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kookingtae · 4 years

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falling into you (pt. 8) PREVIEW

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7

→scenario: Jungkook’s innocence is like a breath of fresh air in your wild life, and though you know you’re toxic for him, you just can’t seem to stay away.

→genre: college au, slow burn, mutual pining, shy/nerd jk + bad girl oc (mature themes)

→a/n: so i’m not finished with pt 8 yet, since it’s such a climactic chapter it’s taking a bit longer than i anticipated unfortunately BUT i dont want u guys to think ive forgotten about it!!! i know u all are waiting so patiently, and i cannot thank you enough from the bottom of my heart <3 i hope this preview keeps you excited for what’s to come!

Jungkook could never face Y/N again.

God, how could he, knowing that he’d not only finished in five minutes like a pubescent teenager, but also in his pants while she was on top of him?

Embarrassment didn’t even begin to describe the mortification he felt. He’d never wanted the earth to swallow him whole as much as he did in that moment. Sure, he was aware of his slight social anxiety, the way he was constantly looking to bolt from uncomfortable situations—but this was different entirely. This was new territory for him; he’d never done anything remotely sexual with someone else, period, much less with the girl who hung the stars, moon, and sun in his eyes. What was he supposed to do? There was nowhere to escape to in his own bedroom, no running away from his problems that made him uncomfortable. No, he had to stand there with his head down and his crotch dripping wet while he practically begged her to leave. He had never been so ashamed of himself. He had never felt so pathetic.

But then Y/N surprised him like she never failed to do: she’d given him reassurance, another kiss even, while telling him that she actually enjoyed the experience—went so far as to say it was the best in her life. Now he knew she was lying to spare his feelings. Of all the men Y/N had been with, there was no way a virgin cumming untouched in his pants was the best of them. She was cruel to make him believe otherwise, to give him false hope.

He wouldn’t allow himself to think any differently. He couldn’t allow himself to get hurt.

Which was why he made it his mission to avoid her at all costs—something he’d gotten very good at over the past few months, and the past few weeks, specifically.

But in the same way he’d learned from the patterns of her daily routine and used them as a means to remain hidden, she’d also learned his and utilized them to her advantage as well. It was the only explanation as to how he was turning a corner inside the art building (about to take the rear exit, since she usually waited for him out front) and suddenly she was standing right in front of him.

He instantly skidded to a halt, heart rate shooting to astronomical levels and eyes widening on their own accord. “Y-Y/N,” he stuttered out involuntarily, the sight of her causing every single detail of their time spent together to come rushing back to him like a tidal wave ready to wipe him out.

As if he needed another excuse to think about the moment they shared that had changed him forever, about the way her moans sounded in his ear and her body felt on his lap and the way she touched his cheek, his neck, the way her lips felt on his skin, god help him—

Already he could feel the beginnings of a blush start to rise to his suddenly hot cheeks, and he cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other to keep from springing yet another boner in front of her.

He slid his books in front of his waist, just in case.

While she usually approached him with the natural ease of self-confidence and charm, today she seemed worried, unsure. She chewed at her lower lip—something he didn’t think she really ever did, as he would certainly remember the way it stirred within him—and looked up at him beneath delicate lashes that framed her eyes.

He didn’t have it in him to keep from outright staring at her beauty.

“I… I missed you,” she finally murmured, and he felt the breath physically whoosh from his lungs to join his butterfly-filled stomach all the way at the floor.

It had been a few days since he’d last seen her, since she’d been in his room that night where they opened up about their past and confessed how they truly felt about one another and shared the most life-altering moment he’d ever experienced. He missed her too, god he missed her. He missed everything about her the moment she left his side—would picture her face in his mind as soon as she left his field of vision. But for some reason unknown to him, she was too kind to him, spared his feelings despite knowing what little experience he had. There was no way he’d be able to satisfy a girl—mentally, physically, emotionally—who could have anyone she wanted. Perhaps she pitied him. Either way, if she wouldn’t put a stop to it, then he would.

Or so he’d try, but alas, nothing ever went according to his plans where Y/N was concerned. And here she was, three simple words mumbled into existence and he couldn’t even remember his own name, much less why he’d been trying to fight this.

She seemed to expect he would say nothing—either that or she’d grown used to his silence—because before he had enough sense in him to even think about responding, she was speaking again. “How have you been?”

The question was asked with deliberate, genuine curiosity and concern; she really wanted to know if he was okay, how he was handling things after what had transpired between them. And no matter how hard Jungkook tried to fight this, fight her, fight himself, he was only human.

And so he stopped fighting.

“I– I missed you too,” he breathed out, and it was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and relocated to his gut. He tensed at his confession, mentally berated himself for his words even though she’d been the one to say them first. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, what with the way his throat locked up.

Though the second he witnessed the smile that sprang to her tantalizing lips, he felt as light as a feather floating in the breeze.

“You did?” Her eyes lit up, sparkled under the fluorescent hallway lights that still managed to capture all of her beauty despite the unflattering lighting. He didn’t think it was possible for any scenery, not even that of a dull and stuffy university building, to make her appear any less breathtaking than she always was.

“I was so worried after I left last week,” she continued without prompt. The mention of his premature finish had him stiffening in dread, though she didn’t let enough silence fester between her words for the anxiety to claw its way up his throat. “I didn’t want you to beat yourself up. I’ve noticed you tend to be too hard on yourself sometimes.” She glanced up at him with the hint of a sheepish grin dancing on her lips.

Her expression said it all: that’s an understatement.

And this shocked him to his core, because she was absolutely right.

Just how well had she gotten to know him in their time spent together over the last few months? And how? And why?

The last question would always boggle him until the end of time; he would never understand why she was interested in him. Why was he the one she had feelings for, when she claimed she never had feelings for anybody? Though he supposed he could ask himself the same thing: why did he feel things for Y/N that he had never felt for anyone else in his life? And the answer was quite simple, really: because it was her.

He didn’t know what about himself was so special to make him stand out in her mind, and as a result he still couldn’t help but be skeptical, even after her confession. But it wasn’t like he had any choice in the matter on what to do with that skepticism—not when his heart kept leading him back to her.

At some point after her accurate description of the inner turmoil that’s been plaguing his mind, his mouth had fallen open slightly. He couldn’t hide the surprise from his face even if he tried; he was speechless.

Y/N gazed up at him, not seeming in any hurry to rush the conversation along, and for that he was grateful. He’d never met somebody so patient and understanding before—just another reason to make Jungkook’s heart flutter with endearment. And it was no secret to himself anymore that he yearned to be in Y/N’s presence for as long as possible whether he was aware of it or not.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know,” she continued as if she could read his mind, and that was when he realized the way his eyes avoided hers and the fact that his skin was the color of tomatoes must’ve been dead giveaways. “I meant it when I said that was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.”

Jungkook balked, practically choking on his spit at her forward, shameless words. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the way she spoke her mind so openly without any fear holding her back. She’d gone through so much in her childhood, in her life—Jungkook not even knowing the half of it, he’s sure—and yet she was still so strong and brave and everything he wasn’t. He couldn’t help but admire the person she was today, despite all the prejudice and judgment he’d held for her when they first met.

He realized now that he was too quick to judge her, to write her off based on rumors and first impressions. He realized now that he was too quick to do that to a lot of people. Just how long had he closed himself off from others based on his skewed, morally righteous perspective? His whole life, if he had to say.

The epiphany that she was physically prying open his third eye with a crowbar, that he was now self aware and changing for the better for her—for himself—hit him all at once.

It was the most frightening sensation of his life, the introvert in him wanting to crawl back into his shell where it was safe and comfortable and dull. But deep down he knew it was also for the best.

“W-why?” He heard himself asking before he knew what he was doing. “Why do you keep saying that?”

He had to know why she insisted on standing by her statement that his mishap was not only hot, but the hottest ever. Why did she insist on lying to him, on giving him false hope? She spoke her mind in every other situation, or at least that’s what he assumed; why did she insist on sparing his feelings in this incident? Was he really that pathetic? Did she pity him that much?

She simply blinked at him once, twice, before: “Because I really like you, Jungkook.”

As if in slow motion, you could visibly see his eyes expand to the size of saucers at your words.

You would’ve found the sight comical had the situation been any different. But the way he continued to disbelieve that you could have feelings for him, that you could be attracted to everything about him despite who he was, despite his inexperience—it made your heart break in your chest. You now knew from where this inferiority complex stemmed—he’d told you himself about his family situation—and if anything, it made you want to rebuild his confidence that much more. He needed to see himself the way you saw him.

But you also didn’t want to overwhelm him, either. And you were more than willing to walk that fine line with Jungkook no matter how long it took.

“So are we on for a study sesh tonight?” You continued nonchalantly, wanting to return things to normalcy for him as much as possible before he ran away mid-conversation as he’d done so many times before. You wanted to ease his self-doubt so he’d stop avoiding you—like he’d been doing the past few days—as much as possible.

Jungkook blinked as if trying to adjust from the whiplash of your subject-change. “U–uh… if you want?”

“Of course I want to,” you replied without missing a beat, not caring how desperate you seemed so long as he didn’t question where you stood. You took a step forward, unable to help the intangible, magnetic draw you felt to him as you gazed up at him beneath your lashes. “That is… if you want to.”

You watched in agony as a gulp slowly raked its way down his throat.

“I–” his voice was hoarse before he cleared his throat. “I uh, can’t tonight. I have to study for math.”

You weren’t even sure how one studied for math, but you weren’t about to question the expert. “That’s fine! We could… do it tomorrow?”

Jungkook chewed at his bottom lip, an action he always did when he was internally struggling with something before he finally nodded his head yes in a slow, hesitant manner. “N–not in my room though,” he added as an afterthought, and when your gaze snapped to his he had a pleading expression in his eyes.

A mix of emotions rolled through you. On one hand, you were horrified at the possibility that he thought the only reason you wanted to study again was so that you could get in his pants. Which—okay, you’re not going to lie, you would love to have a repeat of last week—but that definitely wasn’t why you wanted to see him. He meant more to you than just a means to get off, which was what you’d thought of flings in the past. You didn’t want him to be just a fling, though.

You didn’t want to think of the meaning behind that fact right now, either.

But on another hand, you understood where Jungkook was coming from. Maybe it was because you’d studied him enough over the past few months to learn some of his behavior (for once you finally saw the appeal of studying), so you knew that level of intimacy was probably extremely overwhelming for Jungkook and he needed a moment to step back. Hell, it was even overwhelming for you, and that was saying something. Never had your senses, your heart, your body, your soul been attacked like that with such an abundance of emotional pleasure, and you hoped with all your might that Jungkook was feeling the same—that that was the reason he needed a breather from being alone with you, and not the fact that he just didn’t want to be intimate with you.

Unless…

Oh god, had you misread the situation entirely? Had Jungkook hated everything about that night?

Suddenly you were feeling sick to your stomach. The thought of you misunderstanding his confession—or worse, him changing his mind completely—made you want to escape to a dark and desolate stairwell and cry in the hidden nooks of the windowsill again; the irony that not only would you be pulling a Jungkook by escaping mid-conversation, but that the stairwell was also the place the two of you had your first real conversation, wasn’t lost on you.

“M–my roommate is staying in, studying for finals.” The sound of Jungkook’s voice was like a breath of fresh air whooshing into your lungs after almost drowning underwater. You blinked out of your inner turmoil, focusing on him. “So he’ll be there, i–in my room, this whole week.”

And suddenly your heart was warming with relief, hope, appreciation, like flowers blooming in the spring after a torrential downpour. Just when you thought you had him figured out, this enigma of a boy continued to surprise you. It was usually easy for you to hide your emotions—you’d been doing so for years, always wore a mask around others so that they couldn’t see the real you—and yet somehow, Jungkook must’ve sensed them anyway. He sensed the doubt, the pain, the fear that you vowed never to cage you crawling up your throat and threatening to consume you whole, and he eased it. He didn’t want you to misunderstand him. He wanted to reassure you.

If anything, that was just a testament to how Jungkook had broken down your walls—how much you had let him in, how well he was able to read the emotions you wanted to keep hidden. Your mask had begun to break, the real you showing through the cracks, and Jungkook was still standing here. He hadn’t run away.

You fought the urge to grab him and slam your lips onto his.

“Not in your room, then,” is all you managed to breathe out beneath a fluttering smile.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook scenario #bts x reader #bts scenario #i hope this is good enough for the time being!!! im sorry its taking me so long to get pt 8 posted #u guys are the best i love u <3333

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chiliiscereal · 3 years

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I hate you

Daryl’s adopted daughter

Chapter 1

Summary: Diana is a girl on the run in the apocalypse. Her past chases her no matter where she goes. One day, by chance, she meets Daryl Dixon. Thinking she’s a walker, he shoots her and brings her back to their camp. Shane strikes a deal with her: she has to stay for two weeks before she can decide if she wants to stay. But Diana is determined to keep her past in the past, and never make the same mistake again

Season 1 - I’m not sure yet

—————

Diana sat in a circle with her family. Blood dripped down her neck from her lips.

Everything was red.

Red

How could everything have gone so wrong so quickly?

Her eyes never left the blond man she once knew. She watched him as her fury and fear grew louder and louder, echoing off her skull.

That was, until Negan stepped out of the van. He walked about the circle, until his eyes landed on her.

"Fancy seein' you again, Darlin'."

————————

Rick stumbled into the street, a hospital gown draping his skin. He knew there was something wrong. There was something off. Maybe it was intuition...

Or maybe it was the woman, chopped in half, chomping her teeth to get at his ankles.

He rubbed his eyes, the sun glaring right into his vision. It had been a week and a half since the start, and a day since his IV ran dry. It had been even longer since he last saw the sun.

Where was everyone?

Why hadn't he waken up to nurses and doctors?

Or his family's familiar faces?

He spotted bodies. Bodies walking. Maybe three.

He couldn't understand... he couldn't understand any of it...

The light off a gun reflected into his eyes. He blocked it and moved to see where it was coming from.

The revolver was placed in the holster on the side of a walker. The man... or whatever he was now... shuffled toward Rick.

He was deathly pale.

"Sir," Rick's voice cracked, "sir, are you okay?" He held his hand out, trying to make it a comforting gesture to someone possibly in need.

Edging closer, the man stared at him with hungry dead eyes. His clothes were torn and draped off his skinny frame, his eyes laid sunken in his face.

"Sir?" He asked again, stumbling back.

The man growled and advanced further.

"Are you-?"

With a blur, the man was down.

Nearly tripping over his own feet, Rick let out a horrified gasp.

On the ground was a little girl, around Carl's age, placing her knife in the mans forehead. Her light blond hair, tucked under her baseball cap, clung to her dirty face. The crunch echoed in Ricks head, reverberating off his skull.

That was the first walker he had ever seen killed.

She quickly wiped her knife on the walkers shirt and snatched his revolver. She opened the back to check how much ammo was left. Satisfied, she clicked it shut and began patting the double dead man down.

"W-why did you do that?" Rick found his voice again.

She leaped back, her bright blue eyes finding his.

Quickly, she pulled herself up and began to dash away. If Rick hadn't lunged out and caught the back of her shirt she would have disappeared as soon as she apparated into his line of sight.

"No. You can't leave yet." He spun her around to face him. It was evident how terrified she was. Especially with her eyes as wide as dinner plates and hands clawing at his arm. "Why did you kill that man?"

She glared at him and wriggled harder. "Man?" She gasped, "that... that wasn't a man!" Her hands fought to unclamp Ricks grip. "That's a Walker! He would have eaten you if I hadn't stopped him!" She grunted with effort. "Didn't even see you. You already look dead."

"What do you mean by dead?" Rick questioned, holding tighter.

"Gone. Deceased. vamosed. Perished." With each word she struggled. "Now let me go!"

Rick was about to question again, when he felt the stitches on his side rip. With a grunt, he let her go and fell to the ground. His hand cupped his side.

"Please.." he stopped to breathe heavily as the girl watched him warily. "I don't know what's happening. I woke up in the- in the hospital." He glanced down at his side to eye the bleeding. "The sun will be setting soon... and I need help."

The girl glanced at the lowering sun. Tapping her foot, she glowered at the ground. "How can I trust you." It wasn't a question. It was as if she was challenging him to be wrong.

Rick attempted to stand, only to find himself back in the ground. "I was a cop. My job was to protect the people. ALL people. And I like to think I did a good job of that."

She stuck the revolver in her holster (which was clearly stolen based on how big it was). "Prove it."

"I don't have my badge or my hat. That's at my house. But I'm officer Rick Grimes. I've been on the force for seven years. My partner was Shane Walsh. I was in my car when we got a call about a run away car. I was shot in action and hospitalized." His eyes seemed to beg her to help him.

Diana tried to fight the raging war in her head.

She knew better.

She knew to trust no one.

Her father and mother both betrayed her trust.

Why trust again?

But... she could tell when people were lying. All people have tells. Her fathers tell was him avoiding eye contact. He always looked at the ground. For her mother, she always played with her wedding ring.

But this Cop... sheriff... man... was not lying.

He looked her dead in the eye.

