the small room. “Well...” you started and then proceeded to tell the imaginary tale that you told the couple previously.

                                                                      ✧.* ✧.* ✧.*

“Dammit!” Chris yelled and slammed the dashboard of the vehicle he was passenger in with his fist. The truck that was to transport Ethan and his deceased wife had been taken off the road and the infant, Rose, was most likely gone or dead. He began to bark orders at his squad in frustration before he came to his senses and took a deep breath. Miranda must’ve been behind all of this... and took Rose. “There,” he pointed at a rugged map of the local area that was taped onto the truck’s wall and turned to Umber Eyes, “Miranda’s village is there, and I bet so is Rose.” 

A female interrupted from the back of the caravan, “Alpha, that information you requested came in.” she brought over a laptop and set it in Chris’s palms. The bright screen in the dark caused Chris to squint as he read through the document. Your BSAA photo was the largest thing on the page and beneath it was the detailed report of your newest mission, the one that brought you to Europe. He gritted his teeth - thoughts of the BSAA sending you on what could be a death mission crossed his mind. Chris reached into the breast pocket of his black overcoat and pulled out his phone, then held down the 1 key to speed dial your cell. It rang several times before informing that there was no voicemail set up. He huffed before he tried several more times. Each call ended the same way and Chris felt anxious.

“Lobo, ping on [Y/N]’s phone and find her location!” he ordered, his voice cracked just the slightest as his anxiety peaked. Lobo nodded, gave his superior a thumbs up and typed away on his laptop. Chris not only was concerned for Ethan and baby Rose, but now your whereabouts plagued his mind. He was confident in your capabilities but he knew how dangerous Miranda and her subordinates could be.

Chris sat in silence with his thoughts as the vehicle turned around and headed in the direction of Miranda’s village. He reached into the same pocket as earlier and pulled out a wrinkled photograph of the two of you. It was from your first mission that the two of you ever went on together. It wasn’t too long ago, maybe three or four years but it felt like a lifetime now. His calloused thumb ran over your smiling face and he hoped that you were okay...

The moment of silence ended, “Alpha, her phone pinged in the same location as Miranda’s village.” Lobo informed as he turned the screen to Chris. A brief moment of relief washed over him but if your phone was there, then where were you? And why weren’t you answering?

Little known to you or Chris -- the cellphone laid in the middle of the dirt road, left behind as you road off in the carriage with the Duke. The screen lit up brightly in the dark air and the generic tune jingled in the stillness of the night. It continued to do this several times as Chris continued to call and worked on pinpointing the pings. On the final ring, a feminine hand reached down from above and picked the phone up. The screen flashed, “CHRIS” over and over. The call was ended by the person, they took the phone firmly in their palm and crushed it with their strength.

Now, there was no way for Chris to communicate with you and someone was now on your tail...

[violetnotez]

Izuku x reader

⤷ Genre: Fluff

⤷ Word Count: 2330+

⤷ Warnings: none!

⤷ Synopsis: You wake up one night to a nightmare, and the only person you want to comfort you is Izuku.

Song Recs: ⤷ Revive-Lione ⤷Graveyard-Halsey ⤷Passion-Mree

This fic is for the @bnhabookclub Bingo Event! Here’s my masterlist to see all my work for this event!

Bingo Slot: Lingering Hugs

Sorry for this being short! I just really wanted to keep it short and fluffy like Izuku

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ

You tossed in your damp sheets, the fabric suffocating as it stuck to your skin.

Damn your brain-it was barely 1 in the morning, and of course you had to wake up, covered in sweat and your heart racing from fear, due to a nightmare.

Your brain relayed the terrible scenes in your mind, your heart picking up pace as each one flashed against your eyes. You tried to push the thoughts away, the skin of your eyes scrunched up tightly like thin rivers cross crossing against your skin.

Somehow the darkness behind your eyelids made your anxiety hitch even more, the walls of your room somehow feeling too small and suffocating.

You knew it was childish to be so scared of a figment if your brain’s imagination-but it felt so real, so terrifying. you flipped the sheets over your head, protecting yourself from any lurking ghouls and demons as your hand swiftly flailed out to grab your phone from the bedside table.

Your hand encased the device, bringing the small contraption quickly under the sheets with you. You cuddled closer to the phone, your eyes squinting from the intense brightness of the screen as you clicked it on.

Your cursed quietly from the intense flash of light, your thumbs unlocking the phone screen and quickly going to your messages.

You felt bad to be texting Izuku so late at night, knowing the poor boy must be tired. He was always studying or training, always working towards his goals yet always refusing to ever sleep. You were always the one to force him to take a nap or actually get a few hours of rest, so you felt guilty for ruining his sleep when he rarely got any.

But the race in your heart and the panic in your mind pushed away that guilt-all you could think of was the comforting embrace of your green haired boyfriend, and his reassuring voice telling you everything would be alright. You desperately craved his positive energy and warm hold, your fingers quickly forming a quick text-

“Are you awake 🥺?”

You sent the message, the little bubble of speech displaying on the screen. You stared at it for a few moments, your brain somehow trying to will Izuku to look a his phone.

You sighed, knowing that that was futile and, well, not possible. You fingers clicked off the messaging app, your tired mind deciding to go into Youtube and watch a few videos, hoping they would lull you back to sleep.

Maybe he would message you back-and hopefully soon.

Even as you clicked on your favorite YouTuber and settled into a comforting old video, your heart was still racing with the fuzzy scenes of your dream. They were gripping your body with fear, making your muscles taut with anxiety and your brain fumbling to stay sane.

Your toes curled in the sheets, scrunching the now hot fabric as you prayed Izuku would text you back soon.

Not too long after you delved into your second video, your screen pop up with a call from Izuku, his name you had given him, “Broccoli Bae💚”, bringing a small smirk to your cheeks. You quickly took the call, bringing the screen to your warm ear.

“Hey ‘Zuku,” you grinned slightly, your heart flooding with ease as you heard Izuku’s calming voice on the other side.

“Hi puppy,” His voice sounded thick with sleep, his tone sounding slightly worried, “ are you okay? Is something wrong?”

Izuku was always fussing over you, making sure you were comfortable, safe and happy. It was heartwarming how much he tried to make sure you were okay, and sometimes you wondered how you were able to land such an amazing guy as Midoriya.

You sighed, shifting slightly under your thick blankets.

“Well, um, I had a bad dream…” you chuckled nervously, feeling embarrassment trickle into your stomach.

Even though you knew Izuku wouldn’t judge you or find you strange for having a nightmare, it still felt silly you had to call him to feel better. Something about Izuku though always calmed your nerves, making you feel so safe and secure. He was your rock, your shield, your home away from home when your life was in turmoil around you.

“A nightmare?” He repeated, his sweet voice awakening slightly from the grogginess. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I’d-rather not..” you smiled softly, the motion evident in your voice. “I just wanted to hear your voice,”

You heard Izuku chuckling nervously, imagining the boy’s adorable blush as he laid in his bed, one of his comfy shirts wrapped around his frame. A pang of want filled your chest, wishing you could crawl yourself out of your bed and into the comforting arms of Izuku’s.

“Oh-oh I’m happy I can make you feel a little better!” He stuttered out, his voice feathery and bright. “It must have been pretty scary if you needed to talk to me…”

He almost said it as an afterthought, as if he was talking aloud to himself and didn’t realize he had spoken it so clearly. You sighed again, brushing a damp piece of hair from your face. Memories flooded into your mind again, making a cold pang of fear attack your chest.

“It-it was,” you gulped, trying to push that fearful feeling down your throat. “Can you stay on the phone? Please? I just need to take my mind off of it-“

You hated how needy and desperate your voice sounded, as if you were pleading to Izuku to stay up with you.

“O-okay, don’t worry, Ill be with you for as long as you need me,” you heard the worry in Izuku’s voice multiply, making his voice soft and warm as he spoke to you so gently.

You began to here a rustling on the over the side of the phone, the faint sound of a door opening and closing swiftly entering the connection.

You cocked a brow, holding the phone closer to your ear-was he walking around?

“Whatcha doing ‘Zuku?” you mumbled into the phone, a nervous chuckle cascading into your ears.

“Nothing!” he immediately stated, a grin forming on your lips.

Izuku was the most terrible liar-ever.

Just as you were about to press your adorably awkward boyfriend for more information, you heard a slight rap on your door, making you jump. Your tired mind immediately reimagined your dream, your blood running cold from the thought.

But that’s when you realized you heard that knock a few seconds after though the phone speaker.

“Izuku-are you-outside my door?” Your heart soared at the thought, your voice full of shock.

Izuku gave a small chuckle, trying his best to stay quiet.

“I’m sorry, I had to come over once you said you had a hard time sleeping, I was hoping I could-“

You instantly flung your sheets off your sticky body, the smile bright against your cheeks as you ran to the door.

Any thought of that evil dream seemed to escape your mind-just the thought of Izuku being sweet enough to break the rules for you made you love him a little more. Midoriya was a good student, but wasn’t the best at following rules. Still, he could get in serious trouble for sneaking out in the middle of the night, and the fact he did that just to make you feel better made you have the intense urge to just wrap him in the biggest hug ever.

Your hand wrapped around the cold doorknob, the door creaking slightly as you were met with a blushing Midoriya. His eyes were bright and cheerful, the white shirt he was wearing crumpled in places and his curly green hair even more unruly than usual.

Even with his sheepish expression and awkward stance, he looked ethereal and protecting, like a knight in shining armor. Just his presence in front of you made your heart swell and your body loosen, as if the dam of fear that was cascading throughout your body was finally quenched and secure. Izuku held the fear at bay inside you,and you couldn’t be more grateful.

When Izuku had decided to come to your room, he was afraid you may be a little angry with him. You were always trying to make sure he stayed out of trouble, which was near impossible with his impulsive nature, but he couldn’t just sit in his room knowing you were overcome with fear. He knew he had to go and comfort you, even if it was just for a few moments, so you could get some well deserved sleep.

Now that Izuku was standing in front of you, all worry of you being angry left this mind. He could only focus on how adorable you looked when you first came from bed, your hair messy and tangled as the over sized shirt you wore pooled around your thighs. You looked so snuggly and warm, he felt embarrassed from the thought of wanting to hold you so badly.

Before he could even utter a word your body instantly collided with his, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders. Izuku felt his blood against his eardrums, his face an unnatural shade of red as you cuddled into his neck, those soft green tresses tickling your forehead.

Izuku felt cool against your warm skin, a welcoming sensation from hiding under your blankets for so long. Your nose snuggled into the crook of his neck, taking in the scent that was so invigorating and intoxicating. It always reminded you of such soothing scents, like fresh linen or the ground after a rainstorm. The taut muscles encasing his arms wrapped around yours, holding you close to his body and making you feel secure. Your body melted into his, the worries of that nightmare doing the same.

Izuku sighed peacefully, his chin resting against the tip of your shoulder.

“You okay angel?” He asked sweetly, the palms of his hands rubbing soothing circles along your back.

It almost felt too good to be true, to have Izuku so close to you, even with his sweet voice gracing your ears. Your arms squeezed him a little tighter, almost like a vice against his scarred skin.

The shock of Izuku so near you mixed with the terrible memories resurfacing through your mind made your chest feel tight and your heart quicken. The fear was somehow growing in your chest again, your hands digging deeper into his skin.

Izuku felt your chest collide against his, the back muscles he was rubbing so tenderly tightening under his palms. A small sniffle emitted from your nose, warm tears trailing down your cheeks.

Izuku held you tighter, your tears staining the rim of his white shirt as you cried out the fear that had been stuck in your chest for so long.

“I-I’m so sorry, I’m not trying-to be- dramatic,” you blubbered out, the tears making it difficult to apologize.

Izuku lovingly kissed the skin on your neck, just under your ear.

“Puppy, you don’t have to apologize-really,” he cooed into your ear. “Just take your time, it’s okay to feel scared, I’m right here-“

He smiled gently as he noticed how his words affected you-you seemed calmer and more still, the muscles on your back and chest not so tight against his limbs. But he could tell you were still really shaken up by that nightmare, and he was more than willing to stay with you for as long as you needed.

“I-I’ll stay with you-for as long as you need me to,” he whispered into your ear, leaving a tingly sensation against your spine, “Is that okay angel? Would you want me to stay with you?”

You brain felt numb, your limbs heavy with lead from the breakdown that had overtaken your body. All you could muster was a quick nod, your chest still heaving slightly from the sobbing.

Izuku smiled gently, a blush creeping into his cheeks. His hands began to softly run downward against your back, his digits trailing lower and lower. Your breath hitched as his fingers hooked against the plush skin of your thighs, raising your legs up around his torso.

Your heart was beating fiercely against your chest as Izuku carried you into your room, shutting the door with his foot.

The feeling of your feet unattached to the sturdy floor made you grip Izuku tighter, a small giggle escaping your stuffy chest.

“You’re way more bold tonight ‘Zuku,” you smiled against his neck, making Izuku’s heart race.

“Well I-I want to make sure you know I’m here for you puppy,” he stuttered, his cheeks bright red with heat as he laid you gently against the bed. “Your my sweet angel, and-and I hate to see you feel so sad.”

You cuddled your tear stain face into the pillow, facing Izuku’s sweet expression. His wide eyes were bright with love, the moonlight shifting through your sheer curtains making him look ethereal, his green hair glowing eerily and his freckles dusted against his cheeks like little galaxies. His scarred digits wrapped against your own, bringing your hand to his lips. He gave your knuckles a chasté kiss, letting your fingers graze against his warm cheecks.

“Can I get you anything puppy? Do you need water? Or maybe some more blankets? I can go to my room and bring some more if you like-“

You gave the boy a grin as he began to start blabbering again, his ideas and suggestions so fast they were beginning to mold to one.

Your hands reached out for Izuku, the digits curling against the collar of his shirt and pulling him gently towards the bed.

You watched his eyes widened in shock, a small, sheepish grin forming against his lips as he realized what you were implying.

“Nope,” you smiled, popping the “p” in your sentence, “I just need you.”

