#ive been peer pressured into coming to a doctor

[hellcifrogs]

It wasn't funny a week ago, it's not funny now, can my lower back please give me a break 😭

[noxturnalmoth]

Chishiya Shuntarô x Reader: An eternity

This is a personal request from my wife @heart4kuina and I decided to write it with the song Are you lying to your therapist about being sober again? Yes. by Chrmng, in mind. This is an angst to comfort so be warned about dark themes.

I hope you like it my darling, love you.

This comes from personal feelings I used to have and still have at times so it's more than an educated guess on a lot of the stuff mentioned. Also, Chish might be a bit ooc, but you'll see ;)

Summary: When all hope is lost, an angel embraces the martyr.

Another day in this fucking hospital. I'm getting tired of sitting on my ass in this sterile room all day, looking out to a world that was never good to me. Never once was I offered comfort or kindness. My peers and family deemed me too different, difference scares the ignorant, the ones that do not want the status quo to change because it sways in their favor.

So I was the little black sheep.

And once I finally tried to go and explore, finally let go of that bitterness that I felt in my soul, that darkness suffocating my mind, that sadness binding my body; I was fucking wiped out by a meteorite with a few other hundred of people.

We're called the "scientific miracles" of the century and perhaps the millenia, the ones of us who are still alive to tell the tale at least. A lot of us died, but the few that survived came back to life after all of their bodily functions shut down for a minute. A whole entire minute.

Some are fine enough, they're going back to a normal enough life with a second chance in their back pocket.

But I honestly wish I died.

I lost a leg and an arm, went into septic shock and came back. But came back to what? An empty home, a loud silence from my kin, a cold loneliness from my lack of valuable friends? It sucked.

So I resorted to waiting in my room, doing nothing, getting lost in thought. Imagining a better world for myself because the one I lived in wasn't good to me. Those daydreams went further than what I could control, but it felt good. Not having to control something, letting go....it felt good. The same blurry man appeared in those dreams, his voice distant and muffled but still able to make my heart flutter.

He always seemed to have that glowing halo around his head. His words smug but his voice soft, calming.

And all I remember when I wake up is how his hand felt around mine, how warm it was.

....ss

.

.

.

.i....iss

.

.

.

........miss

......."Miss (y/l/n), are you alright?"

I jump at the feeling of being shaken from my dream induced stupor. That voice, it wasn't my nurse.

And as I turn around I see a blonde haired male in scrubs and a white coat, a white stethoscope around his neck. The pin on his jacket was telling me his name was..

"I am Chishiya Shuntarô, a pediatric surgeon. I know you might be shocked at not seeing your usual nurse but due to collapsing from exhaustion she has been sent home posthaste. This isn't my wing nor are you in my field of expertise but I'll take care of you from now on. Due to the immense influx of patients and the lack of medical personnel we have to make do."

I nod silently, going to wipe at tears that had fallen from my eyes unknowingly. And present my arm for a test of my blood pressure and a new catheter to be placed.

"I have heard you've been in the incident too. So have I but, I've been called early as the hospitals in Shibuya are in a pickle." He says as he places the IV fluid cable to the catheter and fastens it.

I hum sleepily. Could he go already? I didn't want people around, especially new people. I didn't want to socialize with a new doctor, no matter if we could relate together.

"I also understand you are in a heavy depressive episode, so I have been given the green light to make you do activities. You have been catatonic, not due to a medical state of being but a personal choice. That and your selective mutism could cause many problems in your daily life, so as a pediatric surgeon used to working with much weaker and sensitive patients, I have been given the choice to help or not, and let a psychiatrist do all the work if I chose the latter."

He explains as he checks my vitals and wheels in a meal and meds from outside the room which he immediately closes after. I shake, my right hand squeezing in panic.

"Luckily for you, I know that right now, a psychiatrist might not be what you need. So I'll stay. I'll give you my phone number and be on call 24/7, so do not hesitate. Whenever you need something, anything, or just a presence, I'll be a few minutes away."

And days passed. And weeks passed. He washed me, brushed my hair, brushed my teeth, wheelchaired me outside to get fresh air, fed me, talked to me, read books, listened to music while we shared earbuds, completed paperwork.

All, with me by his side like a burden that didn't seem to bother him in the slightest.

"Today I decided to cook for the both of us since it's Obon." He says, unloading his bag, filled with delicious smelling foods.

"You've been here two months already, your body has gotten much better but your mind....you are forcefully keeping yourself from healing. So I thought a celebration would help."

He pours me some tea as he organizes the table and I reach out for it, savoring the drink....savoring. It was...good. It felt...nice.

And warm.

"Why?"

He hums in surprise as he turns around, eyes wide open, eyebrows high on his forehead. My throat felt sore already but I continued.

"Why do you care so much?" My voice feeling and sounding like a gargle more than an ensemble of words.

He looks at me pensively then smiles sadly.

"Because I had locked myself out of feeling for years upon years. Because I know what you feel, at least I believe you do. You just...remind me of myself before I decided to get off my ass after that near death experience." He says setting himself down next to me on the bed, sipping on his miso soup.

"I just...I want to help, for real this time. I want to be someone good, someone worth knowing, someone worth being and living as."

And as I look at him, I swear I can see a halo around his blonde head. He turns to look at me with tired eyes and I look back at him with mine.

"I am not worth your work."

"Maybe not in your eyes, but you are in mine. If I let you go, I'll have failed myself and my creed as a medical practitionner. So let me help, let me help you so you can help yourself."

...It's strange, my mother and father didn't visit. But HE was always here. He...did he truly believe in me when no one else did?...

"I do, believe in you I mean. Look at yourself, uttering your deepest thought without realizing. Maybe it's time you let go of this state of being and switched it up. Your mind and body can only handle so much negativity (y/n)."

"I have no one to go back to."

"Well that's a lie."

I look at him inquisitively, my hand squeezing in anger at his words. What did he mean-

"I'm here after all." He scoffs, muttering something along the lines of 'that was fucking cliché, good job Shuntarô'. "Listen. You've been a real piece of work but look, you've talked so much today, for the first time in two months? That means I'm doing something right, and I won't stop until you realize how lucky you are and start enjoying life."

Ugh, I feel so sick all of a sudden. My face feels hot, my heart is palpitating, my nerves are going haywire am I-

"Awwwn. Did I fluster you? That's good, it's a new step forward!" He says as he ruffles my hair and starts packing up. "Before I go for the evening. I just want to give you an advice: let yourself live before it's too late and you realize what you've lost. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about." He sighs and finishes packing his bag, going towards the door. "Good night (y/n), sleep well."

And everyday he'd come, coax me into talking more, he'd play games with me. And I could swear that every second I spent with him from then on...

His halo glowed brighter.

He also seemed to change, cracking up jokes, laughing more.

I felt less alone as everything changed little by little.

"I'm sorry I am so long to heal. I wish it could be easier." I mutter looking at the rainy sky from the bedroom window.

"Well I don't."

I turn to him confused. What did he mean by that?

"It sounded mean, let me rephrase it. I don't wish it was easier, one because it would mean it's not as genuine and sloppy. Two, because I get to spend time with you."

I jump back slightly, eyebrows furrowed.

"What do you mean?"

"I feel....Human with you. I feel with you." He sighs, pondering his next words.

"I feel alive with you."

And as he turns to me I can see wings sprouting from his back, my eyes gleaming at his beauty as the weight on my back feels relieved.

"I see you in my dreams." I blurt out. "I was never sure but...Now I am."

I get closer to him.

"You shine so brightly, it has to be you."

And he smiles.

"It took you long enough." He holds my hand and it confirms it all.

He was the angel I dreamt about.

"I don't know how, but I know you. And when my collegue told me to care for you instead of her doing it. I was compelled to do it by an unknown force. Call me crazy, but...I, think we've known each other for longer than we think."

And I shake my head, I know what he means. And as I hold his hands, I can swear in the back of my mind everything unlocks.

So I throw myself in his embrace and cry. As she holds me and kisses my temple, I can hear him muttering words I swear I heard him say but not in my time with him awake.

"I've got you."

"I'm here."

"Don't worry (y/n), let it all go."

I don't know when I fell alseep after that, I imagine pretty quickly due to the emotional fatigue. And for once I don't feel cold as I awaken.

Because he's here, on the bed, with me, next to me. And I am in his arms as he is in mine. His gentle breaths caressing my face tell me he is still very much asleep as the moon outside is high up.

It felt like an eternity since I felt this...free? Happy? I don't know how to call it, but I...don't dislike it, at all. I, enjoy it.

And as my heavy eyes slowly bring me back to slumber, I feel Shuntarô's arms tighten around me.

"Well, you only have this paper to sign and you'll be free to go. It's great to see you back on your feet....er foot?"

The desk attending nurse trips on her words near the end of her sentence and I chuckle, dismissing it with a wave of the hand and a smile.

After that night, another two months were spent in the hospital with Chishiya by my side. Since the meteorite situation had calmed down and everything was semi back to normal, he was sent back to his hospital in Shinjuku, only visiting when he could. Our conversations were mostly video calls and texts between shifts.

But he still cared, no matter if he could see me much during his days off or not. And it made me feel lucky that this man, no,

this angel,

could still care so much about lil ole me. Physical therapy was hard. Getting used to both an arm and a leg prosthetic was hard. But I did it, for him, but also for myself. I'd get better, so I can help myself, so I can help him and repay him for all that he has done.

"It's fine, I've learnt to...take it all with humor. Don't feel the need to walk on eggshells with me."

The nurse giggles and nods. "And it's good to see that. You've done a good job, and you've come a long way! We're all proud of you at the hospital."

I smile, getting misty eyed at the kind words. The nurse proposes a handshake and I take it, hugging her after it and thanking her for her hard work on my, less than optimal case.

As I go out and walk across the expanse of the hospital court I reminisce about the last four months. They were hard but...With Chishiya by my side they weren't bad. Not at all even.

The heavy rain was finally stopping and the sun could be seen from behind the clearing clouds as birds chirped in the crisp autumn air.

"Hey (y/n)." He was there, waiting for me at the entrance, still in his scrubs, he probably ran towards here after his shift and didn't bother to change.

His hair was messy, his face red, and his eyes scrunched as he smiled brightly.

"Did you wait for long?" He shakes his head.

"Nah, just arrived, had enough time to take my breath back."

"You look like you ran."

"I did run. Like crazy I might add."

"I can see that." He wacks the back of my head and takes my hand.

"I wanted to welcome you back into life. Tell you I'm proud. And..."

He chokes a bit, his cheeks reddening to even his neck and upper chest as well as ears.

"I wanted to ask you on a date, right now, it's halloween and it's gonna be lively! It'll do you good, and you have me so don't worry!"

He stammers as he looks straight ahead, and it was my own time to blush, my hand gripping his tight as

"It almost sounds like a farewell party Shun. You ain't trying to get rid of me are you?" I elbow him in the ribs and he laughs.

As he turns towards me, a soft smile on his face, a rainbow appeared behind him due to the sun finally being freed from its confines. And his halo shined the brightest it ever had as his wings glowed from the last of the raindrops falling. The streets, covered in reddened leaves, made his white feathers, hair and coat look all the brighter as he utters the words that made me realize how far I had fallen for him.

"I'd never do that. The world can't keep me from you, not again. I'll stay an eternity or two with you if you'll allow me."

[quirklessidiot]

Drabble #6: big news :: Atsumu wonders why you’ve gone more quiet than usual. [slice of life/fluff  + coward au series]

Notes: i swear ive actually finished writing this all a few months ago but i haven't had the chance to post them im so sorry DJDJDN :(  Read the story here!

“Y/N’s gone quiet these days.” Atsumu confessed as he sat in the dimly-lit counter of his brother’s now-closed restaurant.

“Isn’t she always quiet though? Yer the noisy-”

“I meant more quiet.” Atsumu cuts his brother off, casting him a glare, “I’ve been racking my brains these past few days on what I did but I can’t seem to know what I did wrong exactly.”

“Maybe it’s because you burned down the Tupperware's last time.”

“That was two months ago and I bribed the kids to keep quiet about it as I replaced the Tupperware's too on the next day.” he retorts, leaning back on his chair as he started to think about what he did wrong.

“Maybe that's why she's angry. You bribed the two and destroyed the Tupperware's while you’re at it. Isn’t Y/N all for admitting mistakes and coming clean?” Osamu replies, rolling his eyes at his twin because of his stupidity.  It was fairly obvious who was the fun parent and who had to put the foot down in the relationship, he was actually glad that you were the head of the household. Imagine his horror if his twin was the head of the whole thing.

It would be a disaster.

Atsumu sinks lower on his chair as Osamu rolls his eyes, “Y/N wouldn’t be mad over the Tupperware thing, she’d be mad that ya guys bought a new oven and replaced the Tupperware's without telling her that you destroyed it.” his twin continues, giving his brother a little sermon, “So just come clean.”

The blonde setter comes home that night, kind of dejected. He knows you wouldn’t be mad about something as petty as a Tupperware but man, he should’ve told you-

“You look like I kicked you out of the room.”

