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killthe-illusionarydreams · 4 years ago

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Chronic Emptiness

Fred x reader

After the war

Summary: Y/N having a depressive episode & Fred trying to help her through it. Basically me living vicariously through her. Soft moment.

Warning: Mentions of depression & plainly feeling like shit

——————

Y/N was exhausted. Not by her job or work, just mentally drained. This sort of thing happened sometimes. One moment she was okay, the next it all came crashing down on her & she’d feel pure hatred for the world she was living in. Fred had gotten used to it by now, he’d be the ever so caring boyfriend & try to help her through it however he could. Exept he really couldnt do much but reassure Y/N that he was there for her.

And of course Y/N appreciated him & all his efforts, she loved Fred more than life itself & everyone knew that. But sometimes she just needed space. Like today.

They were at a bar with George & Angelina and several other mates after their shifts had all ended from their various occupations. George & Fred at their joke shop, Angelia at the Ministry, Y/N at St Mungos.

Y/N never truly felt like she belonged, not growing up at home, not at Hogwarts, & certainly not in St Mungos where she was working as a nurse. Its not that she hated the job, more like it didn’t particularly cause her immediate joy. She just did it. She got on with it & did what she had to.

As her friends were dancing to the music Y/N leant into her boyfriends ear so he’d hear her say “Hey Fred I think I’m gonna head home early today, I’m tired.”

The man looked up at her, as if trying to read her thoughts “D’you want me to come with love?”

Y/N shook her head, declining the offer “No dont worry. I’ll go through the park, I need some fresh air anyway.” Fred nodded & bid her goodbye with a kiss, telling her to stay safe. “I’ll see you at home.”

It was already dark outside, the tall streetlamps being the main source of light for the woman, but she wasnt really paying attention to where she way going, not caring enough to look. Y/N got to the park near the flat where her & Fred lived, deciding to make a pitstop there she sat on one of the wooden benches that overlooked a small river.

Letting out a heavy sigh she put her head into the palms of her hands, it was feeling all too heavy lately. “Dear Merlin I’m so tired.” Mumbling, the woman rolled her head in her hands before sitting back up and gazing at the sky. Oh how beautiful it looked tonight.

Lighting up a cigarette, she put it to her lips & took a long inhale. She was supposed to be quitting smoking, Fred always got on her about continuing the habbit. In all honesty Y/N didnt care enough to stop, at this point she wasnt even sure if she still got the same boost of seratonin from smoking as she used to. But again, it didnt bother her.

“Fuck me why is life so draining?” She asked no one in particular, she knew why it was draining, the abundance of issues with her brain promptly being the answer. She just wished it were easier. Easier to deal with things.

Realistically Y/N had nothing to be unhappy about anymore, there was no war, she had a good life, an amazing boyfriend, a stable job, decent friends. But there was a permanent void in her heart that could never be filled. Ever since she was a child it stayed with her. Maybe her cold & harsh, unloving parents brought it on, or maybe how she didnt let herself feel love & would distance herself from anyone that ever got close to her. But it was there. Unmovable.

The woman let the smoke out from her mouth, sighing at why she was having another one of her episodes, feeling shitty about having said episode. Yet, there was nothing she could do to stop it from occuring. “Fuck off brain.” She mumbled to herself, cursing her biology & upbringing “Stop feeling so Shit.”

“I keep you alive you ungrateful idiot.” She huffed to herself “And I’m doing a pretty good job, so stop making me feel like its my fault.” It wasnt her fault. If it were, Y/N would know how to fix it & evidently stop feeing this way.

Some would say the war brought this Y/N on, but people knew that she was like this way before. However, before she was better at hiding it. Better at hiding the dark circles, the restlessness, the ‘I dont care what happens to me’ attitude. In all honesty it didnt bother Y/N that people knew she was like this, she didnt do it on purpose. And when she could- she’d be happy- the life of the party, in those instances she could hide her feelings. But sometimes they just got too overwhelming to bare.

“You’re being such a selfish prick.” She sighed and puffed on yet another cigarette “Go home Y/N. Go to the man who loves you.” Yet she made no motion to move. It’d probably been two hours since she left the bar, she wasnt keeping track of time, not feeling the need to.