Taggings:

@weebartistinc @orokayagi @leeeah-loooser @bakarinnie @freckledoriya

[official-wayward-keener]

Parkner Bingo Card - Quarantine feat Morgan Stark

To Forgetting to Mute and Love Advice

Morgan is in virtual class while crushing on a friend. Luckily Peter and Harley are staying with her. 

Ao3 Link here

Morgan Stark was an interesting student. Everyone knew that. She had a lot to say and she was really smart. She was a lot like her father, Tony Stark. She had way too many ideas. Her teacher was used to her talking on and on about whatever she was working on. Her classmates didn’t know what to think of the daughter of a dead superhero. Madalyn told her what her classmates said. She knew what they talked about. She was now under quarantine because the whole world was in panic because of some illness and she was in class watching along with her class when it happened. Peter and Harley were staying with Morgan and Pepper during Quarantine because Harley was taking over SI and Peter was taking a break from fighting crime since he didn’t know how his mutation would react to the virus and he rather did not know if he could avoid it. She hadn’t thought about how they might show up in one of the videos. Actually it was Mayday, their daughter who was running in the background. Madalyn was watching as she saw Peter Parker-Keener run behind Morgan before grabbing a two year old who was giggling. Peter seemed to realize he was caught and hurried away as Morgan missed everything that happened behind her. Her classmates were confused by what happened but chalked it up to some weird animation. Morgan wouldn’t be living with a known avenger. Especially with social distancing happening.

~

The next time it happened it was Pepper and Harley who walked behind her as she was answering a question. The conversation was light but words like Mayday and nap time could be heard. Now the class was interested in what was going on but the teacher wasn’t going to let them ask Morgan. So the class was going to have to use the morning before class started to ask her. 

~

Morgan always got on first thing in the morning. Except the morning after Harley and Pepper walked behind her in the morning. She got on right on time and she was talking with someone and had forgotten to mute. The teacher was about to say something when they all heard the other voice.

“Look Morgan, you can’t mess with the web shooters.” The class all watched as Morgan complained that she could make them better. Peter muttered something about being just like her father. Maybe she was just like her father. Her classmates hadn’t met him but they heard the rumors.

“Just because I’m smart and rich doesn’t mean I’m just like dad,” Morgan said.

“Always want to make things better for others. Sounds like Tony,” Peter mocked her. She rolled her eyes.

“Umm.. Miss. Stark… Can you mute yourself?” Her teacher finally asked. Morgan turned to realize that not only was her camera on and that she had entered the call but her microphone was on for once. She apologized and put herself on mute as she shooed Peter away so she could pay attention in class. The rest of the class was boring but everyone was now interested in what was happening at the Stark household. 

~

Morgan Stark got on before class started and was sitting there looking over the reading when James decided to ask her about why Peter and Harley Parker-Keener were living with her. She seemed shocked before she explained that her brothers, and yes she used the word brother which surprised Madalyn, were staying with her and her mom during quarantine since Peter was taking a break and Harley was working with her mom. The family of three had moved in during quarantine though they already had rooms there but her classmates didn’t need to know.

“What is it like knowing Spider-Man and Harley Parker-Keener?” Branden asked her.

“They are pretty normal,” Morgan said.

“They are both H-O-T,” Kenzie said. Morgan looked at her disgusted by the comment.

“Those are my older brothers who are married, might I add,” Morgan reminded Kenzie. 

“Whose the little girl?” Georgia asked.

“Oh that is my niece Mayday. She is two years old and she is a handful. I have to watch her from time to time but it's cool. I enjoy it,” Morgan told them. As if on cue Mayday appeared and asked to sit in Morgan’s lap. Morgan let her as the little toddler cooed at the screen. The teens all awed and talked to Mayday until the teacher showed up. Then everyone muted as the teacher began their lecture. 

~

Mayday began to make more appearances as Morgan would hold her until Peter or Harley showed up. Occasionally Rhodey and Pepper would get her or Happy and May, but normally it was one of her dads. She seemed to smile at the kids as she loved the attention.

“I hope we never go back to in person class,” Madalyn told Morgan when they were on call. Morgan was surprised by that. 

“I figured you would want us to be back sooner,” Morgan said, sounding upset. Madalyn was surprised.

“Why?” Madalyn said.

“Hard to flirt with me or give me your little present if we are on the phone,” Morgan pointed out.

“I can flirt just fine on the phone, but not seeing your pink cheeks does make it harder to know how much it is working,” Madalyn admitted. Morgan ended the call not long after that groaning.

“What’s up?” Peter asked. He happened to be passing her room.

“How did you tell Harley that you were into him?” Morgan asked.

“You mean how did I tell the guy I’m married to that I like him like him,” Peter said. Morgan nodded. “I accidentally told him while on painkillers after having a pole go through me.”

“You are kidding,” Morgan said.

“Nope,” Peter said. “You know who would be the best person to ask.” Morgan didn’t. “Harley because I didn’t remember telling him and he told me the next day that he liked me.” Morgan nodded as she went to go find Harley. Peter sent a heads up text to his husband before letting Pepper know she might want to give Morgan the talk soon.

~

Harley was in the lab. Sometimes he would go down there just to get away but today he seemed to actually be working on a project.

“I have a question,” Morgan said.

“I might have an answer,” Harley told her.

“How did you tell Peter that you liked him and liked him,” Morgan asked.

“Well Peter had told me sort of but I was planning to ask him out. It was kinda the nudge so the next day he was actually awake with no memory of what he told me and I sat down grabbed his hand and asked him what he thought of going out with me. Then we went out the next week,” Harley told her.

“How do you go out while quarantined?” Morgan asked.

“Maybe do a skype date,” Harley suggested. Morgan nodded, hugging Harley before running off to call Madalyn. Peter slipped down as he went behind his husband wrapping his arms around him.

“You know Mayday will be asking those questions someday,” Peter said.

“Don’t remind me,” Harley whined. “I’m not ready to scare off people who want to date my little girl.” Peter laughed as he kissed Harley’s cheek.

“Pepper is already telling Rhodey and trying to figure out who Morgan will be asking out. I give her five days to guess Madalyn with how close they are,” Peter said.

“One day and if I win you will do what I say for a day,” Harley said.

“You are so on Parker,” Peter told him before moving away, sending him a kiss as he left. Harley just smiled thinking about how their little sister had gotten so much older from back when he first met her. He couldn’t imagine Mayday as a teen, but hopefully she wouldn’t grow up too fast on him and Peter. For now he had a sister who was about to go on her first date even if it was virtual because of quarantine. 

[thisbluespirit]

Fic writer interview

I was tagged by @captain-aralias to do this, so here I am:

Name: thisbluespirit.  I previously went by lost_spook and also a very long time ago as vvj5.  (You don’t get my real name, because unfortunately, it’s comparatively uncommon & too easy to find online).

Fandoms: I’m very multi-fannish.  I like the challenge of writing for different fandoms and getting the tone right and so on, and I also love exchanges, which often leads to writing unexpected gifts and treats when somebody’s prompt bites me hard.  As a result, I have quite a ridiculous number of fandoms, but my main ones are probably Doctor Who, Sapphire & Steel, Blake’s 7, Once Upon A Time, Spooks, The Librarians, Adam Adamant Lives! and a lot of very old British TV I love that few others do, like The Shadow of the Tower, the 1968 Dracula, Enemy at the Door, The Power Game and Public Eye and so on.  Recently I fell into the Star Wars Prequels fandom, which was a bit scary but very nice (it’s generally a friendly & very pretty corner of the GFFA) and I definitely want to write some more things for it, and not just Obidala.

Where you post: My fic?  To AO3, and before that (when I was much more mono-fannish) the Doctor Who archive, A Teaspoon and an Open Mind (which we refer to as “Teaspoon” - something that confuses non-DW people).  I once posted three non-DW works to ff.net, which I found so difficult and awkward, I never tried it again, especially not after it later on ate my scene breaks.  (ff.net’s war against scene breaks is apparently eternal and baffling).  Although I used LJ a lot (it was my primary fannish platform for years, and Dreamwidth still is), I was on it for the social and community aspect and find it strange to think of archiving fic there. I only posted it there if it was for a particular comm or meme or challenge being run there. 

Most popular one-shot: By kudos, this is my Yuletide treat where Miss Marple is a genius loci, and by hits, this is my flash ficlet where Miss Marple dusts Dracula.  I write hardly any Miss Marple, but when I die, she’ll be on my fannish tombstone and, at the end of the day, that’s probably a nice way to be remembered!

Most popular multi-chapter: This is impossible to say.  Since I’ve been so ill (for ten years now, much as I hate to say that aloud), I’ve written about 3 multi-chapter works, and only one of them was posted in progress, the others were posted complete.  The rest are very old and are either still only on Teaspoon, or I posted them to AO3 but backdated them, so these just aren’t comparable things.  None of them, being rare fandoms or in OW or backdated Doctor Who works, are popular in any case. The one with the most kudos is a Yuletide fic, The Poison Tree, for Dracula (1968).

Fic you were nervous to post: Lots of them!  The most nerve-wracking are gifts for exchanges, especially if they were serious or shippy, where I have to wait to find out if the recip liked them.  If I’ve written something fun and humorous I tend to know instinctively if it works or not, but when it’s serious, I just feel... terribly stupid and exposed until that comment from the recip, or someone at least, comes at last!

I think, particularly, some of the historical ones and the two Shakespeare ones, understandably, because it would be so easy to go out on a limb and just make a fool of yourself falling off: i love the rose both red and white, (sotT/15th C) his wonders to perform (even though it wasn’t for an exchange- it was a bit outside my usual and I’m still not sure if it really worked) (15th C RPF); movements of the mind (Twelfth Night) and Vigil (Measure For Measure).  The last two proved quite popular-for-Yuletide & I had some of my nicest comments ever on both, though, so obviously I did something right! \o/

How do you choose your titles? Well, either something comes, or I find a poem or song or proverbs quote or I just go dammit and come up with something simple. Remix is easier because you play on the original fic’s title, the fic and your fic, and that always seems to work.

I would worry about this, but I posted a whole bunch of meme fic that I just called “AU Meme: [Character’s Name]” and the summary for each one is “10 AU scenarios for [character] in a Dreamwidth meme” and people read those more than plenty of the others, which does kind of put the whole thing into slightly ironic perspective.

Do you outline? If it’s a long fic, to a certain extent, but only a few notes, or jotting down the ending and so on.  With shorter pieces (which most of mine are), less so, but usually the same things - this scene, or the ending or this line, or a research note or two where needed.

Complete: Number of completed works?  596 on AO3 (599 on my dash, but three are fanvids), but there are more at Teaspoon that I’ve never transferred over.

Do you take prompts?  I write nothing else these days, one way or another, most of the time - bingo squares, random generators, prompt tables, fests, exchanges, writing memes.  I just don’t take them generally, because I am still working on my last writing meme... from April (among other things).  But, yes.  I love prompts.

In progress: 0.  Well, no, actually, I tell a lie, there is one abandoned WIP on Teaspoon, which I started just before I became so ill, a Fifth Doctor crossover with the William Monk & Hester crime series.  Since it is abandoned, though, I don’t think it counts.

Coming soon: My Yule-fic.  Hopefully the last two from the AU Meme before the year is out, maybe a long origfic for Rainbowfic/genprompt_bingo I’ve been working on for ages, which is still in the editing stage, and I’ve a Good Omens/Doctor Who crossover in my notebook that I want to type up soon.  (I promised astrogirl on Dreamwidth I would.)

Tagging: whoever would like to do this and hasn’t been tagged yet - @allegoriesinmediasres @pers-books @human-nxture @luthienebonyx @scarletmanuka @maryellencarter & whoever wants to, feel tagged!  And if you’ve been tagged and you don’t want to, that’s okay, you’re excused.

[lastbluetardis]

Day by Day

Summary: “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” The Doctor and Rose take that first step together as they begin to clear the air and reconnect after being left alone in a parallel universe together.

Tentoo x Rose, ~6400 words, Mature

What is this? I wrote something that’s not an AU??? Indeed I did. I was inspired to write Tentoo/Rose after rewatching Journey’s End this weekend, and after finding half of this fic on my laptop’s hard drive. I wrote the first half of this sometime in 2015 and finally finished it this morning. Enjoy!

AO3

They’d been in Pete’s World for a grand total of six hours. Six frustrating, emotionally-draining, confusing hours. Using the newly-obsolete dimension jumpers and some jiggery-pokery of the Doctor’s sonic screwdriver—which had not been stolen, thank you very much—they’d managed to teleport themselves directly to the London-based Torchwood offices, where they were greeted enthusiastically by the Torchwood team. Congratulations, handshakes, and hugs were given plentifully and freely; even the Doctor was corralled into the merriment and celebration.

As soon as was polite, though, Rose had grabbed his hand before tugging him and her mother out of the building. Jackie departed their company straight away, not giving either the Doctor or Rose the option of staying with her and Pete. (Jackie knew her daughter would hide from the situation, and was doing her damnedest to make Rose talk to this new Doctor.) Though Jackie did tell Rose quite firmly that she was expected ‘round for dinner one night soon—her little brother would be overjoyed to see her again.

That was how Rose suddenly found herself with a new flatmate and a belly full of butterflies.

The taxi had pulled up to Rose’s home—a small cottage away from the bustle of London that she was renting—and she had guided the Doctor inside.

But rather than sit down and have a much-needed chat about everything that had gone on, they’d cleaned up a little and went straight to bed. In separate beds. In separate rooms.

Sleep didn’t come as easily as Rose would have wished. She should have been able to fall asleep immediately. She’d been awake for over twenty-four hours; she should have been sleeping like the dead. Instead, Rose found herself tossing and turning with nothing but her racing thoughts for company.

So much had happened. She had found the Doctor and lost him again all in the span of a few hours. Only, she hadn’t lost him. He was right down the hall, hopefully having more luck than she was with sleep.

The Doctor was in her flat. The Doctor—her best friend and lost love—was in her flat in the next room over. And here she was, cooped up alone.

Letting out a groan of frustration and exhaustion, Rose flopped onto her back. She dug the heels of her hands into her eyes and sighed.