Yeah, he might just be if he admitted that he got a new oven and the Tupperware.

“Hey, sweetheart. Where are the kids?”

“With Daiki, he’s leaving for the states tomorrow since the NBA season is about to start so he wants to spend his last night in japan before he gets back.”

Oh yeah, with no kids here, you’d definitely kick him out.

“Listen, I need to tell you-”

“I’m sorry I bought a new oven and Tupperware's and bribed the kids to keep quiet about it.” He confessed, cutting you off, a full pout on his lips, “Don’t kick me out of the bedroom.”

You blinked once then twice then silence slowly sank in the room, “I know but why do you look so sad about it?” 

Atsumu suddenly looks at you in the eye and tilts his head to the side, “Weren’t you mad because of that? You were awfully quiet about it these past few days and well, I thought you found out about it…”

“I did, the kids told me the next day.”

Atsumu’s mouth opens and close like a fish, those little gremlins-

“But that’s not why I got so quiet…” you blink, cutting his thoughts short, “I...well…”

Atsumu’s brows furrowed in wonder, then what was going on?

“I’m pregnant.”

Atsumu is silent and he notices your expression shift from blank to worry so he suddenly raises his arms up, making you jump in surprise at the rather weird reaction, “We’re pregnant?” he exclaims.

“I’m pregnant.”

“We’re pregnant!’ He yells, immediately enveloping you in a hug, “Oh my god, we’re pregnant!”

“Atsumu i-”

“I’m going to be an otosan again!’ He grins, letting you go, “From the beginning! An otosan from the beginning, Y/N! I get to be there! From the beginning!”

Your eyes feel a bit watery at his words, the reaction was far from what you expected, “Yeah, you get to be there...From the beginning…” you blink away the tears. 

It turns out, if it was even possible, Atsumu got more doting after your pregnancy. Not only did he turn doting, he got giddy and would proudly call out that he was soon to be a father of three, not two but three kids! He would parade around Osamu and call himself the supreme twin.

It was the total opposite though during the due date. The man wanted to be next to you but you advised the doctor that you’d rather be alone than have your husband faint next to you in the delivery room     yes, he was theatrical,     In the end, it was just the entire volleyball team from his high school days and current volleyball team with ‘Samu in the hospital.

Yes, very dramatic but then again, they were all awfully supportive.

“Miya-san?”

All the men stood up and the doctor looked at them in an odd manner judgingly, actually, “That would be me.” Atsumu coughs out, walking up to the doctor, trying to calm himself down. They didn’t know the gender of the baby yet. Bokuto and Osamu urged to keep it a surprise so Atsumu, being the guy who easily gave into peer pressure agreed and well, you sort of agreed too since it wouldn’t be a problem, right?

“Congratulations, Miya-san.” he exclaimed, “Your wife just gave birth to a healthy baby girl.”

Atsumu’s eyes widened comically as the whole men’s volleyball team (plus the small twins) rejoiced.

In a sea of men, a princess was born that day and good lord, was she spoiled rotten by everyone.

[mintseesaw]

love like that

Prompt: You fainted during your shift in the hospital. And Dr. Min, whom your colleagues have no clue of your relationship with, has to be the one to check up on you. Pairing: doctor!yoongi x doctor!reader Genre: fluff, fluff, lots of fluff, established relationship au, drabble Word count: 1.5k rating: pg-13 Warnings: reader’s disregard of own’s health, imposing of punishment, literal spoon feeding if it makes you cringe lol a/n: something light before I update aurora ;) wrote this in honor of my fave yoongi look so far which is pretty obv on the banner haha

As you come back to consciousness, your eyes flutter open, only to shut them close at the blinding hospital light pointed directly at your line of vision. The pristine white walls illuminating the ambience of the sickly familiar room only gave you a dizzy spell.

Still dazed with the remnants of being unconscious, you couldn’t seem to find the last bit of your memory and why you’re lying in a bed inside a familiar facility instead of being the one to check the patients up, yourself. With your eyes closed, you heard a familiar voice spoke, breaking the oddly cold silence, “You okay?” “Why am I here?” You manage to ask with your desert dry throat and a pounding head.

“You fainted.” Yoongi responds briefly. Right, you did! When and where did it happen, again?

”That doesn’t mean I have to be here. How long was I out?” “About 6-7 hours. Your blood pressure dropped, so is your blood sugar. You’re sleep deprived and you haven’t been eating?” He answers in his usual thickly low, professional tone. If you only cared to listen closely, you’d notice he sounded like a father scolding his child for skipping proper meals over sweet treats, than a caring boyfriend that he actually is. You also fail to see the way his forehead creases, him sporting a cute pout while he scolds you with his deadly, monotonous tone.

The nurse, who is on the other side of the bed currently administering a vial medication through your IV, didn’t miss the coldness seeping through Dr. Min’s voice as her thumb slowly pushes through the end of the syringe.

However, the proximity between the two doctors picques her curiosity. The terror senior cardiologist and the junior resident are physically too close to only be labeled as mere colleagues. On your second attempt, you squinted your hypersensitive eyes. Blurry sight steadily adjusts to the familiar figure. As your vision becomes clearer, you finally get to see your boyfriend, Dr. Min, clad in his usual knee length white coat. The undone buttons of the white fabric lets you have a glimpse of his inner dress shirt and the black pair of slacks his lean legs adorned.

Your eyes remain glued on him, not minding the faint sting of the thick liquid as it seeps through your veins from the back of your right hand. The intimidating, gorgeous doctor that you luckily call your boyfriend returns the same longing gaze.

Prior to your fainting spell, the last you’ve properly seen and talked him was two days ago, when he had arrived at the hospital which was only an hour left of your shift.

“I didn’t notice, I guess I was just... occupied?”

Unexpectedly, he flicks your forehead which stung more than the medicine flowing through your veins. “Idiot, you almost got yourself killed.”

“Yoongi!” You whimper in protest.

Yoongi crouches his upper body, dipping his head low to soothe the now reddish area on your forehead with the supple pair of his lips.

He would not want to go through that frightening moment, again. He had seen the worst of the worsts, but having to experience the same thing that his previous patients’ families had endured turns out to be his own nightmare.

Yoongi received a call from a junior resident several hours ago. Ironically, your colleague chose to call Dr. Min out of all the cardiologists in the hospital. The junior resident assumed your case isn’t just a mere fainting spell of fatigue.

He rushed his way to the hospital, furiously driving his car like a maniac. How could he not? When your colleague suggested to place you in ICU if your blood pressure continued to drop. With you remaining unconscious, medications and supplemental fluids had to be administered through your IV to help normalize your vital signs. Fortunately, your body has responded with the medications. “You should eat before I leave.” He murmurs, peppering your skin with his warm breaths.

You didn’t respond, having other intentions in your mind. Lightly tilting your head up, you hover his parted lips. From the looks of it, you two seemingly forgot you have other company inside the room. At the unexpected sweet display of affection, the nurse quietly gaped as you both became too outworldly with each other.

“Only if you’ll eat with me.” You propose. Then Yoongi draws back, pulling the retractable board up over the bed as a makeshift table. Swiftly, he places the tray there which carries the hospital prepped meal that includes porridge, soup and side dishes.

The flustered nurse cleared her throat, silently excusing herself to give privacy to the newly discovered love birds.

Yoongi darts his eyes to the female staff who refused to meet his gaze. Adjusting his heavily graded specs on the bridge of his nose, he takes the chair beside the hospital bed.

Having no sense of will to consume food, you unwillingly pull yourself up. Yoongi then hands you a water bottle, which you took in his hand and eagerly chugged down half of its content in no time. But then the unappetizing food in front of you makes you scrunch up your nose in disgust.

Peaking on your left to look for alternative food that is a little appetizing than the ones Yoongi served, you found nothing else. Other than his daily dose of caffeine. You had enough of it for the day, but you‘d rather have another one or anything else other than that meal.

“Can I have some of that?” “What,” Yoongi pauses, only to follow where your gaze has been directed. When he realizes what you were referring to, he sternly objects, “No, not until you’ve completely recovered.”

Pouting in defeat, you silently huffed, crossing your arms against your chest. You really have no full intent of eating the food, but when you meet Yoongi‘s warning peer, you’re forced to mimic his movement as he obtains a spoon.

Holding the silverware between your fingers, you silently watch him scoop a generous portion of porridge in his spoon, thinking he would eat the porridge himself. But he held it forward, near your lips. The slight arching of his eyebrow made you slowly part your own lips, as if he has this mythical power over your body.

I thought I asked him to eat with me? And not make me eat?! You silently complain.

Yoongi didn’t stop pestering you with the porridge, almost force feeding you with his deadly stare. Something that you didn’t want to mess with ever again. However, on the sixth spoon, you finally had the courage to push his arm away, not liking the way it is making your stomach oddly churns.

“You barely touched your soup.” He proceeds to scold you, coaxing you with another spoonful of porridge.

Whining, you shook your head. “No more,” Then you lean your back against the headboard to increase the proximity in between. “Can you release me now? I have to attend to my patients. What about the meeting with my team? Oh God, Professor Kim—”

“You are my patient, baby. You need to be closely monitored until tomorrow. Don’t worry about your shift for now, your superiors will understand.” “But do I have to be here alone for the next 24 hours?” You gloomily asked, sulking. Realizing there’s no way for him to stay with you here considering he has one of most hectic schedules among the senior residents. He chuckles softly, reaching out to smoothen your protruded lips with his thumb. Gone is the terror doctor from the cardiology department.

“I’m afraid so. I would stay here with you if I could. However, I have an operation in about fours hours’ time. But you’ll go home with me tomorrow so I can watch you over.” “Really?” Your eyes instantly light up, loving the idea of you and him sharing an apartment. You considered the thought before, however, you think it’s too soon for you two to live together. And you understand that Yoongi strangely craves the isolation, so you have not brought up the matter. Unless he asks you to. Technically, you’ll only stay with him for a couple of days.

Still, this is a progress. “Hmm. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He whispers, taking in the elation dancing in your eyes. He cups your cheek, thumb rubbing indefinite paths to the expanse of the soft muscle. “Which reminds me, you won’t be spared with forgiveness this time.”

“W-What?” “Ten,” emphasizing his next word with a slap on the side of your scrub suit clad hip before continuing, “for each round. You like being punished, do you not my love?” You yelp, eyes rounding from shock. “I will make sure you’ll be sore enough, you won’t be able to come to work for a week, baby.” He promises, his orbs growing dark as his mind starts to reel with lewd fantasies of you. His warning alone had you instantly weak in your knees, the familiar heat rapidly spreading in your stomach, and all you could do is fist his white coat, groaning achingly in need.

Yoongi smirks, knowing full well what the sound means, then invades your mouth in a searing kiss.

mintseesaw © 2020

[whump-a-la-mode]

Nemesis - Part 5

I wasn’t going to write this the same day as Villainsicle, but I just got so excited with the cliffhanger from last time!

At long last, it’s time for Hero to make their move.

In accordance with the votes from last time, Hero is going to keep up the ruse, and keep pretending to be Director.

CW//Mentions of recreational drugs/marijuana, forced sedation, medical setting, stretchers, IVs, talk of death/execution

When Hero met the team they had been newly assigned to, it had only been Teammate who had smiled.

It had been a few days, now, since that somewhat awkward meeting. The same sentiment had continued, however. While the rest of the team seemed merely to tolerate their new member, Teammate had been warm, welcoming.

So, it only seemed to reason that when Hero finally moved into their new dorm, it was Teammate who was giving them the mini tour.

“It’s not much.” The door creaked as it swung open on its hinges. Hero struggled to see the room within, peering their head over the precarious stack of boxes held in their hands. “But, it’s yours. Um, feel free to put your stuff down.”

Hero nodded gratefully, placing their luggage on the bed as Teammate began to gesture about.

“That’s, uh, well that’s obviously the bed. You sleep on a bed, right? Or do you use some kind of like, dog bed? Sorry, that was stupid.”

Hero snickered.

“No, no, you’re fine. I do sleep on a human bed.”

“That’s good, cause it’s the only kind we’ve got. So, yeah. That’s the bed. That’s the bathroom, through the door. That’s the dresser, feel free to use that for, clothes and stuff.”

“What about that door?”

“Oh.”

Teammate moved over to said door, sliding it open, revealing an empty closet that stood several feet deep.

“We’ve all got these. It’s just a closet.” They smiled. “I don’t know why they’re so big like that, but, hell, you could have someone live in there, I bet. It’s big enough, no one would ever notice.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

“Friend. I’m so glad you could come visit. I missed seeing you, last week, but I understand how busy you are this time of year. How are you finding everything?”

Hero gritted their teeth, gaze meeting that of Head Doctor. A warm smile replied to with a tense, nerve-wracked countenance.

For the briefest moment, Hero stood in a university building, hostages behind them, and a faceless nemesis before them.

Their tongue flitted over their teeth. They didn’t bother with an accent, there was no way they would have been able to keep it up. Their normal, stupid voice would have to do.

“I missed you, too. I apologize for dropping by so suddenly. Everything is just great, thank you.”