Sometimes she thought that Fred didnt love her, not because he said something or did something, but because she thought that Fred puts up with her. Which wasn’t true, the man loved her to death, she made him feel alive. Y/N was a risk taker, an adventurer, someone that kept you on your toes- & he admired that about her. Y/N was smart & funny & the most gorgeous person Fred had ever seen, but he knew that behind her sarcasm & faux narcissistic comments, she didnt believe it. Oh what he’d give for the woman to see herself through his eyes.

A few more minutes passed & the woman got up with a sigh, throwing the butt of her cigarette down, she made her way home.

The door creaked open, a little too loudly for Y/N’s taste, she winced at the sound, hoping it wouldnt wake Fred.

“Where were you?” The light flicked on. Before her stood a dischevelled Fred, arms crossed “I got home and you werent here.”

“I was in the park.” She mumbled, taking her coat off “Lost track of time, sorry.”

Fred looked at the woman before him, he noticed the dark circles that she tried to cover prefousley with makeup, noticed the ash on her jacket and faint aroma of smoke mixed with sadness.

“Its fine.” He reassured her and went to hug her, pretending to not notice her cold body & how she stiffened when he touched her ��Just let me know next time alright?”

The woman hummed in agreement and walked into the living room, as she sat on the couch she put the tv on to play some sort of muggle program but not really paying attention to it. She just didnt fancy Fred interrogating her about her feelings. She hated talking about them, normally just botteling them up. Maybe that was the cause of her unhappiness.

A few moments went by & she thought Fred had went to bed, but then she felt the couch sink next to her. “Here” he placed a blanket around her & handed her a hot mug of tea “You’re freezing.” Mumbling a thanks she sipped on her drink, not really feeling like talking she waited for him to say something, anything.

And he did “Is it getting bad again?” Oh. Was it? Probably. Most definitely.

“I’m fine.” She lied “I’ll be fine.” Y/N wasnt convincing anyone.

Fred watched her, not knowing what to say or do. He wished he could help, just magically cheer up the love of his life. But thats not how life worked. “You’re good enough.” He blurted out “You deserve to feel happy.”

Y/N didnt look up at him, she knew Fred was trying to help. But was he? I dont know.

“Do I though, do I really?” She finally asked with a sigh, those seemed to be coming from her a lot lately “Because I know I do, I just dont feel it coming to me and its so draining to get on with life when you feel worthless.”

Fred took in what she just said, pausing before trying to come up with a reasonable response “I know.” He sighed “I want to help you Y/N, what can I do?” What could he do though? Realistically?

“I dont know. Nothing. This’ll pass soon enough and I’ll be okay.”

Fred knew that, Y/N was always ‘okay’ or ‘fine’ or ‘just tired’ “But I want you to be better than okay. I want you to be happy, to enjoy life and all its moments.”

Y/N scoffed “And you think I dont want that?” There was a tense silence

“Why dont we take the day off tomorrow and go out somewhere? We havent done that in a while.” Fred suggested. It was true, with both of them being bombarded by work they hardly saw eachother in the last few months.

“Sure.” Y/N smiled sickly and set her tea down “Yeah alright I’ll just sack my job off to have a fun little date with you eh? Why not risk getting fired just because I’m feeling a little moody huh?”

Fred was taken aback by her words and immediately went back on what he said “If you dont want to thats fine I-“

“Im sorry” she cut him off “I’m sorry, that was a dick move I didnt mean it, just everythings gotten so much-“ she put her feet up on the couch to hug them “Im sorry.” A few stray tears fell onto her knees

Fred moved closer to her “Hey, its okay, its okay dont worry. I understand.” Oh sweet understanding Fred, Fred who gave you unconditional love and support. Fred who you keep snapping at.

Moments pass as he embraces you, your body leaning against his heavily. Not sure whether its the exhaustion or something else “I dont deserve you.” You mumble into his chest. He frowns cups your face in his hands, you lean in to his warm touch.