When she’d undertaken the Dimension Cannon project, this was not how she had seen things turning out. At all. She had imagined a bit of everything. Her bleakest thoughts were that the Cannon would never work, and she was doomed to die in this universe as every single star eventually winked out. Then there were even bleaker thoughts that she would make it back to the Doctor, only to find he had regenerated into a new body, into a new person who didn’t want her anymore. But at least in that scenario, she imagined they’d saved the universe—the multiverse—and her family would be safe.

However, there were moments she had allowed herself to hope. She allowed herself to imagine that she found him exactly as she left him: tall, thin, tight suit, really great hair and all. She allowed herself to immerse herself in the burning desire and love that she knew would sear through her veins as soon as she’d lay eyes on him for the first time. She imagined being swept into a rib-crushing hug that turned into a heated, bruising snog that turned into some really fantastic sex…

But not in any of her imaginings did she predict this: two Doctors, one of the Doctors coming to live with her while the other left her behind, no TARDIS (yet), no (foreseeable) travelling. And she was still stuck in this godforsaken universe.

At least the company was better this time around, she mused as her thoughts began to turn to the man the next room over. The Doctor was just next door. A white wall still separated them, but between those walls were simple drywall, insulation, and air molecules; there was no impenetrable Void keeping them apart anymore. Just her own stubborn pigheadedness.

Rose’s chest tightened as she remembered the look in his eyes when she’d left him alone in her flat several hours earlier. After a short, cursory tour of his new living environment, she’d made a quick escape, claiming to need a shower and sleep. He’d looked so lost, hurt, and panicked at the thought of being on his own, yet he had forced a smile and agreed wholeheartedly with her. He hadn’t protested, hadn’t asked to stay with her. He’d given her space and time, and she had selfishly taken it.

But why? Why was she hiding from him? She had been looking for him for years, yet the first thing she did was run away.

Cursing softly, Rose flung off the blankets and stepped out of her bedroom into the hallway. The door to the guest room was wide open, and upon peeking in, she saw it was empty. The bed was neatly made up; he obviously hadn’t been in here yet.

Unease flitted through Rose. Surely he was exhausted as she was? He was human now, and would need more rest than he had before. They’d gone through quite a traumatic ordeal, after all. Him especially. He’d gone and split himself in two, for God’s sake. If it was anything like a regeneration, he surely needed to sleep off any lingering stress, lest he make himself ill. Her guts twisted at the thought of him slipping into a coma as he had done that Christmas day after he’d regenerated.

Rose moved down the hall and into the living room. Perhaps he was entertaining himself with the telly? Or the scant collection of books she’d acquired over the nearly four years of existing in this universe. After all, Dickens hadn’t died until 1873 in this world—rather than 1870—and had managed to coax out one last novel before passing. She’d tried reading it herself, but found the material a bit dry and language too foreign for her to thoroughly enjoy by herself.

Before, reading together in the library, snuggled against the Doctor with hot tea and nibbles, had been Rose’s favorite pastime on the TARDIS. He had thoroughly enjoyed narrating books to her, and she had likewise enjoyed listening to him. He’d brought the stories alive in ways she could never have imagined. Quite literally sometimes, seeing as he would often surprise her with trips to go and visit long-dead authors.

Since being trapped in Pete’s World, reading by herself had only left her feeling hollow and alone.

Anyway. Rose was sure the Doctor would have snatched that particular book right up. She was eager to visit a bookstore or library with him now; she was dying to know if any of their old favorite authors had produced anything new or different in this universe. Perhaps they could resume their habit of reading together every night before bed. She would like that very much, and hoped he would as well.

With every step down the hall, her excitement grew. A smile was already tugging up the corners of her mouth in preparation of seeing him, but it slipped when she found her living room as empty as the guest bedroom.

Where is he?

She noticed with some satisfaction that the unique-to-this-universe Dickens novel was resting on the coffee table, a bookmark tucked into the pages about a quarter of the way through. But the satisfaction disappeared, only to be replaced with dread.

Where was he? Surely he wouldn’t have left without telling her? A peek into the kitchen told her he wasn’t there either. Nor was he in the loo.

“Doctor?” she called out, her voice trembling. 

No answer. But before she could work herself into a panic, she glimpsed his red Chucks strewn haphazardly by the front door. She breathed out a sigh of relief. He wouldn’t have gone anywhere without shoes.

She scrubbed her hands over her eyes, feeling utterly exhausted suddenly. She wondered if she should just go back to bed, but she quickly decided against it. They really, really ought to have a chat about their circumstances and expectations of each other. Yes, she wanted him here with her, but only if he wanted it too. Yes, she was happy to be with him again even though part of her heart was breaking at being abandoned by the other Doctor.

The middle of the night probably wasn’t ideal for that conversation, but at least it might help clear the air a bit. If they were both awake at this ungodly hour, there was no reason not to have this conversation. And at the very least, she really ought to apologize for running away from him like she’d done.

But a conversation required two people, and for all intents and purposes, her flat was empty. Where on Earth could the Doctor have gone?

He hadn’t been taken, had he? By some alien species that recognized him as alien? Was he even still alien? He said his body was human, but he still had a Time Lord’s consciousness. A Time Lord’s memories. Would that show up as alien?

Before she could call Torchwood to track him down, Rose noticed the door to her back garden was unlocked. She strode to the door and nudged aside the curtains. Bingo. A dark, familiar, lanky form was sprawled on one of her lounge chairs. He looked so small, sitting out there by himself underneath the stars he used to travel.

Her heart twinged. How hard must this be for him?

Sighing, Rose turned away from the door. As much as she ached to go and join him, she needed a minute. She needed to organize her thoughts and emotions, lest she simultaneously hug him and rage at him. No, she needed to get her anger and hurt in check first. There would be time to work through that later, but for now, she allowed herself to be filled up with the joy of being with the Doctor again.

To busy her hands, Rose filled the kettle and set about making tea. She pulled down two bags of chamomile tea and worked on making it to each of their likings. At least, she made it according to how he used to like his tea. She wasn’t sure if his tastes had changed, either from time or from becoming human.

With the tea finished, Rose rummaged around her bare cabinets for a box of her favorite biscuits. Tucking the box beneath her arm, she carefully picked up both mugs and headed outside. She struggled with the door for a few seconds until she was able to push down on the handle with her elbow.

The summer night was cool and there was a gentle breeze that nipped at her nose and cheeks. She wished she’d thought to put on a dressing gown; she was soon shivering in her pajama shorts and t-shirt. She wondered if the Doctor was cold. She didn’t know how long he’d been sitting out here, and he was dressed similarly to her: in boxer-briefs and a shirt. She winced when she realized it was the same shirt he’d been wearing beneath his suit. They really needed to get clothes for him.

She took a selfish minute to observe him, to drink in every inch of him before she approached. He must have heard her, because he turned his head. A small smile tugged up a corner of his mouth as she set the mugs and biscuits on the table beside him.

“Hello,” she said, her voice a little breathless.

“Hello.”

“I, er, made tea,” she said awkwardly, wringing her fingers in front of herself. “May I join you?”

“I would like that,” he said. He hovered his fingers over the two mugs and looked up at her questioningly. She pointed to his tea and watched as he took a long gulp, not seeming to care if the hot liquid scalded his throat. He smacked his lips appreciatively. “You remembered how I take it.”

She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. “I was worried that you might not take it the same way.” She picked up her own mug and took a more cautious sip than he had. “But you’re still you, right?”

“Oh! Yes! Of course!” He cleared his throat, then lowered his voice to something a little more appropriate for the quiet night air. “I meant… it’s been a while, is all. Didn’t know if you’d remember something as silly as how I take my tea.”

“I remember everything about you,” Rose murmured, hiding behind a sip of tea.

His face softened.

They slipped into an awkward silence, with each of them nursing their own cups of tea. Rose was painfully aware that she was just standing there like a nutter.

“D’you…”

“Can I…”

They chuckled nervously, and Rose wanted to rip out her hair. Why was everything so stiff and awkward between them? Why did this feel like meeting up with her ex, rather than her lover whom she’d been parted from for four years?

“You first,” the Doctor prompted. He glanced sidelong at the box of biscuits.

Rose grabbed the box and opened it one-handed before nudging it towards him. He beamed at her and didn’t waste any time with grabbing a biscuit and stuffing it whole into his mouth. His cheeks puffed out comically.

Her heart squeezed with love for him, and tears inexplicably burned her eyes. Apart from the layer of tension between the two of them and their current location, it could have been any other night aboard the TARDIS with them sharing late night tea and biscuits before bed.

But there was a layer of tension between them. And they weren’t in the TARDIS.

“‘Oo were sch’aying?” he mumbled as he chewed his biscuit.

The confidence Rose had built up suddenly left her. “S’nothing. Wanted to know if you wanted company. But you looked deep in thought. Don’t want to interrupt. Just thought you might like some tea, though. It gets a bit cold out here.”

Rose realized she was rambling and scrambled to make an escape. “I’ll let you get back to… whatever it was you were doing.”

With her face burning from embarrassment and annoyance at her own cowardice, Rose was about to turn around when cold fingers wrapped around her forearm, halting her exit. She took a deep breath, willing her face to cool down, before turning towards him.

The Doctor was wearing a similar expression to the one he had when she left him alone in her flat earlier that evening. His eyebrows were knitted together, his mouth was drawn up tight into a thin, white line, and his eyes were so deep, so fathomless, and so sad it made her breath catch.

He opened his mouth to say something, and his Adam’s apple bobbed, but nothing came out. He exhaled in a rush, and tried again. Swallowing deeply, he averted his gaze from hers as he asked softly, “Stay? Please?”

He finally dropped his hand from her arm, moving it to cradle his mug of tea. He kept his eyes downcast, staring into the milky liquid, tracing the rim of the mug with his index finger.

The waver in his voice as well as the uncertainty shattered any resolve Rose had of fleeing back to her room. She placed her half-drunk mug of tea on the table and stepped up to him. She rested her hand on his shoulder, gave it a squeeze, then gave him a hug. Standing as she was, she towered over him for once. His shoulders were at her stomach, his head at her breasts. She tried not to think too much of that as she wrapped her arms around his neck and shoulders and held him. This was the first intimate touch between them since their kiss on the beach.

The Doctor clutched at her desperately, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist and burying his face between her breasts. She was suddenly extremely aware that she was not wearing a bra. A shiver that had nothing to do with the night air rippled through her.

She bent over him and pressed a kiss to his hair. It was just as soft as she remembered.

They stayed like that for an immeasurable moment, with her hunched over him and him stretched up towards her, holding each other as if their lives depended on it.

When Rose’s back began to protest, she stood, shivering as the cool night air replaced his warm, solid body.

“Will you stay?” he asked again.

Rose bit her lip. She really was quite cold, and judging from the goosebumps raising his arm hairs, he was too.

“I’ll be right back,” she said.

Before she could overthink it, she leaned down and pecked a kiss to the corner of his mouth, then skipped inside. She shivered when the warm air of her flat kissed her skin. She went to the couch and grabbed the fuzzy blanket balled up in one of the corners. She shook it out as she strode back to the Doctor.

He was sitting in the same position as when she’d left him. She held up the blanket for him to see.

“Budge up a bit,” she said, flapping her hand at him. He blinked, and she rolled her eyes. “Scoot up, and spread your legs. I’ll sit between them. That way we can both share the blanket. Unless…?”

Doubts crept into her mind. This would be a very intimate position for them to sit in. They’d engaged in much more intimate positions before, but that had been years ago.

The Doctor moved quickly, slinging his legs on either side of the lounge chair, leaving room for her between them. 

“Good idea,” he said, patting the seat to encourage her to sit. “I didn’t realize how cold it was. This human body is quite rubbish with the cold.”

Rose carefully lowered herself to the chair, settling between his thighs before she threw the blanket across herself and draped it over his legs and feet. The Doctor wrapped his arms around her middle and tugged her closer until her entire back was flush with his front. A warm tingle bloomed in her stomach.

“That’s better,” the Doctor sighed, leaning back in his chair.

“Yeah. It’s nice.”

She pillowed her head against his collarbone and let out a deep breath to relax herself into his arms. His hands rested loosely against her lower abdomen, and before long, his fingers began tracing idle lines across the waistband of her shorts. His lips then pressed ever so softly against her temple before he nuzzled his cheek into the top of her hair.

Rose hadn’t felt this complete in years. Despite the maelstrom of thoughts and other emotions churning through her, the one dominating this moment was utter peace. She loved him so much, had missed him so much, and now she was back with him once more. They still needed to talk, to clear the air between them. She needed to wrap her head around her new reality, to give herself the proper time and space to grieve the loss of the other Doctor, but not right now. Not on such a beautiful, perfect night when she was in the arms of the man she loved.

“I missed you.”

He’d spoken so quietly that if she hadn’t felt the rumble of his chest, she wouldn’t have been sure if he’d spoken at all. She tilted her head up to look at him and saw the depth of his longing in his eyes.

She reached up and cupped his cheek, stroking it with her thumb. His eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into the touch.

“I missed you too, Doctor. So much.” She paused for a moment, then added, “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Are you, though?”

Her heart squeezed. “Yes. I know I didn’t act like it earlier. And I’m sorry. I really am. But I am very glad you’re here. With me.”

He was silent for a few seconds, then he said, “This probably wasn’t what you were expecting, was it?”

“Not really,” she admitted. His entire body tensed behind hers, but she wouldn’t lie to him. “But I’ll get used to it.”

“Great,” he scoffed, and he slowly withdrew his hands from her hips.

“No,” she said. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… I expected to be back on the TARDIS, with…”

“With him,” the Doctor bit out.

“You’re the same man,” she said. He hummed noncommittally. “Please, Doctor. Don’t do this. No, this isn’t what I expected, and yes, I’m angry and hurt and confused. But I’m also happy to be with you. I- I love you.”

He slumped back in his chair and ducked his chin to hide his face. For one horrible moment, she thought he was about to reject her, reject what she’d just said.

Instead, he said, “I’m sorry. I’m happy to be with you, too.”