Head Doctor’s brow furrowed, their jaw twisting a moment as they gnawed on the inside of their cheek.

“Friend, your voice sounds different. Are you alright?”

“Yes, do not worry yourself. My allergies are acting up terribly today.”

“Are you certain that it is only allergies? You sound like a kid, again. Here, if you have a moment, perhaps we can go to my office. I’m not too busy, right now.”

“No, no, that won’t be needed.”

“I insist.”

Hero gulped, hoping only that it was not visible. In their ear, a nerve-wracked Hacker’s voice chirped:

“Y- you’re, uh, you’re the director, right? Just, like, order him to shut up!”

Opening their mouth, Hero sputtered, but managed to make out the words:

“If I was worried about my voice, I would tell you.” Their nerves turned rapidly to fury. “I didn’t come here to be berated. I have a- a meeting in an hour. I came here for a reason, and it wasn’t to chat.”

Hacker’s snickering only made Hero’s stomach twist into a tighter knot.

“O-Oh. I apologize, Director. We will just have to be friends off the clock, then.”

“Certainly.”

“What is it that I can help you with, then?”

Every piece of Hero’s body insisted for them to flee, to quickly make their excuses, duck out the door, and get out of this stupid suit. They could go home, go to their dorm, go smoke pot with Teammate. Everything would be okay, and they would never have to think about this place, or Villain, or Hacker, or any of it, ever again!

It would be so easy. They were risking everything, throwing it all away, and for no reason.

Leaving would be so simple, and yet...

If they left Villain here, they knew they would never sleep again. For the briefest moment, they were glad that they had never had much in the way of impulse control.

“My charge.” Hero turned, gesturing to where a twitching Villain sat, prostrate upon their hospital bed. “This is them, yes?”

“Villain? Yes.”

“Good. I will be taking them with me, then.”

Head Doctor’s expression of uncertainty turned to one of an agape jaw.

“I don’t- If you would like them to be moved to another facility, we can certainly arrange that, but-”

“That’s not what I said, is it? I have a car, here. I will be taking them with me.”

“Sir, are you absolutely certain? By your own order, they are on a very strict regime of medications. Removing them from the IV- It could be disastrous.”

Hero felt their stomach drop to their feet. Stupid! They hadn’t even thought about that, oh god, oh god. This stupid plan, it was going to kill Villain, wasn’t it? Maybe? Hell, they weren’t a doctor.

Even if it did kill them, though...

Did it really matter? As if they were really alive, right now.

“I am well aware of that!” The tone of their own voice nearly made Hero jump. “I have another facility set up, again, on my orders. They will be taking over care, from now on.”

“We have a transport vehicle for this very situation, Sir.”

“Not for this very situation, no. This is not a normal transfer.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t tell you that. It’s a highly classified matter. There is no driver in our employ that I can trust to manage this transfer, and thus I will handle it myself.”

“Oh.” Head Doctor frowned, as though a black-hued light bulb had turned on above their crown. “Sir if... If you want them disposed of, I agree that this may not be the best facility to arrange that, but we do have facilities that can perform that procedure.”

Hero bit their tongue with enough force to draw blood.

“I will arrange it myself, Head Doctor. I assure you, everything has already been worked out. Are you going to keep standing in my way, or do I need to bring in security?”

Head Doctor shook their head quickly.

“That won’t be necessary. What do you need?”

“Their IVs removed.” Even before Hero finished their phrase, the doctor was already at their patient’s bedside, withdrawing tubes from veins. Villain took in a sharp, shuddering breath. “And a transport stretcher prepared.”

“I assume you would like them to be restrained, too?”

“How long should the medications keep them down for?”

“Another twelve hours, maybe.”

“That will be more than enough. Don’t hassle yourself.”

“Of course, Sir.”

Hero’s legs moved like those of a newborn deer as they backed away towards a wall, leaving room for the orderlies and nurses to scurry about like an ant colony.

Some part of their mind, twisted by adrenaline and anxiety, could not help but remind them of the moment in their childhood when they had adopted a dog. The hurried, overworked vets, scurrying about the animal, checking vitals and microchips.

The dog had had no say in the matter. And, in this matter, Villain had no say, either.

The medical staff seemed not to feel any such sympathy, hands moving swiftly to shift about their paralyzed charge. Cursory checks were made of blood pressure and breathing and the like, though far more attention seemed to be directed upon the removal of various tubes and monitors. Following their detachment from the hospital bed, Villain was shifted by a dozen hands onto a thin blue cushion, laid atop a rolling contraption of wheels.

Hero hoped that the straps that tightened the unconscious person down were only strictly necessary.

Despite their anxiety telling them otherwise, the whole process only lasted a minute two, after which the remaining medical staff filed from the chamber, leaving only Head Doctor in their cyan scrubs.

“Thank you, friend.” Hero ducked their head, moving away from their place in the corner. “They are ready, then?”

“Yes, Sir. Do you need help getting them to your vehicle?”

“That would be great, yes.”

The two positioned themselves on either side of the rolling contraption, with Hero doing their very best to keep their eyes forward rather than down as they began to direct the stretcher through narrow hallways.

It was too light. It should have been heavier, they were certain.

The facility was terribly small, and it was only a minute later that the imitator and the medic stood, alone, in the parking lot, white picket fence far behind them.

Head Doctor glanced a moment at Hero’s beat up SUV, but their nerves kept them from commenting on the matter. Leaving the stretcher a moment, Hero moved to the back of the vehicle, prying open its rear hatch and flattening the seats.

“I assume this is an undercover operation, then?” The way Head Doctor said it implied the statement to be a joke.

“Something like that. How do we, um... I haven’t done this before.”

“It’s not that hard. Especially not when your patient may as well be a feather-- keep that in mind for your dosages, too. They’ve lost weight. Anyways, um, just fold the stretcher like so, and... Can you help lift?”

Hero nodded, doing their best to keep the stretcher flat as they raised it. The contraption hardly fit in the back of their vehicle, but it did fit, even as it was practically wedged between the walls. What was most important was that it sat low enough that the unconscious patient could not be seen through the windows-- at least not from a distance.

There was a sense of terrifying finality as they closed the vehicle’s rear hatch.

They were doing this.

Oh, they were going to get so caught.

What then? This had to be just about the worst offense a hero could commit. Using their powers and their position and the aid of a career criminal to break a villain out of prison. It seemed like a child’s hyperbole-- ‘What should we do if there’s a tornado and a fire and an earthquake? What then?’

Except, this time, there was no ‘what if’ to it.

It was these spiraling thoughts that distracted them just enough that they forget, momentarily, where their feet were landing. A split second of distraction, and they found themself on their back, head spinning from the fall.

Stupid.

They didn’t realize until they were back to their feet that their earpiece had fallen onto the pavement.

“Director? Are you alright?” Head Doctor raised a brow. “Oh, you dropped this.”

They knelt down, plucking the earbud off the ground, lifting it to their face to investigate.

And, in accordance with Hero’s fantastic luck, it was that exact moment in which Hacker decided to speak:

“Hero? Hero? Are you there? You cut out there for a moment. Head Doctor didn’t get you, did they?”

The doctor’s icy gaze lifted to meet that of the copycat.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

It was hard, to get out of the city.

The tendrils of concrete and glass reached out in a looping spiderweb of interstates and one way roads. Moving in a straight line was not an option, for every attempt made to do so would lead to the city herding you back in.

In the end, it must have taken Hero an hour and a half to reach what could be vaguely described as a ‘rural area.’ At the very least, it was outside of the inner city, which was what mattered surtout.

At the very least, the long drive had allowed them a moment to catch their breath.

Unlike some other buildings controlled by Organization, the rehab facility did not have much in the way of a security force-- unless you counted Head Doctor, which Hero did not. Unfortunately, the same thought had not seemed to have the doctor’s train of thought.

It was amazing just how little attention Hero had attracted, screeching out of a rehab facility’s parking lot with a screaming doctor chasing after them up to the property line. They could only assume that no one wanted to get involved in hero business.

Organization, however, would certainly be interested, once they heard about the incident.

Thus, Hero had spent the past hour and a half white-knuckling the steering wheel, steering around endless intersections, until they had found the smallest piece of rural land. A gravel parking lot, from which a flock of starlings had fled at the approach of Hero’s car.

Beneath the vehicle’s suspension, tires settled on broken up rocks.

Hero glanced in the rear view mirror for the thousandth time, but saw only the same thing as always-- endless, empty road.

For the first time in an hour and a half, they let themself breathe. Their car���s engine exhaled as they turned it off and twisted around in their seat.

Villain had not moved.

The few straps on the stretcher did little more than keep them from falling off the cushion. If they had any desire, any ability, to move, they would have had no trouble.

But they were still. Alive, eyelids twitching and chest moving, but still.

Taking care to avoid jostling the stretcher, Hero climbed from the driver’s seat to the back of the vehicle, crouching down at Villain’s side.

As gently as they could manage, Hero held their nemesis’ hand.

“Can you hear me?”

It was a stupid question. Of course Villain couldn’t hear them. Yet, as soon as Hero’s mouth opened, they found themself unable to close it. Unable to still their tongue.

“I don’t... I know it’s been a long time.”

A wave of orange light washed over the two as the sun drifted below the window.

“I know it’s been a long time. And maybe this is stupid. Maybe you hate me. Maybe you want to go back there. Go back to sleep. Maybe that’s all you want. But... I want to help you.

I don’t know anything else. I just know I want to help you.

We weren’t friends, before. I know that. We both know that. And, if I’m being completely honest, I don’t know why I’m doing this. We hated each other. Maybe I still hate you, but...

We can figure that all out later, okay? Right now, I just want to help.”

It was in that position that the nemeses sat, breathing in their first tastes of non-city air in so many years. Outside of the vehicle’s walls, the sun drifted below the horizon, replaced by its lunar sister.

When the last shreds of twilight were at last dead, Hero felt at long last safe to return home. One last time, they squeezed Villain’s hand.

Villain squeezed back. The slightest movement-- perhaps a simple involuntary reaction. Perhaps it didn’t mean anything.

But, to Hero, it meant everything.

On the return trip to the city, the streets were far quieter, and thankfully devoid of any sort of Organization search patrols. In fact, their arrival at the HQ was almost too uneventful. But, they weren’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Had they not been so stupid, so reckless, they would still have help. They would still have Hacker. Their friend could have guided them through the HQ, guided them on how to avoid the security cameras.

But Hero had been stupid. They had been reckless. Now, they were alone.

At the very least, the parking lot was deserted, and they met no resistance as they unstrapped Villain from their transport. They haphazardly covered the device with a tarp, all the while struggling to keep their limp friend from falling over.

Any strength that Villain had once held in their legs had long since been stolen away from them. After a few clumsy attempts to get them to their feet, Hero resolved to a simple bridal carry.

They could only hope that Villain would not remember this. They would never hear the end of it.

Without the benefit of an eye in the sky, all Hero could do against the possibility of cameras was to lean over the load they carried, hoping it at least obscured Villain’s face.

The HQ was deserted.

At this hour, it was never deserted.

The very thought made their blood turn to frozen slush, but they had no choice but to keep moving. Keep moving to the elevator, then out of it. Keep moving to their floor, then their quarters.

At the very least, Teammate’s snoring still echoed. Not everything was out of place.

Well-placed steps led Hero to their dorm, locking the door behind themself.

They looked down.

Villain was in their room. Their dorm. They were really never going to hear the end of this, were they?

Unfortunately, hours spent panicking over their nemesis’ condition had not spontaneously made Hero a doctor. Whatever they were going through right now, helping them through it was beyond them.

They had no medicines. No treatments. But, they had a closet, and a pile of blankets within. When Villain was finally tucked into the makeshift bed, they were almost invisible beneath the layers of fabric.

Though they were not quite sure why, Hero smiled.

That odd expression remained on their face as they got to their knees, staring upon their work.

For once, they had done something right. They had succeeded at something. Take that, Leader!

Villain twitched.

For a moment, Hero thought that their nerves had simply made them hallucinate the movement. But, no, they certainly had not dreamed it, as a moment later, the small movement repeated itself.

Villain opened their eyes. They spoke as though their tongue was made of ice, but that did not make their voice any quieter.

“Please, no! Please! Please, don’t do this! Help me help me help me someone help me. Please! I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it!”

The sobbing grew to such a point that it shook Hero’s chest, like the thrum of a bass, echoing through the floor.

“Please!”

Through all the chaos, Hero was surprised that they even heard the knock at the door, and the quiet voice that came with it:

“Hero? Hero, it’s Teammate. Is everything okay in there?”

“I didn’t mean to see it! I won’t tell Hero, I promise! I promise!”

All at once, Hero understood the saying of being caught between a rock and a hard place.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Thanks so much for reading! Just like last time, there are two options along with every part of this story. Alongside each options is a question, so that you guys can give more specific suggestions if you so wish. The option that receives the most votes will be the choice that our Hero makes!

A.) Hero has gone this alone for too long, and Teammate is their friend. Let Teammate in. - How should Hero quiet Villain?