“Dont say that” you let out a quiet sob “Y/N you deserve the absolute world, and I wish I could give it to you & more. If I could take away your pain, I would. In an instant I would. You dont deserve to feel like this, to think like this. But I’m here for you okay. I love you, so fucking much you don’t understand.” He gazed into her eyes, wishing she could feel how much he meant it “You’re the best thing that happened to me & I’m going to prove it to you, whatever it takes Y/N.” He kissed your nose before letting you hug him tighter, relieved that you no longer shrunk away from his touch “Words cant express how much I love you.”

After a few more tears fall, Y/N laughs into his chest “Good because you’re stuck with me.”

Fred grins to himself “I wouldnt have it any other way.”

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dwaynepride · 6 years ago

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The Fool’s Form

Summary: “i like seeing you smile.” &Gibbs / Gibbs notices a pattern when it comes to you, and it forces him to realize his own feelings.

Words: 3,177

Warnings: None

Tags: @fairytale07 @jrenn10 @f4nboi @purplestarsr5 @ladyzombiielove @littlemiss3ma @specialagentlokitty @minikate--24-05 @consultingdoctorwholock @dressed-up-just-like-z1ggy @ms-allenbrown @ikbenplant @dylpickles1267

Notes: I went into this oneshot with no real planning so im sorry if it seems incoherent, at times.

The slight ring in his ears wouldn’t go away. Sticking around like an annoying gnat without any signs of disappearing. Gibbs figured it would be gone by tomorrow; this wasn’t his first experience with ringing ears. But when it was accompanied by a scratchy throat and itchy lungs and soot getting in his eyes sometimes, Gibbs wish ringing ears was his only problem.

His body ached. His nose was starting to hate the smell of smoke, but the fire in the building wasn’t completely out yet, and Gibbs couldn’t leave. Not until someone came to pick him up.

It was that or a hospital ride. Gibbs would rather be in the burning building.

He lets his eyes close for just a few moments, breathing in the fresh air the oxygen tank provided. The only rest he would get for the rest of the day, because once a member of his team comes to pick him up, it’ll be back to work. Trying to catch the guy who managed to escape and set the building ablaze with Gibbs still inside.

The sound of his name perked his ears up, his eyes opening in the direction of your voice. And his eyes were still a little scratchy from the dust. Gibbs pulls his oxygen mask away and rubs an eye as you near, saying his name once again. “Are you okay?” You ask him, and now that he can see a little clearer, he watches you look him over.

Gibbs nods once, clearing his throat so his voice wasn’t too messed up. That would only further worry you, and he didn’t want to do that. You already worried enough. “Any sign of the petty officer from the BOLO?”

Despite his efforts, his voice was scratchy and sounded like hell. You physically winced at the sound but shook your head anyway. “Not yet. Tony said he’d call as soon as something came up.” You tell him, wearing a small, worried frown. “I think you should go home.”

Gibbs shakes his head while setting the oxygen aside, deeming himself well enough to leave. That was the deal with the paramedic, anyway. “Gotta get back to work.” He states, forcing himself not to groan out loud as he stands. His muscles scream at the effort, telling him to sit back down. Get some rest. Maybe sleep for a couple days.

He barely hears you say his name again. More scolding, this time. And when Gibbs to fully on his feet, that’s when he notices your hand clutching his arm. No, he was standing up by himself. He didn’t need your help... “Gibbs, I really think-”

“Take me to the office.”

His voice is sharp; an order, if you’ve ever heard one. The harder tone of voice makes you blink at him. A bit of hurt flashing in your eyes that Gibbs regrets a little, but it gets you to nod and help him to the car. Somehow, he’s able to pull himself into the passenger seat without grunting. His body still aches, but he’ll get used to it.

You shut the door, glance sideways to Gibbs, and start up the engine. The burning building disappears in the rear view mirror. Gibbs grunts in effort as he tries to get comfortable in his seat. And you still can’t quite believe that he wants to go back to work.

He was stuck in that building, surrounded by fire and smoke.

He could have died.

That thought suddenly makes it difficult to breathe. If Gibbs wasn’t your intimidating Marine boss, you’d yell at him. Scold him for being so stupid. Not going to the hospital was one thing, but going back to work was another level of reckless.