"Fine. Come with me." She hadn't known that she was gripping her new revolver until she released it. "I have a place in the sewers. I know... in most movies that's where walkers would be. But how would someone get down there in the first place? You'd have to move the lid." She walked over to Rick and slung his arm over her shoulder to help him stand in any way. "And most walkers," she grunted "are pretty stupid."

"Thank you...for helping me." Rick stated gratefully.

"I have some house rules, you know."

"Name them." He said confidently as they shuffled down the street.

"One: you're gone when you can walk."

"You don't want someone to watch your back?" Rick was surprised. Usually, kids jumped at the chance for safety. The ones he has worked with in cases of violence had immediately decided he was trustworthy.

"the worlds changed. You can't trust people." He noted the grim expression on her face. He wanted to ask why, but he figured it was better to stay silent.

"I'd argue about that, but I'll hear out your other rules." He wrapped his arm around his side again, fingering the broken stitches.

"Two: you do as I say or you die."

"Yes ma'am."

Rick couldn't help but like her spunk. She was serious, but it wasn't much of a threat coming from an eleven year old girl.

"3: ..." she started only to trail off.

"...3?"

She cleared her throat and resituated Ricks arm. "You repay my kindness if we ever cross paths again. I don't care how."

"Was already planning on it." He grinned. He could feel the conversation beginning to die, so he started it back up again. "What's your name, kid?"

She hesitated, eyes staying on the road. "Diana." She spoke softly. "My mother named me after the Roman goddess of the night."

Rick smiled. "Pretty name."

Diana's thoughts drifted to her mother. Her mother with her honey brown hair and warm chocolate eyes. She stopped her thoughts there. "Well... what about you, officer friendly? You got a name?"

Rick laughed. "My names Rick Grimes. I ain't named after the moon goddess, but I think it has a nice ring to it. Don't you?"

She forced down a smile. "Pretty name."

He chuckled. "Well, Diana, I am glad I ran into you."

~~~~~

They arrived at the sewer lid.

"Here we are. I've been camped out here since early yesterday morning." She slipped under Ricks arm and got down to lift the lid. With a couple tries, and an offer from Rick for assistance, she lifted the lid.

She stood up and dusted off her hands. "I'll go down first and scope out the area. Need to make sure it's still clear. Then I'll help you down."

She began her descent.

Rick watched the top of her light haired head fade into the darkness with each step. He briefly thought she would try and make a run for it. Escape through the sewers.

He immediately dismissed it. Why would she waste daylight by helping him? The sound of her footsteps hitting the water at the bottom and echoing as she walked down the tunnels set him on edge.

Especially when they began to fade.

He sat patiently for over ten minutes, watching the sunlight tick by. He looked down into the darkness, listening for any sound. There was nothing... not even a whisper.

Maybe she did leave.

"Alright, Sheriff, get down here! It's clear!" Her voice reverberated loudly from the tunnels so suddenly, that Rick stumbled back.

"I don't have all day! Unless you wanted to be walker chow, get down here!"

Rick chuckled as he began to shuffle his way down the tunnel.

"Any day now, Deputy Fossil!" She shouted.

"Hold your horses, kid." He slowly lowered himself into the dark. He looked down to see where his feet were going to land, spotting the flashlight that Diana held. Her light hazel eyes reflected impatience.

"Nice place." He said, clearly biting back his truth.

"Don't be fake." She said as she kicked at the water. "It smells like a pig ate dirty gym socks, farted, and died."

"I was trying to spare your feelings."

"Don't bother. I'm leaving this place as soon as you're ready."

Rick finally landed on the bottom of the sewer. "You got a place you're headed to?"

Diana shook her head. "No. Just a place I never want to see again."

Rick stopped moving to look at her. "Troubled home life?"

She thought about it and shrugged. "I guess you could call it troubled home life. It was home once. But this apocalypse changes people."

"I'm sorry kid."

"Don't be. That's just life."

Rick opened his mouth to say more, but Diana beat him to it.

"Alright, lets move." She motioned for him to follow.

The place she had holed up in was dryer than most spaces. There were a couple of dirty blankets placed on the ground and a first aid kit. Some batteries were sprinkled on top.

"You can sit there. I can stitch you back up." Diana pointed at the wall. Their part of the sewer was a dead end so they wouldn't be surprised.

"Thank you."

Diana hadn't stitched wounds before, but she did well enough.

Rick tried starting a conversation again but she told him she needed silence to focus.

~~~~

"Are you sure you want to travel by yourself?"

Diana nodded as she packed her things. "Very sure. You're nice and all, but you don't want to travel with me."

The Georgia sun had risen already and they both were preparing for departure in the street

"Do you have any family to find?" Rick questioned.

"I already know where they are. And they don't want me either." The girl looked down, avoiding eye contact.

"If we ever meet again, you better give me more details." Rick narrowed his eyes and pointed at her. "I deserve to know more about the little girl who saved me."

"Once a cop always a cop I guess." Diana said slyly. She looked back at him. "What about you? Any family?"

She eyed a walker down the street but decided it was too far away to pursue.

"I got a son and a wife. My son's your age actually. 11." Rick looked through the neighborhoods. "I don't know where they are, but I'll protect them. They need me."

Diana squinted in the direction he was looking at, seeing nothing. "You'll find them, chief." She patted his shoulder, having to reach up very high.

"It was nice to meet you, Diana." Rick said, a little sad that they were parting. Possibly that he would no longer have company. Maybe that he didn't have enough time to get to know her well. "I don't know if I'll see you again, but you helped me without anything to gain."

Diana scoffed. "I'm not a good kid."

"You're right."

Diana looked up, confused.

"You're one of the best."

She wrinkled her nose at him. "Go. You have people to find."

"From the looks of thangs, so do you."

"I don't have people."

"You'll find them. Just a matter of where and when." He stuck his hand out for her to shake.

She placed a brown bag in his hand instead. "It's for the road. There's batteries, water, a flashlight, food, bandages, antibiotics, and one more thing..." she unbuckled her holster and handed it to him, along with the revolver. "You need these more than I do."

Rick tried to push it back to the little girl. "No I can't take this. You need it."

"No, you do. You're gonna help people, Rick. You're gonna help so many. You gotta find your people." She pushed it back to him. "I'm gonna be fine. I spotted a gun down the road that I'm gonna check out later."

Rick gave her a solemn look before accepting it. "If you can, head to Atlanta. The CDC is near there and there's bound to be survivors."

"I don't need survivors."she rolled her eyes.

"They may need you, kid. Ever think about that?"

She stayed silent for a moment. "Stay safe, sherif fun sponge." She shook his hand, even though he hadn't offered it yet. "I hope we meet again."

"We will." He smiled. "I don't know how or when, but we will. I have a debt to pay."

She wanted to return the smile but couldn't. "I hope you find them."

"You to."

With that, they went separate ways.

Next fifty chapters posted on noandisaidno on wattpad!

#for you #bookish #disney #digital art #small artist #tik tok #tik tok art #wattpad #fanfic #percy jackson #twd imagine #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd negan #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x daughter!reader

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heauxplesslydevoted · 3 years

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Then & Now (Ethan x MC)

Summary: A particularly difficult case forces Ethan to confront a blast from his past

A/N: This popped into my head and I had too much fun writing it. I will loosely incorporate some of the themes from book 3 and make them better, but this is mostly an AU.

A/N 2: Yes I’m writing another multipart fic while actively ignoring my others. The muses spoke and I had no choice in the matter. Enjoy!

~v~

“Would you like some more coffee, Dr. Ramsey?”

Whatever line he was reading in his textbook blurs as does his vision. Ethan looks up at the face of the newest member of the team, a young resident, Isabelle. He takes the cup, not missing the way her eyes light up as he does so. What is it with residents and their incessant need to kiss-ass and be people pleasers?

“Thank you, Dr. Proctor.”

“Of course! I figured we’d need all the caffeine we could get our hands on with this case.”

Ethan doesn’t respond with words, only offering the young woman a hum in acknowledgement. Instead his eyes land on his coworker, Harper Emery. “Harper, has your team been able to come up with anything new?”

“Nothing,” Harper replies with a resigned sigh.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“I’ve run as many tests, MRIs and CT scans as I could, and none of them came back with anything conclusive. We’re officially back to square one.”

Ethan hasn’t been this stumped in years. A week ago, a patient came to Edenbrook after waking up without being able to feel anything from the waist down. A young, relatively healthy 25 year old with no extraordinary medical history, no recent reports of any TBI, nothing. He assumed with Harper–one of the nation’s greatest neurosurgeons–on the case, that this would be a simple fix.

As painful as it is to admit, he’s wrong.

They’ve gotten nowhere with the case, they’ve made no progress, and to make matters worse, he has Leland Bloom and the board breathing down his neck because it’s been years since the team has spent more than a week on a case, so a week with no news reflects poorly on them—on him, as the team’s leader specifically.

The last member of the team, Tobias, clears his throat. “Did he ever mention getting into a fight? Maybe he took a hit to the head, and just doesn’t want to admit it?”

“Maybe, but like I said, none of the CT scans or MRIs showed me anything out of the norm,” Harper says. “I can always ask him again.”

“That’d be ideal–”

Ethan’s sentence is cut off as the door to their office is thrown open, and in walks Leland. “Hello, team!”

The most senior members of the team stay silent, but Isabelle gives a slight wave. “Hello, Mr. Bloom.”

“Dr. Proctor,” Leland greets in turn. “Nice to know at least one of you has manners.”

Ethan checks the time on his watch. “What are you doing here, Bloom?”

“Last time I checked, I owned this entire building and I didn’t need to ask your permission to be here.”

“We’re nearing midnight,” Ethan adds. “What are you still doing here, and not at home? I’m sure Mrs. Bloom would enjoy seeing you.”

Leland ignores the mention of his wife Caroline, pretending like she wasn’t mentioned at all. “I just stopped by your patient’s room to see how he was doing. And then I decided to drop by to check in with you guys. Are there any updates on the Miller case?”

“I’m not discussing patient information with you,” Ethan says.

“Well, I am your boss.”

“And until you go to medical school, graduate, become a doctor at this hospital, and join in on this case, I don’t have to tell you anything. You may own this hospital, but I do not have to discuss my patients with you.”

“Okay, so you guys have no new information,” Leland concludes.

Ethan pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance, this conversation giving him a headache even though it just started. “We were actually in the middle of a brainstorming session before we were interrupted, so if we could have some privacy again, that would be much appreciated.”

Ethan’s tone causes Leland to drop the veneer of kindness, the smile dropping from his face only for a second before he catches it. He looks away and sniffs haughtily. “Fine. I’ll check in with the patient tomorrow for a status update, since it’s clear I won’t be getting it from my employees. Thankfully, his father and I go way back.”

“I can’t stop the patient from divulging his own information.”

Leland glances around the room one more time, his gaze lingering on Ethan a bit longer than it does on the other occupants. “Goodnight, doctors.”

Once Leland leaves, Harper turns towards Ethan. “You act like it would literally kill you to be nice to him.”

“Be nice for what? Bloom thinks we owe him undying loyalty and infinite ass kissing because he bought the hospital. He’s pulled a lot of nonsense since moving into this position, but he’s not worth breaking any laws over. My patients deserve their privacy.”

“And I agree, but the extra hostility isn’t needed. The last thing we need is World War 3 with you and Bloom tearing down the hospital. Just be nice.”

“Okay, are we getting back to work or calling it a night?”

The rest of the team glances around each other. Pulling an all-nighter with Ethan while he’s in a foul mood sounds like a nightmare.

“We’re calling it a night.”

~v~

Ethan ends up falling asleep in the office, finally dozing off around 5 o'clock in the morning, surrounded by a mountain of books and the harsh light of his computer screen. The sleep is short lived though as the sound of his pager wakes him up.

He jumps up with a start, and checks the time on his watch before checking his pager. He only managed to get two hours of sleep, but he can’t dwell on that. The page is a 911 alert to his patient’s room.

“Shit!”

He takes off to the 4th floor where his patient is housed, thankful that the early morning hour means the hospital is not yet flooded with people.

Isabelle, Harper, and a nurse are already in the room when Ethan finally makes it. “What’s going on?”

“He had a seizure,” Harper explains.

“How long did it last?”

“Around 50 seconds. We administered lorazepam into his IV.”

“Could this be a new symptom?” Valencia asks. “Or something else entirely?”

Harper shrugs. “I don’t know, but I’m going to take him down to radiology for another CT scan. Hopefully this next one can actually yield some results.”

Ethan nods. “That sounds like a plan. In the meantime, Dr. Proctor, add seizures onto the list of symptoms to broaden our search criteria. Maybe that’ll help.”

“Gotcha.”

“We’ll reconvene when Tobias comes in and once we get the new CT scans back.”

There’s a knock at the door and Ethan bristles when Leland’s loud voice calls out to him. “Dr. Ramsey, can I speak to you out in the hallway?”

“With all due respect, I’d rather not.”

“It wasn’t a request, doctor. Hallway, now.”

Ethan shoots Harper a look, and she gives him a quick sympathy smile before he and Leland step out into the hallway.

They move a few feet away from the patient’s door, out of earshot before Leland lays into Ethan. “How in the hell is the patient actually managing to get worse under your care?”

The question actually takes Ethan aback. “You can’t possibly be saying his condition is my fault?”

“I’m saying he’s been here for a week now, and he’s no better off than where he was. You don’t have any information to give him or his family. Do you know how many phone calls my assistant has had to field because they want to get him transferred to a different facility?”

“We are giving him the best care possible, Leland. Just because you and his father belong to the same country club or whatever, does not mean there’ll be some instant diagnosis or treatment that he can buy...or steal. We need to do our due diligence.”

Leland is smart enough to know when a dig is being lobbed in his direction. His eyes narrow. “What are you trying to say, Ethan?”

“Exactly what I just did. Besides, why do you have such a vested interest in my team and what we do? I’m sure you have other businesses and people to micromanage these days.”

“You guys don’t make me any money yet remain my biggest cost. The least you can do is be efficient and answer my questions when I ask.”

“And like I told you last night, I know you own this place. You never let me forget it. But you buying this hospital does not mean I am here at your beck and call, now does it mean I have to be governed under anything that isn’t set forth by the American Medical Association. Now, me team is the best this hospital and this city have to offer, so back up and let us do our jobs.”

“You guys are the best?” Leland chuckles humorlessly. “Act like it. Or I’ll find someone else who can.”

The threat causes Ethan to pause. “What does that mean?”

“You heard me loud and clear, Dr. Ramsey. Loud and clear.”

~v~

“You idiot! Why on earth would you get into a fight with Bloom in the middle of a hallway?”

Ethan doesn’t try to school his bored expression as Tobias paces the entire length of the office, huffing and puffing as he does so.

“I didn’t get into a fight with him,” Ethan amends. “It was an exchange of words.”

“A loud exchange of words,” Harper adds. “In front of our patient’s room, might I add.”

“I had plans for this day to be productive, but the minute that man opens his mouth, I just–”

“We get it, you don’t like him,” Tobias interjects.

“Disliking Leland is an understatement.”

Isabelle stays silent, unable to find a good place to cut in, despite having questions. Ethan’s dislike of Leland Bloom is the hospital’s worst kept secret, but the contention has always been passive aggressive at best. And as a second year resident, she doesn’t have any background knowledge on why the relationship is the way that it is.

“I don’t like him either, but you don’t see me needling him in front of the nurse’s station!”

“Sure Leland is...obnoxious at times, but I don’t understand any of it,” Isabelle says, finally speaking up. Ethan looks at her as if he’s just now remembering that she’s been in the room the entire time. “What happened that caused this much animosity?”

Leland’s kidney disease wasn’t a major secret. Most medical personnel that worked at Edenbrook and the larger Boston area remember the huge media blitz, and all of the pomp and circumstance surrounding his hospitalization early last year. And the official story is Leland got a kidney from a family member who wished to keep their identity a secret from the public, and everyone ate it up.

Only a handful of people know the truth. That a few well placed phone calls and dollars exchanged got Leland to the top of the donor list within a day, stealing a second chance from the true person at the top of the list: a 14 year old girl.

“So long as there is breath in my body, Leland Bloom and his ilk will never get an ounce of respect from me, and I’ll just leave it at that,” Ethan says cooly. “And that’s all you need to know, Dr. Proctor.”

“Okay.”

“I’m just saying man, Bloom is petty,” Tobias adds. “Men like him, who think the rest of us should bow at their feet, don’t take kindly to getting told off, especially in public. Underneath the billions is a tiny ass, fragile ego. Can you just keep a low profile and be quiet for the next day or two, so Bloom doesn’t dismantle this team?”

“I’ll be as cordial as Bloom is,” is what Ethan settles upon. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

The only thing that can rival Ethan’s intelligence is his stubbornness. Tobias knows it’s the best he’s going to get out of Ethan, so he relents. “Okay.”

“Good. Now can we get back to work and stop talking about Bloom?”

His team nods and Ethan sighs in relief.. They still have a chance to turn things around and actually have a good day.

They fall into a productive routine, tossing around different theories, sharing research and narrowing down ideas. Too bad that only lasts for about half an hour before there’s a knock at the office door. A few seconds later, Naveen pokes his head in.

Ethan smiles because part of him was expecting Leland to show up again. “Naveen, this is a nice surprise! Don’t tell me you’re ready to get back in the saddle.”