Rose was said nothing for the span of several heartbeats, then she asked, “What happens now?”

The Doctor cocked his head to the side. “Well… we take it day by day, I guess.”

“Together?” Rose couldn’t help but ask.

A faint smile crossed the Doctor’s lips. “Together. Though, first thing’s first, you’re cold. Let’s go inside.”

Rose, who, despite the blanket, was close to shivering in the cold night air, nodded and stood up from the seat. She messily folded the blanket and began gathering up their mugs and the box of biscuits. The Doctor hurriedly jogged to the door and held it open for her. He followed her into the brightly-lit kitchen but stood there awkwardly while she dumped the dregs of their cold tea down the sink and put the biscuits away.

“This is a nice flat,” the Doctor said, glancing around. “You didn’t stay with Pete and Jackie?”

Rose shrugged. “I did for a while. Then needed my own space.” She held out her hand for him, glad when he threaded their fingers together. After the quiet intimacy they’d generated in the garden, she was loath to let any barriers come between them.

“I noticed the new Dickens book,” the Doctor said, pointing with their joined hands when they walked to the living room. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” she said. “Is it any good? I tried reading it but, well… The classics were never my favorite.”

“But you let me read them to you all the time,” the Doctor said, sounding a bit affronted. “Why didn’t you ever say anything.”

“I enjoyed listening to you read them to me,” Rose said, squeezing his fingers. “Maybe you could read that one to me? Like we used to?”

“I would like that,” he murmured. “Did you want to start it tonight…?”

“I’m a bit too knackered for that,” she admitted. “I’d probably fall asleep after the first page.”

Rose guided him down the hall and to the guest room. Rather than releasing his hand, she gripped it tighter.

“You could sleep in here, or you can join me in my room,” she said, her voice low. “Your choice.”

“Your room,” he said immediately, and Rose breathed a sigh of relief.

They untangled her sheets and crawled beneath them. Without speaking, they moved until they were spooned together with the Doctor curled around her as tightly as he could be. His front was flush with her back, his legs tangled in hers. He wrapped his arms around her chest and anchored her firmly to him.

Rose knew this position wouldn’t last the night; no matter how many times they’d fallen asleep tangled together, they always awoke separated the next morning. But for now, Rose relished the closeness, the movements of his chest as he breathed, the tickle of his breath in her ear.

“Goodnight,” he whispered, and the kiss he planted to the sensitive spot just below her ear sent goosebumps prickling through her.

“Night,” she managed, and before she could tell him she loved him, she was asleep.

oOoOo

When Rose next awoke, pale yellow sunlight was filtering through her window. Her head was fuzzy and her eyes gritty, and it took all of a second before the memories of yesterday rushed back to her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw the Doctor curled up behind her, wide awake and staring at her. He met her gaze and smiled.

All of a sudden, everything came over Rose at once. Tears burned behind her eyes, making her vision swim before she covered her face with her hands and began sobbing. Sobbing for everything she had lost and everything she had gained. For the years of exhaustion and hard work that led her back to the Doctor and led to the salvation of the universe. For the heartbreak and agony of the Doctor rejecting and abandoning her, and for the joy and love of the Doctor that was now crushing her into his arms.

She cried and cried until it felt like her entire body might break apart from the force of it. And through it all, the Doctor held her. His voice was low and soothing amidst her shuddering breaths, and though she couldn’t make out the words, she appreciated it nevertheless.

It took many long minutes before her tears stopped, and even longer before she felt like she could look at the Doctor. When she finally peeked up at him, he offered her a sweet smile and kissed her forehead gently.

“Feel better?” he asked, drying her cheeks with his thumbs.

“Not really,” she said thickly, her voice scratchy. Her head and body ached, and she felt like she could sleep for another couple of hours.

“I’m so sorry, Rose,” he said, kissing her forehead again.

“Please don’t think I’m unhappy with you. With being with you,” Rose said. “I’m happy you’re here. But I’m furious and heartbroken at him at the same time.”

“I know,” he murmured. He loosed a long exhale then admitted, “I never expected to be able to do this again. To wake up beside you. You were lost to me forever. But here you are.”

The wonder in his voice was almost enough to set her off crying again. She tucked her face closer into his chest until the urge went away.

“We can do this every day. If you want. Fall asleep together. Wake up together.” Her voice was muffled by his shirt, but she knew he’d heard her. 

He shivered and his arms tightened around her. “I would like that very much.”

Rose pulled back just far enough to press a kiss to his Adam’s apple. The muscles of his throat bobbed beneath her lips as she trailed kiss after kiss to his neck. He hummed and sighed, the sounds making his throat vibrate deliciously against her lips.

“Rose,” he groaned.

He pushed at her, pushing her away, making her stop. Her heart dropped. But as soon as she took her face away from his neck, his lips descended on hers. Her surprised exclamation was muffled by his mouth as his lips devoured hers, searching and pushing and pulling in all the best ways.

A violent shudder rippled down her spine, blazing an inferno through her veins that screamed for more, more, more. She had missed this, missed him, missed sharing her body and soul with him as they made love. And she needed him right now.

Needing better leverage than what was being afforded, Rose wrapped her arms around his shoulder and one leg around his hips and pulled. Without breaking the kiss, Rose rolled onto her back, bringing the Doctor with her. He moaned as their bodies aligned perfectly. His hips were cradled in hers, and she felt the burgeoning evidence of what this kiss was doing to him growing against her.

“Rose,” he panted, wrenching his mouth away from hers. “Rose, wait. Is this… do you…?”

“I want this,” she said, cradling his lightly-stubbled cheek in her hands. Her thumbs brushed his kiss-swollen lips. “I want you.”

A helpless little noise escaped his throat before he ducked his head down to catch her lips in his once more. She buried her fingers in his hair, so soft and strong, to deepen the kiss. Her lips parted for him, and their tongues tentatively met in the middle, slipping and gliding against each other, relearning each other after all these years.

An aching heat throbbed between her legs and she shifted restlessly. Hooking her thighs around his hips, she brought him into tighter contact against her. His groan was lost amidst hers as he rubbed against her so deliciously.

“Rose,” he breathed, releasing her lips to trail frantic little kisses along the curve of her jaw. He scraped his teeth along the side of her neck, sending shivers of pleasure sparking across her skin. She tightened her hold of his hair, keeping him where he was and urging him to do it again. He obliged. “I missed you. I love you.”

It was the first time he’d said those words since the beach. She gasped out his name and arched further into him, needing to be closer, closer, closer.

“I love you,” he repeated, kissing and sucking at her neck until Rose was sure there would be a deep red stain across her skin.

The pressure in her gut coiled tighter and tighter the longer they moved together. Their hips arched and rubbed and squirmed, hurtling her closer and closer to the edge. Rose wasn’t sure how much longer she would last when the Doctor’s rhythm faltered and he bit the soft part where her neck met her shoulder.

“R-Rose,” he rasped. “I… sorry, but if we keep going, I’m going to… er, make a real mess of things.”

As much as she would love to continue as they were, she was desperate to feel more of him. They were still fully clothed, for heaven’s sake. Granted, they were each in shorts and a t-shirt, but still. They hadn’t removed anything, though the Doctor’s hands were doing a pretty good job of mapping out any bit of skin he could reach.

“Shift up a bit,” she ordered, lowering her legs from his hips.

“Right, yeah…”

He moved to clamber off of her, but she wrapped her legs around him once more.

“Don’t want to stop,” she said. “Just… freeing up the important bits.”

“Oh… ohhhh.” She had unceremoniously reached into his pants and wrapped her fingers around his hard, throbbing length. His hips stuttered into her touch, and she tried not to give him too much stimulation to send him over the edge. She made sure he didn’t get caught in the elastic of his waistband before she worked his pants halfway down his arse.

“Feels good,” he croaked, thrusting shallowly into her hand.

“It’ll feel better in a minute,” she said, wrenching her own sleep shorts down her legs.

After a whole lot of squirming, Rose managed to free one of her legs from the shorts, letting the fabric dangle at her other thigh. She made very quick work of lining him up and taking him into her.

“Oh… oh Rose,” he hissed, eyes and jaw clenched shut.

She was nearly beyond words at the friction, at the glide of him into her. Her hips undulated against his, working him deeper and deeper until he was seated as far as he could go. The Doctor trembled above her as he held himself still, letting her adjust.

After only a few seconds, Rose couldn’t bear the pressure anymore and she arched into him, wrapping her thighs around his lower back once more. She pressed her feet into his arse to spur him on, and he was all too willing.

It was over embarrassingly quickly, but it was so, so good. When his clever fingers drummed at the sensitive bundle of nerve just above where they were joined, the tightening coil deep in her belly burst outward, spiraling through her entire body from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. She bowed off the bed, a garbled, wordless cry coming from her throat as she lost herself in her pleasure, in him.

He followed mere seconds later, his rhythm absolutely nonexistent as he worked for his release. It shattered through him in a rush of grunted curses and a sigh of her name as he pulsed and throbbed deep within her.

The world dissolved around her. There was nothing except for her and him, tangled together in the ultimate expression of love and unity. Rose trembled with aftershocks as her mind, for the first time in a long time, went utterly blank.

The Doctor breathed harshly at her breast, his forehead on her collarbone. His hair tickled her nose, and she brushed it away.

His arms trembled as he held himself above her, still seated inside of her. It was half a minute before he pressed a kiss to her chest and rolled onto his side, slipping out of her. She winced and grimaced, but followed him, tucking herself into his side. She threw a leg over one of his, careful not to accidentally knee him in a very sensitive area.

She was sure they looked slightly ridiculous. Her shorts were still dangling off of one of her legs and his boxers were barely tugged off his hips, and both their shirts were still on but twisted from their movements.

But Rose wouldn’t have had it any other way.

She leaned up and pressed a kiss to his jaw, then to the corner of his mouth. The Doctor hummed and turned his head to meet her kiss.

“That was really rather brilliant, wasn’t it?” A self-satisfied smile played across his lips.

“Yeah, it was,” she agreed, snuggling beside him.

“Er… rather messy, though,” he said, beginning to squirm.

Rose breathed out a laugh. Thank God. Their combined fluids were rapidly cooling between her legs and becoming rather… sticky.

“A little bit,” she answered. And though she really wasn’t in the mood for it, she knew she ought to clean up.

As though he read her mind, he said, “Do you want to… erm, take care of things? Well. I should as well. It’s a bit… damp. Anyway. Do you maybe want to… share? A shower? With me?”

Rose peered up at him; he was looking directly at the ceiling. She rolled her eyes. After what they’d just done together, he was worried she would reject the intimacy of a shower?

“That sounds brilliant,” she said, kissing his chest.

She wriggled off the bed, and let her shorts finally fall to the floor. The Doctor very gingerly worked his boxers down his legs.

“I’m gonna need clothes,” he said, looking down at his discarded pants. “I’ve got no clothes. Definitely gonna need clothes. And- and money, I s’pose, to buy clothes. Blimey. Money. I’ve got no money. Never needed it, but now I do. You’ve got bills, so now I do too. Money. I’m gonna need a job, and a name for identification, and papers, and…”

The Doctor’s eyes widened in his growing panic and his chest began rising and falling as his breathing went shallow and rapid. She stepped up to him and took his hands in hers, squeezing them once, before she dropped them to wrap her arms around his waist. He stood somewhat stiffly, but as Rose stroked his back gently, his muscles unlocked.

“We’ll take it day by day, yeah?” she said, echoing his words from the night before. “Day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, if we need to. We’ll get everything sorted out. I’ll text Mum and ask her to bring a change of clothes for you, then we can think about going shopping. But for right now, you and I are gonna get a shower, then we’re gonna eat breakfast.”

“Most important meal of the day,” he quipped weakly. He hugged her tightly and tucked his face into the curtain of her hair. “Thanks. Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Doctor. D’you think I didn’t have the same freak out when I first got here?” she asked. 

“I’m not freaking out,” he muttered petulantly.

She ignored him and continued. “We had to invent a whole new person for me. And raise Mum from the dead. We can do the same for you.” She paused and worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “It’s okay, y’know. To not be okay.”

The Doctor exhaled raggedly. “I know. But I don’t want you to feel like I regret being here. Because I don’t. Being with you again is… it’s the happiest I’ve ever been.”

She smiled into his neck. “Me too. But we’ve got a lot to adjust to.”

“Day by day,” he murmured.

“Together,” she added.

He finally pulled away from the embrace. His eyes hadn’t fully lost their panicked gleam, but it was definitely more muted. She understood all too well that anxiety.

Though their morning was utterly perfect and she was utterly content, Rose knew it wouldn’t last. It couldn’t last. Too much had happened and so much had changed. There were so many emotions and hurts to sort through, and she knew some days would be worse than others.

But she also knew some days would be better than others. Some days would be perfect. And that would make it all worth it. Those days would be the days she would be fighting for when the fragile peace between them eventually cracked. But she had faith in herself and faith in him that they could work together to mend any breaks and piece themselves back together again, stronger than they ever were before.

As if he could see exactly what she was thinking, he smiled at her. His smile was a paradoxical mixture of sorrow and longing and joy; she was relieved he was on the same page, that he didn’t expect everything from here on out to be sunshine and rainbows. It would take work, on both their parts.

The Doctor reached out to cradle her cheeks in his palms. She leaned into the touch. His thumbs stroked her lips, then her cheeks as he ducked his head down towards hers. He skated the tip of his nose along hers, and hovered with his lips barely a centimeter away from hers.

“Together,” he affirmed, before he pressed his lips to hers to seal the promise of their forever.

[kusunogatari]

[ Plague || Chapter Two ] [ @abyssaldespair ] [ Uchiha Obito, Suigin Ryū, Hatake Kakashi ] [ Blood, vomit ] [ Verse: When Dead Walk ] [ Previous || Next ]

A few more hours’ travel sees them reach the designated village. It’s nearly nightfall, but the village head hurries out to meet them. “You are the medic from Konoha?”

“Yes sir - do you have someplace we can speak without being overheard?” Best to avoid panicking the populace.

“Yes, yes of course - this way.”