B.) Teammate is a risk, and Hero has already taken enough of those. Don’t let them in - How should Hero explain this?

[tails89]

Unbreakable

Pairing: Evan Buckley x Eddie Diaz Rating: T Warnings: None Words: 2.7k

Read on AO3

All it takes is one split second.

Buck had been right there beside him, talking into his radio, confirming they were on their way out.

And then he was gone.

The floor had caved in beneath them with a thunderous crack and somehow—Eddie still can’t fathom how— somehow, Buck had managed to shove Eddie to the side before disappearing in a shower of smoke and smouldering wood.

“Buck!” He screams, kneeling on the edge of the hole and peering over. He can see the yellow stripe on the back of Buck’s coat, unmoving beneath the debris. “Captain Nash, this is Eddie.” He fumbles with the radio. “Buck is down. He went through the floor, I can’t— he’s not moving.”

He doesn’t wait for the reply. Eddie scrambles to his feet heading back towards the staircase that will take him to the ground floor.

“Chim is on his way to you.” The radio crackles to life. “Can you get down to Buck and give us a report on his condition?”

“Yeah, copy that.” Eddie takes the stairs, two at a time. “I’ve almost got him.” He skids to a halt, dropping to his knees beside Buck. As far as he can tell, the turnout gear has protected him from serious burns, but the fact that Buck’s unconscious is a serious concern.

It’s probably only been a minute or two, time moves at a strange pace when you’re trying not to panic, but any blow hard enough to knock someone out is dangerous.

“Buck?” Eddie knocks away bits of debris. “Can you hear me? Open your eyes, cariño.” He rubs his closed fist against Buck’s chest, breathing a sigh or relief when it prompts a groan from the younger firefighter. “Hey, there you are. Just stay still for me.” His heart is still pounding as he clears a space around Buck, afraid to move him before Chim arrives but also mindful of the burning building around them.

“Eddie?”

“I’m right here.” He leans into Buck’s field of vision. “I’m going to get you out of here, okay?”

Buck blinks up at him, his eyes fluttering shut for a second before he drags them back open.

“Don’t even think about it,” Eddie warns, glancing up as another figure arrives. “Eyes open Buck, or I’ll tell Chim what you said about him this morning.”

“What’s this?” Chim asks, kneeling opposite Eddie. “Buck’s talking shit about me again?”

“Nothing that wasn’t true,” Buck mumbles.

“If you say so, Buckaroo.” Chim moves quickly, assessing Buck’s ability to move before nodding to Eddie.

“Alright, time to get out of here,” Eddie says. “Let us do all the work okay?”

“You’re good at that, right Buck?” Chim pipes up, earning a pained smile from their patient. They each hook an arm across their shoulders and heft Buck upright. He groans, eyes squeezing shut from the movement.

Eddie and Chimney carry him out into the fresh air, carefully lying him down away from the fire, then get to work.

Hen joins them as they strip him of his jacket and start a more thorough assessment of his injuries. Eddie kneels by his head, keeping up a steady stream of reassuring chatter as Hen and Chim poke and prod and jostle.

Buck doesn’t say anything, just gives short jerking nods when he’s asked a question, eyes scrunched up in pain and discomfort.

Eddie reaches down to grab Buck’s hand; the one Hen hasn’t just inserted an IV into and gives it a squeeze. The fingers in his grip tighten in response.

“Ready to transport, cap,” Hen calls out when she’s done. The three of them get Buck on the backboard and transfer him to the stretcher.

“Bobby?” Eddie glances over at his captain, still clutching Buck’s hand.

“Go,” Bobby tells him. “Keep us updated.”

With a nod, Eddie follows Chimney up into the back of the ambulance.

The ride to the hospital is tense, even with Chimney cracking jokes to lighten the mood.

Buck is in and out, drowsy with a probable concussion and who knows what else. Eddie can feel the panic clawing at his throat, but he manages to keep it together, never once letting go of Buck’s hand until they reach the hospital. He focuses on the point of contact, using the warmth of Buck’s skin to keep grounded and remind himself that Buck will be okay.

It feels like it takes no time at all to reach the hospital. Hen does the handover while Chim and Eddie help transfer Buck from the stretcher to a bed.

“Let us know what happens,” Chim says, giving Eddie a clap on the shoulder, and promising to be back after their shift.

The hospital staff try to send Eddie away too, but Buck has come around enough that he is not having that.

“I’m his partner,” Eddie explains, laying a calming hand on Buck’s shoulder. One of the nurses has cut away his pants to inspect the burns on his leg and another is tearing through his shirt. “Please, I won’t get in the way.”

Buck is pretty out of it once they give him some pain relief. He gets wheeled away for imaging tests and Eddie takes the opportunity duck outside to text Bobby an update and call Carla to ask if she can take Chris to stay with his aunt.

Chris, of course, immediately wants to come and stay with Eddie at the hospital.

“It’ll be boring, kiddo,” Eddie tells him. “Just lots of waiting around and Buck will probably be asleep.”

“But what about when he wakes up?” Chris asks. “He shouldn’t wake up alone, dad.” And Eddie just can’t with this kid. He wonders, not for the first time, how he managed to raise someone with such a big heart.

“He won’t be alone,” Eddie promises. “I’ll be here, and maybe tía Pepa can bring you over in the morning. I know Buck will want to see you when he wakes up, but tonight he needs his rest.”

“Okay, dad.”

Eddie doesn’t need to see his son to know how hard he’s pouting at the phone right now.

“Tell Buck I love him.”

“I will. You be good for Pepa. Love you.”

“Love you too, dad.”

Eddie disconnects the call with a sigh then goes to check his messages. There’s a text message from Chimney saying he’d called Maddie.

“Shit.” Eddie quickly scrolls to her number. He’d completely forgotten in all the chaos—Maddie should have been the first person he’d called.

“Eddie?”

“Maddie, I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t worry about it, Chim called me and let me know what happened. How is my little brother?”

“He’s going to be okay.” Eddie rattles off some of the words that had been thrown around in the emergency room. “Concussion, second degree burns on his legs, maybe cracked ribs?” He takes a deep breath. “They’re doing some more testing to determine the severity of the concussion, but they didn’t seem overly concerned.”

“That’s good news at least,” Maddie says. “Evan just can’t do things by halves can he?”

Eddie huffs out a soft laugh. “Half-assing it just isn’t in his vocabulary.” The ball of anxiety that’s been sitting in his chest for the better part of an hour finally starts to unwind.

“I’ll be there soon,” Maddie says. “And Chim said he was going to head over. Have you eaten yet? I’ll bring you something.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Eddie assures her.

“I know, but you must be starving. Chim definitely will be.”

“Thanks Maddie.”

“I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Yeah.” The call ends with a beep and Eddie shoves his phone back into his pocket. He’s still wearing his turnouts, he realises belatedly. His coat is draped over the chair behind him, his helmet balances on a knee.

“Mr Diaz?” One of the nurses beckons him over. “We’re admitting Evan,” she tells him. “If you’d like to come with me, I’ll take you up to his room.”

“He’s okay?” Eddie follows her down the corridor towards the elevator.

“Nothing nasty turned up in the MRI,” she explains. “His helmet protected him from any skull fractures, but he still got his brains rattled about pretty good.”

The elevator doors open with a ding, and they step inside.

“He’s got a couple of cracked ribs and the burns on his legs will need to be monitored to ensure they don’t get infected.”

“How long before he can come home?” Eddie asks.

“His doctor wants to keep him overnight to monitor the concussion, but all going well, he’ll likely be released tomorrow, maybe the day after at the latest.”

When the lift stops, she leads him out to a room on the ward. Eddie pushes the door open to step inside.

“Buck?”

The lights are low, but it’s still easy to make him out on the bed. Eddie drags a chair over, taking a seat at Buck’s side.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I fell through a floor and had the whole house land on me,” Buck croaks, looking a lot more alert than the last time Eddie had seen him. He’s still pale and drawn, but it’s good to hear his voice.

“Well—”

“Don’t say it,” Buck groans. He swallows, his face paling even more, something Eddie wouldn’t have thought possible. His birthmark stands out in stark relief against his skin.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie asks, reaching for Buck’s hand. He rubs circles into the skin of Buck’s wrist.

“Nausea.”

“I can help with that.” The nurse who’d shown Eddie up to the room is still hovering nearby. “I’ll go have a chat with the doctor and be back in a minute.” She hands Buck an emesis basin before she leaves, just in case.

Alone in the room, Eddie reaches with his free hand to run his fingers through Buck’s hair. He’s careful not to use too much pressure and aggravate anything but Buck seems to appreciate it, sinking down further into his pillow.

“How are you really feeling?” Eddie asks, his thumb trailing across Buck’s temple.

“Like shit,” Buck mumbles. “Nothing… hurts? But I know it’s going to later.” He shuts his eyes, swallowing convulsively to keep from being sick, clutching the basin in his free hand.

Fortunately, the nurse returns before he has to use it. She gives him something and leaves them alone again.

“You should get back to Chris.” Nausea dealt with, Buck is loose-limbed and sleepy, blinking up at Eddie.

“Chris is fine,” Eddie assures him. “He’s spending the night with Pepa. He wants to come by and see you tomorrow if you’re feeling up to it.”

“Mm, I’d like that.” Buck’s eyes drift shut and his breathing evens out into sleep.

Eddie watches him for a moment, still running his fingers through Buck’s hair, until he’s sure he’s truly out. He pulls out his phone to see that Maddie, Chim, Bobby and Hen have all arrived.

He stands, pressing a kiss to Buck’s forehead and goes downstairs to meet his family.

~

Maddie is the one who convinces Eddie to go home.

He’s grimy with sweat and soot from the fire they had been attending and she gives him her best big sister stare and tells him under no uncertain terms that he stinks.

“And I mean that in a loving way,” she says, handing over a box of Chinese takeout.

He sits outside with Chim and Hen to eat, while Maddie and Bobby head upstairs to check on Buck for themselves.

“How’s our boy doing?” Hen asks.

“He’ll be fine,” Eddie says. “He’ll be sore and grumpy when I take him hope, but you know Buck.”

“Yeah, I don’t envy you there,” Chim says. “Buck is the worst patient, so have fun with that.”

After they eat Bobby gives him a ride back to the station to collect his car.

“I’ve called Marcus in to cover your shift tomorrow,” Bobby says as Eddie is climbing out of the car. “If you still need time after your days off, let me know.”

“Thanks Bobby.”

“Don’t mention it, you just take care of Buck for us. And take care of yourself too.” Bobby drives off and Eddie walks to his car before he starts getting too many questions from B shift. Buck is a well-liked member of the 118 and everyone wants to send Eddie off with well-wishes to pass on.

It’s late by the time Eddie finally gets home.

With Chris off at Pepa’s and Buck at the hospital, the house is dark and quiet. Too quiet, in Eddie’s opinion.

He turns the TV just to give himself some background noise while he showers and changes for bed.

It takes a long time to fall asleep.

~

Eddie picks Chris up in the morning on his way back to the hospital.

Chris has a thousand questions about what happened, and will Buck be okay, and when can they bring him home.

It strikes Eddie that he’d said the same thing the night before. He’d asked the nurse when he could bring Buck home.

For all the time they spent together and as much as Buck was a part of the family with Eddie and Chris, he did still technically have his own apartment. Not that he used it that much. Eddie had been able to pack a bag using the clothes Buck had stuffed into a drawer in Eddie’s room. There was a toothbrush on the sink for when Buck stayed the night.

Maybe it was time for Eddie to finally ask Buck to move in.

The thought keeps him distracted the whole way to the hospital. He’s still mulling it over as he helps Chris down from the back seat and leads the way up to Buck’s room.

“He’s asleep, dad.” Chris is disappointed when they open the door and Buck is still fast asleep.

He’s got a bit of colour in his cheeks this morning. He doesn’t look quite so pale against the starched white hospital sheets.

“You sleep a lot too when you’re not feeling well,” Eddie reminds his son, pulling up a second chair and moving Chris’s crutches to a spot where they’re not going to trip anyone up. “Have you got your game with you?”

Nodding, Chris pulls his Switch from his backpack, content to play his game while they wait for Buck to wake.

It doesn’t take long. The thing with hospitals is that they’re never really quiet and Buck jerks awake when something is dropped just outside his room.

“Hey, you.” Eddie leans forward in his chair and waits for Buck to get his bearings. “How are you feeling?”

“Ugh, I feel like shi—” he notices Chris on the other side of the bed, “-t.” He grimaces. “Sorry, brain could thing of anything fast enough.”

“I think we’ll let it slide this time,” Eddie says, grinning.

“Dad says sometimes bad words are okay.” Chris puts away his game and stands, shifting his weight so he can lean against the bed for balance. “I’m glad you’re okay Buck, I missed you last night.”

“I missed you too bud,” Buck says, reaching out to ruffle Chris’s curls. “Just seeing you makes me feel better already.”

Chris beams at the words and Eddie feels his heart swell.

“So,” Buck shifts on the bed, his face tightens as he jars something, probably his ribs, but he doesn’t mention it. “Any idea when I can get out of here?”