Naveen laughs good-naturedly at his mentee. “Not quite.”

“Well what brings you down here?”

“I wanted to talk to you for a second, Ethan,” Naveen says.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes. It’s not about me, it’s work related. Team related news, that I wanted to tell you personally,” Naveen explains, fully entering the office. “Is there any way I could steal you for a few minutes?”

“If it involves the team, I think we can have the conversation here. Is this about my...spirited discussion with Leland?”

“No, it’s about the case you’re working on.”

“Now I know we don’t usually work on cases for this long, and we’re working on it.”

“I know. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Leland has some concerns about how long it’s taking you guys to treat this patient, and he told me that he wants to outsource some extra help to speed things along.”

“No thank you.”

“He’s already made phone calls. I’m just here to give you a heads up about who he picked.”

“A heads up?” Ethan scoffs and rolls his eyes. Who on earth could Leland think of reaching out to that Ethan would need a warning about? “Who is he asking for? Mendoza from MK? Catherine Morgan from Stanford? The Boogeyman?”

“I don’t think I’ve reached Boogeyman levels of infamy. Well, at least not yet.”

The voice makes the hair on the back of Ethan’s neck stand up. It’s a voice he hasn’t heard in close to three years, one that he thought he’d never hear again.

His eyes snap up, locking with the large brown ones staring back at him, and all of the breath leaves his lungs at once. The last time he looked into these eyes, they weren’t full of humor like they are now, but pure fire. His chest constricts, inhaling suddenly the most difficult task in the world.

The entire room goes silent, everyone watching as Ethan and the woman stay locked in their staring contest. Isabelle’s eyes dart back and forth, hoping someone can clue her into what’s going on, but Naveen, Harper and Tobias offer zero assistance.

Isabelle takes the quiet time to appraise the stranger. She’s petite, almost a foot shorter than Ethan even with her sky high Jimmy Choos on. The second thing that catches her attention is the mess of dark curly hair spilling over her shoulders, and the amused smirk on her face, like a cat that got the canary.

The woman breaks eye contact with Ethan to look past his shoulder. “Harper, Tobias, hello. Long time no see.”

When he regains the ability to speak, Ethan grits out, “Naomi, what on earth are you doing here?”

“I got an interesting call from Leland Bloom this morning, saying that the diagnostics team was in dire need of some assistance on a particularly difficult case. Within the hour, his private helicopter was picking me up.”

Ethan takes a sterling’s breath and silently counts to 3 before talking again. “I’m not working with you.”

“You don’t have a choice. Not unless you quit.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

Naomi rolls her eyes. “Drama was never a good look on you, darling, I was always better suited for it.” She turns her attention to the young resident gawking at her, turning on her megawatt smile. “You’re new. I don’t know you.”

“Um, n-no you don't. I’m Dr. Isabelle Proctor.”

“Isabelle,” Naomi repeats slowly, letting it roll off of her tongue. “What a pretty name.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m Dr. Naomi Ramsey.”

The last name catches her attention. Her eyes flicker over to Ethan’s face, catching the way his jaw ticks as female Dr. Ramsey talks.

“I can see the wheels turning in your head as I talk, so I’ll clear things up for you right quick,” Naomi continues. “No, the last name thing isn’t a coincidence. I’m Ethan’s ex-wife." She sticks out a hand for Isabelle to shake. "Nice to meet you.”

~v~

Tags: @openheartfanfics @mvalentine @choicesaddict5 @professorkingslay @maurine07 @aka-calliope @bluebellot @whimsicallywayward15 @blossomanarchy @takemyopenheart @jamespotterthefirst @fanmantrashcan @whatchique @ao719 @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @the-pale-goddess @writinghereandthere @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramseyx @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @cecilecontrera @thatysn @bellcat2010 @blainehellyes @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @desmaranj @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey @uneravine @choicest

#playchoices #choices: stories you play #open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc

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wanderinginksplot · 3 years

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Hiya, I was wondering if I could please request 3 (Echo) with B+O (Injury/sickness recovery + first kiss)? I don’t really mind who’s in recovery or whether it’s 501st echo/bad batch echo, I just thought these prompts would lead nicely into a confession between our two main characters; also I just want to say I love your writing!! ❤️

Aww, thank you so much for the request and for being so kind, Anon! Sorry this took forever, but I’ve been stuck in an idea block for a week or two, and I ended up writing about four different versions of this. You’re very sweet, but you probably shouldn’t be nice to me, because apparently, it makes me write one-shots that are way too long. So here’s a 2700 word one-shot...

Also! It ended up being a tad spicy toward the end. Nothing anywhere close to M-rating, but more than I usually write in one-shots.

Echo + Injury/Sickness Recovery + First Kiss

The first time you met Echo, you didn't like him very much.

You were in the medbay for a sickness that was taking Coruscant by storm, hitting nat-born GAR members especially hard. As a nat-born intelligence officer, you had been ordered to the GAR's main medbay, which had been sub-divided into large bays full of cots. Almost every cot was filled with GAR personnel who needed treatment for the same sickness.

It wouldn't have been bad if you had been able to take the meds right away and start the healing process, but you had been on a dangerous mission and fought the sickness off for longer than you should have. It had worked and you had survived your mission, but you were severely dehydrated. The medics - all clone troopers, by that point - had ordered you to stay until you were fully healed and they could get your fluid levels back where they should have been. Faced with no other options, you had agreed.

And then the 501st had arrived.

Through your IV, you had gotten through half a bag of a liquid you preferred not to think too hard about. The medics promised that your meds would be kicking in soon, and you would feel much better before the day was over. For the moment, you felt nauseated and every part of your body ached, especially your head.

When the troopers came in, their white armor painted with blue accents in various styles, they were so loud that the rest of the medbay went quiet.

One of the medics, his hair shaved short to show off a set of intricate tattoos, hurried up to them as he pulled off his gloves. You could hear his hissed question from your bed on the other side of the large room. "What are you idiots doing here?"

One of the men beamed at him. "We're in trouble!"

You scoffed to yourself. You had no difficulty believing they had gotten on someone's bad side.

The tattooed medic rubbed his temples. "Hardcase… what did you guys do now?"

You had heard stories about the rowdy 501st from other operatives. They were supposed to be a nightmare to work alongside, all explosions and heroics without any grasp of subtlety.

One of the other men stepped forward and seemed to be offering an explanation, but he did it in a voice pitched low enough that you couldn't hear him. You were grateful for that, and did your best to fall asleep.

It wasn't to be, however, as one of the 501st made his way down the row of beds in your direction. He chatted with some of the other patients, laughing loudly at their responses. By the time he reached you, you could have cheerfully put a blaster to the 5 tattooed on his temple.

"And how are you doing today?" the trooper belted out.

"In a lot of pain, actually," you snapped at him, a visceral response to the effect his voice had on your roiling stomach. "Can you please talk more quietly?"

There. A please. You were being polite.

"If I'm quiet, does that mean I can stay over here with you, pretty lady?" he asked with a wink, settling onto the foot of your bed.

You eyed him stonily. You felt revolting from the effects of the sickness, and you were wearing a GAR-issued medical gown besides. ‘Pretty’ was an attempt at flattery, and not even a believable one.

"Fives," the medic with the head tattoos admonished, stepping up to your bedside as well. "Stop. She doesn't feel well and she doesn't need you hanging around, making it worse."

"Me?" Fives asked, sounding both shocked and offended. "We both know I only make things better, Kix."

You sighed and wished with your whole soul that they would both go away. You just wanted to sleep.

"Besides," Fives continued, "We were ordered to help in the medbay. You wouldn't want me to disobey orders, would you?"

From the look on Kix's face, he had lined up a scathing retort that you were dying to hear, but you needed to make a brief announcement. "If this conversation continues right here, I am going to vomit."

You had never seen two grown men move so quickly. You would have smiled if you didn't feel so rotten.

"Echo," Kix called softly with a worried glance in your direction, beckoning yet another trooper over.

This one had no tattoos, but you vaguely recognized him as the only trooper you hadn't been able to overhear earlier.

"Get Fives away from here," Kix ordered. "Keep him productive and occupied, but don't let him talk."

Echo nodded and gave you an apologetic nod. "I'm sorry about him," he said, indicating Fives, who looked deeply offended.

"Please," was the only response you could muster, cradling your head delicately in your hands. From the bit of your peripheral vision that wasn’t blocked by your palms, you watched his shoulders slump slightly as he towed his brother away. When you finally fell asleep, your dreams were full of Echo’s disappointed face along with strong feelings of guilt.

The second time you met him was only a few hours later. You were having fever dreams. The medication had apparently worn off and no one had noticed. In your dreams, you had called a medic over a dozen times, but you always woke to find that you hadn’t said a thing, and fell asleep again before you could.

It was one of these shallow, fitful dreams that Echo interrupted. “Hey. Hey! Shhh, you’re having a nightmare. Wake up.”

Thoroughly confused by the world of the surrounding medbay, you squinted up at him. “Echo?” He nodded and you launched right into the speech you had prepared in your sleep. “I’m sorry I was rude earlier. I just… my head hurt, and you guys are loud, and-”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” Echo assured you, crouching by your bedside to put himself on your level. “The 501st - and Fives in particular - is very loud. It’s our best quality.”

You snorted at that and Echo’s kind face broke into a warm smile. “You should get back to sleep. It’s really late. Or early. I’m not sure which, but everyone else is asleep, and you should be, too.”

“I think I need some meds, actually,” you admitted. “I feel like death.”

Echo frowned and reached up to brush his fingers over your forehead, flinching back almost immediately. “Kriff, you’re burning up! Hang on, let me grab a medic for you.”

You nodded, but grabbed his wrist before he could leave, “If you bring me some water, I’ll love you forever.”

It was just a childish hyperbole, something you and your family had said whenever you had asked for a favor, particularly a minor one. Echo didn’t seem to have the same connection with it, based on the way he had frozen in place and was staring at you with wide eyes that flashed between your face and your grip on his wrist.

Clearing your throat, you released him and corrected yourself. “I mean, please? I’m very thirsty.”

Echo turned around a moment later and you sighed, hoping your hot face looked like the flush of a fever.

You were half-drowsing when Echo came back with Kix in tow. You jumped a bit when Kix said your name, and Echo was quick to soothe you. “Easy, easy. It’s just us.”

He handed you the biggest glass of water you had ever seen and retreated halfway across the medbay before you had chugged half of it.

The next day, you were actually feeling better. Granted, ‘better’ was a relative term, but you didn’t actively want to die any more, and that was something. The only thing messing up your day was the lingering awkwardness between you and Echo. Every time his circuit around the room took him past your cot, he would avoid your eyes.

From your calculations, he looped around the gigantic medbay room every six minutes or so. On his next lap past, you softly asked, “Echo?”

You had meant to be subtle and quiet, but you were still a bit less hydrated than you should have been, and it came out as a horrifying croak. If someone had called your name in that voice, you would have immediately run away, but Echo just turned slightly and looked your direction.

“I’m sorry for last night,” you apologized.

“You already said that,” Echo reminded you gently. “The 501st is loud. I understand why you weren’t happy with us.”

“Not about that,” you forced out, half-wishing you could just let him think you had been delirious with fever and thus not responsible for anything you had said or done. “I mean that I’m sorry for saying the whole love you forever thing. It was a joke, but I feel like it landed poorly.”

“There’s no need, really,” Echo told you. He smiled then, a small sad smile. “We clones don’t get to see much good in the universe. Not with this war going on. Even though you were joking, it was nice to hear something like that.”

You stared at him, trying to keep the poker face the GAR had hired you for.

“Besides,” Echo said with a laugh, “if you want to see how a bad joke really sounds, hang out with Fives for a few minutes. You’ll have plenty of opportunity to see the difference!”

You chuckled at that and the smile he gave lit his whole face as he continued his patrol. You watched Echo leave, thinking hard. It was ironic that this was the conversation where your heart had melted just a touch. It wasn’t love, not yet, but this third exchange left feelings that were inappropriate considering that you had known him for less than a day.

That night, you couldn’t sleep, betrayed by all of the napping you had done during the day. Echo was patrolling the room again and noticed you on his fourth lap.

He crouched by your bedside once again. “Can’t sleep?”

“Nope,” you admitted with a sigh. “Can you?”

Echo frowned. “I can, but I’m on watch right now.”

“On watch,” you repeated skeptically. “For what?”

“Someone has to make sure the patients are doing okay while the medics sleep,” he explained. “It’s a very important job.”

“Your brothers are all playing sabacc in the corner,” you pointed out. “Go join them. Or, better yet, get some sleep. I haven’t seen you take a break yet.”

“You were unconscious for over half of the day,” Echo reminded you. “I could have been on break then.”

“You weren’t,” you told him confidently. “Because you wouldn’t have known that I slept the whole time.”

Echo frowned. “You’re too smart to work for the army.”

“Intelligence officer,” you explained simply.

Lifting his eyebrows in exaggerated shock, Echo leapt to his feet and gave a dramatic salute. You pretended to aim a kick in his direction and you both dissolved into muffled giggles in an attempt not to wake any of the other patients.

“If you won’t try to sleep, at least sit down?” you requested, indicating the foot of your cot as you struggled to sit up so you could move out of his way. “You’re stressing me out. I can’t be expected to get better if I’m stressed.”

“We can’t have that,” Echo teased. He helped you sit up before he did anything else, but the awkwardness of the position left him hauling you up by your armpits. You were thankful that you had found the strength to walk to the sonic shower that day, at least. “Not like I can get sick from you, anyway.”

Echo sat talking with you for hours, even after his brothers had all drifted off at their sabacc table. Before you fell asleep again, he brought you another giant glass of water. You accepted it with a smile. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

He nodded and left so you could get some sleep. By the time you had finished the glass, he was on the other side of the medbay and couldn’t hear you mutter, “Love you forever.”

For the next few days, Echo lived by your bedside. The conversations you had made you laugh so hard that you went into the occasional coughing fit and got the evil eye from Kix. So, you were less pleased than you had expected to be when Kix told you that you could be discharged the following day.

That night, you couldn’t sleep. Getting your sleep pattern back under control was going to be the biggest struggle, you reflected, staring at the massive beams supporting the ceiling.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Echo teased, walking up. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

You waved a hand around dramatically. “I’m trying to commit these beautiful surroundings to memory. If I’m leaving tomorrow, I’ll need to remember the enchanting way the dust clings to that wall over there.”

Suddenly serious, Echo asked, “You’re leaving tomorrow?”

You nodded, and couldn’t tell if it was your imagination, or if he really looked disappointed. Still, he mustered a smile. “I’m glad.”

With a falsely offended gasp, you replied, “You’re glad I’m leaving? That’s rude!”

“No, I mean-!” Echo sputtered, grimacing at you when you started to laugh. “I’m glad you’re getting better. Even if you’re just as mean as the day I met you.”

“Yeah, I’m terrible,” you agreed with a grin.

“You are not,” he countered immediately. “You’re sweet and funny and- I’ll miss you. Selfish, huh?”

“I’ll miss you, too,” you admitted. “I guess we’re both selfish. But, hey, you’ll finally get some sleep now!”

“I suppose I will,” Echo said with the ghost of his usual smile. “At least we can have one last overnight conversation. Unless you’re too tired?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Sit down, Echo.”

The two of you talked for hours that night. The medbay steadily got more silent and your eyes began to ache. Try as you might, you were still recovering from your illness and the point came when you couldn’t fight it off any longer. You fell into a light doze as Echo was talking.

You were dimly aware as he finished his sentence and waited for a response, but you couldn’t make yourself say anything. Echo gave an amused sounding hum and stood from your cot. You immediately missed his warmth, but felt like he was still standing by you.

Soft lips pressed against your forehead and left as Echo started to move away. “What was that cop-out bantha dung?” you asked blearily.

Echo jumped a bit and stared down at you, but you were half-asleep, impulsive, and you knew what you wanted. You sat up to grab his shoulders and brought him back down to you, kissing him with as much fervor as an extremely tired person could muster.

He kissed you back, opening his mouth to release an almost-soundless groan, and you were suddenly wide awake. With both of you actively participating in your embrace, it didn’t take long for the pair of you to get carried away.

When you finally broke apart, it was only because someone had cleared their throat sharply.

Echo pulled back, bracing on his forearms to look up at Kix while you peered at the medic from under Echo’s chest. When had he gotten on top of you? His hip brushed against your upper thigh and you abruptly didn’t care anymore.

“I take it you’re well enough to be released from here?” Kix asked, a raised brow accentuating his smirk.

You glanced around to find that half of the medbay was awake and staring at you and Echo with expressions ranging from bleary bewilderment to amused approval. Some of Echo’s brothers were awake as well, though their faces ran heavily to outright shock.

“Uh, yeah. I’m ready to go home,” you agreed, glancing up at Echo. “Wanna come with me?”

Echo nodded and glanced up at Kix. The medic shrugged and looked at the ceiling. “No, I have no idea where Echo went. He worked several around the chrono shifts and then he disappeared. I assume he went to get some well-deserved rest. Sign here.”

The last part was directed at you and you obligingly scrawled your name on the datapad he was holding out in your direction.