Fubuki on her shoulder, Ryū and Kakashi follow into the man’s office, declining an offer of tea. “What did Tsunade-sama tell you?”

“Only that the illness is spreading, must be quarantined, and that you would be coming. Is it...just one of you…?”

“I’m here to get a grasp on the situation and report back - depending on the severity, Konoha will be sending more medics as they are able. We have reports of cases spreading across Hi no Kuni. We have to ensure the areas most affected receive the most help.”

“Of...of course. Um...we have a population of about three hundred. Of that, we’ve had seven cases...so far.”

So, about two percent… “And where are the patients now?”

“They’ve all been taken to the clinic, and regular patients are being seen elsewhere. We didn’t want to risk it spreading.”

“Smart,” Ryū praises. “Thus far, we know the illness spreads through bodily fluids - typically blood or saliva, the latter of which occurs the most through bites as the illness increases aggression. So as soon as someone starts exhibiting symptoms, they should be isolated for their and others’ safety.”

The elder gives a quick nod. “I’ve had our local guards keeping an eye on things. If anything seems suspicious, they let me know immediately.”

“May I see the patients?”

“Yes, though...I must warn you, many are very, uh…” A pause. “...angry.”

“I’m prepared.”

They cross the street and head down a ways before reaching the small local clinic. Within is another medic, who bows in greeting.

“Are you the attending physician?”

“In…a manner of speaking. I haven’t had the formal training you lot in Konoha have, but...I’m the most knowledgeable here. I mostly deal with herbs and old practices without chakra. I’ve, um...I’ve been recording what I’ve found.”

That gets Ryū to perk. “Good - the more data we have, the quicker we’ll hopefully find a cure.”

“You really think this can be cured…?”

“I certainly hope so...or at least I’m hoping for a vaccine to stop the spread. This particular illness is dangerous and lethal. We need to curb its progress as soon as possible. If you don’t mind, I’ll take your notes and the information the clinic has of the population and send a note to Tsunade-sama right away.”

“Y-yes!” Fumbling for a folder, the local medic hands it over along with several others. “The records from the last few months. Our first case was about two weeks ago...and it’s been steadily increasing from there.”

Nodding, Ryū lets the village head lead them to some temporary housing. “If you’ve need of anything, please just let us know. I’ll have a supper brought for the pair of you immediately.”

“Thank you.” Turning on a lamp, Ryū sits and begins going over the notations. To her frustration, there’s not much to it...and almost nothing she wasn’t already aware of from her own research in Konoha. “...that medic is right...she’s lacking training. It’s clear she’s missing things...but overall, it follows the same pattern as what I and the others in Konoha observed.”

“...is that good or bad?”

“...good. For now, we have consistent data from multiple pooling points. So far, that means it probably hasn’t mutated, or not very far as to present varying symptoms.” Taking down copies of key parts of the notes, Ryū then seals them in a tiny scroll along with her note explaining her own thoughts thus far. Tying it carefully to the white owl’s leg, she murmurs, “Fly fast.”

“Of course.” Let through a window, Fubuki quickly disappears into the night.

By then, rations are sent, and the human pair eat in silence.

“...so, what do you think will happen here?”

After a pause, Ryū swallows. “I...embellished a bit.”

“...oh?”

“I need to get back to Kusunokizan and tend to Obito. I can still collect research on him, and it might actually be easier with a single individual, let alone in such secluded, consistent conditions. And for that to happen...Tsunade needs to send at least one more medic here to take my place.”

“...did you tell her you want to leave?”

“I did. I said we ran into a man in the wilderness with the disease, and that I sent him home for further study by my teacher...and that I’d like to continue my own research there. I don’t know if she’ll agree, but...either way, I’ll be leaving once they send another medic.”

A silver brow perks. “...and if they don’t?”

“They will.”

“Well, if you’re sure…”

Ryū nods, finishing another bite. “At the very least, they’ll want a second set of eyes and hands.”

“...won’t that be a moot point if you leave?”

“I’ll still be working. Just not here.”

Kakashi can’t help a snort at that. “...true. So…I take it I’ll be going with you?”

“I’d assumed you’d want to, given who he apparently is.”

“You really had no idea?”

“I’d never met him before my trips to Suna, and he never revealed anything troubling. I had no idea he was even Uchiha. All I knew was that I was supposed to call him Tobi. I never saw a cloak...he always appeared without it - he just had traveling gear. I thought he was a mercenary, maybe a low-rank missing nin given I don’t really know the Bingo book...but I never thought…” Her tone trails into silence.

“...well, I’ve got no reason to doubt you. It’s going to be...tricky, not letting this slip. As of now...we’re withholding valuable information from the village about a pivotal enemy.”

Something in Ryū’s face hardens. “...I’m not turning him in.”

“Oh…?”

“He’s…” A sigh. “...it’s a long story.”

“And we’ve got nothing but time.”

Silence for a time. And then, “...he’s never done anything to hurt me.”

“Even terrible people can play favorites.”

She shoots him a look. “...how many people have you killed, Kakashi?”

“Honestly? I can’t say. Between war time, my stint in ANBU, and just...regular missions...probably hundreds by now.”

“And how many of them were just serving their village like you serve yours?”

“...Ryū…”

“Every shinobi kills. Every shinobi does terrible things to people just because they live on the other side of an imaginary line. Sometimes even people of their own nation! I don’t want to make that judgment yet...not until he tells me the truth.” Ryū’s jaw sets stubbornly. “...back in the third war, Iwa shinobi massacred my entire village. Others were razed to the ground, too. But that was because they had people to protect. A land to defend. A Kage to serve. Did Konoha really never do anything as gruesome?”

His silence is telling enough.

“...Akatsuki nin are killing people. And it’s probably for an ideal they have. Just like all the other factions of shinobi.” She pokes at her food, expression soured. “...my clan never paid attention to borders. We traveled everywhere, healed everyone. Because when push comes to shove...all shinobi are the same. They just fight for different reasons. They kill. They torture. They destroy. And most come back to families. Husbands, wives, children, parents...and they keep living. But that monster is always just beneath the skin. A monster I’ve never been able to understand. And probably never will. But I do know that, if a shinobi can love just as they hate...then there’s still enough good in them to be worth saving.”

A lengthy pause, and then she whispers, “...so...if he can love me, then...there’s good in him. I know it…”

Kakashi heaves a sigh. In truth, he wants to argue her naivety, but...she’s seen war firsthand. Maybe not the same way he has - victim as opposed to soldier - but...she still knows life and death. Love and hate. Loss and joy.

Maybe her hopeful view is just as valid as his cynical one.

“...well, for now, keep up your work...and we’ll see what Tsunade says. Until then, our hands are a bit tied.”

“...I’ll see the patients tomorrow. See how far they’ve all progressed. And see if I can learn anything from some blood and saliva samples.”

“Understood.”

Sleep doesn’t come easy for either of them. Curled on her side, Ryū does nothing but worry. About Konoha’s patients, those here...and Obito. It’s so strange to address him by another name, but...well, she’d always suspected it was a monicker. She just...didn’t know why he kept it from her.

Now she knows. Someone supposedly dead, from a nearly-extinct clan...and part of a gang of criminals. Surprisingly...she feels rather...calm about it all. Probably because, to her, in the end...shinobi really are all the same. Sure, some have better morals than others, but...they all have blood on their hands.

Blood she enables every time she heals one.

It’s been a moral debate within herself from the day she arrived in Konoha. Part of her, still, is afraid of them. Part of her, even now, considers leaving and shifting her practices. Whether strictly to a civilian village, or just back home.

And yet...and yet…

Sighing, she buries her face under the blankets. Now is not the time for psychological dilemmas. Now is time to rest, and get ready for what will likely be weeks solid of work. Maybe no different than her typical schedule...but this is far, far more pressing. A world full of people driven to madness with hunger and pain is one she cannot allow.

The rest she can debate once this is cured.

Come morning, she throws herself out of bed and gets to work. Kakashi follows. Her mind shifts into work mode, expression a practiced neutral as she listens to the local medic, observing her patients.

...it’s not pretty.

The most advanced, two weeks infected, is hardly even human anymore. Slamming hands against the locked door, he peers wildly through the small window in the metal. Blood stains his front and face. The same condition as Obito, perhaps another week or so in advancement.

The rest are tapered down from there, the most recent of which begs to be released. “P-please, I...I’m not that sick! It’s just a fever, a-and some chills! Really, I -!”

“I’m sorry, sir - we have to take every available precaution,” Ryū explains softly.

Tears well in his eyes, defeat plain in them. “...am I...am I gonna turn into one of those...those things…?”

“We’re doing everything we can to find a cure and vaccine. Until then, we’ll do all we can to make you comfortable, and keep you safe.”

...they feel like such empty words.

She hates herself for it.

...but what else can she do?

Using barriers and caution, she extracts blood samples from each patient, looking into the cellular structures and trying to pinpoint what precisely is causing the outbreak...and how it changes through time’s progression.

Just as she begins, Fubuki returns, this time without a scroll tied to a leg. “Ryū-sama!”

“Did she agree?”

“Tsunade-sama has decided to send a squadron of three medics to this location,” the summon reports. “They will be accompanied by a four shinobi cell. And you will be given leave to return to Kusunokizan as soon as they arrive. She asks you continue your work here until then.”

Well...a partial victory. She’d hoped to start traveling immediately, but...given the lack of training of this town’s medic, Ryū knows that’s for the best. “Very well. You’re free to go - thank you.”

Head bobbing in a makeshift bow, Fubuki heads out to likely eat and rest.

“So, another day at best - they likely were sent as soon as Fubuki left,” Kakashi muses.

“Mm.”

Observing cell changes throughout the day, Ryū realizes something. “...I think I know what this is.”

“You do?”

“...it has to be a virus. It’s too small for me to sense...and its behavior is that of a viral infection. It’s just so tiny...I only noticed because I happened to catch a cell bursting.”

“...I’ll pretend I know what that means.”

“Viruses are extremely basic in structure. Unlike bacteria, they need a cell host to replicate. When they do, the cell is reprogrammed to create more virus...and then bursts when it’s overrun.”

“Sounds gruesome.”

“It is, on a microscopic scale.”

“So...can you treat it?”

“...well, it’s more complex than a bacterial infection. Since a virus uses the body against itself - takes over the very cells of its host - the best way to prevent it from getting worse...is to find a way to prevent it from multiplying.” Turning to face him, she leans against the counter, arms folding. “This is usually accomplished by examining the DNA or RNA - the genetic code - of the virus, and finding its weak points: ways to inhibit it from successfully passing on its genetic code into a cell, and making more virus. That allows the immune system to catch up, and the virus dies, unable to spread further.”

“...so, you’ll have to take this thing apart before you can treat it.”

“Exactly.”

“...how hard is that?”

“Depends. Given that this is the smallest virus I’ve personally ever encountered...isolating it for study with our current methods will be difficult. But once we have more people working on it, our odds will go up. This will also mean making a vaccine, too. We just...have to break the code first. As soon as Fubuki’s had a chance to rest, I can send another note to Tsunade-sama...and she can spread word from there.”

For now, she keeps observing the cells, taking down any notes that seem relevant. Kakashi, mostly taskless in such a safe environment, takes to scouting the town and keeping an eye out for anyone else that might have come down with the plague.

The next morning, the other medics arrive. Doing her best to explain quickly but thoroughly, Ryū hands over copies of her notes she spent most of the night making.

“It is a virus.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. It’s just such a small scale, we missed it. I barely caught it the first time, but once I knew what to look for, it was obvious. We have to get as many medics as we can working on getting into the genetic code. For now...I don’t think there’s much point in trying to alleviate symptoms. They advance too quickly, and the patients are too dangerous.”

The other three nod in grave agreement. “You’re heading back, then?”

“To another location with a single, secluded patient. I’m hoping I can learn more, and have a more focused regimen there.”

“...good luck.”

Ryū wastes no time in packing up her gear once Fubuki takes wing to Konoha, Kakashi always ready at a moment’s notice. “Let’s go.” Back to the road they go, eventually veering north to the mountains between Hi no Kuni and Yu.

“Don’t suppose we can get a ride in on a dragon like Obito, can we?” Kakashi asks as they trek up a barely-discernible path.

“I don’t want to risk interrupting her...besides, I need to conserve my chakra. I’m getting to work as soon as we arrive.”

“What am I gonna be doing?”

“...making sure he doesn’t kill me,” Ryū replies under her breath.

“...wonderful.”

By sundown, they make their way into the valley proper. Ryū, spreading her senses, finds both Obito and her teacher’s chakra up atop the peak in the sage’s cave. “Great...more climbing.” But she supposes that makes the most sense.

As the pair crest the stone stairs to the small plateau, they’re both thoroughly winded. The sun has set, Ryū lighting their path with a spare orb of chakra in a hand. “Okay...this way…” They trek to the right, the peak continuing to rise...and in it, the mouth of a cave. Pillars carved into the sides are lit as she approaches. “...shishō…?”

Out snakes the sage’s head. “Have you learned anything during our time apart?”

“I’m nearly certain it’s a virus. One I’ve never seen before - I’ve sent Fubuki with word to Tsunade. I’m hoping, with other medics working in tandem, one of us will make a breakthrough. For now...I’ll keep working here, and keep an eye on him. How...how is he?”

The sage snorts a cloud of vapor. “Nearly the same as when you entrusted him to me. His anger is unrelenting, as is his hunger. Terrible spasms, vomiting, chills and yet fevers. This illness ravages him. I have offered him smaller prey, which he has accepted...but much of it is lost when he expels. I fear his caloric intake may be insufficient. And he may yet be susceptible to other disease while his body is so weakened. We must be careful.”

...well, that’s not what she’d hoped for, but honestly what she expected. “...I’ll need to take blood samples to try to work on the virus’ code.”

“Not tonight. You are weary from travel. Rest, and we will speak again in the morning.”

“But -?”

“No arguments, deshi. A tired mind means unsound work. Temper your eagerness with patience.”

For a moment Ryū nearly argues...but she knows her teacher is right. “...all right. But...must we keep him up here?”