“I was talking to a nurse last night who said you’ll probably be released today,” Eddie tells him. “But we’ll have to wait until the doctor gives you the okay.”

“Hospitals are the worst,” Buck groans, his head tipping back against the pillows. “Right Chris?” Chris nods and Buck pats the bed. “Why don’t you show me the game you were playing while we wait.”

~

Buck is discharged late that afternoon.

He makes a fuss about using the wheelchair, but when he tries to stand all the blood drains from his face and he has to sit back down real fast.

“Ready to try the wheelchair now?” Eddie asks him, keeping a gentle hand on Buck’s shoulder in case he tries to faceplant again.

“Yeah.” The word comes out in one long breath. “Sorry, I didn’t think it would hurt that much.”

“When we get home, I’ll make up the couch for you,” Eddie says, “and you’re staying there for the rest of the week.”

“Home?” Buck glances up sharply.

“My home,” Eddie clarifies, then after a moment’s hesitation says, “Our home.”

“I like the sound of that,” Buck says, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Okay Eds, take me home.”

[noirineverysense]

Chapter 7

Previous >> Masterlist >> Next

Inspired by @humdrummoloch prompt 1832.

4 years earlier.

Arthur lies on a countryside path, bloody and bruised. His breath rattles in his chest as the harsh sun bears down, scorching and unrelenting. He attempts to move but is met with protests of pain shooting up his limbs.

Am I going to die here?

His mind flashes back to the moments before he is attacked. He had been carrying files he had taken from a facility that a client had mentioned they had heard strange noises from, when a van drove up alongside him. Men in black balaclavas jumped out and ripped the files out of his hand then beat him with fists and kicks. One had a bat that was driven into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Another pulled a blade out and stabbed his side before yanking the knife out. Then they left in the van, as quickly as they came.

There was a coppery taste in his mouth, as he watched a pool of red begin to grow beside him. His phone was too far away for him to reach and call for help.

He hears footsteps approaching, quick and light. Then the intense sun is blocked by the silhouette of a person bending over him. They pull strips of fabric out of a bag, bandages? He winces as pressure is applied to his side. The person, Arthur guesses it’s a woman, is saying things to him but he doesn’t hear it. He passes out at some point while the stranger is on her phone.

He wakes up gasping, head facing a white, tiled ceiling, the same one in all his nightmares. His head twists around to find himself attached to an IV-line; clear fluid being transported into his veins. There’s other medical equipment around him too that he doesn’t how its going to be used on him. His breaths leave his lungs quickly, but air doesn’t seem to return to him. Blood pounded in his ears as his mind raced.

No, no!

D-Don’t hurt me....

I’m not, I’m not a monster!

No....

“NO!” he screams, trying to get himself off the bed, gripping the things in his arm keeping him there. There are shouts, then hands try to hold him down, restraining his movement. Shadows loomed above.

A man in a white lab coat appears in the corner of his eye and he starts thrashing against his captors. He manages to catch one with a flailing hand and there’s a yelp.

“Sedate him!” the man shouts and Arthur feels tears streaming down his eyes.

Please not again, I can’t do this again.

Just kill me! Please!

“Stop it!” A bellow comes from the doorway and there’s a young woman stood there, in a brown jumper and yellow hijab. She’s carrying a sandwich in one hand and looks incensed.

Arthur peers over in fear of another scientist until he notices her clothes and the food in her hand. None of the men in his dreams dressed like that, or came with food.

She storms over to the man.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she seethed.

“The patient was a danger to himself and others.” The doctor says stiffly.

Oh, it’s a hospital doctor.

I’m in a hospital.

“Does he look like a danger now?!”

“Well, medical procedure states that- “

“I know the fucking procedure!” she yells.

She rushes to the side of the hospital bed, pushing nurses around it out of the way.

“Hey are you okay?” she breathes, bending down to meet his eye-level and holding his hand.

The people at the facility didn’t do that either.

He tries his best to nod and she steps up again, still gripping his hand.

“Did you not think for a second that maybe he was acting like that because he was terrified of being in a hospital? And you holding him down and threatening to sedate him would just make it worse!”

Arthur would laugh if he could, most people didn’t have that kind of perception and it was obvious the doctor and nurses didn’t at the confused looks they gave.

Then he notices the outline of her top half and the medical bag around her shoulder.

“Y-you...” he rasps.

She turns, letting go of his hand. “Me? Me what?”

He coughs, then shakes his head, changing his question.

“Phone?” he asks hoarsely.

“Yeah, I have your phone. You’ve got messed up priorities.”

“C-call Isaac, tell him...”

“I already answered his call, he’s on his way.”

Arthur rests against the pillows, his heart rate finally coming down. The doctor and the nurses glance at him before piling out of the room. He watches as the woman sits in the seat next to him, carefully peeling a sandwich wrapper before taking a bite.

She looks back at him, “What? I’m not giving you any.”

“No,” his voice is still hoarse, “thank you.”

She keeps her gaze on him, “It’s my job.”

“You’re a doctor?”

“A medic.”

Oh. That’s convenient.

“You looking for a job?”

She looks down at her sandwich and takes another bite.

“Maybe,” she mumbles.

“Work for me.”

Her eyes widen in surprise. “That’s very forward of you. What do you do?”

“Hunt ghosts, aliens, werewolves, you name it.”

She sighs and bites her sandwich again.

“Don’t waste my time.”

“I’m being serious.” Arthur frowns.

She looks up in shock, “What?”

“I’m a paranormal investigator. My partner and I solve cases on the supernatural.”

“What?!”

“We get injured on a semi-regular basis and as we take more cases, the chances of that happening are increasing,” Arthur explains. “So we need a medic.”

Isaac bursts through the door, eyes darting back and forth until he sees Arthur’s bed and rushes to it.

“And that’s your partner?” she asks.

“Yep, work with us.”

“You’re supposed to frame it as a question.”

“I can already tell you’re thinking about it.”

“I don’t even know your name,” she points out, “and you don’t even know mine.”

“It’s Nasira, isn’t it?”

Nasira’s eyes widen in shock, “How do you- “

“You have tag on your medical bag with your name on.”

She relaxes in her chair, “If you think I’m impressed by that, I’m not.”

“Why do you carry a medic’s bag if you haven’t got a job?”

“Why do you think? To help idiots like you when no-one else does.”

“Not interrupting anything, am I?”

They both turn to look at Isaac who glances at Arthur before smiling at Nasira’s irritated look.

“He’s hiring you?”

“Trying to.” Nasira rolls her eyes.

Arthur sighs before he lifts his head off the pillows and looks directly at her.

“My name is Arthur Reyes, I’m a detective looking into the things hidden by this city. It’s a high-risk job, but if you give me your trust, I will protect you with my life. You want in?”

Nasira raises a brow at the honesty of the man before she frowns as she thinks.

She looks between Isaac’s grin and Arthur’s narrowed eyes. Her gaze drops to the floor.

Arthur sighs. “Here, take this.” He nods at Isaac who passes a card to her. Then, she gets up and walks away from the two who started to mutter to each other.

While she leaves, Nasira looks down to read the card.

‘ACP - the Agency for Cryptids and the Paranormal.’

There’s a number and address too.

“You came?” Arthur’s eyes widen as he stands at the door of the office that Nasira had knocked on.

“I wanted to give my answer in person.”

“Well, what are you thinking?”

Nasira looks up toward the city skyline behind Arthur, an aloof expression on her face.

“Maybe we could talk about this over coffee?” Arthur suggests.

Her attention returns to Arthur, “Don’t like coffee.”

“Aah, me neither,” he rubs the nape of his neck.

“How about we go for a walk?”

“Don’t like walking.”

“.... Or I could text you?”

“Don’t like texting.”

Arthur sighs in resignation, “So it’s a no?”

“It’s a yes.”

Arthur turns to leave before his head whirls back around.

“What?”

“You heard me,” she quirks an eyebrow and puts a hand on one hip, “I’m in.”

“But- “

“Well, show me around your office then.” She starts to push Arthur back through the agency’s door.

The sun hides away for the day, giving way to a cool night breeze.

Arthur laughs, “Okay, okay. I’m still injured, you know.”

She stops pushing and starts to walk beside him.

“Let’s go, then.”

taglist: @tinyplan3ts

[animebaby00]

Request: Makoto/Haru

Makoto and Haru in university. Makoto is involved in an accident. Haru called out of class. Their story of recovery. Makoto with a broken leg/ribs and Haru from the traumatic fear of almost losing Makoto. Haru takes care of Makoto.

Phew ! I'm so sorry this took awhile to get out! But it's here and ready for you! I hope you like it!

Our Pain is Also Our Strength

(WARNING: Mentions of car accidents below)

Haru knew something was wrong the moment he got called out of swim practice at Hidaka University. The odd feeling he got when he was told to go to the office. It made his skin prickle with unease and made his hands become sweaty and cold, creating a heavy sensation that felt like a rock was sitting deep in the middle of his stomach.

It was such a rare occurrence. On one hand alone, he could count the amount of times he'd been taken out of class during all of his years in elementary school and highschool. Most of the time, it had been for medical reasons, things involving family. But as far as he knew, there was no such issue in any of those departments. 

Until today. 

Static rang in his ears upon hearing it. A woman at a desk muttered something to him, a collection of about 30 words, but Haru only registered 3 as he ran out of the school's building and to the nearest train station

Makoto, accident, and hospital.

Those were the words that repeated over and over and over again in his mind and not just because of their connections, but because Haru just couldn't register…

How? And why? 

He wasn't even sure what "accident" meant. Did he fall? Injure himself? Did something happen at work? Did someone step out of line and hurt him? He hoped it wasn't that. 

Who would even hurt someone who was as nice,sweet, and considerate as Makoto? 

So many questions that Haru didn't know the answer to. And that scared him.

However, that feeling increased tenfold when he was told at the reception that Makoto was in the emergency ward as well as full detail of what happened. 

It was a traffic accident. Not as extreme as most but effective enough to cause a significant amount of damage. Makoto had been at an intersection at the corner, preparing to turn, and some bastard had run a red light. 

Makoto's car had spun around due to the compact and the driver's side had collided with the base pole of another stoplight on the adjacent side of the street, trapping him inside. Supposedly, he had been unconscious when the paramedics arrived on the scene, but had woken up due to all the commotion. That was all the information Haru had collected until he just couldn't take it anymore and promptly asked where Makoto's room was. 

He excused himself from the individuals he had bumped into to get there, apologized for pushing himself into the already full elevator that would take him to the proper floor. He didn't feel bad though, considering that he was damn sure that anyone who was in his situation with a boyfriend who was in an unknown state after an unfortunate accident would be in a rush just like he was in now. 

Finally, he arrived, and he wasted no time in entering, desperation and worry gnawing away down into his bones. 

"Makoto ?" He asked urgently, practically sprinting inside the room, "Makoto ? Are you in here ?" 

"H-Haru ?"

His blood froze, eyes widening at Makoto's voice.

It sounded so weak.

Slowly, Haru peered around the privacy curtain in the center of the room that divided off the bed from a double sink area and an extra IV stand, gaze resting on the inhabitant in the bed he had been so worriedly aching to see. 

And the sight he was met with utterly knocked the wind out of him. 

He'd never ever thought that he'd have to see Makoto, his Makoto, in a state like this. 

The first thing he noticed was the cast, huge, bulky, riding all the way from the top of Makoto's foot to his midthigh, elevated with a stack of thick hospital pillows. Crisp, clean bandages were thickly wrapped on a few sections of his arms, but a more noticeable one was wrapped widely around his chest area, their whiteness off set by the splotches of several bruises that littered his skin. There were a few butterfly bandages on his forehead and over his brow to seal the more minor injuries, and several IV cords were dangling from the holders above, administering from what Haru could count as 3 different medications.

And Makoto sat in the middle of it all, and still managed to,somehow, keep that damned, adorable, beautiful smile on his face. It was smaller than usual, but still, it was there.

All too quickly, he found himself rushing forward in angry, terrified, relief to Makoto's side. He pulled him into his arms the best he could without hurting him, not giving a damn when the hot tears that he didn't even know he was holding in, cascaded in waterfalls down his face. 

"M-Makoto," he hiccuped, burying his face into the crook of his neck, "God, Makoto…" 

He could feel the bigger male hum against his ear, warm arms and hands encircling his back, "It's okay, Haru. I'm alright. I'm here."

"S-shut up. Y-you almost…" he pulled away, furiously wiped at his face, and proceeded to cup Makoto's cheeks in his hands, gliding his fingers over his jaw, his cheekbones, and the bridge of his nose, committing every single feature to absolute memory. He leaned forward, allowing their foreheads to touch and he let out a shaky sigh.

"D-do you know how m-much that s-scared me? I...I thought you-"

"Hey, come on." Makoto's soft voice eased, grabbing onto the hands that were cradling his face, ""Don't think like that."

"How can I not?!" Haru wept, voice cracked like broken glass, "This isn't something we can just forget about! I could've lost you today, Makoto !" 