“Your personal effects are in the front room,” Kix informed you. “Drink some water now and then, would you?”

“Of course, thanks,” you said absently, attention already stolen away by the fascinating blush creeping up Echo’s cheeks. You slipped out from under him and grabbed his hand to tow him behind you. “C’mon. You’re gonna love my apartment.”

---

A/N - ahh, why did this end up being such a novel? Sorry about that! If you want to read similar works, check out my masterlist or make a request based on this post (or make something up and I’ll do my best!). Thanks for reading!

#star wars #star wars the clone wars #sw tcw #tcw fanfic #tcw #echo #echo x you #echo x reader #kix #fives #illness #first kiss #star wars fanfiction #fic request

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daddyjackfrost · 3 years

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i accidentally deleted your request anon😭 but i managed to take a pic before! so, here it is!

prompt 36: “fuck you scared me... don’t you do that ever again!”

prompt 37: “are you afraid to die?”

warnings: angst, talk about death, kinda grim, self indulgent (just a bit! y/n’s thought process) car accident, loss of memory, crying osamu

osamu miya x gn!reader (intended lower case)

in the comfort of the darkness, you sat on your sweater on a hill that overlooked your neighbourhood.

after a long day of school and work, you managed to squeeze some time of solitude for your thoughts.

with your knees pulled to your chest and your chin resting on your crossed arms, you inhaled the sweet scent of freedom.

out here, away from the busy streets and tall buildings, you were free. out here, with only the trees and stars to keep you company, you were content with life.

you heard rustling behind you and shut your eyes, inhaling a long breath before you heard a familiar voice quietly call out to you.

“here,” you whispered.

you didn’t turn, nor did you look up. osamu laid a jacket beside you before sitting down next to you. his arm brushing against yours.

“how’d you know it was me?”

you smiled. it was the same question he asked you every time he received a text from you and met you up on your hill. and every time, you gave him the same answer.

“just a hunch.”

osamu drifted his eyes away from your face to the stars. there wasn’t much of a difference, he thought. the stars were just as captivating as you, you more so. you were just as fascinating as the stars, shining brightly in solitude and the dark.

without making any unnecessary noises, osamu leaned back on his hands, kicking his legs out in front of him.

he needed this break just as much as you did.

in the silence of the night, you and osamu sat together, letting the stress and sorrows of the previous week slip away.

simultaneously, you both leaned back, your heads resting on the soft fresh grass.

you gently shut your eyes, reminiscing in the quiet atmosphere. no one was here to bother you. there were no looming assignments or demeaning parents.

out here, it was just you and the stars.

and osamu.

“are ya afraid to die?”

your eyes flew open, and you turned your head, grass tickling your cheek.

osamu’s dark grey eyes twinkled as he stared into your eyes. you thought about his question. obscure thoughts tangled with apparent ones.

you turned your head, facing the dark sky.

“not really.”

osamu hummed. “why not?”

you lifted your hand, spreading your fingers so each nail connect with a stare.

“because it’s inevitable.”

osamu raised his eyebrow. shifting to his side to face you completely. “care to expand?”

“i’m not afraid to die because the second you’re welcomed into this world, you’re introduced to the concept of death. you know you’re going to die. so you live while you can.”

osamu’s eyes were set on you. you always sounded so old—mature—when you talked like this. like you knew things he couldn’t understand.

fate he couldn’t fathom.

“i’m not afraid to die because i’ve been preparing for it my whole life.”

you turned your head to meet osamu’s curious eyes.

“that’s a bit depressing,” osamu laughs.

you grin at him, your lips pulling into a breathtaking smile. “it is.”

after a few silent moments, you whispered,

“memento mori.”

“what?”

you pretended to squish the stars in between your thumb and index finger like grapes.

“it’s a latin phrase that originated from ancient rome.”

“what does it mean?”

osamu loved your knowledge of random things. he knew an abundance of phrases from different origins because of you.

“remember that you will die.”

“god, y/n,” osamu sighed. “you’re so grim.”

you smiled. “what? it keeps me grounded.” osamu let out a light chuckle.

“no matter what i do, how much money i make, who i marry, i’m not going to live forever. i won’t go down in history unless i do something monumental. i’ll live, i’ll aim for a good life, and then, inevitably, i’ll die. it helps remind me that stress and sadness does eventually come to and end.”

you licked your lips. “are you afraid to die?”

osamu shrugged. “yeah. i am.”

you shifted your weight to your side so you were completely facing him. with your arm bent under your head, you rested your head on your elbow.

“how come?”

osamu shifted his eyes to the ground before meeting yours again.

“i guess i’m afraid of not living my life to the fullest. i wanna be happy. do things that’ll make me smile. i wanna die knowing i lived the best i could.”

you gently smiled at him. “what’s stopping you?”

silence.

osamu stared at you like he didn’t know how to comprehend your question.

what was stopping him?

he was young, talented, and persistent.

a heavy realization fell upon osamu. there was nothing stopping him. he was stopping him.

the only person who stood between his happiness, was himself.

with a goofy smile, osamu turned to face the stars.

“nothing. nothing at all.”

you smiled at him, happy he understood. you gently pushed yourself up, letting out a small yawn. you stretched your arms, sighing when you heard your shoulders quietly crack.

“time to go home.”

osamu let out a whine. “do we have too?”

you stood up, brushing your jeans with your hands. you grabbed your sweater, slipping it on.

“yes, ‘samu.” you narrowed your eyes at his frown. “we have school tomorrow.”

osamu rolled his eyes, but got up anyways. he grabbed his jacket, throwing it over his shoulder.

“let’s go home then.”

you both walked down the hill and into the street, bickering and laughing.

your heart felt so full. this is what you were afraid of losing. this laughter and feeling of content. you weren’t afraid of dying, you were afraid of loosing the feeling of your heart being full forever.

so when you pushed osamu out of the way, and a car came blazing towards you, you didn’t have a moment to think about what was going to happen.

only that you really liked laughing and would miss it.

before the pain took over, you remembered hearing osamu’s loud and panicked voice yell your name. the last thing you saw were his tear-filled grey eyes.

***

the smell of antiseptic, stainless steel, and blood filled your senses and your eyes flew open.

as quickly as you opened your eyes, you squeezed them shut. the bright lights of the hospital room too strong for your weak eyes.

the machines around you buzzed and you groaned. pain had enveloped you completely and you licked your dry lips.

your head was pounding and your memory was hazy. you pulled yourself up, wincing in pain when the iv in your arm moved with you.

you gently opened your eyes, blinking to get used to the bright white light.

your eyes swept across the large hospital room and your frowned.

how did i get here?

your eyes fell on a mop of grey hair and you blinked a few times to clear your vision. your eyes took in the male sitting by your bed, his eyes closed and his lips pulled into a frown.

you tried putting a name to the far familiar face, but you came up empty, and at that thought, you started spluttering, trying to form words.

at the sound of your hoarse breath, the grey-haired man’s eyes flew open and locked on you.

your eyes were locked on the rheumy and heavy-lidded eyes, the taste of familiarity on your tongue but unidentifiable.

“y/n...”

the voice you had heard in your dreams whispered a name you knew was yours.

you licked your cracks lips. “water.”

immediately, the trance the man was in has broken and he sprang up, grabbing a water bottle and handing it to you. you hesitatingly grabbed it, staring at the lid before gently twisting it.

the man stared at you, his eyes burning holes into you. you kept your gaze on your bed, afraid of the pain you felt when you looked at him.

he quickly left the room, yelling an unfamiliar name loudly.

you drank half of the water bottle before twisting the cap back on. you leaned back, wincing. you gingerly brought your hand to your forehead, gasping at the feeling of bandage.

a tall, thin and pale man with light brown hair and round glasses walked into the room. he wore a long white coat and was holding a clipboard. the same man with grey hair and a women of much shorter height with tear-stained cheeks walked in behind him.

the man, whom you assumed was a doctor, walked up to you, keeping a distance. he smiled at you before motioning to the chair beside you.

you nodded, unable to use your words.

“y/n, i’m doctor kim.” he waited before you met his eyes. “do you know where you are?”

you stared at him. he waited patiently until you gently nodded. “the hospital.”

doctor kim smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

“that’s right. can you tell me your full name?”

you stared at him, your eyebrows furrowed. you tried remembering, but your head began to hurt profoundly. it was like there was a wall that separated you from your memories.

“it’s okay,” doctor kim whispered. “you must feel disoriented.”

you didn’t nod, just fought the wall. you knew that you had a last name. it was right there, but unaccessible.

after a few painfully silent moments later, you let out a heavy sigh.

“l/n. y/n l/n.”

doctor kim smiled and the women in the corner of the room let out a sob, her hand coming to cover her mouth.

you stared at the women, a wave of familiarity hit you and you frowned. you knew her. so why couldn’t you remember?

“y/n,” you turned your head to face the calm eyes of the doctor. “you were in an accident.”

your frown deepened. “i don’t... remember.”

doctor kim nodded, his eyes glancing at the clipboard before he smiled a faux smile at you.

“you hit your head really hard. it’ll take you a few days to regain all your memories. you remember your name, that’s great process. over the week, your memories should all come back to you.”

you nodded. an accident? why didn’t you remember? and why was the man with grey hair staring at you like that?

doctor kim checked the machines before making his way to the door. he smiled at you and then looked at the women.

“ms. l/n, can you come with me to fill out a few pages?”

your breath hitched. your eyes were locked on familiar ones and you quietly whispered, “mom?”

your mother painfully smiled at you before running out the door behind the doctor. you watched her go with a frowned.

you turned your head to the man who stood in the corner. his posture was rigid and you were sure he hadn’t blinked since he walked in the room. his gaze unwavering.

you shifted your eyes from his, his gaze too intense.

“can i... can i sit?”

you nodded. his voice was intensely familiar. it was the voice you heard in your dreams. the one you had grew attached too.

osamu sat on the chair with hesitation. he was feeling so many things at once. you had been in a week long coma, and osamu hadn’t had a moment of rest since he sat with you in the ambulance.

osamu let out a heavy sigh, bringing his hands to cover his face. you watched him from the corner of your vision. he felt so familiar, so why couldn’t you recall his name?

osamu began to cry, his shoulders shaking.

you turned your head to face him, your lips set into a permanent frown. for some reason unknown to you, your heart hurt at the sight of his tears.

“fuck, y/n,” osamu lifted his head. his eyes brimmed with red. “you scared me.”

you stared at him, unsure of what to do. you didn’t know why you had scared him. but his shoulders shook and his lips trembled, so you stayed quiet.

“don’t you— don’t you do that ever again!”

you just silently watched as the grey-haired man cried and yelled at you. “don’t you ever push me away! don’t you ever try and save me again!”

the room was heavy with silence. the grey haired man sobbed into his hands and the machines buzzed in your head.

you don’t know what compelled you to say this, but you did anyways. it felt right. like the man crying in front of you deserved to hear these words.

“i won’t. i’m sorry.”

at the sound of your voice, his crying grew quieter and after a few moments, he wiped his tears, his bloodshot eyes staring at you.

“promise me.”

you saw the whirlpool of emotions in his grey eyes and although you couldn’t decipher them, you promised anyways.

when he smiled, his cheeks using muscles it hadn’t in a week, you suddenly felt guilty.

you had promised to a stranger.

a stranger who seemed to know you better than you knew yourself.

a stranger who seemed to think you knew him.

i didn’t know what kind of angst you wanted anon, so i kinda went with the flow! also, i was too lazy to add capitals. so. i think it adds to the theme. sure.

also yes. doctor kim from dr. romantic. sue me.

taglist: @h-grangerstudies @elektrosonix @snoozless @ackerpotato @asterroidd @rinrinniesstuff @bokuatsubro @literaleftist @howcanyoubreathewithnozaire @addicedtoeverythinganime @felixsamour @megumeee @aghashiii @fail-big @kailleis-sunshine

requests are closed.

hana’s author note.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu angst #miya osamu #hq osamu #osamu scenarios #osamu x reader #osamu angst #osamu x y/n #hq x you #hq angst #haikyuu imagines #hq #hq imagines #hq prompts #hana.writes!

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nevertheless-moving · 4 years

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Suicidal Misunderstanding AU Part V (SW Time Travel AU #27)

Part I - - - - - Part II - - - - - Part III - - - - - Part IV

After a meandering walk through what felt like every path the hanging gardens and marsh pools had to offer, Obi-Wan stopped to lean against a stone wall.

“Obi-Wan? Are you ready to stop and eat something? As nice as this has been, I’m getting hungry and I’m guessing you are too.”

Anakin was only being a little sarcastic. It had genuinely been nice to peacefully spend the day with Obi-Wan like this- they hadn’t been to the marsh habitats since the war started. He had resigned himself to watching Obi-Wan enthusiastically greet every wandering knight, master, and elder who they passed.

It was actually starting to become impressive- Anakin never realized how many members of the Order his Master was friendly with- no wonder he was given a seat on the high council! But after the last heartfelt clasping of hands with a completely unfamiliar Bothan (thankfully for Anakin’s petty jealousy, Obi-Wan wasn’t hugging everyone), Anakin had asked who the knight was.

Obi Wan frowned. “No idea. But I suppose I must have seen him somewhere.”

Anakin was no longer feeling impressed.

When a group of crechelings wandered by, Obi-Wan appeared briefly overwhelmed with emotion. His shields (apparently even better drunken than sober) didn’t let anything specific slip. But he knew Obi-Wan was feeling something intensely. Bizarrely, instead of saying hello, Obi-Wan hurried out and away with Anakin dragged behind, bringing them back to the stone wall and their skipped breakfast.

“Not yet.” Obi-Wan responded hoarsely. “I want to visit the Room of A Thousand Fountains first, and say a few more goodbyes.”

“Goodbyes?” Anakin asked, a slight chill running down his back. “We’re not shipping back out until the end of the week. Do you always say goodbye to everyone this thoroughly before redeployment?”

“No. Do you think I should have?” Obi-Wan frowned. “I feel like that would have been more upsetting than anything else.”

“Ok then, why are you saying goodbye now? To the whole order?”

Obi-Wan didn’t reply, he just pushed off the wall to continue on his quest to apparently visit every corner of the temple.

“Master, please, you’re worrying me. If you won’t eat, then let me take you to the Healing Halls so they can check you over for drugs. We can visit the fountains after.”

Obi-Wan finally paused, thinking that over. “I would like to see Bant. She should be there, right?”

Bant did end up being there, and was more touched than disturbed by Obi-Wan’s sincere joy to see her. While Obi-Wan wandered the halls greeting injured Knights, she ran several tests.

“As far as I can tell, all you had last night was human-appropriate alcohol. No force-user specific drug interactions, and no traces of Spice. It’s possible there’s something I missed, but your force presence doesn’t feel off balance in the manner I specifically associate with drug-induced altered perception. Your blood sugar is a little low and you’re somewhat dehydrated, especially considering you’re in the temple, not out on a mission.”

“I’ll take care of my physical needs after I visit the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Just because a vision isn’t purely induced by the force doesn’t mean I can’t draw meaning from it. I do appreciate how you always looked out for me though, Bant. I’ve missed your fussing.” Obi-Wan smiled, clasping one of her hands in his.

Bant sighed, “If Master Yoda wasn’t off world I’d urge you to talk to him. I haven’t seen you this shaken by a vision since we were younglings. Even if you do seem to be handling it fairly... calmly.”

Obi-Wan laughed. “I’ll tell him you said that someday. I might be wrong, but I think he’ll be happy to learn about-” Obi-Wan gestured around vaguely, “all this. I’ll talk to him at some point. I’m sure of it.”

She glanced over at Anakin, who had been a quietly looming shadow the whole visit. He seemed both relieved by the diagnosis as well as bewildered. “Can I speak to you privately?”

Obi-Wan nodded and Anakin stalked out of the test room.

She scrutinized him, worry more obvious now, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you slipping tenses this whole time. You’re still not sure where your vision ends and reality begins, are you? Do you even know when you are?”

Obi-Wan looked down. “I know what’s real and what’s not. I’m just...enjoying not fully living in the moment. I have every intention of waking up.”

“Yeah, that’s a BIG red flag, Obi-Wan. Force.” She tilted her head back and forth, examining him with obvious concern. “I am scheduling an appointment for a soul healer and you are going to go, understand?” She demanded.

Obi-Wan agreed far too easily. She reluctantly let him leave with an earnest promise to eat something real.

Obi-Wan came outside to find Anakin pacing.

“I’m glad you’re still here,” he told his former Padawan, ignoring the ache in his chest.

“Of course Ori’vod,” Anakin said, ducking his head with a shy smile. “What did Bant say?”

“She wants me to eat something real and visit a soul healer.” Obi-Wan sighed. “Well, I can do at least one of those things.”

“A soul healer! She thinks you’re crazy?” Anakin asked offended.

“First of all, you don’t have to be unstable to visit a soul healer. I’ve seen them in the past, when there wasn’t as much wrong with me. I’m sorry if I led you to believe you couldn’t seek out help for your problems.” Obi-Wan said. Another mistake.

“I-I know that. I just thought, you know, Jedi can be judgmental of that sort of thing. A good Jedi is supposed to be able to just, meditate stuff away.” Anakin said bitterly.