Your eyes flicker away from the road to eye your boss. His head rested against the seat, hands in his lap, eyes blinking shut. Almost as if he was going to take a nap on the way to the office, and it gave you an idea. A dumb idea, but it seemed like a good one at the time.

Taking a right would lead back to the Naval Yard. You took a left instead.

The next time Gibbs opened his eyes, you were shaking him awake. Softly saying his name. When did he fall asleep? And why? He could normally stay up for days before passing out so quickly.

He grunts a little at your blurry form before opening the door. He just needed some coffee and he’d be right as rain. Maybe take about half a bottle of Advil for the ache in his muscles, but work comes first.

But once Gibbs closes the car door behind him and actually blinks the sleep from his eyes, he realizes he isn’t in the parking lot of the NCIS building. He’s in his driveway. At home.

Exhaustion slows his brain down a little, but once you come around to the other side of the car, Gibbs whips his head around. Frowning as much as he can with a face numbed with tiredness. “What the hell is this? Did you suddenly lose your hearing when I gave you an order?”

He must not have seemed as intimidating as he usually is. Because you just huff out a light sigh at his aggressive bark. “Gibbs, you can barely stand up straight. You’re exhausted and all beat up and my car is going to smell like smoke for at least a week.” Your head motions toward his house, putting on a small smile. “Please, just take a nap and a shower. I’m not asking for a week’s vacation.”

It might as well be, to Gibbs. He’d need to be shot before staying home when he doesn’t need to.

And he was about to say just that. Threaten unemployment and act like an angry bear until you caved. But something stopped him. Held him back. Maybe it was that look in your eye; it was an infuriatingly familiar one. Wide and sad and full of concern. Puppy-dog eyes to the max, and Gibbs was almost always swayed by such a look.

This was one of those times.

Though, the exertion of simply standing was a big contributing factor. Either way, he sighs hard. Head lolling down and shaking before he looks back up. “I want a report later. And if I don’t get one-”

“You’ll slap our heads clean off.” A smile instantly appeared on your face, having won the argument. You reach out, patting Gibbs on his shoulder and gesturing toward the house. “Now go. Get some sleep. I’ll bring you some dinner later on.”

Gibbs started walking, biting back the temptation to say something snarky. He usually hated being treated as if he was fragile. And he usually proved that he wasn’t.

But after he showered away the soot and smoke sticking to his skin and spread out over the couch with a heavy exhale, maybe it wasn’t so bad this time. Because he was tired. The couch felt like a cloud. And you were right; Gibbs needed the rest.

Needed it so much so, that he was still out like a light when you showed up several hours later. There was no point in knocking on the door; it was open and Gibbs kept it that way. The setting sun provided a bit of warm light to the old house as you made your way through. Gibbs was probably in the basement, and you were hoping he got at least a couple hours of sleep before getting up and moving around.

And you were never so glad to be wrong.

His low snores could be heard even as soon as you came through the door. And they only got louder when you approached the living room, take-out box in hand. The sight of your boss fast asleep on the couch, his head propped up against the armrest, was vastly preferred over watching him limp all around his basement and pretending everything was okay.

You kept your footsteps silent, barely breathing as you came closer and set the take-out on the coffee table. A burger and fries; you weren’t going to push your luck and try to get him to eat something healthy.

For a moment, you watch him. Just to make sure he’s really sleeping and not pretending to appease you. But there was a certain look of peacefulness on Gibbs’ face that you couldn’t ever remember seeing when he was awake. Calm and at rest. You couldn’t quite stifle the smile that appeared.

Your eyes leave Gibbs and flicker over his living room before finally spotting what you’d been searching for. Still taking slow steps, you make toward the reclining chair and pull off the blanket throw over the top of it.

If Gibbs is going to sleep into the night, he might get cold, right?

Carefully, slowly, you drape the blanket over his feet. His legs. The fabric hits his hips before Gibbs inhales and shifts. And you freeze until he stops, letting out the lowest groans and falling back into deep sleep.

He must really be exhausted.