"I know…" the injured male trailed, hurt by his boyfriend's distressed outburst. He couldn't blame him though. If Haru had been the one in his position, he would probably be saying the exact same thing right now. 

He grabbed the distressed male's hands in his own. 

They were covered in cold sweat, but Makoto didn't mind in the slightest. 

"Haru please, calm down. There's nothing we can do right now until the doctor comes back in so let's just...talk. Okay?" 

A light pressure could be felt against his palms and Haru looked down, noticing the gentle squeeze from Makoto's fingers. His staggered breathing calmed some and he closed his eyes.

"Y-you're right." He stammered, amazed at how easy it was for him to calm down by Makoto's simple touch, "I'm sorry. Anger is the last thing you need. I shouldn't have come in so...so"

"Hey, you have nothing to apologize for. If I were you, I probably would have done the same thing," he ghosted his fingers over Haru's knuckles, "You have every right to be upset and it would be a lie if I said I wasn't upset too. No one wants to be in the...position that I'm in right now. It's not exactly ideal, or comfortable for that matter."

Haru's eyes immediately widened, "Are you in pain?" he  fretted, to which he got an immediate reply of a shaking of a head. 

"No, not really. They've been pumping me full of drugs since I've got here. If anything, I just feel really sluggish and tired, but I can't really find the ability to sleep. They didn't want me too just in case I had a concussion." 

"Oh…" 

"Haru?"

"Hm?" 

Makoto opened his arms, and Haru immediately shook his head. 

"Why not?"

"I don't…" he looked down at the floor, "I don't want to hurt you."

"Silly," Makoto chuckled, arms spreading the tiniest bit wider, "You won't hurt me. Now come here."

Haru looked off to the side a little uneasily, but then proceeded to scoot forward until he was laying in the crook of the space between Makoto's arm and the side of his chest, head resting on his shoulder. 

"There," Makoto smiled, "Much better."

Haru said nothing, instead opting to guide Makoto's face towards his. And in one, swift movement, their lips were merged together in a soft, heartfelt kiss