Obi-Wan thought furiously. Was this why he had been so blindsided by Anakin’s fall? Had his padawan been so afraid of judgement that he hid all of the warning sides of his struggles with darkness? Maybe he could ask Owen for some sort of petty assistance when he brought over bantha milk next time, to demonstrate to young Luke that it was ok to ask for help. No, he was probably still too young for those sorts of lessons to have much meaning. The insight would require meditation, when he was more sober.

Unsure how ‘Anakin’ would respond, Obi-Wan tentatively said, “You’re right, that some Jedi might judge for seeking such aid. But I think in the last years of the war, that sort of opinion became less and less common. After all, an ideal Jedi shouldn’t be leading an army. I don’t know if anyone can be perfect during war, let alone a peacekeeper.”

When that failed to garner positive or negative reply, Obi-Wan let out a breath. “It hardly matters, since I can’t exactly visit a therapist, let alone a soul healer, given my present living conditions.”

Anakin seemed to process that, giving Obi-Wan a long, searching look. “What’s your next point?”

“Hmm?”

“You said first of all, and I think that was all one thing, so what’s your second point?”

“Not exactly being able to visit a soul healer regularly doesn’t count as a separate retort?”

“I guess? I’m just trying to understand what you’re trying to tell me” A twinge of frustration crept into Anakin’s otherwise level tone.

"I appreciate that, truly, and I regret the number of hurtful miscommunications that sprung up from me failing to do just that. Well, I suppose, by most reasonable standards, I am ‘crazy.’ Getting some help with unraveling my mind would probably be best, if it were an option, but it isn’t so...” Obi-Wan shrugged.

Before any followup questions could be asked, they finally arrived at the main entrance to the Room of a Thousand Fountains. The archway was stunning, water flowing upwards along the stone in intricate, shifting tessellations. When they stepped through, Obi-Wan was delighted to see Mace Windu sitting on a bench by the entrance.

“Mace! I was hoping to see you.”

Mace looked at him. He seemed at first, to be utterly unsurprised by the duo’s arrival. But the longer he stared, the more visible shock overtook his features. “Master Koon recommended I look for you...force what happened.”

Obi-Wan just chuckled. “Oh you know. What didn’t happen.”

“What’s wrong?” Anakin asked urgently. “What do you see, Master Windu?”

Obi-Wan tried to wave them both off, laugh a little more forced. “Please, I came here to relax. I’m sure it would be easier to say what’s not wrong with-”

“Kark it, Obi-Wan this isn’t a joking matter.” Master Windu’s voice was calm, but insistent. He slowly started approaching Obi-Wan as though the fellow council member were a feral loth-cat.

“You look as if...nearly every shatter point around you has broken open. Force, I think you’ve been carrying some of these with you since you were a child. Usually when things that deep break...And some of these- some of these are too big to have just affected you.” Mace hesitantly reached forward, brushing against something invisible.

A chill ran down Anakin’s spine, again. What the kriff did Obi-Wan see in his vision? Last night he mentioned the temple burning, their rooms turned to ash, and Anakin had just...let that go in favor of greedily spending time with this addictively affectionate version of Obi-Wan.

“Mace...” Obi-Wan groaned. “I had been wondering what you might say to me but this is...please, can’t you just give me a hug and let me enjoy the peace for one more hour.”

“Master Kenobi,” Mace said, seeming to revert to an even more serious version of himself. “What I see cracked open around you is bigger than the reemergence of the Sith on Naboo, bigger than the first battle of Genosis. Whatever has happened, you cannot possibly keep it to yourself, practically or morally.”

To the shock of both Windu and Skywalker, Obi-Wan actually rolled his eyes at that. “Mace. You are not telling me anything I do not already know. And I am choosing to spend a little longer enjoying the unique joys of the Temple before dealing with the harshness of reality. Haven’t I earned a small break? I’m not abandoning my duty, but if I don’t take care of myself where I can I’ll go madder than I already have.”

At no point did Obi-Wan’s voice get whiny or upset, he just calmly dropped a series of bombshells like he was repeating an argument.

Mace and Anakin exchanged glances, but if Mace was trying to communicate something, it was utterly lost on Anakin.

“Alright, Master Kenobi. I trust your judgement.”

And, to Anakin’s shock, Mace pulled Obi-Wan for a tight hug. “And I care about you, Obi-Wan.”

For a brief, hysterical moment, Anakin Skywalker wondered if he was about to witness his Master break down crying on the shoulder of Mace Windu the Master of the Jedi Order.

But Obi-Wan just let out a slow breath and returned the embrace before bowing deeply in Respect. Windu returned the bow with a placid expression.

“If you’ll excuse me...I think I’d like to stand by the waterfall alone for a moment.” He paused, turning to address Anakin. “If you’re willing to wait for me, I’ll happily rejoin you by the glowing mushrooms.” Anakin nodded silently and Obi-Wan beamed before leaving the two alone together.

Mace turned to the young knight in a silent demand for answers, and, for once, Anakin was eager to share what he was dealing with. “He came back drunk last night, talking about the temple burning down, and being well-”

“Unusually emotionally expressive?” Mace offered.

Anakin nodded. “Took a blood sample to analyze in the morning. He woke determined to hug every sentient being in the temple. I actually managed to get him to the halls just before we came here; Master Eerin said there was nothing in his system and...I just don’t know. He’s been off today, but not in a bad way, exactly. Could a vision have caused the shattering you saw?

Mace furrowed his brow. “Not any vision like I’ve ever seen but...these are dark times. And Master Kenobi has had historically bad luck. If some new cataclysm is coming for us- I absolutely believe he’d be the first of us to stumble into it. Something terrible and extraordinary must have happened in the 24 hours since I last saw him in person.”

A beat passed.

“I should go to the mushrooms before I lose track of him,” Anakin said quietly.

Mace nodded. “Skywalker, if you need assistance dragging him back to the healers for whatever reason, comm me, understood?”

“Understood. Master Koon said the same.” the Knight replied, heart pounding.

The Windu clasped him on the shoulder firmly, "I’m going to check in with Master Eerin. It’s possible she has some suspicions that my observations will help her confirm. Until then...”

“I’ll look out for him.” Anakin promised.

Part VI

#star wars #suicidal misunderstanding au #star wars au no 27 #my au #sw #time travel #obi wan kenobi needs a hug #oh boy we are BUILDING towards the #angst #it 1am #lol im supposed to work tomorrow but ive said that before #thank you everyone for being supportive im glad youre all hyperventilating with me over this sad boy

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talkfastromance4 · 3 years

Text

Temporary--Luke&Lily series

a/n: so sorry it’s taken me a month to complete this. It’s a heavy topic with a lot of emotions and I was feeling what my characters were feeling. This is very detail oriented, some medical jargon (I did my best research and some of it was from watching Grey’s Anatomy which I know isn’t realistic but I tried)

warnings: NICU mentions throughout, premature birth, C-section, sadness, moments of grief and loneliness, some sexual content. **Please read very carefully, this is a sensitive topic**

word count: 9.7k

Masterlist

Luke&Lily Masterlist

Magical Memoriess&Misfortunes (<-- catch up here)

feedback is always welcome, I hope you enjoy it.

****

It’s like you’re in a horrible dream. You’re frozen in terror at the multiple bodies moving above you, their voices warped but all you feel is immense pain and fright. You search for Luke through your blurred and clouded vision. The lights are too bright. It hurts your eyes.

You think you hear your name through the thick cotton cloud that has somehow gotten in your ear. Why can’t you hear properly? Where’s Luke? How did you get on this moving bed?

Another white-hot-blazing pain slices through you. You think you scream. Hands are on you and then it goes black…

…When you wake up, you’re still in this horrible nightmare that won’t seem to end. Usually when the terrible things keep happening, you wake up in a cold sweat.

“…. lovie…”

Your head lolls to the side and you see Luke’s eyes peeking out above a blue mask and a blue cap. It still feels like you’re stuck in a cloud and you feel a tug below you. Before you can look down, Luke cups your cheek and shakes his head.

You don’t know what he means but tears start rolling down your cheeks and then you close your eyes again. Why can’t you wake up? You just want to wake up, get out of this night terror…

…Coming to again and you hear more voices and commotion. You hear the urgency. Their words meet your ears, but the meaning doesn’t register with your brain. What is happening? Luke still has a firm grip on your face, but you look beyond him and see a group of people in blue gathered around a small thing. Their hands work quickly. You wish your tears would make what’s happening clearer.

“He’s breathing! It’s very labored!”

“Intubate him. Page Dr. Chambers.”

“Move people!”

He? Who’s he?

You look to Luke and he’s smiling through his own tears, his forehead pressed to yours.

Just as you’re about to connect the very blurry dots, more pain ensues. This is the worst thing you’ve ever felt in your life. It’s all over your body and it’s in your chest, collapsing onto you.

More voices.

More urgency.

More terror.

More questions.

Then, you drift off once more, the pain ceasing with each gasped breath.

Soft, methodical beeps drift you awake. You’re not on that strange cloud anymore but your body feels heavy, weighted. You search your brain for where you are, the sheets are crisp and your feet are cold. Disney World swims by and you’re confused because you remember waking up after you fainted.

Was that real?

Or is this real?

Then it hits you, like the snap of a rubber band breaking all the distorted memories and voices and hands all come back. The pain. The tug. He…

You gasp and flash your eyes open. You’re met with a white ceiling and wires and tubes suspended above you. There’s commotion to your left then Luke’s face is in your vision. His eyes are red with dark circles underneath them; his hair is a disarray as if he’s been pulling his fingers through it repeatedly.

“Oh, thank God, Y/N I was so worried. They told me you’d be asleep for a while because you lost so much blood…so much blood…but you’re okay now. You’re awake. I’m right here, lovie, I’m right here,” he rushes out in a frantic whisper.

He touches your forehead carefully and he’s so warm. You’re still trying to string everything together but there’s so many gaps in time. You’re pinpointing things by the different types of pain you experienced.

“What…what happened?” you croak then try to swallow. But your mouth and throat are so dry it’s like trying to swallow sand. It hurts.

When will the pain stop?

Luke’s eyes soften, he continues to stroke your forehead and into your hair. He licks his chapped lips then shakes his head.

“I…”

“Did I lose the baby?” you whisper, voice sounding like broken glass. Tears well up in your eyes again.

“No, no, no…shhh, shhh,” he soothes wiping at your tears with his other hand.

“They don’t…” he takes a deep shuddering breath, “you had a C-section. He’s in the NICU being monitored, I only got a small glimpse of him before they took him away. He’s so small and I don’t know what’s happening, no one has come by and I’ve been worried you wouldn’t wake up.”

And then you’re comforting him by pulling his head to yours, he sobs into you and you pet his hair. Your voice is lost, you feel the sudden loss of your baby not in you anymore, your heart is very fragile and seeing Luke like this terrifies you.

But Luke also said ‘he’ and a small smile appears on your lips. You have a son.

“I’m so glad you’re awake, baby,” he whispers. You feel his hot tears soak through the gown on your shoulder.

“Can you call for a nurse?” you ask kissing his hair delicately. At least, you hope you do because your lips are also very chapped and dry. You need some damn water.

“What hurts?” his head snaps up and you see why his eyes are so red; from his tears.

You swallow and swipe at his own tears.

“We need damn information about our son, and I need some damn water,” your voice shakes with ferocity. Luke punches the call button repeatedly until a nurse runs in.

After hydrating yourself with water, Luke took your hand keeping his gaze on you as you demanded the nurse to get your doctor, or your son’s doctor, to come and give you information. You’re never normally one to yell at someone, but your memories have so many holes in them you need to know what’s happened.

The nurse tries to console you but you’re hell bent on finding out about your son. Your son you haven’t even seen yet.

“I will walk there if I have to,” you threaten through gritted teeth. The more frustrated you become the more prominent the throb and ache below your waist also becomes.

“I will go find your doctor right away, ma’am,” the nurse nods frantically and runs from the room. You glare in his wake.

Luke squeezes your hand; you look at him.

“I love you,” he says simply but you hear way more than that.

I’m scared, too. I don’t know what to do either. We’re in this together. I’m never letting go.

Shortly after, a doctor walks in the room, her expression timid and she’s scrolling on her iPad.

“Mrs. Hemmings, how are you feeling? Any pain we can help with? I’m Dr. Wilson and I administered the C-section.”

“I’m fine. Take me to my son and let me know what’s happening,” you demand.

“Mrs. Hemmings, with your son being born at only 25 weeks the next 24 hours is very critical. We are monitoring him as we speak, I have my best staff on his watch,” Dr. Wilson explains, her voice cool and collected.

“What happened?”

Dr. Wilson steps closer to your side of the bed, her round face and almond-shaped eyes show both kindness and fire in them. You’re still on the fence on how to feel about her because she didn’t tell Luke anything.

“Part of your placenta was twisted, and it caused you to go into early labor which also caused stress on your baby. Thankfully, you got here in time and we were able to get him out before it became worse. His breathing was labored and with him being so small and born extremely early, his organs haven’t fully developed yet.”

“Why are the next 24 hours critical?” Luke asks, his hold on your hand is like a death grip.

“Because he’s still so small, his lungs aren’t at the correct size they should be. Lack of oxygen can cause severe brain damage or heart failure. We have an ET, endotracheal tube in his mouth which is hooked to a ventilator to help him breathe. An IV is also administering the nutrition he needs, we’re monitoring his heart rate, blood pressure, oxygen levels, and he’s being kept in an incubator that helps simulate the inside of the womb.”

You take in all the information, your heart longing for your baby boy that you have no idea what he looks like.

“What’s the survival rate for a baby born at 25 weeks?” your voice cracks. Luke shifts closer to you, his other hand covering yours.

Dr. Wilson glances between you and Luke before answering solemnly, “Between 67 to 76% survival.”

Luke lets out a choked gasp and you shift your eyes to the ceiling to keep the burning tears from falling.

“I can promise you Mr. and Mrs. Hemmings, that we are doing everything in our power to make sure he makes it through the next 24 hours. He’s a strong little guy.”

“Is there any way we can see him?” Luke’s voice wavers and is thick with emotion.

“Infection is very prominent right now; any outside contact can make him head in a worse direction.”

“Please,” you beg in a whisper meeting Dr. Wilson’s eyes. You notice that they’re brown. “I need to see him. I don’t want him to be alone if he…if he…”

You bite your lip and shake your head; you’re too overcome with emotions to finish a sentence you don’t even want to think about.

“Mrs. Hemmings, I can’t risk your stitches tearing. You’ve lost a lot of blood; your blood pressure is extremely high due to the stress of early labor.”

“I don’t care! Please, let me see him. I need to see what my baby looks like,” you cry. Luke rubs at your shoulder affectionately saying your name. You can’t look at him now. If you do you’ll lose this fiery courage that’s inside you right now.

“I understand. I’ll see what I can do, but are you sure you aren’t in any pain?”

“My stomach hurts,” you whisper.

“I’ll have a nurse fix that for you. I will be right back,” Dr. Wilson smiles then leaves the room.

The male nurse you screamed at comes back in and makes quick work with your IV. You’re too distraught to look or even speak to Luke so you keep your eyes fixed on the white board on the opposite wall. The name of your nurse is Tom, and you look at each yellow face on the ‘rate your pain’ scale. You’re fixated on the number zero face, it’s the happiest looking one with a wide-open smile.

That scale is wrong. The pain and fear and worry you’re feeling doesn’t equate a ten. It’s too powerful, it weighs down on you but at the same time you feel nothing. The pain is too much that it’s also gone. Your pain is at a zero, a big circle of nothing and everything all at once.

You’re not sure how much time has passed before Dr. Wilson comes back.

“I cannot take you to see him, but I found a way where you can see him,” she smiles then hands you her iPad.

It’s heavy in your hand and you gasp upon the first look of your baby boy. He’s surrounded by blankets under a large light with tubes, wires, and circular patches attached to his tiny, tiny self. You see his small chest moving rapidly with his breaths and you see the tiniest hat on his head. Luke drapes himself next to you, his lips pressing onto your temple.

“There he is,” you whisper touching your finger to the screen. “He looks so helpless…”

“How is he?” Luke asks.

“His oxygen level is still very low, but he’s taking the nutrients very well.”

You’ve already got his features memorized, and yet you can’t stop looking at him. You wish you could touch him, let him know you’re there and that you love him.

“Can we keep this in here?” you ask.

“Of course. I’ll be back with more updates, but I need you to rest and heal yourself, Mrs. Hemmings. Is there any family we need to contact?”

“The girls!” you gasp and turn to Luke.

“Shit,” he exhales then checks the time on his watch. “Lily’s with Cory by now and Posy…shit! I’ll call Ashton and then call Cory…”

He continues to mumble to himself as he searches for his phone. You turn back to the screen, your heart longing for your little boy.

Hours have gone by, the room you’re in is darkened from the night sky peeking through the blinds. The iPad is still on your lap and you’ve heard every conversation Luke has had while he made phone calls. Daycare called Ashton when neither you nor Luke picked Posy up and both of your phones went unanswered.

According to Ashton, Luke sent out a text to the band group chat that said ‘at hospital. Emergency get the girls will call’ but he doesn’t even remember sending it. Everything happened so fast and yet it felt like it dragged.