You continue the deed until Gibbs is sufficiently covered. It’s a little jarring, how different he seems right now. Tucked in and fast asleep. If you had to pick a word to describe the moment, adorable could be one of them.

But you don’t stay for too long. Gibbs is still resting and you delivered his dinner. There was still work to be done, and he did want a report whenever he woke up.

So you walk out of his house just as silently as you came in.

Gibbs can’t remember a time he was so well-rested.

Not using caffeine as his only source of energy. Not stringing himself along for three or four days with little sleep and telling himself that he’s fine. Gibbs felt great, all things considered.

Sure, his body still ached. Lingering affects of smoke inhalation had the Marine coughing since he woke up. And anger still boiled in his gut, steeling his determination to put this case to rest.

But, annoyingly, it was difficult for Gibbs to focus on the case. Not because of any injuries sustained from yesterday - his mind was just somewhere else. Keeping his attention away from where it needed to be.

Gibbs’ eyes flickered away from his computer screen (he hadn't read a single word on it for a while) and landed on your desk. Empty, because you and DiNozzo were following up on the local police and their search for the suspect.

And Gibbs had a working theory as to why his focus was so frazzled today. It wasn’t the fire that had shaken him; he’s been through worse. No, it started as soon as he woke up this morning, wrapped in a blanket that Gibbs was sure he didn’t fall asleep with. An old box of food that had gone bad hours ago, but he knew it was from you. You did promise to bring him dinner...

“Boss?”

Gibbs straightens up at McGee’s voice, eyes falling down to his desk before rising up to the junior agent. “What, McGee?” He asks, tone curt and harsh because he was caught in his own thoughts.

McGee seems a little awkward at the tone, but he continues on with his report. “Uh, Abby and I determined that the cause of the fire was electrical. Probably rigged and set off whenever you entered the building.” He explains. And after Gibbs simply nods, McGee gives a small tilt of his head. “Are you feeling okay, boss? If you need to go home, we can handle things-”

“No, I don’t need to go home.” Gibbs cuts him off with a bark-like tone, standing up from his chair to bring himself to full height. But try as he might, Gibbs didn’t feel very intimidating. Probably because it took him a lot longer to stand because of the ache in his legs. And when he straightened up, his lungs got that itchy, smoky sensation. Gibbs bit his tongue to keep from coughing.

McGee’s eyes lower, anyway. But any awkward silence or unwanted apology is chased away by DiNozzo’s voice; loud and booming as he entered the bullpen.

“Boss! It’s good to see you walking around!”

Gibbs looks to his senior agent, regards him silently, doesn’t spend too much time watching him before he’s looking at you. Gibbs blames his lame lungs for how tight his chest feels at that moment. The effort it takes for him in inhale as you approach, frowning a little but not really mad. Gibbs knew that expression well. “Yeah, even though I still think you should be resting at home.”

Out of the corner of his eye, McGee is signaling to you to shut up and not go down that road. But Gibbs doesn’t scowl or grumble.

Instead, his eyes watch yours for a moment. Maybe two before they drop to what you’re holding. You look down, huff, and hand over one of the coffee to-go cups for him. And when Gibbs takes it, you give him smile. “No need to say thanks. You can do that by eating this.”

At that, you lift up a bag that he hadn’t noticed before. Gibbs frowns, his head tilting as he reads the logo printed in the front, ‘Joe’s Bagels.’ That makes him huff, head shaking. “Not hungry.” He states.

“You need to eat, Gibbs. You’re still healing.” You shake the bag, holding it closer. And then you put on those puppy-dog eyes again. The same ones from last night, when you convinced him to take the day off and rest. Last night, his exhaustion could be blamed for how easily Gibbs conceded. This morning, he had not real excuse. No reason to agree.

But he takes the bagels anyway. Sets them on his desk and he sits, leaving you to grin while McGee and Tony exchanged looks.

Why should they be surprised? Even Gibbs gets hungry sometimes.

The light of his lamp didn’t seem to help Gibbs at all in reading reports. He’d get only about two lines in before his vision goes blurry. Having to rub his eyes to refocus them.