“It is safer this way.”

“Yes, but...it would be more convenient if he were in the manor. If I have to make the trek every time I wish to observe him or take another sample, it will only waste time and energy.”

Suigin’s eyes narrow in thought. “...prepare a room with proper seals to create a barrier, like that which surrounds the manor. Once that is done, I will move him.”

A curt nod. “Come on, senpai - let’s go.”

There’s a palpable relief at being home. Ryū quickly clears a guest room of dust for Kakashi, apologizing for the mess.

“Not like you were expecting company,” he offers dryly. “I’ve stayed in far worse places.”

Mind restless and body tense, she employs some therapeutic breathing once she crawls into bed before managing to sleep for a few hours. By dawn she can’t sit still any longer, and gets to work.

Finding old sealing paper, she chooses a room fairly close to her own. Carefully recreating the seals that surround the house, she erects one in each corner.

“...so, this makes a barrier?”

Glancing up to see Kakashi, she nods. “Mhm. One that draws energy from the nature around it, like sage meditation. That way I don’t have to keep it up myself. It’s slow...but should be enough to keep him contained.”

“...you’re sure?”

“I’ll be keeping a close eye on it. He’s just one person, and in all our research and observations, none of the people infected have used ninjutsu. The impairment to their fine motor skills means they can’t control or manipulate chakra. So he’ll only have his regular taijutsu to bang on this with. It’ll be fine.”

Kakashi doesn’t look convinced, but for now doesn’t argue. He’ll see it with his own eyes first.

“...there, that’s the last piece. Now to just...get him in here.”

“...you sure you’re all right with all this?”

“What do you mean?”

He eyes her warily. “...you’re not going to have issues because of how...personal this is, are you?”

“I can handle it.”

“...like you did when we found him?”

“That was -!” She cuts off. “...that was mostly due to surprise. By now I’ve had time to...process all of this. I’ll be fine.” A pause, and then, “...and you?”

“I’ve seen enough people I care about die to be ready for one like this. Between that, war, and missions...not much surprises me anymore. Besides…” His eye closes in a smile. “I have faith you’ll get this done...and then everything will be fine.”

Surprise widens her eyes for a moment...but then she gives a weary grin of her own. “...I’ll give it all I’ve got.”

Rather than make the trek back up, Ryū employs Fubuki to fly up to her teacher’s hiding place and have her bring Obito down to the manor. In the meantime, she paces nervously back and forth in the entry hall while Kakashi watches, leaned against a wall with folded arms.

“You know that won’t make him get here any faster.”

“No, but it makes me feel better.”

Twenty minutes after sending her summon, Ryū senses her teacher approaching. And with it, the subdued chakra of Obito. The dragon has henged into a human form, the unconscious Uchiha in her arms.

Lip nibbled pensively, Ryū wordlessly guides her to the room she chose. The sage then lays him atop a futon before checking the seals for herself.

“...these will suffice. Be sure to examine them regularly. They should draw enough energy to sustain under his aggression, but vigilance is of the utmost importance.”

“Of course. I’ll be careful. And Kakashi-senpai is another set of eyes and ears.”

“Yes...I am glad you do not face this alone. Though...you must tell me more about this one when you’ve a spare moment,” Suigin muses. “I am most...curious about him, and your connection.”

Ryū’s startled expression tinges pink. “Er...right.” Now, however, is hardly the time. With Obito unconscious...it’s time to take a blood sample, and get to work. Bowing to her teacher, Ryū watches her go before turning to Obito.

He’s been stripped of his outer Akatsuki cloak - surely by now the dried blood and vomit was a scent to gag even the strongest stomachs. Instead, he’s left with a body-fitted shirt to his wrists and chin, standard trousers, and his socks and sandals. Gloves cover his hands, but his mask is nowhere to be found...he must have lost it after becoming ill. Suigin, to Ryū’s relief, has also cleared the mess from his skin...but she knows it won’t be long until he’s soiled again.

For a moment, her expression softens, threatens to crack. Though her senses keenly watch his chakra for the smallest sign of him waking, she takes a moment to cup a hand along his right cheek. Teeth grit in her jaw to the point of creaking.

“...I’m going to fix this,” she whispers. “I’m going to help you...just...w-wait a little longer. I promise…” A harsh swallow tries to clear the lump in her throat. “...so don’t you dare give up…! You have to keep fighting it…! I’ll...I’ll never forgive you if you let this win…!”

Outside, beyond the door and leaned against a wall, Kakashi wilts with a light sigh, head bowing.

Taking a slow, steadying breath, Ryū holds it a moment...and then exhales. Ever so carefully, she takes an arm, rolling back his sleeve and making a minute incision along his forearm. Her leg pack provides several phials she fills with blood before smoothing the wound shut. “...I have to get to work now...rest while you can. I’ll...bring you something to eat later.” She knows there’s no point in talking. Not only can he likely not hear her...but as he is, there’s no reason left to interpret her words. But it makes her feel...calmer.

Standing, she moves through the doorway, turning back to face the nearly-empty room. Hands shift through several signs before murmuring, “...bōei no kabe…!”

With a thrum of chakra, the seals ignite, glowing a bright red as the energy begins to gather and feed into the jutsu. In a perfect mold of the room, her clan’s signature white chakra forms a half-translucent barrier, like mist trapped to walls. Lifting a hand, she presses it to the shield, finding it firm. “...there.”

“...ready to start?” Kakashi murmurs.

“...yes.”

     Oh hey, look what's getting more chapters! As if I don't have enough WIPs to be working on xD      We've got more zombito! I have one more chapter written thus far, I need to proofread before I can post, but uh...yeah! This one will now be multichap as well. No idea how far we'll take it, since this is partly based on RP, partly based on ooc plotting. But for now...here's a little more! Thanks for reading!

[whumpingthroughlife]

This is my Bad Things Happen Bingo card!  Go here to see how it works and to get your own! @badthingshappenbingo  

Fandom: Voltron (Klance)

Author: Whumpingthroughlife

Bingo spot: Appendicitis

Rating: G

Words: 3,771

Summary: Keith falls ill with appendicitis.  During a mission, his pains become so bad that he crash lands and gets injured.  Lance stays by his side, esp since they just admitted their feelings for each other.  They have to get him medical treatment on this foreign planet before it’s too late. 

Keith had been feeling crummy all day since he woke up.  He felt like he was coming down with the flu.  Fighting with Lance at the training deck had wiped him out almost completely.  He found it hard to hang onto his weapon and his movements were slow.  

Lance looked at him, his eyes narrowed.  “What’s going on, Keith?  I’m whipping your tail, and this isn’t even my strong suit.”  

He turned to walk away, and Lance grabbed his arm.  “Ke—” he started to say, but then he felt Keith’s clammy skin. “Woah, hey, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re kind of warm.”

Keith pulled out of his grasp with an angry jerk.  “I’m fine.  I’m going to shower and get changed.”

Lance watched him walk away, his expression worried as he saw him stagger off, almost tripping over his own feet.  He wanted to go to him and make sure he was really alright, but he knew Keith would only get mad at him, and he knew Keith liked his privacy.

Keith went to the showers and peeled off his clothes.  His skin was covered in goosebumps and he shivered.  He felt a twinge of nausea and he leaned forward with his head down and leaned his hands against his knees, willing it to pass.  After he recovered, he turned on the faucet and let the steaming hot water cascade down his body, enveloping him in warmth.

Now that he was nice and clean, he put on new clothes.  Showering made him really tired, and now his body felt sluggish and heavy, as if gravity was working extra duty on him.  Out of nowhere, a stab of pain hit his stomach and he leaned forward.  He rubbed the area with his fingers as he winced.  Maybe he had the stomach flu, he guessed.  After all, he wasn’t very hungry, and that was usually a sign of the flu.

As if on cue, Hunk entered the showers to find him.  “Hey, Keith.  Dinner’s ready.  I heard they made your favorite!”  

“Thanks, Hunk.  Be there in a minute.”  Keith put on his shoes and socks, cringing at the pain this caused his stomach.  He decided he’d better show up for dinner anyway so he wouldn’t worry anyone.  He dried off his hair and made his way slowly to the dining hall, careful not to jar his torso.

Everyone was already seated when he got there and the food was already in front of them.  He sat down, noticing Lance’s concerned glances out of the corner of his eye. What Keith hadn’t prepared for was the strong scent of the food wafting in the room and from his plate before him. He felt like he was going to be sick.

Keith picked at his food with his fork but never took a bite.  He sipped the water from his glass and that’s all he was able to choke down before he had had it.  He needed to get out of here before he lost all dignity.

He excused himself and left abruptly.  Once he was out of sight, he ran down the hall and into a bathroom, vomiting into the nearest toilet.  The ache in his stomach was getting stronger.  He just needed to rest.  That was all.

He went back to his bedroom and lay down in bed.  A moment later, there was a knock at the door.  “Keith?  You okay?”

It was Lance.  Keith groaned.  He didn’t want anyone seeing him like this, especially Lance.  “Come in,” he croaked.

Lance entered and Keith prepared himself for the jokes.  

“Came to make fun of me for throwing up?” he said, staring up at the ceiling.

Instead of the usual humor, Lance’s voice was calm and caring.  “You did?  Are you feeling bad?”

Keith turned to look at him and was surprised to see concern in his eyes. Huh, that’s different.  “I think it’s a stomach virus or something.  I’ll be fine.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.  Here, I brought you something.”  He placed a plate of pie on Keith’s nightstand.  

Keith chuckled, but winced and brought his hand to his aching stomach, rubbing at it mindlessly.  “You brought me dessert?”

Instead of answering, Lance was swift to move to his side, his face in a hard frown.  “Are you in pain?  Does your stomach hurt?”

Keith flinched as he tried sitting up, but managed to lean his back against the wall.  “A bit. It’s been kind of achy all day.” Keith raised an eyebrow and looked him in the eye.  “Lance, why do you care so much?  You’re acting kind of. . . strange.”

Lance blushed and looked down at his hands as he took a deep breath. “Keith, I have something to tell you and I’ve been hesitating since I didn’t know if you felt the same, but since you’re asking and all and can’t exactly walk away from me right now, I um, I sorta, kinda. . . like you?” he said, with a questioning look on his face.

Keith said nothing at first, just taking it all in, his face unreadable. There was no look of disgust at least, so hopefully the confession wasn’t too out of line.

“Well, say something, dumbo.  My heart’s racing and now I hope you don’t hate me.”

“Hate you?” Keith said without missing a beat.  He put his hand on Lance’s knee, making Lance’s heart skip a beat. “Why would I hate you?  No, Lance, I kind of like you, too.”  

Keith’s confession got Lance’s spirits soaring and a smile graced his lips. “Really?” Lance asked.  “You’re not playing around with me?”

“I’m serious,” Keith said.  Another jolt of pain stabbed his stomach, but this time, the pain moved to his right side. He yelped and grabbed at it with his hands.  

Lance’s eyes went to Keith’s stomach.  “Are you okay?  What’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing.  Just my side,” he said, closing his eyes as he rode out the pain.

Lance sat down next to him on the bed.  “Keith, you might want to get that checked out, or maybe Coran can fix up a pod for you.”

Keith groaned.  The worst of the pain in his side had passed, but now it was a dull ache.  “Pods don’t work on sickness.  I’ll be fine.”

“Can I get you something?”  He thought about maybe bringing him some warm soup from the kitchen, and started heading that way.  “There’s soup.”

Keith’s hand caught his knee and pulled him back.  “Lance, don’t go!  Can’t you just stay with me?  For a little while?”

He couldn’t say no to those sleepy, tired yet desperate eyes.  What was even more gratifying was that those pleading eyes wanted him, of all paladins, Keith wanted him to stay with him!  His stomach did a flip of excitement and he smiled gently.  “Yeah, sure, Keith.”  

Keith patted the space next to him on the bed.  Lance swallowed and took off his shoes and lay next to the sick boy.  Keith smiled weakly at him and Lance took that as a cue that maybe it would be okay to put his arm around him.  

He worried that would be too much too soon, but Keith immediately lowered himself back on his pillow and nuzzled himself into Lance’s side.  Lance rubbed his back gently and saw Keith’s eyes shut. Lance never thought he’d be able to get this close to Keith, not in a million years.  He rubbed his fingers up and down his covered back, waiting for when Keith would roll over and sock him, but the punch never came.  

He studied Keith’s face.  It was pale and sweaty, and Keith’s brows knitted together like he was in pain. Keith sucked in a breath and put his hand to his side again and Lance heard a slight grunt leave his lips.  

Lance put his hand on top of Keith’s, his emotions now overcome with worry. “Does it hurt that bad?” he asked Keith. Keith opened his eyes and responded with a moan.  

Lance didn’t think this was just a simple stomach bug.  There might be more to it.  “Keith, I-“

He was cut off by Allura’s voice echoing the halls.  “Paladins, I need you!  It’s an emergency!”

“You stay here,” Lance said to Keith.  “I’ll go see what she needs.”

Lance stepped outside and was met with Hunk, Pidge, Shiro, and Allura. Allura explained that a prisoner needed rescuing from the Galra and it was either now or never.  

“But Allura-“

“Lance, I don’t have time to argue.  If we don’t act now, they’ll go into hyperdrive.  Now, everyone suit- wait, where’s Keith?” Allura said, just now realizing he was missing.

“Right here,” Keith said.

Everyone turned to see him.  He was tired looking, his eyes sunken with dark spots beneath them.  His cheeks had lost all color to them.  

“What are you doing up?” Lance demanded.  “You’re sick!”

“I’m fine, Lance,” Keith argued.  

“What do you mean?  You’re sick?” Allura said.

“I’m fine.  It’s just a little stomach bug or something, but I can handle it.”

Before Lance could protest, Allura called out her orders and everyone was off getting ready to enter their lions and prepare to go to war, leaving the two of them alone in the hallway.

Lance put his hands on his hips.  “Keith, I don’t think this is a good idea.  You could cause yourself more harm.”