Posy is at your home with Ashton and KayKay who said will stay with her for as long as you two need. Just when you think of Lily, Luke already asks if they’d be all right picking her up from Cory’s on Sunday and they said yes.

“Lily might want to stay with Cory,” you tell him after he hangs up with Ashton. He’s tapping away at his phone, probably texting Calum and Michael or his family. Or all of them. You’re not sure but now you have Lily and Posy on your mind.

“It’s too late to call him,” Luke mutters and falls into the chair beside your bed. He scoots closer and peers at the iPad screen.

“Where’s my phone? I’ll call him so he and Ella can discuss it,” you hold out your hand.

“Lovie, it’s almost ten thirty at night—”

“Give me my phone so I can call him, Luke,” you interrupt a little too harshly. “Please.”

He holds your gaze for a moment before reaching into his other pants pocket. He hands you your phone and you scroll to Cory’s name under your favorites. You stare at your baby boy as the phone rings.

“Hey, Y/N, what’s going on?” Cory asks and you feel your emotions rising to the surface at the sound of his voice.

You force them down.

“Um, me and Luke are at the hospital. Something…” you suck in a large breath but your voice still trembles. “Something went wrong and I had an emergency C-section and the baby is in the NICU. Posy is home with Ashton and KayKay and they said they’d pick up Lily tomorrow but I know she’d probably want to stay with you. And I…I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but Lily needs to know. She’s been seeing everything going on around her and I don’t want her to be scared.”

“Of course, they can both stay with us. I still have Lily’s toddler bed. How are you? Tell me what’s going on.”

You tell him everything. Luke holds your hand as you do, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your knuckles and your wedding ring.

“The doctor said he’s all right for now but he has to get through the next 24 hours?” Cory clarifies gently.

“Yes.”

“First of all, congratulations on a little boy,” he says and you can hear his smile through the phone. “You’re doing fine and he is too and he’ll continue to get better because he’s a fighter.”

“How do you know that? He’s so small, Cory….”

“I know it because you’re a fighter, I’m sure you’re giving the nursing staff hell and highwater to get answers,” he chuckles.

“Maybe a little. I feel bad about it.”

“You’re scared and you’re worried and this all happened so fast. But Luke is with you and you’ve got all of us supporting and loving you. You should try and get some sleep and I’ll tell Lily everything in the morning. Do you want me to call you so she can talk to you?”

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks, Cory.”

“Tell Luke I say hi and that I’m here for you two, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Love you, Y/N.”

“Love you too,” you sigh then the call ends. You turn to Luke, the circles under his eyes seem to have darkened and you reach over to touch the shadows on his cheeks. “He said he’ll keep the girls and will call tomorrow so we can talk to Lily. He says hi.”

Luke nods slowly then laces his fingers with yours. He kisses the tips of your fingers, his eyes closing.

You and Luke were sent hourly updates on your son. He’s been in the same condition each time, you try to find positivity in that because he’s not getting worse, but he’s also not in the clear yet. When Cory called again with Lily on the phone, you and Luke tried to make your voices sound positive. She asked a lot of questions and wondered when she could come see her new brother.

“He’s a little sick right now, honey. We need him to get better so we can all be together, okay?” you told her and she was silent for a while.

“When are you and dada gonna come home?”

“Hopefully soon, my love,” Luke tells her.

“What about Piggy?”

“Uncle Cal has her at his house,” you make up then quickly look to Luke who’s already pulling out his phone to text Calum.

You’re being horrible parents, forgetting everything like this but all of it still doesn’t seem real. Probably because you haven’t actually seen or held your son in your own arms. Your stitches are healing nicely but your body still seems to think it’s pregnant and that stirs up even more conflicting emotions.

“Be a good girl for your daddy and Ella, okay my sweet?”

“Okay. Can you give my brother a kiss for me?”

“We will, Lily. We love you so much.”

You and Luke tried to occupy your time by watching tv but you’re only watching the bodies move across the screen. You nod on and off but always jerk awake in case you miss the doctor or nurse coming in. Luke comforts you each time, assuring you that there’s no change and points to the screen where you can see your son.

The circles under his eyes only seem to darken with each passing minute. He helps you walk to the bathroom and back into bed. You try telling him he can go home to shower and get more clothes but he refuses.

“I’m not leaving you or our son until I know he’s okay.”

One of your favorite movies is playing on the tv, it’s a black and white film about a couple who adopts a baby girl. It goes through their funny moments trying to figure it all out but it ends tragically with the little girl getting sick. You drifted off before it came to that part and then you were shaken awake by Luke.

Dr. Wilson enters the room with a big smile on her face. You and Luke take hold of each other’s hands, holding onto each other in desperation.

“He’s in the clear. His oxygen levels have elevated and he has a steady heartbeat. It’s still going to be a while until you’ll be able to take him home, he’s still at risk for a lot of infection and we want to make sure his organs continue to develop correctly,” Dr. Wilson explains.

“He’s okay?” you whisper.

“He is. He’s a little warrior.”

“When…when can we see him?” Luke asks.

“Let me check on your stitches first, and if they look all right I can take you down now, if you’d like.”

“Please, please,” you nod scrambling to move your blankets off you.

Luke is wheeling you down the brightly lit hallway in the NICU ward, you see other parents hovering around the incubator their baby is in. You and Luke had to be fitted into the light pink gowns with masks and gloves before you could see your son. You were more than okay wearing the odd things if it meant being able to finally see him.

Luke rolls you in between families until Dr. Wilson stops at the last station near the window. A nurse is standing by writing down something on a chart and then you’re right next to his incubator. First, all you can see is a mountain of swaddled blankets with tubes and wires sticking out from every direction. Then you see slight movement and you lean forward and come face to face with your baby.

Tears are rolling down your cheeks as you stare at him. He looks like he could just barely fit in your palms, you see the quick flutter of his heart through his thin chest that has wired tape. You press your hands to the reinforced plastic, the warmth from the light radiates through the gloves.

“Hi, my baby boy, I’m your mama,” you whisper and you’re aching to touch him. You see the two round openings for hands and you move your hands before looking to Dr. Wilson.

“You can touch him, let him know you’re here,” she encourages.

Very carefully, you insert your arm stretching your finger to his small body. You press against his cheek as lightly as you can, he’s warm and that makes you feel better.

“Hi sweetheart,” you continue to talk to him and you hear Luke sniff behind you. “You’re doing so well. Keep it up so you can get big and strong and we can take you home to your big sisters. Your daddy’s here, too.”

Dr. Wilson moves and Luke takes her place. He puts his arm through the opening and strokes his finger down your son’s arm. Your baby trembles a little then leans into your touches. You can’t help the wet smile from forming, he’s perfect. You rub at his forehead gently.

“We need to name him,” you say looking across globe of your son’s new home.

“I haven’t…do you have a name?”

“One popped in my head just now.”

“What is it?”

“Oliver,” you smile glancing down at him. “I was searching through names online and this one stuck out at me. It has a lot of meanings like peace, wisdom, health, and luck.”

“I think it’s perfect,” Luke smiles. “I know he’s only 24 hours old, but he seems very wise to me, don’t you think?”

“Wise and healthy.”

Tension has been high between you and Luke. You were at the hospital for a week and a few days more because you had contracted an infection at your incision site. It’s pretty common for an infection but that meant you couldn’t go visit Oliver. Once your infection was cleared you were discharged to go home.

You and Luke moved around each other like orbits just passing by. When you wake in the morning you move about the room like robots, barely looking at each other until you’re ready to go. Cory, Ashton, and the others stayed with Lily and Posy during the day while the both of you went to the hospital to visit Oliver. You missed Lily and Posy terribly and only saw them when they were fast asleep by the time you got home.

You’d even forgotten about Posy’s birthday and it made you feel even worse than you already felt. Your hormones are abnormal and your body still feels like it’s pregnant even though you know you’re not. It’s a weird feeling, it’s a sad feeling because you can’t even hold your baby that is no longer inside your stomach.

To your surprise, Ashton and KayKay had orchestrated Posy’s birthday for you and Luke.

“We have to put on a happy face for Po,” Luke says softly on the morning of her birthday.

Your bodies are set to an automatic alarm because of the hospital visits. You’re staring at the ceiling then roll over to face Luke who is also facing the ceiling with his hands behind his head. You take in his profile, the sharp angle of his nose, his full beard and the smooth skin of his arms over lean muscles. It’s been so long since you’ve touched each other.

Does he miss you too?

“I’m trying to,” you whisper and silently beg him to look at you. To kiss you. To hold you. To tell you that everything is going to be all right.

Instead, he sighs then rolls out of bed. You watch the muscles in his back pull and tighten when he puts on a t-shirt and heads into the bathroom. You flick your eyes back to the ceiling, swiping away the tears that fall anyway. You’re only allowing yourself those two tears because you know you won’t stop once you start.

Luke can’t see you break. Lily and Posy can’t see you break.

“Ash said he and KayKay will be here at ten to start decorating. I want to make the girls breakfast, hopefully make up for lost time,” Luke announces out of the bathroom.

“Good idea,” you nod then will yourself out of bed. You force yourself to not touch your belly, but like every morning, you always do. It’s still a little swollen from the pregnancy and the incision, but you know it’s empty.

Before you grab your satin robe, you glance at Luke who had his eyes fixed on your hands over your belly. He meets your eyes for a moment, looks like he’s about to say something, but he leaves the room.

You’re tired of feeling broken and empty.

The girls were ecstatic waking up to you and Luke. Posy was situated on Luke’s hip as he made her favorite breakfast and Lily filled you in on what’s going on at school and with Roman. She talked until Ashton and KayKay arrived and your heart had sunk all the way to your stomach because of how much you’ve missed in Lily and Posy’s life the last few weeks.

You helped where you could with the decorations and then you remembered Posy wanted a dinosaur cake but before you could panic, Cory and Ella arrived with the cake.

You tried to keep on a brave face throughout the party. You helped Posy open her presents, you talked with your friends and family. You couldn’t help the way your eyes gravitated towards Ella who is about 35 weeks along now.

It’s another reminder that you aren’t pregnant and that your baby is in critical condition. You shake it off because you have to. Your phone sends you updates on Oliver by the hour, and he’s remained stable for the whole day which is improvement.

“Thank you so much for doing all of this,” you tell Ashton and KayKay as they’re leaving. Aside from Cory and Ella, they’re the last to leave.

“No problem at all,” Ashton smiles pulling you in for a hug. He kisses the top of your head. “We’re more than happy to help. We’ll plan another one when our boy Oliver is home.”

“We’re all here for you, love you,” KayKay smiles and wraps you in her arms.

“We love you, too.”

“Unca Ash bye-bye?” Posy asks next to you. She looks up at Ashton with big puppy eyes, her arms up.

“Yeah, little one. We need to go to bed, just like you!” he lifts her in his arms and blows raspberry kisses on her cheek. “Did you have fun at your party?”

“Yeah!” she claps her hands.

“Good! Now, you go to bed like mama says and we’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Otay.”

“Love you.”

“Luh you,” she sings and hugs his neck while KayKay takes her hand and kisses her fingers.

“Let’s go to bed, Pose,” you take her from Ashton then wave one last time as they head out the door.

“I’ll be outside, babe. My feet are killing me,” Ella tells Cory then she moves to you with Lily’s hand in hers. “We’ll be here bright and early so you can go see how Oliver’s doing.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry we’re--”

“You have nothing to apologize for. It’s what families do. Try and get some sleep tonight,” Ella touches your arm, her face turns into a frown. “You look exhausted.”

“I’ll try.”

You know you won’t.

She kisses Posy and gives Lily one more hug then waddles outside to the car. Cory and Luke are cleaning up last call cups and you take your girls to their rooms to do their bedtime routine. You try and keep Posy in your arms as long as you can, hugging her and loving on her.

She doesn’t even make it halfway through her favorite book, Where the Wild Things Are, and then you take Lily into her room.

“When can I see my brother?” she asks as you tuck her in.

“I don’t know yet, sweetheart,” you reply sadly, “he needs to get better first. Dada and I talk about you and Posy all the time to him.”

“You do?” her eyes widen in amazement. “Can I bring him a present?”

“I think he’d like that very much.”

“Mama?”

“Hm?” you tuck her snuffy and bunny next to her under the covers.

“I missed you,” she says quietly.

Your heart jolts. You stop fixing up her toys and look down at Lily, your first baby, and she’s playing with the ear of her bunny. The pink bunny she’s had since she first met Luke.

“I miss you, too. I’m so sorry we haven’t been here with you and Posy. Dada and I are going to fix that, okay?” you ask and she nods. You lean down to give her a kiss and a hug, her arms tighten around your neck.

You don’t let go until she does. You shut off her light and close the door, with just a small crack left open. You’re going to talk to Luke, you’ve decided as you head back downstairs. You tried having just one of you go to the hospital while the other stayed home with the girls but neither one of you wanted to be away if Oliver’s health took a turn.

Just as you’re about to enter the kitchen, you hear your name between Luke and Cory.

“Y/N’s in bad shape,” Cory says.

“Yeah, I know.”

“This has happened before, where she shuts down and tries to fix it herself but she can’t.”

“I know that, too, considering she’s my wife.” Luke’s voice is clipped, each word sharp as a knife. You’re shocked at it; he and Cory have always been on good terms with each other.

“Have you tried talking to her about it? Because the way you two were acting tonight was like you didn’t even want to be near each other. She doesn’t need that, not right now when--”

“Look, I know you and Y/N have a close bond. It’s something I’ve tried to understand but I can’t and there’s nothing I can do to change that. It doesn’t bother me as much as it did in the beginning, but I don’t need your advice on how to help my wife.”

What did he mean ‘in the beginning’?

“Yeah? You had no problem taking my help when you broke up with her those three months,” Cory’s voice now has more of an edge to it.

“I’m surprised you helped in the first place. You think I didn’t notice how you looked at her? We’re handling this on our own.”

“You’re not handling anything! Neither of you are! Yeah, I care about Y/N, that won’t ever change and she’s hurting. Bad. If you won’t do something about it, then I will.”

“The hell you will. I appreciate all you’ve done for my family, but you’re crossing a line.”

“Stop.”

You whisper the word as you stand in front of them but it catches their attention. Luke’s hands are balled into fists at his sides and Cory’s body is in a similar defense stance. They look to you.

“I am trying, okay? I’m trying to stay strong and hopeful for Oliver. I’m trying to keep on a brave face for Lily and Posy. I’m trying to decipher which feelings I should be feeling or which ones are still phantom pregnancy ones and I don’t even know if those are real. My body has already fallen apart, I don’t need my family to as well.”

“Y/N.”

“I feel horrible that I forgot Posy’s birthday. How could I forget that? My mind is constantly running and I’m so exhausted but I can’t sleep because I’m worrying. Please don’t fight, I can’t handle it.”

“Y/N... what can I do?” Cory asks almost pleadingly.

Luke scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“I think you should go home. I know you mean well, Cory, but you don’t want to keep Ella waiting in the car.”

“I can--”

“Just go, Cory,” you say in a softer tone. You glance to Luke who is pointedly staring at a spot on the wall then look back to Cory. “Luke and I need to talk.”

Cory keeps staring at you as if checking that you really want him to leave. You nod. He sighs.

“I’m sorry, you’re right,” he steps away from Luke then grabs your hand. “Call if you need anything.” He gives you a squeeze as you nod at his offer.

The door closes with a soft snap and it’s just you and Luke now, all of your demons joined together.

“What did you mean when you said, ‘it didn’t bother you like in the beginning’?”

“I can’t talk about this now,” he shakes his head and shuffles towards the basement door where his music room is.

Good. It’s soundproof and if there will be yelling, it won’t wake the girls. You follow him downstairs.

“We are going to talk about this now. I feel like I’m walking on eggshells with you and I don’t know what to do! We don’t talk about Oliver, so let’s talk about you and Cory!” you follow him until he turns around quickly. His eyes ablaze.

“No, let’s talk about you and Cory. You’re only talking to him about Oliver. You called him right after everything happened.”

“Because he had Lily! You called everyone else!”

“None of them are in love with you!”

“WHAT?! That doesn’t even make sense!”

“When we started dating, I had a feeling Cory still loved you. I saw it in the way he looked at you and he’s been looking at you that same way now. You don’t talk to me about Oliver, you talk to him. How do you think that makes me feel? Oliver is our son.”

“I try to talk to you! But you always pull away! He doesn’t love me like you think he does, and the fact you’re bringing this up now, years later, is ridiculous.”

“Right,” he snorts, “it’s ridiculous that the ex of my wife who is the father of her child still loves you.”

“Yes!” you screech and fist your hands in the air in frustration. “Do you even hear yourself? He’s engaged to Ella. He’s having a baby with Ella!”

“Then why do you talk to him about Oliver and not me? Huh?” he advances towards you, towering over you.

“Because I blame myself every day that this happened and you do, too. You can’t even look at me and I…” you choke on your words; Luke’s hardened expression softens as your words sink in. “I feel like I’m losing you.”

