#imagine if you aren't replying because you are working in a lab with no phone

[zeedist]

MAD AT HIM .ᐟ — ALHAITHAM

when you're angry at him : summary: you're mad at him. he wants to die. that's it. sfw !! fem!reader x alhaitham, academic setting, several mentions of "i want to die" but playfully [i am not sure if that should be warned, but now you know] word count: 1.2k proofread: yup.

“Hey, Alhaitham,” the blond calls for him. Kaveh squints his carmine eyes, looking at his usually collected friend spilled on the table, head buried in his arms. He forms a question —though it lingers more in him being weirded out rather than worried, “Are you sick?”

He hums. He feels sick. 

“Yeah,” the gray-haired agrees. With a tilt of his head, Cyno calmly remarks, “You look like shit.” 

He grumbles. He feels like shit.

Elongated black ears perk up and twitch the slightest, interest peaking at his clearly disheveled state as Tighnari agrees, “Yeah, you look like you are about to die.” 

He doesn’t make a sound. He feels like he is about to die.

Eyeing him sideways while placing down a card, the dark-haired ventures to ask, “Did you mess with that weird rat you showed me last time?”

He lets out an offended pff. Like hell he was stupid enough to touch that fucked up rat —one that you, in the kindness of your heart, took in to heal and take care of; and one he couldn’t wait to chug back into the wild. Seriously, that thing was weird. 

“Of course not,” Tighnari reads through his muffled sound, guessing again, “You caught a cold?”

“That would be a first,” Cyno remarks as he makes his move, chuckling with satisfaction when the blond complains before taking four more cards from the deck. 

“Gah, I was so close to winning,” Kaveh grumbles as he organizes his cards, settling them down. Without resistance, he takes the deck from the miserable man’s hand and plays his turn for him. After double blocking the other two, he smiles smugly and returns to his own deck. Only then does he add to their conversation, joking lightly, “It isn’t like the world is ending, or like your girl is breaking up with you, so what makes you like this?” 

Alhaitham makes a sound between laughter and crying. The first thing is happening currently. And if the second ever became a reality, he would have been on raw knees begging for a second chance or he would be digging a hole to bury himself alive in. Maybe both, in that order. 

The other three continue their game —taking turns to play his part—, trying to nudge a response out of him with questions and little jokes. After several attempts and only receiving incoherent and downcast grumbles as a reply, they gave up on trying to make him speak it out. Minutes smoothly pass, the round ending with Kaveh holding half of the deck. Their conversation starts drifting from their days to their current projects, still trying to rope in Alhaitham with questions he only shook his head to. In the end, it’s Tighnari that carries the dialogue, sharing about a research that he is carrying out about a newly discovered sub-species of a fungi. 

And it isn’t that he’s arrogant or an attention-seeker, Alhaitham simply can’t place the turmoil inside of him with words. How is he even supposed to explain the pit in his stomach right now? 

His entire existence [you] crumbles into dust, disintegrating like fragile debris slipping through weakened fingers [ignoring him] as if the universe itself is conspiring to forsake him. All because of one unforgivable misstep —a moment of tragic weakness when exhaustion claimed him [he dozed off in the library when he was supposed to meet up with you] and made him fail you. Now, the very foundation of his world is unraveling, rotting from the core, decaying into nothingness beneath the weight of his regret. 

He decays. He rots. He hopes he dies. 

Only when Tighnari comments to him that he should bring you along to hear to his presentation, Alhaitham lifts his head, hands dragging across his face as he mumbles out with a hoarse voice, “She is upset at me. I think I should go die now.” 

“Oh, what did you do?” Kaveh asks, sincerely worried now. Though his hands keep mixing the deck of cards, preparing to deal them for another round. 

“I didn’t sleep at all last night and passed out when I was supposed to see her,” he replies, sounding so miserable even he cringes at his own roughened voice. But he continues, knot on his throat as he grimaces, “And now she won’t even reply to my messages.” 