They began walking towards Keith’s room and Keith had his hand over his aching side, which was becoming even more painful, but he’d never tell Lance that. “You heard Allura.  It sounded pretty urgent, and we’ll need to form Voltron. You and I both know we can’t do that without me.”

He had a point there.  “Are you sure?  You can barely walk.”

Keith was silent as he painfully walked the rest of the way to his room ahead of Lance.  

“Just promise me this, Keith.  If things get bad and you feel worse, tell us and give up, okay?”

Keith turned around.  “Okay. Promise.”

Keith suited up and headed to his Lion.  The team flew off together, with Shiro in the lead.  Allura stayed back in the castle with Coran.  They seemed to travel forever.  Keith’s side was flaring up much worse than before.  He hoped they would get somewhere soon.  He heard Allura in his headset saying they were getting closer.

As they proceeded farther out into space, a jolt of pain stabbed him in the side again, forcing him to double over in pain.  He couldn’t help the scream this time that tore through his lips and into the headset for all to hear.

All the paladins were suddenly in his ears, asking what was wrong.

“Keith, are you okay?”  Lance’s voice held the most weight, as his was laced with panic.  

Keith couldn’t speak.  His side was throbbing and burning with pain.  It was all he could do to hold his side with one hand and steer his lion with the other, much less keep himself upright in his seat.  Tears were streaming down his face, blurring his vision. He was burning hot and wanted to throw his suit off.  

“Lance!” was all he got out.

“Baby, just hang in there.  I’m coming,” Lance said without thinking.  

“Baby?” all the paladins were thinking.  

“I can’t—” Keith said, and that’s when pain tore at his side, blinding him with pain.  He lost control of his lion and fell from his seat.  He shut his eyes and lay on the floor, covering his right side with both hands, trying to breath through the pain.  He was paralyzed with agony, unable to get up or talk.  

Lance and the paladins followed Keith’s lion as it flew with a mind of its own. It raced through space and then plummeted straight towards an unknown planet.  

“Keith, what’s wrong?  Are you there?” Lance asked, shaking in fear.

“Keith, it’s Pidge.  You’ve got to take back the controls.  You’re about to crash!”

“He’s not responding,” Shiro said.  “Keith!”

Keith heard the shoutings, the fear in everyone’s voices, but he was in too much pain to react.  

“Keith, get up for me.  It’s Lance! You have to do something!”  

Keith tore open his eyes at the sound of Lance’s concerned voice.  The pain was starting to fade a little, and he forced himself up and managed to grip the brakes.  Just before crashing into the planet, he was able to at least slow down the impact.  

Keith was tossed around his lion like a ragdoll, falling hard on his right shoulder with a sickening crack.  His cries were muffled by the sound of his ship colliding and finally settling on wherever it was he had crash landed.  

The other paladins were able to follow and landed their lions next to him within minutes.  Voices stirred him from his sleep.  He woke up, his mind fuzzy and his whole body hurting.  He felt hands at his neck, cradling his head and stroking his hair. His eyes focused and noticed Lance’s face first, hovering above his face.  The other paladins were staring wide-eyed at him, looking relieved to see him awaken.

“Keith, are you okay?” Shiro said.

Lance reached out to hold Keith’s hand, and Keith clasped it, holding on tightly. He couldn’t respond.  He felt another wave of pain stab him in the side, this one even worse than before.  He let go of Lance’s hand and put it on his side as he screamed in pain, as if trying to hold himself together.  

His other arm was useless as it had been injured in the crash.  He couldn’t move it at all without feeling severe pain. Keith thrashed around, crying from the pain in his side and then crying out when he accidently jostled his shoulder. His whole body felt bruised and beaten.

Allura cut in, asking what had happened.  “Is Keith okay?”

Hunk took this time to answer.  “Keith’s not doing very well.  Can a pod fix him?”  

Pidge noticed Hunk’s sullen face, which was an unusual expression for him. She put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him, smiling at him silently.  

“I’m afraid pods only heal injuries.  From the description of his symptoms, it sounds like Keith has appendicitis,” she stated.  “And neither I nor Coran can help him with this.  We’ll need to find someone on this planet for help.  It’s his only hope.”

Meanwhile, Lance kneeled at Keith’s side, stroking his face and helping to hold his side with his own hand, not really sure if he was helping or not.  He only wanted to comfort him and help him feel less pain in whatever way possible.  

After the initial pain from his side waned a little, Keith opened his eyes to look at Lance.  “Lance, my shoulder hurts.”

Lance’s eyes widened at the news.  Of course.  He’d been so worried about his side that he forgot that he had crashed.  With a landing like that, it’s likely had had more injuries. “Okay, buddy.  I’m glad you told us.  Does anything else hurt?”

His side hurt so bad and it was hard to register any other pain in his body, but he couldn’t deny the soreness.  “Everything hurts, Lance.”

Lance scanned his body and saw a dark spot on his knee.  He pulled up his pant leg to find a shallow cut on his knee. “You’ve got a cut on your knee that’s bleeding.  Not too bad.”

Keith just nodded, wiping at the tears on his cheeks.  

“Listen, I’m gonna feel for injuries, okay?  Tell me if you feel any tenderness.”  Keith nodded so Lance proceeded.  He started with his feet and then rotated his ankles.  When there was no complaint from Keith, he moved onto his legs.  He applied some pressure as he slid both hands up his calves, and he saw Keith wince.  “Something here hurt?”

“My right leg,” Keith said.  Lance lifted his pants to find a couple really dark bruises on his shin.  He informed Keith what was wrong and continued his check.  He slid his hands to his thighs and patted them down gently.  

Not wanting to spend too much time on this area, he then went to Keith’s hips. From his hips, he spread his hands across the length of Keiths’ chest, feeling his ribcage.  Another flinch from Keith’s face, followed by an “ouch,” made him stop.  “Hurts here?”

Keith nodded.  

“Mind if I look?” Lance asked bashfully.  When Keith gave his permission, Lance lifted his t-shirt.  The right side of his chest was dotted with cuts and bruises that spread from his lower front to his side.  He must have been thrown around a lot in his lion during the crash to give him this much damage.  Lance pressed on the bruises gently and Keith yelped and winced.  

“Breathe in deeply,” Lance instructed.  “Does it hurt?”

Keith did as he was told, but it wasn’t too bad.  

“They might just be bruised then.  That’s a good sign.”  Lance lowered Keith’s shirt when Pidge had an announcement.  

“From what I’ve found, there’s what looks like a medical center just five miles north of us,” Pidge said, looking at her computer.

“But how do we know these inhabitants can be trusted?” Shiro said, his arms folded across his chest.

“We don’t,” Pidge said.  “But looking at Keith’s physical state, I think it’s a risk we’re going to have to take.”

Once everyone agreed, they decided they would make their way to this medical center.  Lance picked up Keith carefully and helped him walk to Lance’s lion.  Keith limped along with his good arm wrapped around Lance’s neck. When he was almost inside, another wave of pain seared his side, and Keith collapsed, falling down at Lance’s feet.

He yelled in pain, and Lance dropped down next to him, letting him squeeze his hand.  Lance brushed back the damp hair from Keith’s forehead, realizing that Keith also had a fever judging from the heat he felt from it.  “You’re gonna be okay, Keith.  Shhh, it’s okay.”

When they arrived at the center, they were greeted with swords and knives pointed at them.  “We come in peace,” Shiro said.  “Our friend if sick and needs medical attention.  Please, will someone help us?”

“What kind of payment can you give us?” the one in charge said.

“Whatever you need, just ask,” Shiro said.  Keith screamed in pain again.  “Please, he needs help.”

The creature agreed and they were ushered into the center.  The inhabitants on this planet were strange looking, but for such a small planet, they seemed to have a capable hospital.  It was clean enough and eased Lance’s mind a little, although it still worried him that these creatures were going to be working on his baby.

Keith was pried away from Lance’s arms and placed on a gurney.  “Hey, careful with him!  He’s hurt and he has pain in his side.”

“We’ll take care of him,” the creature said, pressing a claw to his chest. “You and the rest stay over here. We’ll call you when he’s done.”

Lance sat down wit a huff.  He hated leaving Ketih alone with these things.  What if they didn’t know anything about medicine?  His mind came up of different nightmares, ones involving Keith flatlining on the table or the creatures cutting off his shoulder instead of fixing it.  What had they just done to Keith?  The paladins were all worried but tried reassuring each other for the next two hours.

Just as Lance was about to break through the doors and go see about Keith himself, the doctor came out.  “Your friend is doing fine.  We’ve taken out his appendix and you’re welcome to go see him.” They followed him to the room in haste, almost running all the way there.

Keith had on an oxygen mask and looked to be sleeping.  His arm was in a sling and he was shirtless except for the bandages around his chest.  His face looked peaceful, but tired.  

The doctor spoke.  “Your friend suffered an inflamed appendix, and it would have ruptured within the hour if you hadn’t gotten him help in time.  He also has a broken shoulder, bruised leg, as well as several bruised ribs and a few other minor lacerations.  He’ll be pretty sore for a few weeks.”

“Thanks, doctor,” Shiro said.  “Your help is appreciated very much.”

“Now, about my payment,” the creature said.  Shiro excused himself to pay for the service at the front desk.

Lance rubbed at Keith’s good arm and Keith began to stir.  He blinked his eyes and his hand went to the oxygen mask, trying to pry it off.  

“Hey, hey.   Let’s leave that on for now, bud.  How ya feel?” Lance asked, smiling.

Keith moaned.  “Sore. What happened?”  He moved his body and was rewarded by a stinging pain in his side.  It was sharp, but not like it used to be.  “Ow.”

“The doctor removed your appendix.  Said it was about to rupture,” Lance said.

“Yeah, you got pretty lucky,” Hunk said, looking much happier than before.  “Thanks to Pidge.”

“It was nothing,” Pidge said modestly, brushing the comment off.  “I’m glad you’re better.”

“Are you okay?” Lance asked.  

“My side doesn’t hurt as bad, only when I move, but now my ribs and shoulder hurts.”  He looked down to notice the bandages around his chest and found his arm immobilized in a sling.

Lance explained to him his injuries from what the doctor told him and told him not to worry.  “You’ll feel better soon.  And besides, you’ve got me.”

Hunk and Pidge stared at him, a knowing look on their faces.  “Yeah,” Pidge said.  “About that?”

“You two have been acting awfully close today.  Is there something you’re not telling us?” Hunk asked.  

Lance and Keith grinned at each other, both blushing.  “We’re kind of. . . together.”  Lance put his arm around Keith.

That’s when Shiro walked in the door and fainted.

“Um, I’ll go get the nurse.”  Hunk said.

He knew it.  He and Pidge’s suspicions were right all along.  He had to admit it was cute and he found himself smiling as he walked down the halls.  

[jesseneufeld]

The plight of nursing home residents in a pandemic

For anyone living in a nursing home or other long-term or assisted-living facility, these are particularly difficult times. I’ve heard more than one resident complain bitterly about feeling trapped in their rooms, having meals left outside their door (rather than gathering in the dining room with friends), and not being allowed to participate in their routine activities or have visitors. “They’re treating me like a prisoner,” said one resident I know. Yes, for many, it’s feeling more like a prison than the place they knew as home before the pandemic.

And yet there are good reasons for all the restrictions. A recent analysis shows that residents of nursing homes and assisted living facilities account for 42% of all COVID-19 deaths in the US. In more than a dozen states, over half of deaths were among nursing home residents. West Virginia (80%), Minnesota (80%), and Rhode Island (73%) had the highest rates.

Unfortunately, nursing homes and other long-term care facilities offer the perfect breeding grounds for viral infections like the novel coronavirus: many people living indoors in close quarters and in close contact — in fact, regularly dining and socializing together.

Other contributors include:

Advanced age is a risk factor for more severe illness with COVID-19.

Chronic medical conditions. Hypertension, heart, lung, and kidney disease, and diabetes are common among nursing home residents.

Inadequate testing and access to personal protective equipment.

Ability to follow preventive measures. Those with dementia may not remember to wear a mask or maintain a social distance.

Family adherence to preventive measures. Family members may try to bypass restrictions established by long-term care facilities because they feel the risks of COVID-19 are lower than the risks of keeping their loved one socially distanced, or they may be skeptical about the seriousness of COVID-19.

Care needs. For people who need help dressing, bathing, and eating, it is impossible for staff to maintain social distance. Staff may lack necessary protective equipment, or find nearly constant mask-wearing and frequent disinfecting and hand sanitizing hard to maintain.

Shared spaces. In many places, residents share bathrooms, bedrooms, dining rooms, and activity areas. Modifying how and where residents spend their days is challenging, especially for smaller facilities with tight budgets and little flexibility in the physical layout.

Vulnerable staff. COVID-19 tends to be more severe among people who are poorer and members of minority groups (especially African Americans). Many employees in long-term care facilities are members of these higher-risk groups. Many cannot afford to miss work, and may work at more than one facility. So, if a staff member becomes ill, they may spread infection before they know they have it. Or, they may feel they need to keep working if their symptoms are mild.

Understaffing, low pay, and high staff turnover are particularly common in this industry, and may also be important contributors.

What happens when a resident develops COVID-19?

Once someone develops COVID-19 in a nursing home, they’re isolated from others and receive necessary medical care. But, then what? If they are recovering but not sick enough to be in a hospital, where can they go? Many long-term care facilities have set aside separate areas (and separate staff) to look after them. But not every place can do this. Even with the best efforts, any infected individual can trigger an outbreak in a facility. And of course, there has to be a plan in place to end the isolation of infected residents — yet it may not be clear when isolation can end without risking spread of the virus.

Keeping residents safe from COVID-19

Some care facilities have been spared an outbreak of the virus so far. Enacting protective measures right away and training staff and residents about how to avoid the virus may have played a role. Some facilities tested staff and residents early in the outbreak and repeatedly, so that anyone infected could be separated from everyone else.

Other factors in their success might include low rates of community spread, a lower number of residents, and halting new admissions (or requiring a two-week quarantine of any new residents). Some credit having staff agree to work in only one facility and providing pay raises to make this possible.