It must be pretty late. The officeplace has been quiet for a little while now. DiNozzo skirting off for some new date. McGee and Abby having some kind of plans that Gibbs didn’t quite understand. Something about computers, no doubt. So it must be pretty late, that’s why he can barely keep his eyes open...

10:30.

Gibbs frowns at the time. No way in hell is it that early. But after checking the time on his computer, it’s apparent that Gibbs is thoroughly tired and drained at 10:30 PM. He must be getting old.

Suddenly, he hears your voice; a sharp contrast from the silence of the room. When Gibbs straightens up to watch you come from the elevator, chatting on the phone, the pull in his muscles reminds him that maybe yesterday’s incident is what has him so drained.

But Gibbs looks down when you turn into the bullpen, not wanting it to seem like he was watching you. But he listens carefully; you have plans. Tonight. With who? Hopefully not a guy-

So what if it is? It’s no business of his.

Gibbs is scowling at his paperwork when you say his name. Several times, in fact. It isn’t until you lean over his monitor do you finally catch his attention. The surprised look on your boss’ face elicits a big smile. “You’re still here? You should head home, Gibbs.”

He blinks, brow quirking. “You’re still here.” He points out, and can’t help himself but to lean closer. Like you were dragging him in and Gibbs couldn’t fight the tide.

“Yeah, because I had some things to wrap up. And I wasn’t nearly burnt to a crisp yesterday.”

A good point. One that Gibbs marginally agreed with, even though he looked away with a shake of his head. “I’m fine.” He says. He won’t let you get to him, this time. Twice was one thing. Three times was a pattern.

A pattern he didn’t want to acknowledge.

You don’t reply, at first, but Gibbs can see you slinking around his desk. Can feel your eyes on him - firm, like a predator watching their prey. Gibbs hated feeling like prey. “You’re exhausted, I can tell. You get even quieter and grumpier than usual.”

Can you really read him so easily?

“Please, Gibbs, go home.”

His eyes fall shut, exhaling harshly that turned into a light cough. Home did sound good. His body screamed for the comfort of his couch. And your voice, light and pleading, admittedly tipped the scales of his decision.

Gibbs stands up, flicking his lamp off and pressing the button of his monitor. His workspace goes dark, matching those of his team.

When he turns to you, expecting a victorious grin, you’re just smiling softly. Gibbs didn’t expect it. And he didn’t expect you to keep talking. “I’m just worried about you, okay? I was scared yesterday, when we heard you were in the building.” Your eyes dart away, weight shifting. “I mean, we were all scared.”

Any annoyance Gibbs might’ve felt at being coerced into going home melted away. He turns toward you, lightly shrugging a single shoulder. “I’m okay.” He replies, his voice low like someone might hear. He even manages a light smirk to strengthen his words.

It works to bring a small smirk to your face, as well. Your eyes return to his, growing soft with a new smile that Gibbs was pleased to see. “Good. Because I like seeing you smile. It’d be a pity if we never saw it again.” He didn’t know until now just how worried you were about him. It makes all the bossing around make sense, in hindsight. And it makes Gibbs feel a bit like an ass for fighting you the whole way.

But then something unexpected happens. Gibbs must be more spacey than he’s ever been in his life, because he doesn’t even register you pulling him in for a hug until your arms are around his shoulders, squeezing tight. He feels your cheek press against his shoulder. Feels you inhale against his chest; deep, like you were assuring yourself that he really was okay.

Gibbs is still for a moment. Maybe two before his arms close around your torso. He squeezes just a little, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. True, he wasn’t expecting the hug, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t committing every single second of it to memory.

You pull away sooner than he wants. Smiling that same smile and giving his arm a pat, like that was a hug between two good friends. Gibbs supposes that’s what it was. To you, anyway.

“I better see you well-rested tomorrow, boss.”

You walk away from his desk, toward the elevator and probably a date with a man that wasn’t him.

And Gibbs wishes he could please you by getting a full night’s sleep and being well-rested tomorrow. But as he grabs his coat and weapon, Gibbs figures he’ll spend half the night in his basement, hoping the bourbon will erase feelings he didn’t know he had.

#ncis x reader #ncis reader insert #ncis imagine #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs imagine #gibbs x reader

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