“Oh shit,” Cyno comments, very helpfully. 

“Have you tried looking for her?” Tighnari offers, very helpfully. His brows are furrowed, but he doesn’t exactly look panicked, “I am sure she will understand if you apologize sincerely.”

“I left her waiting for so long,” Alhaitham sighs, heavy and annoyed with himself, flopping his head back down to the table and lamenting, “And I never showed up. I want to die.”

“If you do, can I perhaps keep your body for study purposes—”

“Cyno!”

“What? I can't stop him, look at him, Nari.” 

The ever composed student with a straight posture and grades, slumped and sulking as if he prayed the ground would split and swallow him straight to hell. Time doesn’t allow him too much of his self-hating session, though, as the break reaches its end and the shattering sound of bells ringing throughout the cafeteria announces it. 

Kaveh sighs as he gathers the cards he just dealt back into their deck —an elegant way to refer to the barely-holding together package it originally came with. It now held on masking tape and their suffering. He stuffs the item inside his briefcase, locking it with a click before he stands up. With a low sigh, he offers his miserable friend a pat in the shoulder, “It’ll be okay, you guys will talk it out. Gotta go now, my professor will skin me alive if I arrive late again. See ya!”

Alhaitham manages to murmur a goodbye right as the blond waves and runs away. Always rushing, always late. Tighnari found this amusing again, chuckling at that as he collects their trash from the table to throw away on his way out. With a pat on the shoulder and a gentle smile, he tries to reassure him with, “It’s not unfixable. Think it out and apologize.” 

He thanks him for his sincere words, though his chest stirs with an unhappy feeling. It isn’t fear, he isn’t afraid. Your relationship had been going strong since the first moment, steadily growing closer with everyday you spent together. He trusts you, trusts the bond you share. He can say he loves you now. Which is precisely why it breaks his heard so much to fail you like this. 

Cyno watches him returning to his sulking form, sighing heavily while brushing his hand through faded locks. He’s torn, not knowing exactly how to comfort or advise him, so he does what he can. With a nudge to his arm, he asks, “Want me to walk you to your next lesson?”

Alhaitham remains silent for a second, before grumbling, “The love of my life is mad at me. I’ll die now, thank you.” 

[astro-rain]

delicate; b.barnes

chapter four - mri’s & other modern commodities

delicate masterlist

word count: 1.8k

synopsis: bucky faces his first day of treatment, and discovers some new things along the way: some scary, some awesome, some maybe slightly embarassing.

pairings: bucky barnes x fem!reader

[A/N]: not my gif

When he woke up, he scanned his room, making sure everything was the same as how he left it the night before. Making sure no one came in while he was asleep and poisoned his brain. Making sure he was waking up in his living quarters in Wakanda and not a damp cell in some secret Hydra base. It was just something he did now.

Some may call it paranoia, others may call it adaptation. Either way, once he stepped outside and made sure he was alone, he allowed himself to take a breath.

Today was the day, the first day of official treatment. He had no idea what to expect; he was just hoping to high heavens that it would end up working. Freedom. That's all he wanted. Liberation from the chains Hydra had had around him since he fell from the train all those years ago.

He was apprehensive for sure, but he tried his best to keep himself optimistic. Bucky was sure that Shuri was smarter than any Hydra scientist he once came in contact with. So, if they can tear apart his mind, perhaps she can put it back together. Right?

Her in addition to (Y/N). That psychologist woman. He had spoken to her the day before at the lake. She was funny, and she seemed decently easy to talk to. That's a good sign, he guessed. She told him that she hadn't minded relocating to assist in his treatment, but he honestly couldn't make out her true feelings. She was rather hard to read. Perhaps it was a psychologist thing; he tried not to look too far into it.