Guidelines from the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services (CMS) and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) recommended certain restrictions: limiting visits, no communal dining or group activities, daily screening for symptoms or fever, requiring staff to wear masks. Possibly, facilities that conscientiously followed these guidelines were more successful at avoiding outbreaks. In many states, outdoor visits are recommended because the risk of spreading the virus is lower outside.

Some nursing homes are relaxing visitor restrictions

Recently, CMS released new recommendations about relaxing visitation restrictions that include

testing all staff every week. Residents should have a baseline test and repeat testing if any other resident or staff member tests positive or has symptoms suggesting COVID-19.

no new cases for at least a month

adequate personal protective equipment and cleaning supplies

adequate staffing

adequate hospital and ICU beds nearby to take care of residents needing this care.

In many places, these ambitious goals will not be met for weeks or even months from now. Yet it’s clear that nursing homes cannot remain closed to visitors indefinitely. The impact of isolation on residents is just too great. So hopefully, protective measures and community containment of the virus will safely allow visits to resume soon.

The cost of isolation

Even if those living in long-term facilities manage to avoid the virus that causes COVID-19, it’s important to recognize that the mitigation efforts may take a terrible toll. Social interactions matter at every age. Extensive research on older adults links a strong social network to better psychological well-being and physical health.

The impact may be particularly profound on people who are elderly, already have dementia, disability, and psychological problems: these are precisely the people for whom social connectedness, routine, and structure are most important. The pandemic has taken a lot of this away from them.

The way forward

Measures to help residents avoid getting COVID-19 are essential. But so are strategies to help counter isolation, such as:

re-introducing activities that allow distancing (such as book clubs, art classes, or bingo)

encouraging outdoor activities, including ones that used to be held indoors (such as art or music classes)

frequent video or telephone contact with family, which staff may be helpful in setting up. Some nursing homes purchased iPads for residents to allow them to have virtual visits, take virtual walks, or watch a movie with family.

frequent “window visits” and bringing in favorite meals if allowed

establishing “bubbles” of residents who have quarantined and can socialize

sending some people home if there’s adequate support there; this may require major improvements in the availability and capabilities of home care (which will require funding).

While much has been done to contain COVID-19 outbreaks in long-term care facilities, the toll has been substantial, and many residents still feel imprisoned. Balancing the risks of infection with the risks of mitigation efforts will continue to present an enormous challenge to nursing homes and long-term care facilities until the pandemic is under control, or we have effective treatments or a vaccine. Talk to the management of your loved one’s facility to find out what more you can do.

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For anyone living in a nursing home or other long-term or assisted-living facility, these are particularly difficult times. I’ve heard more than one resident complain bitterly about feeling trapped in their rooms, having meals left outside their door (rather than gathering in the dining room with friends), and not being allowed to participate in their routine activities or have visitors. “They’re treating me like a prisoner,” said one resident I know. Yes, for many, it’s feeling more like a prison than the place they knew as home before the pandemic.

And yet there are good reasons for all the restrictions. A recent analysis shows that residents of nursing homes and assisted living facilities account for 42% of all COVID-19 deaths in the US. In more than a dozen states, over half of deaths were among nursing home residents. West Virginia (80%), Minnesota (80%), and Rhode Island (73%) had the highest rates.

Unfortunately, nursing homes and other long-term care facilities offer the perfect breeding grounds for viral infections like the novel coronavirus: many people living indoors in close quarters and in close contact — in fact, regularly dining and socializing together.

Other contributors include:

Advanced age is a risk factor for more severe illness with COVID-19.

Chronic medical conditions. Hypertension, heart, lung, and kidney disease, and diabetes are common among nursing home residents.

Inadequate testing and access to personal protective equipment.

Ability to follow preventive measures. Those with dementia may not remember to wear a mask or maintain a social distance.

Family adherence to preventive measures. Family members may try to bypass restrictions established by long-term care facilities because they feel the risks of COVID-19 are lower than the risks of keeping their loved one socially distanced, or they may be skeptical about the seriousness of COVID-19.

Care needs. For people who need help dressing, bathing, and eating, it is impossible for staff to maintain social distance. Staff may lack necessary protective equipment, or find nearly constant mask-wearing and frequent disinfecting and hand sanitizing hard to maintain.

Shared spaces. In many places, residents share bathrooms, bedrooms, dining rooms, and activity areas. Modifying how and where residents spend their days is challenging, especially for smaller facilities with tight budgets and little flexibility in the physical layout.

Vulnerable staff. COVID-19 tends to be more severe among people who are poorer and members of minority groups (especially African Americans). Many employees in long-term care facilities are members of these higher-risk groups. Many cannot afford to miss work, and may work at more than one facility. So, if a staff member becomes ill, they may spread infection before they know they have it. Or, they may feel they need to keep working if their symptoms are mild.

Understaffing, low pay, and high staff turnover are particularly common in this industry, and may also be important contributors.

What happens when a resident develops COVID-19?

Once someone develops COVID-19 in a nursing home, they’re isolated from others and receive necessary medical care. But, then what? If they are recovering but not sick enough to be in a hospital, where can they go? Many long-term care facilities have set aside separate areas (and separate staff) to look after them. But not every place can do this. Even with the best efforts, any infected individual can trigger an outbreak in a facility. And of course, there has to be a plan in place to end the isolation of infected residents — yet it may not be clear when isolation can end without risking spread of the virus.

Keeping residents safe from COVID-19

Some care facilities have been spared an outbreak of the virus so far. Enacting protective measures right away and training staff and residents about how to avoid the virus may have played a role. Some facilities tested staff and residents early in the outbreak and repeatedly, so that anyone infected could be separated from everyone else.

Other factors in their success might include low rates of community spread, a lower number of residents, and halting new admissions (or requiring a two-week quarantine of any new residents). Some credit having staff agree to work in only one facility and providing pay raises to make this possible.

Guidelines from the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services (CMS) and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) recommended certain restrictions: limiting visits, no communal dining or group activities, daily screening for symptoms or fever, requiring staff to wear masks. Possibly, facilities that conscientiously followed these guidelines were more successful at avoiding outbreaks. In many states, outdoor visits are recommended because the risk of spreading the virus is lower outside.

Some nursing homes are relaxing visitor restrictions

Recently, CMS released new recommendations about relaxing visitation restrictions that include

testing all staff every week. Residents should have a baseline test and repeat testing if any other resident or staff member tests positive or has symptoms suggesting COVID-19.

no new cases for at least a month

adequate personal protective equipment and cleaning supplies

adequate staffing

adequate hospital and ICU beds nearby to take care of residents needing this care.

In many places, these ambitious goals will not be met for weeks or even months from now. Yet it’s clear that nursing homes cannot remain closed to visitors indefinitely. The impact of isolation on residents is just too great. So hopefully, protective measures and community containment of the virus will safely allow visits to resume soon.

The cost of isolation

Even if those living in long-term facilities manage to avoid the virus that causes COVID-19, it’s important to recognize that the mitigation efforts may take a terrible toll. Social interactions matter at every age. Extensive research on older adults links a strong social network to better psychological well-being and physical health.

The impact may be particularly profound on people who are elderly, already have dementia, disability, and psychological problems: these are precisely the people for whom social connectedness, routine, and structure are most important. The pandemic has taken a lot of this away from them.

The way forward

Measures to help residents avoid getting COVID-19 are essential. But so are strategies to help counter isolation, such as:

re-introducing activities that allow distancing (such as book clubs, art classes, or bingo)

encouraging outdoor activities, including ones that used to be held indoors (such as art or music classes)

frequent video or telephone contact with family, which staff may be helpful in setting up. Some nursing homes purchased iPads for residents to allow them to have virtual visits, take virtual walks, or watch a movie with family.

frequent “window visits” and bringing in favorite meals if allowed

establishing “bubbles” of residents who have quarantined and can socialize

sending some people home if there’s adequate support there; this may require major improvements in the availability and capabilities of home care (which will require funding).

While much has been done to contain COVID-19 outbreaks in long-term care facilities, the toll has been substantial, and many residents still feel imprisoned. Balancing the risks of infection with the risks of mitigation efforts will continue to present an enormous challenge to nursing homes and long-term care facilities until the pandemic is under control, or we have effective treatments or a vaccine. Talk to the management of your loved one’s facility to find out what more you can do.

The post The plight of nursing home residents in a pandemic appeared first on Harvard Health Blog.

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The plight of nursing home residents in a pandemic

For anyone living in a nursing home or other long-term or assisted-living facility, these are particularly difficult times. I’ve heard more than one resident complain bitterly about feeling trapped in their rooms, having meals left outside their door (rather than gathering in the dining room with friends), and not being allowed to participate in their routine activities or have visitors. “They’re treating me like a prisoner,” said one resident I know. Yes, for many, it’s feeling more like a prison than the place they knew as home before the pandemic.

And yet there are good reasons for all the restrictions. A recent analysis shows that residents of nursing homes and assisted living facilities account for 42% of all COVID-19 deaths in the US. In more than a dozen states, over half of deaths were among nursing home residents. West Virginia (80%), Minnesota (80%), and Rhode Island (73%) had the highest rates.

Unfortunately, nursing homes and other long-term care facilities offer the perfect breeding grounds for viral infections like the novel coronavirus: many people living indoors in close quarters and in close contact — in fact, regularly dining and socializing together.

Other contributors include:

Advanced age is a risk factor for more severe illness with COVID-19.

Chronic medical conditions. Hypertension, heart, lung, and kidney disease, and diabetes are common among nursing home residents.

Inadequate testing and access to personal protective equipment.

Ability to follow preventive measures. Those with dementia may not remember to wear a mask or maintain a social distance.

Family adherence to preventive measures. Family members may try to bypass restrictions established by long-term care facilities because they feel the risks of COVID-19 are lower than the risks of keeping their loved one socially distanced, or they may be skeptical about the seriousness of COVID-19.

Care needs. For people who need help dressing, bathing, and eating, it is impossible for staff to maintain social distance. Staff may lack necessary protective equipment, or find nearly constant mask-wearing and frequent disinfecting and hand sanitizing hard to maintain.

Shared spaces. In many places, residents share bathrooms, bedrooms, dining rooms, and activity areas. Modifying how and where residents spend their days is challenging, especially for smaller facilities with tight budgets and little flexibility in the physical layout.

Vulnerable staff. COVID-19 tends to be more severe among people who are poorer and members of minority groups (especially African Americans). Many employees in long-term care facilities are members of these higher-risk groups. Many cannot afford to miss work, and may work at more than one facility. So, if a staff member becomes ill, they may spread infection before they know they have it. Or, they may feel they need to keep working if their symptoms are mild.

Understaffing, low pay, and high staff turnover are particularly common in this industry, and may also be important contributors.

What happens when a resident develops COVID-19?

Once someone develops COVID-19 in a nursing home, they’re isolated from others and receive necessary medical care. But, then what? If they are recovering but not sick enough to be in a hospital, where can they go? Many long-term care facilities have set aside separate areas (and separate staff) to look after them. But not every place can do this. Even with the best efforts, any infected individual can trigger an outbreak in a facility. And of course, there has to be a plan in place to end the isolation of infected residents — yet it may not be clear when isolation can end without risking spread of the virus.

Keeping residents safe from COVID-19

Some care facilities have been spared an outbreak of the virus so far. Enacting protective measures right away and training staff and residents about how to avoid the virus may have played a role. Some facilities tested staff and residents early in the outbreak and repeatedly, so that anyone infected could be separated from everyone else.

Other factors in their success might include low rates of community spread, a lower number of residents, and halting new admissions (or requiring a two-week quarantine of any new residents). Some credit having staff agree to work in only one facility and providing pay raises to make this possible.

Guidelines from the Centers for Medicare & Medicaid Services (CMS) and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) recommended certain restrictions: limiting visits, no communal dining or group activities, daily screening for symptoms or fever, requiring staff to wear masks. Possibly, facilities that conscientiously followed these guidelines were more successful at avoiding outbreaks. In many states, outdoor visits are recommended because the risk of spreading the virus is lower outside.

Some nursing homes are relaxing visitor restrictions

Recently, CMS released new recommendations about relaxing visitation restrictions that include

testing all staff every week. Residents should have a baseline test and repeat testing if any other resident or staff member tests positive or has symptoms suggesting COVID-19.

no new cases for at least a month

adequate personal protective equipment and cleaning supplies

adequate staffing

adequate hospital and ICU beds nearby to take care of residents needing this care.

In many places, these ambitious goals will not be met for weeks or even months from now. Yet it’s clear that nursing homes cannot remain closed to visitors indefinitely. The impact of isolation on residents is just too great. So hopefully, protective measures and community containment of the virus will safely allow visits to resume soon.

The cost of isolation

Even if those living in long-term facilities manage to avoid the virus that causes COVID-19, it’s important to recognize that the mitigation efforts may take a terrible toll. Social interactions matter at every age. Extensive research on older adults links a strong social network to better psychological well-being and physical health.

The impact may be particularly profound on people who are elderly, already have dementia, disability, and psychological problems: these are precisely the people for whom social connectedness, routine, and structure are most important. The pandemic has taken a lot of this away from them.

The way forward

Measures to help residents avoid getting COVID-19 are essential. But so are strategies to help counter isolation, such as:

re-introducing activities that allow distancing (such as book clubs, art classes, or bingo)

encouraging outdoor activities, including ones that used to be held indoors (such as art or music classes)

frequent video or telephone contact with family, which staff may be helpful in setting up. Some nursing homes purchased iPads for residents to allow them to have virtual visits, take virtual walks, or watch a movie with family.

frequent “window visits” and bringing in favorite meals if allowed

establishing “bubbles” of residents who have quarantined and can socialize

sending some people home if there’s adequate support there; this may require major improvements in the availability and capabilities of home care (which will require funding).

While much has been done to contain COVID-19 outbreaks in long-term care facilities, the toll has been substantial, and many residents still feel imprisoned. Balancing the risks of infection with the risks of mitigation efforts will continue to present an enormous challenge to nursing homes and long-term care facilities until the pandemic is under control, or we have effective treatments or a vaccine. Talk to the management of your loved one’s facility to find out what more you can do.

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