Then you’re gasping for air as the tears you’ve been bottling up come crashing down. Your weird emotions, your worry, your fear, everything you’ve been feeling finally falls out in the open. It crashes between you and Luke like a tidal wave. Your body feels weak and you almost collapse onto the small couch but Luke grabs hold of your waist, his other hand cupping your face.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey. Look at me, look at me,” he rushes out. “I don’t blame you; I could never blame you. This isn’t your fault; do you hear me?” his eyes have a half-crazed look in them and somehow that grounds you.

“W-why wo-won’t you l-l-look at m-me?” you sob coughing out the words.

“Oh, baby,” he sighs then awkwardly shifts around until you fall on top of him on the couch. He holds you tight against him. You’re immediate to wrap yourself around him like a pretzel “It’s because I don’t know what to say. I wish I could make this all better, make Oliver healthy, take all your pain away. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through right now and it kills me to see you like this.”

“I’m a horrible mom,” you cry harshly into his chest.

Luke pushes you off of him and he’s blurred through your tears.

“Don’t you ever say that again. You give everything and a million times more in love to our children. I see how hard you’re trying to keep it together, and it kills me.”

“I’m s--”

Luke mashes his lips to yours and you close your eyes. It’s wet and salty, it tastes of heartache and regret and yet his kiss feels like home.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he mumbles. “Stop--” he kisses you again “--just stop--” he kisses you once more with his fingers tangling in your hair.

You wanted to be closer to him, feel every part of him touch every part of you but you aren’t past the six weeks mark yet.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you, too. Let’s take a warm shower and talk things out.”

After a warm shower of kisses and roaming hands, you snuggled against Luke in your bed and tried to come up with a plan where you could be home and at the hospital equally. And you both decided that as soon as Dr. Wilson gives the okay, you’re going to bring the girls to meet him.

When you’ve talked and finalized plans, you gaze at Luke as his eyes start to close. You stroke the slope of his nose, itching to ask him about the fight he had with Cory earlier. You open your mouth to ask and then close it just as quickly. Luke’s eyes open up and he pulls you against him, his fingers tickle the skin of your back.

“I know you want to ask, so ask.”

“Why do you think Cory is still in love with me?”

He sighs heavily.

“I don’t. I guess I went back to old thoughts and insecurities.”

“So, you thought he still was at one point?”

“I knew he was because he told me. When we weren’t together those three months, he came by and told me how you and Lily were doing. The way he looked at you...it’s how I look at you. And when he tried to help us tonight…” he closes his eyes and shakes his head in embarrassment. “I was stupid. I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

“I’m sorry you’ve been feeling this way for so long,” you caress his bearded cheek.

“I honestly don’t think about it anymore, it just sprung up in my mind tonight,” he sighs. “I appreciate everything Cory’s been doing. I’ll call him tomorrow and apologize.”

“You know how much I love you?” your fingers brush his damp curls from his forehead that you press your lips too. You breathe in his shampoo, his skin soft and his own fingers slip under your shirt to keep caressing your back.

“About as much as I love you.”

He kisses your chin as you kiss his cheek and eventually your lips find each other.

It’s been a month and Oliver is still in the hospital. He’s progressing well and getting stronger every day. Posy and Lily were able to come visit him with Michael and Calum in tow. Posy ran to Luke who he picked up and peppered kisses to her cheeks and Lily ran to you with a little gift bag in her hands.

“What’s this?” you ask her as Luke points Oliver out to Posy, Calum, and Michael.

“Unca Mikey said this will help Oliver feel better,” Lily pulls out a small green octopus.

“I read online that it helps them feel comforted if they can’t be held yet,” Michael explains and you give him a smile.

“Can we give it to him mama?” Lily asks setting the bag on the floor.

“I think that’s a great idea,” you kiss her cheek then stand. “Let’s head inside.”

When you’re all gathered around Oliver, Calum lifts Lily in his arms so she can see him from up above and you slip the little octopus inside the round hole. You press it under his arm delicately, his tiny, tiny fingers latch on to one of the tentacles.

“Baby!” Posy points.

“He likes it!” Lily exclaims and Calum grins at her.

“Of course, he does, it’s from you and Po,” Calum says.

“And me,” Michael grumbles stepping a little closer to the incubator. His eyes soften when he looks over his nephew and you can almost sense his sadness.

“Thank you for getting it for him,” you link your arm through his and rest your head against his shoulder. “It was very thoughtful.”

“How long do you think it will be until you can bring him home?” Michael asks watching his tiny chest flutter with each breath.

“Until he’s at a healthy weight and can be taken off the ventilator,” Luke answers.

“Is he going to sleep with me?” Lily asks.

You and Luke share a look. You hadn’t thought about that. Before all of this happened, you still had a lot of time before you got his nursery ready. There is the playroom you could transform into a nursery…

“No, he’ll have his own room, sweets. When he’s home he might cry a lot and wake you up at night.”

“That’s okay. I can help.”

“You’re the best big sister ever, you know that?” Calum looks to her and she smiles sheepishly.

“Would Crystal help us change the playroom into a nursery?” you ask Michael.

“Definitely.”

“I think we should tell them his middle name,” Luke smiles at you.

“What is it?” Calum asks.

“Well, we decided on Michael,” you grin at Michael whose eyes widen. “You jump started us trying for another baby and when we decided on it Oliver sneezed. So, he likes it and it fits him perfectly.”

“Oliver Michael…” Calum tests it out then nods. “Yeah, sounds good to me. If you guys have another one, Calum’s a pretty kick ass name.”

“That means a lot guys, thank you,” Michael shifts his arm so he can pull you in for a hug. He kisses the top of your head.

A few weeks later, Ella had her beautiful baby girl, Violetta. You wanted to give them some time alone before bringing the girls over to their house to meet her. Lily sat on the couch with Violetta resting on a pillow on her lap and Posy sat next to her, staring at Violetta with curious eyes. It was odd to see the size difference between her and Oliver.

“She’s beautiful,” you tell Ella. She just took a photo of the three girls together.

“Thank you. I can’t believe she’s finally here,” she sighs tiredly then glances to Luke and Cory who are talking outside. “Cory told me what happened after Posy’s birthday.”

“Oh,” you clear your throat awkwardly, “he did, did he?”

“I know you two have a special bond, you have a history and Lily…I’m sorry that things escalated like that. How’s Luke?”

“He’s okay now, we talked about it. Ella, I hope you know that I don’t love Cory how I love Luke.”

“Oh, I know! We’re all a big, blended family, sometimes things get messy but I’ve never had a big family before. I adore you and Luke. I’m not upset at all, I understand.”

“Good. We adore you, too,” you smile then gaze at Violetta. You see more of Ella in her than Cory but she also resembles Lily a little.

“Would you like to hold her?” Ella asks gently.

“I’d love to,” you smile then push her back in her seat. “Rest, I bet you’re still sore. Lily, I’m going to hold your new sister now, okay? Why don’t you and Posy go play for a little bit.”

You lift Violetta off of Lily’s lap and the two girls run into Lily’s room. Violetta rests comfortably in the crook of your arm, she sleeps peacefully as you sway from side to side.

“Hi, pretty girl,” you coo. “You are such a pretty little one, aren’t you? Yeah, you get that from your mommy.”

“How’s Oliver doing?”

“Better, they’re talking about taking him off the ventilator soon and see how he does. He’s gaining more weight, not as fast as they want but it’s something,” you smile.

“Good, I’m glad to hear that. And you and Luke?”

“We’re…coping. We’re still trying to find the balance between the hospital and home, but now that Lily’s out of school it’s much easier to come and go.”

“If you and Luke ever want to take a long weekend, the girls can stay here.”

“Oh, no, not with Violetta just being born! I don’t want you to feel overwhelmed—”

“I insist. It will give me practice if we have more kids,” Ella smiles.

“We’ll be outnumbered then,” you laugh. “The kid to adult ratio is even now.”

“You’re right,” Ella laughs. “They’re going to rule our world.”

“I don’t mind, they’re pretty awesome,” you shrug and gaze down at Violetta. You hope you’ll be able to hold Oliver like this soon.

Luke’s birthday is approaching and he’s told you repeatedly he doesn’t want a big party or anything this year. The only thing he wants is to hopefully bring Oliver home by the end of the month. You were finally able to hold him and have some skin-to-skin contact.

You sat in the rocking chair next to his incubator and the nurse placed him on your chest. His skin is warm and beneath the starchy hospital smell, he had that natural smell all babies have. You couldn’t help but cry after finally holding him after almost three months of just looking at him. His fingers flexed on your chest before you slipped your pinky between them. He held on tightly.

“Hi baby boy,” you whisper kissing the top of his little hat. “Remember me?”

“How does he feel?” Luke asks, his voice thick with emotion.

“He’s that piece I’ve been missing.”

You could sit there for hours just holding him but you know how badly Luke wanted to hold his son so you changed places. He unbuttoned his shirt and the nurse helped you place Oliver on his chest.

“He’s so small,” Luke smiles fondly. “Hi buddy, I’m your daddy. You’re doing so good getting all big and strong. Your mama and I can’t wait to take you home. We’re going to have a big party, but I promise I’ll make everyone keep it quiet.”

“It’s nice to see you holding him,” you sniff and he starts to rock.

“It was nice to see you hold him, too,” he smiles. “We’ll take him home soon. We’re almost there.”

On Luke’s birthday, you and the girls surprised him with breakfast in bed and a brand-new record collection he’s been talking about. Michael and Crystal offered to watch the girls while you visited Oliver. You promised you’d be back by dinner time and you secretly arranged Luke’s favorite food to be delivered.

The two of you sat with Oliver and talked about how far he’s come along. He’s at four pounds already and is now in an open crib rather than an incubator. His organs have developed how they should and he’s had no complications. Dr. Chambers wants him to stay until he’s five pounds just to be sure he’s still gaining weight like he should.

The nurse told you you could try and start breast feeding him soon.

With multiple kisses to Oliver, you left him for the night to continue Luke’s birthday at home. Michael told you the girls wanted to bake a cake and he sent you photos and videos of the whole experience. You couldn’t wait to surprise Luke with the meal.

When you got home you noticed Michael’s car was gone and the house was quiet. There was a big balloon on the kitchen table next to the delivery bag of Luke’s favorite restaurant and the cake the girls made along with a note.

“’Our birthday gift to you is two things: a night alone and a new room. Enjoy your birthday! Love Michael and Crystal,’” Luke reads off from a note. He turns to you with a lopsided smile.

“A new room? What does that mean?” you examine the note.

“It better not be some kinky sex room,” Luke mutters and you nudge him in the shoulder. “Let’s go explore.”

He takes you by the hand and you make your way upstairs to the bedrooms. The light of the playroom is on so you turn in there and gasp. It’s been transformed into Oliver’s room. There’s a beautiful white crib filled with small stuffed animals and a dinosaur blanket. His name is above his crib in block letters and there’s a bookshelf with some trinkets and books.

You page through them and see each one was given to you by your friends with a little message written inside for Oliver. You can’t wait to have Oliver in here, safe and warm.

“I have a feeling Michael is going to spoil Oliver.”

“Probably,” you giggle and turn to face him. He’s looking at the other shelf that holds some clothes and blankets.

His shoulders are broad in his simple black shirt, his curls have gotten curlier because he’s let his hair grow out along with his beard. Your stomach flips as a dirty thought of feeling his beard on the inside of your thighs enters your mind. How’d you get so lucky to have this strong, handsome, talented, kind man to be your husband?

“They’re spoiling us too, you know,” you step closer to him tickling your fingers up and down his arm. He looks down at you. “We have the whole house to ourselves birthday man. What do you want to do first?”

“I’d love to do you.”

You’re both careful as you get reacquainted with each other’s bodies. He removes your clothes carefully and you fall onto your bed, arms stretched out for him. You watch him with hungry eyes as he removes his own clothes then climbs over you. Before he can kiss you, you press your palms against his chest and stomach, feeling his heartbeat and warmth of his body.

“I’ll never get over you like this,” you sigh leaning up to kiss his collarbone.

“I’ll never get over you like this,” he repeats and pushes you back. He falls with you, pulling deep kisses from you before leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your body. He makes sure to kiss at the scar from your C-section. “So beautiful. Every inch of you.”

“Have I told you how much I love your beard?” you ask scratching your nails through the soft hair. “It’s very sexy.”

“Yeah? I don’t look like a lumberjack?”

“You’d make a sexy lumberjack. I wouldn’t complain.”

Soft loving words are exchanged along with wandering hands as he works you up. When you finally connect, you sigh and squeeze your nails into his shoulders. His thrusts are shallow and controlled making sure not to hurt you but also wanting to make this reconnection last.

“Feels so good to be in you again,” he mumbles in your neck. You glide your hands down his back and to the globes of his ass, you give a squeeze and try to make him move faster. “Missed you.”

“Missed you, too,” you sigh turning your head and your tongues connect.

It’s gentle and intimate and your orgasm is slow building but when it washes over you, you’re left in a warmth that you’ve been craving. It’s a warmth only Luke can provide, it’s his love and your love coming together.

Afterwards, you heat up the food and eat it in bed along with the cake. Being cheeky, you swipe the frosting on your finger and drag it onto his stomach.

“Who’s gonna clean that up?”

“Mmm, me,” you straddle his thighs, the shirt of his you wear to bed rides up and you press your hands onto his waist. You lean down and lick the frosting up with your tongue, he sighs heavily beneath you as you lick some more.

When he’s finally clean, your fingers slip beneath the waistband of his boxers continuing your kisses to his half hard cock. You swipe your tongue over his shaft, circling it around his tip and he springs to life.

“Lovie…” he groans.

“Shh,” you hush glancing up at him. His chest is heaving as you take him in your mouth. He groans again, his fingers tangling in your hair but letting you move as you see fit.

You love pleasuring him this way and it’s been so long since you have. You bob up and down, your spit dribbling down his shaft. He moans with each pull of your mouth, his hips rising to meet your motions. You feel his thighs clench so you know he’s close.

“Y/N…baby…lovie,” he pulls you off him then drags you up to him. “Wanna make you come again.”

He pushes himself inside you and you let out a loud moan as you sink down onto him. You start to move but Luke grips the sides of your ass and fucks up into you. Your mouth falls open at the pace, his balls slap your ass and your toes start to curl.

You’re chanting ‘yes’ and his name, the words tumbling over one another and you’re coming again. With a small scream you feel Luke pull out as his release is expelled between you. You’re pulsating and his fingers twiddle with your clit so you’re still coming together.

When you’re both finished, your breathing is hard and you giggle when you open your eyes. His cheeks are a little pink and he has this glazed over expression on his face.

“I think we should go clean up, hm?” his fingers tickle your thigh and you tremble at his touch. You nod.

You used a washcloth to clean up leftover frosting and his orgasm. Luke kisses your neck and your shoulders before he moves to the large tub and turns the taps. When the tub is full of bubbles and the jets are on, he holds you in his arms. The records you bought playing softly in the background.

“This reminds me of when we first started dating,” you say playing with his fingers. “We couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”

“If I had my way I’d want to do this all the time with you,” he chuckles in your ear before nibbling on the lobe. “But we have other responsibilities.”

“We’ll be able to bring Oliver home soon, right?”

“Of course, we will. This is just temporary until he’s five pounds. You’re going to be able to breastfeed and he’ll gain that one pound so fast.” He kisses your temple next and you sit in silence for a while.

“Did you imagine any of this happening when you met me at the coffee shop?”

“No, but I wouldn’t want my life any other way. You’ve filled my life with so much adventure and love. I never pictured myself with three kids, but I couldn’t imagine my life without them, or you. Did you imagine our life like this?”

“No,” you smile against his arm and kiss it. “But it’s the best. I’m thankful Oliver has come along this far, and Posy is our rambunctious girl and Lily is starting to become her own person now. It’s all happening so fast but with you beside me…I don’t have enough words to describe it. You’re the love of my life.”

“And you’re the love of mine,” he collects you in his arms. “We’ll bring our boy home soon.”

On August first, you were told you could bring Oliver home. You couldn’t even believe it but when Oliver’s NICU team and Dr. Chambers and Dr. Wilson showed up with balloons and a farewell card you started to cry. You hugged and thanked them all from the bottom of your heart and promised to keep in touch.

Oliver would need frequent doctor visits until he was about three to check his prognosis but you were so happy to bring him home finally. Luke called everyone while you got Oliver settled in his carrier, you made sure to put his octopus next to him. You sat in back with him while Luke drove, you couldn’t stop looking at Oliver. He’s grown so much and he’s healthy and strong.

You notice all of the cars parked along the street and you’re welcomed with your family as you and Luke enter your home. There’s a banner above welcoming Oliver home finally. You appreciated them all keeping their distance and not overcrowding Oliver, but you were happy they were all there to welcome your sone home.

Lily and Posy couldn’t stop looking at him in his carrier while he slept and Posy kept bringing some toys to show him. Everyone stayed for another hour and then you had to feed Oliver. He squirmed and cried because you woke him but you were on a tight feeding schedule so he would stay on track. Lily and Posy watched curiously as you breastfed. Luke watched fondly and then he told the girls their lunch was ready.