He waited outside his door until two Wakandans came to escort him to Shuri. Bucky noticed they were armed. Guards. He wasn't surprised nor did he blame them. However, that didn't make it any easier to trust. He hadn't had that luxuy in a very long time. The former assassin fought against the voice in the back of his head telling him to analyze their every move in order to ensure that he wasn't in any danger. That any minute they weren't going to strap him down and rip his brain apart the way it had been so many times before. So many times. He gave the slightest wince at the thought. His brain suddenly felt prickly, painful memories creeping up on him.

Not now, don't think about it.

Sometimes, if he fixated on the thoughts for too long, he would drive himself to this panicked state of fear and constriction. He wasn't sure exactly what this thing was. All he knew was that these things - these episodes - were extremely unpleasant, and utterly unnecessary at the moment.

He shook his head (somehow hoping that this would rid him of the prickly memories like a dog shaking off water), strands of long brown hair swaying quickly in front of his eyes, and fixed his gaze to the floor.

Floor. Floor. Floor. Floor. Just the floor. The floor. The floor. The floor-

"Sergeant Barnes!" Shuri welcomed him happily.

Oh. He was in the lab now. He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Let's do this.

"Good morning," he smiled, "and just Bucky's okay."

"Of course, of course. This is my lab! Best place in Wakanda in my humble opinion. Today's only the first day of treatment, so nothing too intensive. But, we will be working all the same!"

He glanced around the lab. The guards were at the doorway and they didn't look like they were leaving anytime soon. Again, he wasn't surprised. Moreover, sitting at a table a few feet from Shuri, was a familiar face. This familiar face soon met his gaze.

"Hi, Bucky" (Y/N) greeted, offering a polite smile. "See! I remembered this time."

Bucky grinned. "Are you still (Y/N), or is it Dr. (Y/L/N) since we're in the lab now?"

"I'm always (Y/N)."

"I don't know, if I went to school for as long as you did, I'd make everyone call me Doctor," Shuri added.

(Y/N) laughed. "Well, if you want to call me Doctor you're more than welcome, Shuri."

"That's the spirit, Doc," she declared before turning to Bucky. "Now, follow me and we'll get a quick MRI done."

"A what?" He quickly caught up to Shuri who already started walking away.

"An MRI. It stands for magnetic resonance imaging. Basically, scanners use strong magnetic fields, magnetic field gradients, and radio waves to generate images of the organs in the body."*

Yes, very basic.

(Y/N) leaned over to Bucky, explaining softly, "It's used to form pictures of the anatomy and the physiological processes of the body."**

"Oh."

"You just lay down and it scans you. Y'don't even feel anything."

"Thats... not too bad, I guess."

"It's a bit of a tight fit though, so I hope you're aren't claustrophobic."

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, after cryo, I doubt tight spaces will be too much of a bother for me."

"Right," said (Y/N), "but it's still decently in your personal space. Just so you know - so there's no surprises."

He nodded. They didn't say anything until Shuri stopped short in front of them. She stood a couple feet from a shiny metal table which was lined up in front of an equally shiny and metallic semi-cricle arch. It was long enough to fit - well, would you look at that - a body.

"Oh. I guess there is a surprise," (Y/N) blurted, turning to Shuri, confused. "That isn't like any MRI machine I've ever seen."

"That's because you're in Wakanda," Shuri flashed a proud smile. "Tech's a bit... advanced here."

(Y/N) turned to Bucky. He thought he saw something resembling self consciousness flow across her features, but he wasn't sure.

"Sorry, I guess I was wrong. But, honestly this is way better than a typical MRI set up. It's much more open... and wide. Regularly, it would be like a super narrow tube with hardly any space inside. This way, you'll even be able to see us and the rest of the room."

That's good. More space. More freedom. And he'll be able to see her- them, see them.

Shuri clapped. "Alright! Shall we get started then?"

He had no idea how any of this worked; he was way out of his element here. He just barely learned what a damn MRI was, and had to hide his shock when he found out. Medicine has changed dramatically since 1945. Although it is helpful, he is completely clueless. Great.