Makoto's eyes closed at the feel of Haru's cool, sweet lips on his, noticing the feel of his hand gripping his neck in a gentle, desperate fashion as he carded his fingers through Haru's soft, dark hair. Those actions were a silent agreement that right now, this was what they needed most.

~~~~~~~

"There. Does that feel okay? Not too high? Do you need me to move anything?"

Makoto chuckled, "It feels perfect Haru. Thank you."

He nodded, "I'll be right back with the ice, do you want anything from the kitchen while I'm in there ?" 

"No, I'm okay. Just the ice is fine."

"Okay…"

It's been 2 weeks since Makoto's accident, and during that time, Haru had been doing absolutely everything he could to aid in Makoto's recovery. 

When the doctor had come back in to speak to the both of them, he had revealed that Makoto had a plethora of injuries. 

He didn't have a concussion which was good, but he did suffer from a broken right leg, 2 broken ribs, some cuts and bruises, and he had to get a few stitches on a cut above his eyebrow. They were certainly grateful they both had good medical insurance and savings since it was obvious that Makoto was going to be down for some time. 

The doctor gave him an estimation of 2 months with the cast and an additional month with a leg brace as well as some light physical therapy. All in all, a supposed 3 month period before he would make a full recovery. 

That meant, he couldn't coach, teach, or swim at all until that time period was up. He had also been put on strict bed rest for 3 weeks minus the necessary actions of using the bathroom, to which he had to use crutches to do so in addition to any other walking around that he did. At least Makoto only had 1 week of bedrest left, and he was grateful for that. He was also immensely grateful for all of the things Haru had been doing to take care of him. 

The chores around the house; cooking, cleaning, laundry, and the shopping. Making sure he was comfortable at all times, helping him bathe and get dressed while also attending college on top of it all. Haru was doing it all and it was definitely a lot to take care of. And while Makoto deeply appreciated it...he couldn't help but feel bad, but he knew there was nothing he could do except help out in the tiny increments where he could while also ensuring Haru that he was fine.

Which he was having to do a lot as of late. 

"Here, I have your ice."

Makoto snapped his head up, "Hm? Oh, thank you Haru!" 

"No problem…"

Haru gently set the ice pack to lay steadily on the base of Makoto's cast then took a seat next to the temporarily disabled male, head moving to lay on his shoulder as he grabbed the remote to randomly scan through the TV channels. 

Makoto shifted his position slightly, arm raising to rest over Haru's shoulders. Even from the slight touch, Makoto could feel how tense they were. He gently ran his hand over them, even turning it up to smooth at the base of Haru's neck where his hair ended, and he frowned slightly as the rumble of a yawn left Haru's lips.

"Are you tired?" 

"A little."

"Why don't you get some sleep…"

"I'm fine."

"But Haru-" 

"I have to take care of you."

A sigh left Makoto's lips. This was growing to be his response for absolutely everything. He gently squeezed his boyfriend's shoulder.

"I'll be fine for a few hours. You need to stop thinking about me so much and also take some time to look after yourself. You're exhausted Haru, anyone can see that."

Haru shook his head "It was just that stupid nightmare I had. It woke me up a few times, that's all. I'll sleep better tonight." 

A deeper frown etched it's way onto Makoto's lips. 

Every so often for the last few nights, he was aware that Haru had been struggling to get a good night's sleep.  It was only about a week ago that Haru shared the information that he was having nightmares about the accident and Makoto was devastated. But once again, he couldn't blame him, even though he had told Haru to wake him on the occasions that he did have them so that he could at least talk and try to quell the feelings they caused for his traumatized love. From what Haru told him, they weren't pleasant, almost all of them resulting in a twisted, gory ending that was nowhere close to what actually happened.

"Haru…" Makoto whispered, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Didn't want to bother you. You need rest."

"And so do you." 

Makoto guided his other hand under Haru's chin, inwardly wincing as the action caused a twinge of pain to shoot through his chest, but he didn't care. Slowly, he guided Haru's head to look at him, green to a heavy, exhausted, dark-circle rimmed blue.

"Listen, I know you're worried about me, and you have every right to be. What happened was... uneventful. And it was unexpected and scary. I get that. But you wearing yourself down to care for me isn't going to help anything."

Haru pressed his lips together, and looked downwards, "...It's not just that." 

"Huh? What do you mean?"

 "Why I'm doing this? It's not just to help you. It's..." he looked back up, eyes now brimming with tears " It's so that I'm always with you. I don't want to leave your side."

Makoto felt his heart jitter uncomfortably in his chest, "Oh, Haru…"

"What happened two weeks ago," he started suddenly, "It scared me. I...I don't think I've ever been that scared in my life. Seeing you like that...it just showed me what life can do to you." 

Makoto stayed silent as Haru continued, his voice growing to become tight and strained.

"All I can picture is what else could have happened. I just can't get it out of my head. I don't want to have nightmares, I don't want to be fearful. But I realized then, when I saw you…" he swallowed thickly, and gripped the fabric of Makoto's t-shirt, tears falling.

"I saw how fast things can be taken away from you. How fast you can lose the things you care about, and I don't ever want you to be taken away from me…!"

Makoto was at a loss for words as Haru cried into his shoulder. This whole time, he was so scared, terrified, and he left it eating away at him until he couldn't anymore. 

This accident affected the both of them, sure. But it had affected Haru so much more that he originally thought. 

"Hey," Makoto urged gently, tilting Haru's face up "Come on Haru, look at me." 

He did, slowly, his eyes soaked with tears. Makoto smiled warmly and wiped them away with his thumbs. 

"I won't ever be taken away from you, I want you to know that right now. Nothing could ever, EVER separate us so I don't want you to be scared that something will." Makoto looked downwards at his cast, " Accidents happen whether we want them to or not, and they can do a significant amount of damage and that's something I should have paid more attention to in regards to you."

Haru shook head, "No, Makoto I-" 

"Shh," he was stopped by a finger against his lips,"This took a toll on you just as much as it did me and I should've noticed that. It scared you and made you fearful and I should have done more to prevent that. You can't lie now and brush it off like it's nothing."

An uneasy "Hrm..." sounded from Haru's throat and he watched as Makoto reached down and grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers. 

"Let me say one thing though." He whispered softly, stroking the skin on the top of Haru's hand, "You can stay by my side as long as you need and help me when I need it, but let me at least do something to help you." 

He firmly set his gaze on Haru, eyeing his dark blue orbs, "I know it will take some time to get over this. We both need to recover, me physically and you mentally. So when you need to talk or if you're worried about something, don't hesitate to come talk to me, and make sure you continue to take care of yourself on top of it." 

He squeezed Haru's hand tighter, "If we help each other, then I know we'll be okay. You believe me don't you?"

In all honesty, Haru could never make sense of how well their hands fit together, like two puzzle pieces, or a perfectly crafted lock and key, and it always offered a gentle, soft, reassuring warmth.

That warmth radiated everywhere, all around them, even in Makoto's words in that things would be okay. That they would recover from this.

Haru squeezed Makoto's hand back, a soft, quiet "Yes..." leaving his lips. 

"Good," he kissed Haru's temple, "Now what do you say we both get some rest ?"

And they did, bodies settled comfortably on the sofa, Haru nuzzled against Makoto's neck, together.

Exact the way they should be. 

[the-moon-prince]

The Last Of us~Kurapika x Reader ~Chapter VII

AN: Hi my lovely fellows!

Last week I uploaded a new chapter nearly daily; unhappily from now on, I will take a little longer. I had a week of holidays, and I could permit myself to write every day. Despite that, I'll make my best effort to upload periodically! Thank you for your comprehension and support!

I wish you a pleasant read, and I hope you’ll enjoy the new chapter of my story.  (Chapter I) (Chapter II) (Chapter III) (Chapter IV ) (Chapter V) (Chapter VI) (Chapter VIII coming soon!)

Paring: Kurapika Kurta x GN! Reader

Word count: 2 040

TW: None!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"(Y/n)?!"

"Anibal!"-The named one exclaimed. 

Kurapika was extremely disoriented. Just a few instants before; they were surrounded by armed men, cornered, threatened, and ambushed. Aspiring to analyze the changes affecting his situation, he surveyed his surroundings. Except the people cornering them were just as baffled. He turned to (Y/n), desiring to have an explanation or at slightest a confirmation that everything was going for the best. Who turned to see him with their smile and a relieved look on their eyes. The unique remaining option was to trust (Y/n).

"What are you doing, band of lunatics?! Are you out of your mind?"-The fat man started to scold again.

"Boss, I-"The fusty and horribly dressed man got cut.

"But what are you waiting for? For the pigs to fly? Lower your weapons already and get away from them!"-He raged anew-"Are you blind? Don't they see that they are peers of mine?"

"Mr. Anibal! Hello!"-(Y/n) attempted to obtain the man's attention with a friendly greeting.

"Mx. (Y/n), what are you doing here. Why the hell do my workers have you like this? Since when do you come to places like these?"- It was clear to Kurapika that the man and his lover knew each other. They didn't appear to have a tense relationship. Leastwise they were out of peril. 

"We were calmly purchasing when we were interrupted in a terribly rude way."-they accused feigning outrage, or at the minimum, Kurapika knew they were pretending.-"One should not approach clients this manner!"-next they turned to the man named Richard, who was leaning against the wall in fear-"I'm so sorry Richard, I'm not saying that for you, you've always been very courteous to me."- that was a sincere regret, they felt bad that the man might feel insulted by what was just said.

While (Y/n) approached Kurapika to, after all this time, give an account, the bearded man also whispered something to his chief.

"Kurapika, everything will be fine; I know this man! I'm their doctor. I am convinced that they would allow us to leave."-Their explanation was vague. However, Kurapika recognized that the situation did not allow for details. The priority was to reach somewhere safe.

"(Y/n)."- A guttural voice called their names.

"Eh, yes?"-Their tone was more uncertain. Kurapika didn't like that.

"I can't let you go that easy. You are the one who attacked one of my dealers and stole merchandise."-Even if the nearly bald person didn't have a threatening tone, it was rather grave.

Kurapika couldn't allow it to escalate anymore. He summoned his chains and prepared to attack. (Y/n) discerned that and had to stop it.

"Kurapika, I implore you. I know how to mend this difficulty. I warrant you I will explain everything to you."-they wept lightly touching one of his hands. 

He understood that contact occurred to be crucial to (Y/n); losing it would be grave. He was full of pressure. It was clear that losing so much charge of the circumstances filled him with uncertainty. In contrast, he did not want a scarcity of trust in (Y/n) to disserve them. He lowered his hand. (Y/n) nodded with gratitude and smiled at him anew.

"Understandable. Let me speak to Mr. Rafael, please."-they requested- "I presume he will want to resolve this matter personally. It is doubtful that he would be pleased that something occurred to his doctor."-they approached, a clear threat despite the calm and friendly tone.

The fat man took a cell phone out of one of the pockets of his pants, dialed a number, put the speaker, and placed the phone on the table. Following a few seconds, a squeaky, choppy male voice was heard. Kurapika couldn't identify what was being said, as it was in a language he didn't understand.

"Mr. Rafael, Hello, it's (Y/n)."-they greeted in a much more certain tone.

"Hi, Mx. (Y/n)! A pleasure to talk to you. With what can I help you?"-the squeaky voice answered as if the person was talking to an old friend of his.

"Yes, Mr. Rafael. Your workers attacked me and my associates, without us even inciting them. Luckily your brother was present. There is a subject I require to discuss with you, please."-(Y/n) began to explain.

"An absurd action. I did not give the order to attack you at any time."-Was what the alleged "Rafael" responded. 

The tension of the men around them increased. By how he speaks, he was the leader of the presents. And considering the reciprocities (Y/n) had with him, what they had done for sure was serious-

"I'm sure of it, Mr. Rafael. It seems to me your brother did."-their tone was modest in the place of angry. It was an "innocent" accusation.

They adopted a low profile, even more considering the status of power and advantage they possessed was brought to light.

"Have you gone crazy, Anibal? Explain yourself"-

"They are the ones who stole the merchandise."-the fat man gulped trying to justify himself.

"It is true."- they added.

Kurapika's stress and fear increased again. "What were they doing? They could perfectly deny everything. It is ill-considered to confess!" doubts echoed in his mind. He was preparing to attack again.

"Except, you know me, I am a good and honorable person."-they continued- "I was preparing to rightly buy from one of your vendors. Still, when I arrived, he threatened me and doubled the agreed price. It was extortion so he could keep the excess money."- their timbre turned into indignation.- "You understand how shameful betrayals are. I am persuaded you will validate my reasons."- they finalized.

"What did you steal to get to this?"-Every time the squeaky voice directed to (Y/n), he was calm.

"Eyes."-the fat man rushed to respond.

"How many?"- was the single ask the piping voice made

"A pair."-(Y/n) rejoined with their iconic smile. Lastly applying a fearless voice.

"Just a pair? Are you telling me that my doctor was attacked for a pair of eyes?"-the person in the other line scoffed.

"I'm afraid so, Mr. Rafael."-All the cards were in (Y/n)'s favor.

"I'm so sorry, Mx. (Y/n). I can't believe my brother treated you like this because of a pair of eyes, even more considering how much you had helped my family."-I had already finished-" One pair of eyes is not enough reason for that rudeness. Don't worry, you can leave in peace."- Kurapika realized that the speeches of (Y/n) had been carefully chosen to arrive at that result. They knew the person strongly and knew how to manage him.

"I knew you would understand, is your mother doing fine?"-they asked gracefully as if everything that had just arrived didn't have any weight.

"Perfectly, thank you."-he answered.

"Me alegro, saludela de mi parte, por favor. Tenga buen día. (I'm glad, tell her I say hi, please. Have a nice day)"- (Y/n) concluded in the same language the voice used at the beginning of the call.

The person on the other end of the line hung up. The group of armed men looked at each other, knowing that what the future held would not be pleasing. 

"As this was a misunderstanding, we withdrew."- (Y/n) got up from their chair, walked over to the old man named Richard, and gave him some money-"I deeply apologize for this error, Richard, this is for you to arrange your door."-They were playing with the patience of the rest.

Did they need to have a hint of humor at that precise time? Kurapika was exhausted and stressed out of his mind; he was standing at the entrance waiting. He just wanted to leave the place for good.

"Have a good afternoon, gentlemen!"-they mocked, following Kurapika out of the store.

They entered the car, Kurapika in the passenger's seat, and (Y/n) placed the scarlet eyes safely on the back seats to eventually join him in front.

"I excuse Kurapika. I am aware this affected you greatly. As I promised, I will clarify the matter."-they sighed with an apologetic smile.

Kurapika was still irritated, and his head ached. Although, as much as he was bothered not being in control of conditions and working beside someone extra could be tedious at times, he was grateful. He could not dispute that his partner was cunning and sneaky. They knew what they were doing, and if it weren't for them, they wouldn't have the scarlet eyes at that moment; and they would probably have cuts provoked by shattered glass. He was relieved that everything ended well.

"Mr. Rafael is the head of a mafia that operates on the black market. They are mainly concerned with obtaining and trafficking merchandise."-they put their hands together. resting them on their lap, they had their gaze focused on them as they explained.-"He comes from another country and he brought his family with him, whom he entrusted to positions in the mafia. Among them was his mother, who does not speak English. The lady contracted Bell's Palsy disorder. Reasonably, being wanted personages, going to the hospital was threatening. And I provided her the treatment."-They turned to view him, making gestures with their hands as they continued to unfold.-"I mean, I could do it without raising misgivings. It is not unusual for psychiatrists to examine patients at their residencies! And psychiatrists are neurologists specialized in behavior and mental disorders! Plus, I speak Spanish as well!"-they mumbled, feeling responsible for all the trouble they just experienced.

"It's alright. I understand. Having a high-ranking person in the framework on your side is beneficial to retrieve elements of your clan. However, why didn't you told me?"-he tried not to trouble. The reasons were legitimate after all.

"I'm not sure."-they lowered their gaze again.-"I never imagined that something like this would appear. I was shallow, sorry. Thank you for understanding and trusting me, they are valuable connections for my objective." 

It was unpleasant for Kurapika to be upset with (Y / n). He didn't want to be upset.

"You're sneakier than you seem."-He offered them a sweet smile.

They laughed, he loved that laughter. He was undeniably ready to fight anyone who said their precious (Y/n)'s laugh was ugly.

"I also wasn't aware you spoke Spanish."-the blonde continued to tease.

"Well, Unilium lived in a place where the habitants speak Spanish. We also had our languages, so we spoke both."-they smiled-"I also like languages, they're amusing!" 

There were so several details that Kurapika still didn't know about them. Still, he was certain he desired to discover them.

"You are so strange (Y/n). But that's maybe why I love you."

They couldn't help but give a soft and loving smile.-"I love you the most."

[intubatedangel]

Out of Body: Chapter 3

Didn’t really feel like writing much of a resus scene after recent events, but I already had some stuff written so I worked it in where I could while expanding the story a bit more.

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