All four of you stayed around Oliver until it was time for him to go to bed—then you’d be feeding him in a few hours. Posy and Lily snuggled with you and Luke on the couch as you all watched a movie, their giggles at the animations jokes filled your heart with joy. Luke reached over and took your hand so he could kiss it, mumbling an ‘I love you.’

You were finally a family of five, home and safe.

***

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yesttoheaven · 3 years

Text

AMOR FATI

pairing – neil x female!reader

wc – 3.8k

warnings – mention of death, self-blame, anxious/intrusive thoughts, questioning reality, refusal of help, guns, stalking, but I swear there's a light at the end of the tunnel haha

a/n – The last time I suffered so hard for the death of a character, was when Newt died (Maze Runner) and now Neil has captured all my attention and his death has hit me in the same way 😩 I needed a happy ending so I decided to write this!

The Eternal Return and Amor Fati mentioned in this fic are one of the main ideas of Nietzsche's philosophy.

English is not my first language. I am getting help from google translator and he is not always a good ally, so I apologize for any typos or grammar errors.

Y/N – your name

She approached the painting hanging on the wall, watching the details closely. Ouroboros. A serpent eating its own tail. Months ago, when Y/N was visiting an antique store in Mumbai, she saw that same symbol. The owner of the establishment approached when she realized her interest in the piece and explained that Ouroboros represents the ideas of movement, continuity and, in consequence, Eternal Return. A concept that the universe and all existence and energy has been recurring, and will continue to recur, in a self-similar form an infinite number of times across infinite time or space.

"Max finally fell asleep." Kat returned to the living room, attracting Y/N's attention.

She walked away from the painting, taking back her seat on the sofa and asked:

"How is he after everything that happened?"

For a moment, Kat looked at the painting on the wall and then at the friend she won in the midst of confusion over the Algorithm. At that time, despite being fighting on the front lines to prevent a possible Third World War, Y/N seems complete. Happy. Today that happiness no longer exists in her eyes.

Letting out a sigh, the woman sat next to her, answering:

"Sator was never a present father. He was always busy... now i can see the kind of work he was involved in. Anyway, Max just got used to his absence."

"It's notable that he's happier at your side. When we first met Max was a bit of an introvert, but today he is radiant." Y/N confessed, showing a small smile and the blonde shook her head, agreeing with her words. "How's everything?"

"Perfectly well. It's weird sometimes... After years of being stuck in a failed relationship, freedom is good."

"It seems like life is good for one of us." The woman let out a bitter laugh, putting the latest events on a scale, but she didn’t want her friend to think she wasn’t happy for her. She really was. "I'm sorry, I just..." The words remain stuck in her throat, while she covers her face with her hands. In addition to physical and mental fatigue, Y/N tried to hide her grief.

Kat touched her shoulder, showing that she was here.

"I know you're hurt, but it's been three months and you never talked about what happened that day... This is not good for you."

"What do I have to say, Kat? The guy I fell in love with was a fucking time traveler! And now he's dead and I don't know what to do. My life just... stopped without him."

"I can imagine how difficult it's for you to cross that line without Neil at your side, but giving up is not an option. Grief is consuming you little by little and you are just accepting it..."

"We are trained to contain our emotions and deal with death in the best possible way. It used to be easy for me, but then he came and turned my life upside down." Y/N put her hands on her knees and stood up, walking without an exact destination. "Neil was always one step ahead of us all..." She stepped forward too and found the painting again, but her mind was lost in thoughts about him. Neil knew her so well. And he had a charming smile, but completely arrogant at the same time. "I was sent to Mumbai to help two agents and when I arrived at Priya's penthouse that night, there he was. When he saw me, that was the first and only time that he let his guard down. I'll never forget how he looked at me, it was one of those breathtaking moments... Completely cliché, I know."

On the sofa, Kat was impressed. When Y/N turned towards her, there was a bright smile on her face. The simple memory brought her a breath of happiness and Kat enjoyed seeing her friend like that, but unfortunately that moment did not last long. Memories aren't enough. Neil is dead and nothing can change that.

"I miss him so much, Kat." The smile disappeared as soon as tears appeared in her eyes, cascading down her cheeks.

"My dear..." Worried about her, the woman got up quickly and approached Y/N, wrapping her in a tight hug. "I'm really sorry."

"I spent the last three months locked up in my a-apartment because I thought I could handle this situation on my own. At times I b-believed it was just a fever dream... Maybe I was losing my mind, but this is proof that everything was real." Through tears blurring her vision, she looked at the watch on her wrist, remembering that night.

Y/N was in a private cabin on the ship. The others were with Ives and Wheeler, going over the mission in search of any loose ends. A standard procedure. Y/N knew she should be with them, but she needed a moment alone to organize her thoughts. And that moment is now. The past few weeks had been a real mess. The inversion was difficult to explain and mainly to understand. She was used to field missions, but being an inverted soldier on the battlefield was not in her plans. Either way, she agreed to be a part of it and running away with biased assumptions was not going to help. Humanity depends on them.

Three knocking on the door caught Y/N's attention, but she remained silent, waiting for the person to give up and leave, but when it didn't, she just murmured 'Come in'.

"So, here you are." The man used a surprised tone of voice and closed the door behind him. "What will our superior think when he learns that you are running away from the briefing?"

She let out a laugh before answering in the same mood:

"Don't worry, I know this mission like the back of my hand. I just needed a moment."

"There's something wrong? Are you ok?" Neil spilled the questions quickly, visibly concerned for her.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Neil." Y/N smiled at him, but looked away just seconds later, confessing: "Maybe I'm a little surprised by the situation. I have spent years dealing with terrorists, but the inversion is really not my point."

"I'm not good with advice, but someone once said to me: Don't try to understand. Certain things in the world do not need an explanation."

"It's wise advice, but I'm a methodical person. Logic has always been my ally in missions."

"A methodical person, huh?" He asked with an arrogant smile playing on his lips and she just rolled her eyes. "I know how worried you were when Sator shot Kat, but we are using the inversion to save the world and you're one of the most brilliant agents I have ever seen. Everything will be fine."

"Are you praising me?"

"What's that? Can't I praise my partner's talent?" Neil pulled up a chair to sit across from her, crossing his arms.

"In that case, thank you. Remind me to put this on my resume." Those words made him laugh and that sound could easily be compared to music in her ears.

Touching her knee, Neil added:

"We are very confident with the mission. You don't need to worry."

"Are you sure?"

"I cannot say that unforeseen events do not happen, but we are prepared for that." Y/N knew he was right, but this mission is the biggest one so far. It's not about saving a country. It's about saving the entire world. This was arousing insecurities in her and it was like walking in a minefield. Ironically, she was familiar with this, but not in such catastrophic proportions. "I want you to have this." The man took his watch off his wrist and handed it to her.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" The question came out as a whisper from between her lips.

It didn't make sense. Why does everything in this conversation look like a farewell?

"We will be on opposite sides tomorrow, but i want you to know... I will always be with you, Y/N."

"I saw the way he looked at you... That's how I used to look at Sator before he became a monster in my life." Kat started, running a hand through Y/N's hair. "When I was lying on that stretcher and partially drugged with the medicines, I saw him beside you... watching you sleep. There was so much love in his eyes. Love for a lifetime, Y/N. So don't do this to yourself. The way he left hurt us all, but there was nothing you or any other agent could do to change what happened at Stalask-12. Neil saved the world. This gave us a second chance. You cannot give up now. This organization needs you. And keeping your mind busy at that moment is the first step towards a fresh start."

"N-No, I can't..." She broke the hug, shaking her head in denial. "I left the organization."

"What? Don't you work for Tenet anymore? But when we first met you told me that you can't imagine working in another area... And that this is your life's work."

"Being an agent is my life's work. I was in Yemen when Tenet found me and assigned me to this mission. My only job is to make this world a less hostile place, but the motto of this organization is not what I believe, Kat. What's happened's happened. Really? It doesn't work for me." Y/N ended the sentence with drops of anger in her voice and Kat did not say a single word.

Through the newspapers, Max's mother followed what was happening in Yemen over the years – a real endless war – and knowing that Y/N was in the middle of it, makes the situation unquestionable. People died in front of her eyes. Friends of the corporation. And then some time later, Tenet arrived with a fresh start, but in the end everything remained the same. She lost Neil. It is as if her life's work never had a happy ending because the world will never stop being a hostile place.

"He knows?" It was easy for Y/N to identify who she was talking about. The Protagonist. Or just TP.

"Here's another problem. I worked with him and indirectly worked for him at the same time! God, that man created this organization! And his name remains a mystery to us all!" She pinched the tip of her nose, feeling frustrated with all the secrets that haunt this organization. "And answering your question, yes, he knows, but he did not argue about it. I was a complete mess and he was not doing very well either... He stayed in my apartment for the first month, probably to make sure I didn't do anything stupid." And Y/N would be forever grateful for that. She likes him. Just as friends, of course. TP was a reserved man, but it was he who held her when everything was falling apart. "But we've had a fight. I blamed him for what happened at Stalask-12 and since then we haven't spoken anymore."

It was easy to see that they carried more pain than they could actually bear. Y/N lost her great love and the man lost his best friend. The situation just turned into a conflict between them and that was the result.

Realizing the sadness reflected in Y/N's eyes, Kat decided to change the subject of the conversation. Keeping that thought, she smiled and pointed to the painting on the wall. Maybe that could help.

"You seemed interested in this one."

"Oh yes, in my spare time I am a lover of art and its meanings. It is really attractive the way Ouroboros is connected to the Eternal Return..."

"And Amor Fati too." Kat completed, piquing Y/N's curiosity. This part was new to her. "It's impossible to affirm the Eternal Return without loving life. We need to learn that things happen as they do. Sometimes seemingly good. Sometimes seemingly bad. We don’t always get it our way... Unless we choose that whatever way it is, is our way. When we choose to Amor Fati, to love everything that happens, to love our fate, then we will always get it our way. Because the way it is, is the way it is. Unchangable. And therefore it must be good, even if it sucks."

These words touched Y/N's heart. This was a contradiction to what she is experiencing right now. Love your fate. She would like to understand and accept what happened, she really wanted, but why is it so difficult to move on?

Because Neil is dead.

That was the only explanation for her. The end of a relationship would be more acceptable. If he were alive, things would be completely different now. However, grief is overwhelming. How could she just accept what happened?

"I... I gotta go." That was all she managed to say before picking up her bag and leave the penthouse, ignoring Kat's protests.

When the elevator doors closed, an exhausted sigh left her mouth and the instant she saw her reflection in the mirror, Y/N wanted to cry again. After three months alone, she thought visiting her friend would be a good idea. Kat was willing to help, but the problem was that Y/N is not allowing herself to be helped. As soon as the doors opened, she left the metal box and found the hotel lobby partially empty. Her watch showed it was 3:13 AM, this explains the absence of people on the street as well. In front of her car, she searched the bag for the key and coincidentally her cell phone started to vibrate. Probably the text messages were from Kat, but confusion hit Y/N the instant she looked at the identifier and saw that the messages did not belong to any of her contacts.

Stay away from the car

They put a bomb

I'm on my way

Her first reaction was to take a few steps back and look around, trying to understand what’s going on and find the person responsible for these texts, but Y/N was alone in the dark street. When she thought it might be an unnecessary prank, a black SUV approached at high speed. The car stopped just a few meters away from where she was, but that was enough to make her body freeze.

"Y/N, come on!" The man exclaimed, the urgency in his voice would have made her run immediately, but she didn't move. Her feet had frozen on the floor. This cannot be real. "Come on, get in the car! We don't have much time!" He tried again, it was possible to hear the sound of the other cars approaching.

Y/N watched in slow motion the moment he left the car and ran towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"How is this possible?" She asked in a whisper, completely lost in his blue eyes.

"It's good to see you too." Neil admitted, feeling his heart race. She looked so fragile in his arms. Very different from the last time he saw her. "We have to go." He accompanied her to the car and as soon as Y/N took the passenger seat, he returned to his seat.

For her this moment was like a fever dream, so she just looked down and started counting her fingers. One, two, three, four, five... Neil noticed, but said nothing, just kept driving. The cars were fast approaching, but he would do everything possible and impossible to get Y/N away from these people.

"Give me your cell phone." He looked at her for a brief moment, but when Y/N didn’t react, he wasn't sure if she heard it, so he just took the phone from her hand and threw it out the window. That was enough to get her out of the numbness:

"What the fuck, Neil?!"

Despite the adrenaline rushing through his body, the man laughed.

"If I found you because of your cell phone, they can too." After that, he crossed the red light and made a risky turn, trying to end this chase. "Before you ask, no, this is not a dream. Unfortunately this is very real..." Neil didn't like what he saw when he adjusted the rearview mirror. "And now they are getting ready to shoot us."

That observation put Y/N on alert and she looked back, seeing a man with an AKS-74U and another with a Beretta M12.

"If you knew it wasn't a dream, why didn't you bring an armored car?" She ran her tongue between her lips, smiling at the man beside her. Neil tried to argue, but she just took off her seat belt and picked up the Glock 19 stuck in the vest he was wearing.

Y/N crawled out of the car and sat at the window opening. This encouraged the men in the two cars to start shooting, trying desperately to hit her. Neil shouted something that she couldn't understand and then she felt one of his hands on her thigh, giving her stability to continue with the plan. With her arm resting on the roof of the vehicle, Y/N aimed the gun at the car that was closest to them. Her intention was not to start a firefight in the middle of one of the main avenues in the city, but she had no other option. Holding her breath, she fired the first shot and the bullet hit the tire, taking the car out of circulation. Y/N celebrated while preparing for the second car, but dealing with this one was not an easy task. Now they were in a tunnel and, consequently, losing speed because of the other cars that came along the way. Neil left two pats on her leg, indicating that she had better get back in the car and that is what she did. Screams, honks and gunshots echoed through the tunnel, turning the place into a war zone. Whoever these men were, Y/N knew they weren't going to give up.

Tired of playing cat and mouse, she went to the back seat, getting on her knees. Through the broken glass above the trunk, Y/N adjusted the aim of her gun, ignoring the sniper and focusing on the driver. With another accurate shot, the bullet hit the man's chest and he lost control of the vehicle. The car overturned for a while, streaking the asphalt, but no other car was involved in the accident. Y/N sighed in relief and looked for another possible threat, just checking, but when she realized that the area was clean, she returned to the passenger seat, leaving the gun on the dashboard in front of her.

"Next time I'm going to get an armored car." Neil comments, stepping on the gas. "Nice shot, by the way."

"Anytime." Y/N smiled, trying to control her breathing.

With the adrenaline disappearing from her body, it was hard for her to believe that this was really happening. For many nights she cried, wondering what it would be like if Neil just came back to her, but now she was afraid to wake up and realize that it was just another vivid dream.

The sun was rising when they arrived in a shed away from the city. Seen from the outside, the place was a little scary, but the interior wasn't that bad. There was some equipment like trackers, walkie-talkie, bulletproof vests, weapons, ammunition; a table with a mess of papers and on the other side two beds and something that Y/N supposed to be a private bathroom.

"Where we are?"

We. That simple word echoed in her mind. Y/N thought that "we" didn't exist anymore.

"For now in a safe place. It's dangerous for you out there." He answered the question and took a bottle of water, handing it to her after taking a generous sip.

"Who are these people, Neil?" She wanted answers, lots of answers, and that frustrated the british spy because for the first time he didn't know what could happen.

Neil had a mission and that mission ended with him dying in Stalask-12, but after what TP did, everything changed.

"We have a name..." He wanted to say more, he wanted to reassure her, but that was all he had at the moment.

Y/N drank some water and left the bottle on the table, looking at some reports and photos. All photos were of the same man.

Lenard Vaher

"But apparently they don't just want you..."

It took a few seconds and when the realization hit Y/N, concern appeared on her face.

No, not him.

"Where's TP? He's safe, right?"

"He was going to see you when Lenard's men kidnapped him. This happened three weeks ago." And considering the anger in Neil's voice, finding TP was proving an almost impossible task, but in the midst of so much concern, one point attracted Y/N's attention.

"You said he was going to see me..."

"There was something he needed to tell you." Neil sighed, resting his hands on the table. A few strands of blond hair fell over his forehead, but he quickly shook his head back, as he always did. "He returned to Stalask-12, Y/N."

After that statement, the only sound that could be heard was Neil's footsteps closing the distance between them and the first thing she did was put her hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. Neil smiled. And that was not one of his famous smiles. That was a shy smile. His heart was beating like a drum and it was all because of her. Loving Y/N was something so special and pure, that Neil accepted his fate without a second thought. Saving the world, he was giving her a second chance to live, but now he is the one who received a second chance.

"I missed you every day." Before she could begin to consider the meaning behind his words, he settled his mouth upon hers, robbing her of thought.

She closed her eyes and melted against him, flattening her hands on his arms. Neil caught her bottom lip in his teeth, nibbling and licking at it until she thought she might perish from the intensity of the feeling. She whimpered at the sensation, and he rewarded the sound by deepening the kiss, giving her everything she desired. His tongue stroked hers, slow and insistent. A lush, decadent pleasure unfolded within them, snaking through their veins as though it had lain coiled in anticipation for years.

Just waiting for this moment.

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a/n – really hope you enjoy it and thank you soooo much for reading ;)

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