"Do I jus-just lay on the table?" He asked, unsure.

"Yep! Just lie there and be absolutely still, and I'll do the rest," Shuri replied, reassuringly as she walked around to a control panel next to the machine, preparing to start.

Bucky took his place on the thin metal table, and he thought he was seeing things. Was it was levitating? Honestly, from what he's seen so far he wouldn't even be surprised. He stared up at the ceiling, getting lost in thought. A string of various questions and uncertainties fluttered through his battered mind.

Would the metal arm interfere with the magnet- oh. Right. No arm. Just a scan, no need to worry. (Y/N) said it would be fine. Can I even trust her Then again, can I even trust anyone yet? She's the best I got right now. Damn it, I wish I wasn't so wary of everyone.

"Hey," a gentle voice pulled him out.

He looked over to the left of him, the side with no arm. (Y/N).

"I can practically hear your brain whirring around right now - which is justified - but do you need anything?"

'Do you need anything?' He hadn't heard that phrase in a while.

He adjusted his body on the table. "I'm alright, just... a bit out of my element here."

She nodded, knowingly. "Honestly, me too. This lab looks like somethin' out of a sci-fi movie for me, so I can't imagine what it must feel like to you."

She was looking down at him. He felt vulnerable, exposed. It seemed like she noticed.

"Here, I have an idea."

With that, she turned and grabbed something from a nearby table. Rotating around to face him again, she displayed what she had taken: a pair of headphones... but without a wire? What the hell?

"Are they broken?" he asked, feeling perpetually confused.

"No, they're wirelessly connected to my phone. It's called bluetooth."

The look on his face was almost laughable.

"Bluetooth? What kind of name is Bluetooth?"

"The kind of name that I didn't invent nor should I be blamed for," she chuckled. "Do you want to listen to music while you're in there? It might help to keep you down on Earth with us."

Music. The thought was almost surreal. He hadn't been privileged with such a pleasure in longer than he'd care to admit. It actually seemed... nice.

"Y-yeah," he said, pondering. "That'd actually be nice."

"Awesome."

She leaned over him to put the headphones on his ears, causing him a very conflicting series of emotions.

First of all, close. She was very close to his face. His face, his eyes, his nose, his lips. It almost seemed a tad bit intimate. And then he realized he hadn't been this close to a woman in forever. A real woman, not some fellow assassin he had to take out. He hoped the shy embarrassment he felt didn't show on his cheeks.

Second of all, she was wrapping something around his head, his brain. He tried not to, but he couldn't stop the muscle memory of what he'd been conditioned to feel. Hydra's machine would wrap around his head and rip his psyche apart. His mind expected pain, the worst pain, the dehumanizing, out of body, mind splitting pain. He hoped the way he flinched ever so slightly didn't offend (Y/N).

She didn't seem offended, and her voice was soft. "You're good. Just music and a scan. Then you're done."

He looked up at her face, reassuring and calm. He took a deep breath.

"Good?" she asked.

He nodded. "Think so."

"If it's too much at any point just let us know, and we'll pull you right out. It's your comfort level, your choice."

His choice. Choice. Control. The prospect gave him comfort.

She gave him one last look before stepping away and signaling Shuri to start the machine. The seemingly levitating table began a smooth descent into the machine when the music started playing. It almost startled him, but he then he was pleasantly surprised by what he heard.

There were loud drums, guitar riffs with attitude, and voices that had so much emotion they were almost screaming. It was like no music he had ever heard before, and he loved it. In fact, he was so into it that he didn't even notice when the MRI had finished. That is, until he felt a feather light hand on his shoulder. His eyes opened, and (Y/N) had the biggest grin on her face. While taking the headphones off of him, she looked very pleased with herself.

She looked at Shuri but declared to no one in particular, "Bucky likes Rock and Roll!"

- - -

* = from wikipedia

** = from wikipedia