************

Jane The ambulance swung into the emergency bay of the major trauma centre, stopping a few feet beyond an assembled team of doctors and nurses. They were already in blue surgical gowns and with the coordination of professionalism and experience, they spread around the back doors and pulled them open, dragging the gurney out. Dave was still pumping the ambu bag while Jane, her sweat slicked fringe sticking to her forehead, handed over the IV bag and monitor to waiting hands before the team ran inside. “What have we got?” The trauma lead asked as he ran his eyes across Laura’s restrained body. His eyebrows raised slightly at the improvised chest tube. “Laura Beckett, 23. Involved in an RTC, sedan vs motorcycle. Fractured femur, query dislocated hip and knee. Fractured wrist as well. Multiple broken ribs and punctured lung, leading to severe haemothorax. Resulted in cardiac arrest, downtime of approximately 25 minutes, reversed after the pressure of the haemothorax was relieved. BPs still low and O2 sat’s barely over 80. Currently sinus tachy at 120.” “Beckett?” The doctor asked, not asking the question out loud. Jane simply nodded. “Ok, lets get her inside, fast beep radiology we need to get a full trauma series ASAP. Let’s get a proper chest tube in, get her on the vent and pack the rapid infuser with TXA, platelets and 2 units of O-neg.” “She’s A-positive.” Jane cut in. “Good, lets get 6 units of that up from the blood bank. Get in touch with cardiothoracics, orthopaedics and neuro for consults.” The rest of the team confirmed their orders as the gurney was pushed into the primary trauma room. After a 3 count Laura was lifted across onto the table, a flurry of action surrounding her as doctors and nurses perform the assigned tasks. The lead eased Jane back. “We’ve got it from here Jane.” She shook her head defiantly, but her voice came out in a whisper. “I’m not leaving her.” “You’ve done your job. And done it well, but you can’t help her in here. Go get cleaned up, you’ll be the first to hear when we have any news.” Jane lingered for a moment, gazing at her sisters body as nurses rapidly stripped away her clothes, discarding them into a bloody heap in one corner of the room. Then her shoulders slumped and her head bowed as she retreated from the trauma room, discarding her gloves into a bin. Dave tried to catch her attention, but she ignored him, heading towards the ladies restroom while pulling out her phone. Ashir Ashir sat at his desk, much of the room shrouded in the late-night darkness. The desk itself was lit by a powerful lamp that starkly highlighted thin tendrils of smoke as they were drawn into the small extraction unit mounted in the window. He peered through the microscope, gently applying more solder to the electronic circuit board he was working on. It wasn’t work that needed to be done right now, but he needed something to occupy his mind. He made a satisfied grunt and shifted the microscope out of the way. He leaned back, stretching and rubbing his eyes, while spinning on his chair. His gaze fell on the other desk in the room. Laura’s desk. It was cluttered, stacks of newspapers, photographs and journals were strewn about in a system that Ashir couldn’t recognise, but his journalist roommate seemed perfectly at home with the mess. The pin board hung on the wall behind the stacks was a different story. It was laid out like a true conspiracy theory board. Over a dozen profile pictures formed the centres of different sections and various colours of string linked articles and reports in a web that looked chaotic at first glance. Looking closer, and with only a small amount of guidance, it began to come together into a cohesive whole. Ashir sighed. He really hoped his roommate was wrong about all this. But even he had to admit the evidence was compelling when presented in the way she had laid it out. That was part of what worried him. She should have been back by now. Or at least have dropped him some form of message. At least she’d told him where she was going. He’d been able to get his own backups into place. She’d probably kill him if she knew about them. As that thought crossed his mind his phone began to ring. He let out a relieved sigh as he prepared to make his concern clear. That was when he saw the caller ID. His hand trembled as he answered. “Ash you were right. She’s in over her head.” Jane’s voice was tight. “What happened?” Ash was already on his feet looking for his keys. “She’s hurt Ash. She’s really hurt.” “I’m coming down there.” He pulled on his jacket then flicked off the light. “Hurry Ash.”

Laura

I heard the noises first. Alarms sounding. Orders being given. I opened my eyes, once again struck by seeing the world in that strange brightness. A nurse was above me, rocking backwards and forwards, her ponytail flicking to and fro with the motion, until she paused for a brief moment. I followed her arms, down to her hands that rested in the slight valley between my breasts.

“Still nothing, resume compressions.” Someone said. The nurses hands suddenly disappeared into my chest. CPR, I was getting CPR again. My heart had stopped once more. The way the nurses compressions passed through my ethereal form was still incredibly disconcerting, so I sat up and looked around. Doctors and nurses surrounded me, but there was a gap at my feet. I managed to scooch past them without passing through anyone, then turned to look my body.

I was naked on the table. And I didn’t look good. My chest was heavily bruised, with tubes sticking out of either side, Jane’s impromptu effort having been replaced by a proper chest tube, an identical one mirroring it. My broken arm and leg had both been splinted and bandaged, though the bandages were already stained through. A urinary catheter had been placed. I was slightly glad I hadn’t seen that happening, someone touching me in such an intimate place.

A large bore IV was in my leg, with other lines into my arms and another one near the base of my neck. Blood and saline were flowing into my body, though as I watched, a nurse pushed some drugs into the central line.

The ecg wires trailed across my chest, leading to a monitor that hug above the trauma table. The line on the monitor was flat. I looked down at my chest, seeing my lifeline still strong and thick. I also saw that my ghostly form was naked too. I instinctively tried to cover myself, despite no one being capable of seeing me.

I looked around for my clothes, shredded and discarded into one corner. I reached out to them, but of course my hand passed right through them. But there was something. A strange feeling, almost like a memory of sensation across my whole body. I reached out again, letting my hand linger within the bundle. The sensation became stronger, growing steadily, and it was almost like I could feel the clothes on me.

I took a deep breath, recalling the meditation techniques my therapist had taught me years ago. How visualising a result can help it happen. I had no idea if it would work, but I’d rather not walk around naked, even if no one could see me. I tried to hold on to the memory of my clothes as I pulled my hand out. I could still feel the clothes on me, and focused on that feeling, blocking out everything else. Slowly, I let out the breath and opened my eyes, looking down at myself. I was clothed. My dark grey t-shirt and similar coloured pants were whole, despite their real counterparts being little more than shreds before me. My black hoody was also on me, unstained by blood like the genuine article.

“We’ve got V-fib.” Someone shouted, dragging my attention back to my body. The alarm had changed, it was familiar enough that I knew what was going to happen next. A doctor, fully gowned and masked, held a pair of black paddles down against my chest. “Clear!” He said, a moment before my naked body jerked on the trauma table. I cringed at the way my legs spread slightly.

“No change. Let’s do another minute of compressions and shock her again.” A nurse immediately had her hands back on my chest, pressing it down, seemingly quite easily. Given how petite the nurse was, my ribs must be really soft.

It was almost enough to turn my stomach, and I instinctively took a few steps back. There was a momentary feeling of resistance, and suddenly I couldn’t see anything. I paused, realising that wasn’t quite right. I could see, there just wasn’t anything too see. Except the papery texture of the back of the plasterboard sheet in front of me, and the treated timbers that were the drywall studs. I was inside the wall. I took another step back, emerging into a corridor.

It was a quiet corridor, empty except for a cleaner at the far end. Yet I could still hear a voice. Quiet, but clear. It was counting. “15…16…17…18…” I grimaced slightly, then plunged back through the wall. The nurse was still pressing down on my chest, and she was mouthing the words, but more to herself. She wasn’t shouting by any stretch, in fact I would be surprised if her words would even carry to where I stood.

So, I can still hear what is happening to my body. Helpful. I glanced down, concentrating slightly to look at my lifeline. It was still strong and steady. How far can it stretch? I remembered Keith telling me to stay close, but the lifeline was thin then, insignificant compared to the almost cable thick line I could see before me now. I made up my mind. I strode across the room, towards the doors, unable to stop myself from hesitating just slightly before I walked through them. Again that slight resistance, more a reminder the wall was there, than something really stopping me, tugged as I passed through. And then I was in a different corridor, busier, but still quiet.

 I looked around, hoping to see Jane, but she was not there. I walked down the corridor, trying to figure out precisely where I was, or where I should go. I glanced at the signs, but most of them were mainly just numbers, hanging in front of cubicles or other offshoot corridors. Coloured lines were on the floor, branching out down the corridor behind me. Presumably, I thought, they must all come together at one starting point. I followed them back, dodging a nurse pushing a young man in a wheelchair, a large boot on his foot. Neither of them payed me even a sliver of attention.

 “Ok, that’s a minute. Let’s shock her again.” It was the voice of the doctor working on me. “Clear” he said a moment later. I stopped walking as I wondered if I was about to be wrenched back into my body. “Still no change. Load her up with epi, bicarb and amiodarone.” I considered going back, but my lifeline hadn’t changed. I was close enough to see the name plate on the nearby doors, ‘Reception’. Seemed like a sensible place to look for my sister.

I passed through the door and immediately sidestepped out of the way of a porter. It was much busier in here. I retreated to an out of the way corner and looked around for Jane. I couldn’t see her anywhere and was beginning to wonder if she had abandoned me and gone back to work when I saw a high-vis jacket come around the corner. It was her partner. Dave. I remembered. He held two coffee cups, putting them on a counter before reaching for his radio. I crossed the room, weaving around nurses and patients, cringing when a small girl ran through me.

Dave was already mid conversation. “…anks for sorting it. I’ll tell her then I‘ll run the rig back to base.”

“How’s she doing?” A voice said from the radio.

Dave blew out a breath between clenched teeth. “Honestly, not good.” He seemed to stare across at a pair of doors across the room. Toilets. “I mean, it is her sister after all, how many of us would be alright after seeing someone we love in that …” I left him behind as I crossed the room and plunged through the wall into the ladies restroom.

Jane stood there, leaning over a sink. Her high-vis jacket lay on the floor at her feet. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the edges of the sink. She was murmuring to herself, enough to earn a sideways glance from another woman who quickly scurried out.

“…stupid. Stubborn. Why couldn’t you just listen to me. I begged you. ‘Don’t go after him.’ But you didn’t listen. You never listen.” As I stepped closer, I could see her aura. There was a bubbling of red, but it was mostly that sickly green. As the door swung shut behind the fleeing woman, Jane let out a great shuddering sob, and tears began to fall from her face. I reached out, but my hand passed through her shoulder.

I could still hear the distant sounds of the attempt to resuscitate me. A third shock delivered. “Back in asystole. Ok, hang another round of blood products and chase up the surgical consult, if we don’t get anything back in two minutes we open her up down here.” That sounded just delightful. I glanced down at my lifeline, but it didn’t look like it had diminished.

That’s when I noticed the traces of red in the sink. Blood. My blood. As if to distract herself, Jane washed out the bowl of the sink, tears still dripping as she took deep steadying breaths. I’d seen her do it before. Fighting to assert an iron control over herself. It had always driven me crazy, especially after what had happened to Mum and Dad. But then, something happened that I had never seen before.

She lost.

Her whole body was wracked with sobs as she sank to the ground against the wall. Her hands covered her face and she drew her knees up tightly. I didn’t know what to do. So I sat down beside her. For just a moment I passed into the wall, but I grabbed that moment of resistance, held it my mind for a few seconds, and suddenly the wall felt solid. I leaned back against it, looking at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” I whispered. As expected, she didn’t respond. She continued to sob, and I could see tears leaking out. I sighed. “It was him. If you can hear me at all, hear that. It was him. Patterson. I was right. He’s a murderer, and he tried to kill me. Just like he killed them.” I could feel the anger building. I turned to look at her, as she lowered her hand, her sobs easing. “It was never your fault Jane. It was always him. He had mum and dad killed.”  

[drariellevalentine]

Medically Inevitable

Chapter 1- Frivolous First Days

Characters:- Arielle Valentine, Ethan Ramsey, Jackie Varma, Sienna Trinh

Pairing:- Ethan Ramsey x Arielle Valentine

Warnings:- PTSD

Arielle’s PoV:-

Edenbrook Hospital. Finally! My very first day of my internal medicine residency at Edenbrook. One more step, a rather huge one, towards my goal.

General PoV:-

Arielle adores the hospital from standing outside, with a proud smile on her face. She's halfway there, to be her own person, and also halfway to mend the relationship that shouldn't have been strained in the first place, but yet, she had to destroy it. She takes a deep breath. Now, she can only hope for her godfather to forgive her.

With one more look, she enters the huge hospital to find the reception desk straight ahead of her. ID cards- she needs to collect her ID before doing anything else.

A bright, chirpy doctor, smiling at everyone who's passing her, is the first thing or to be more accurate the first person to grab Arielle's attention nearing the nurses' desk. “Hey!” New intern, right?" The doctor gives her a bright smile which Arielle returns. "I'm Dr. Delarosa but you can call me Ines," she continues, her cheerful voice flowing with excitement.

"Let me help you with your badge. What's your name?" She asks smiling.

"Arielle Valentine, " I reply.

"Valentine...Valentine..." She mutters while rummaging through the bundle of ID's and then the badges. And then smiles brightly when she finds both," Ah! Here you go Dr. Valentine."

Before taking her badge, for a moment, Arielle wonders how much Ines’s cheeks must hurt at the end of the day for smiling this much. But then Aria herself smiles.

"Thank you," she smiles at Ines before her gaze flickers back to the badge.

Dr. Valentine, it says. She remembers how her father said she wouldn’t be able to make it. He never believed in her, that she could be successful in the field she wants. But now she is going to be a doctor. She did it. And her heart fills with pride. She's never been this proud of herself before. "Thank you."

As she's about to pass the waiting room, out of nowhere, an elderly woman collapses on the floor.

Arielle makes her way towards woman but before she could another doctor reaches her. He leans down to check her pulse and then looks around before his gaze stops at her. "You rookie, come here."

For a millisecond Arielle thinks of correcting him and tell her name but then decides against it, because the patient's life matters more.

She rushes to the patient's side to take a note of her vitals and tells the doctor. "Pulse is weak. She is unresponsive," Arielle says. She can feel her panic rising. But the older doctor's calm. "What was she coming for? Did she fill out a form yet?" He asks the nurse standing nearby. "No, she just walked in," the nurse replies, his features screaming tension.

"If we don't figure out what's wrong with her quickly, she'll die on this table." He says, though a bit frustrated this time. "Rookie, check her B.P." Arielle wraps a blood pressure cuff around the unconscious woman's arm, and pumps the bulb, peering at the numbers. "It's plummeting. She's hypotensive," Arielle feels panic rising more than ever. "We need to get fluid in her."

The nurses runs and gets a IV stand. As he sets the stand, Arielle checks the woman for more symptoms as does the older doctor. That's when she notices a bruise rapidly forming in her elbows. "Doctor look at the bruise. It wasn't there a moment ago," she points it out. "Are you sure?"

"Yes.", you reply. "A bruising that fast suggests the patient is hemophiliac. Good catch." He nods." Take a closer listen to her lungs."

Arielle slips the stethoscope into her ears and runs the resonator over the woman's ribs. "I can't listen anything on her left side. And her right lung is struggling," She says tensed. "Doctor she's going to suffocate." Arielle's a mess right now, tensed. But the older doctor remains collected. "Nurse we have got a code blue."

Taking a bag mask from the nurse and begins to gently pump air into the woman's lungs. He is cool and calm on the other hand Arielle's on the verge of having an panic attack. "What do we do doctor?" She asks. "Consider all the clues. It's all there. You know this, Rookie."

It hits you. “It’s a hemothorax!” "Precisely, a blood vessel ruptured and is filling her pleural cavity- ,"

"-blocking her lungs from expanding. That's why she can't breathe!" I say. " But...but we can't repair the blood vessel here."

"We'll have to do an emergency thoracotomy here to drain the cavity instead." " Nurse!" He calls and the nurse runs to them with a lung tube and a scalpel, forwarding them to Arielle. She accepts it hesitantly. The doctor pulls the woman's shirt to expose the side of her rib cage, Arielle shivers of fear.

With her hand shaking she tries to remember what she was taught. The scalpel quivers in her nervous grip. But the doctor from behind her steadies her hand. "Hey, you've got this," he whispers softly and Arielle nods trying steady her hands. "There you go, nice and easy." He says as Arielle makes a perfect incision in between the woman's ribs.

"Now the tube," He instructs.

Together, the two of them insert the chest tube and with a spurt, blood comes out draining out of her chest. She starts to breathe again.

"We...we did it!" Arielle says shocked and surprised but also happy. She's happy that she could save a live. She knew her godfather would tell her stories about saving lives but, having done it for herself, she felt exhilarated and happy.

She sees the doctor gesturing to the nurse and then instructing him what to do.

"Doctor... That was...amazing! " Arielle says happy and excited.

"Yeah, it's actually pretty amazing that you didn't get her killed." He snorts.

"Your examination was slow and not to mention superficial. You scalpel techniques-" he nods in denial," amateur at best."

"I'm sorry doctor, it's my first day."

“Well, it wouldn't have mattered to the patient’s family if she died, Dr.-" he takes her ID, "Valentine."

He gazes at it thoughtfully before piching the bridge of her nose and mumbling something. Tossing the ID back at Arielle he leaves.

"What an ass!" She exclaims angrily.

"Yeah, what an ass!" A female nurse stares at her admiringly, her eyes filled with lust, making Arielle roll her eyes.

"Don't worry. Dr. Ramsey is like this to everyone," the same male nurse from before says.

"Dr. Ramsey?! As in Dr. Ethan Ramsey?!"

"Yes. I take in you are a fan?"

"Are you kidding me? He's basically one of the reasons I wanted to be a doctor. And now you are telling me I just performed a thoracotomy with him!" Arielle says the last part a bit dramatically making the nurse laugh and walks away leaving Arielle with her thoughts alone.

She remembers meeting him a few years back, but never did she think he would act like that. She remembers him sharing his passion of medicine with everyone, and encouraging her to follow her path. Was he really the same person? Can being a doctor for 10 years really change your outlook in life that much? She's shocked!

She looks down at her clothes now having patches of blood here and there. "I need to change my outfit," she says to herself and looks around for a clock. "Shit! I'm going to be late!”, she thinks noticing the time and runs off to find the locker room. After thirty minutes of a lecture, they gets assigned to their very first case, with an intern pairing with another from the stream.

And Arielle's partner is Aurora Emery, who just happens to be ‘her boss's niece and who is not at all surprisingly, not friendly at all.

On their way to the first patient, Arielle's the one to open her mouth first, “Okay, so our first patient is in Room 532. Should we talk about how we are going to approach this case first?" “No need," she says rudely testing Arielle's patience. That Aurora Emery doesn't have the right to talk to people like this just because her aunt is the hospital chief. "Look Aurora, all I care about is the patient.” Arielle takes a breath to calm herself. " If you don't want to be nice, that's okay by me. But we're gonna put everything else aside for the people in our care."

"Suits me just fine." Her voice still cold as ice. She moves forward, keeping a few steps ahead Arielle. So much for not being egoistic.

Arielle skims through the chart for the patient’s personal details. They enter Room 532 to see the patient in there of the same age as them, not much older.

Arielle’s PoV:-

“Hi Annie! I’m Dr. Valentine and this is Dr. Emery. We’ll be your doctors today.” I nod in her direction. And Aurora smiles kindly and sweetly at the girl. Something that I didn't think she can.

" Annie, I'm going to take your vitals while Dr. Valentine asks you some questions," she says, her face still smiling.

"Before we start, is there anyone we can call for you? Being in the hospital can be a little less scary with someone by your side."

" I just moved here for grad school. My family's on the other side of the country, and I don't really know anyone yet," Annie says, her voice low.

"I just moved here too. Maybe we can look after each other." I smile brightly at her hoping to make her mood better. It works, and she returns the smile.

As Aurora checks her B.P. I ask her a few questions noticing the patches of rashes on her skin.

"Do you often suffer from itchy skin?"

"Not really. Just for the past few days."

I nod and grab her chart. " You came in here for headaches, nausea and vertigo."

"And also my plans keep cramping up."

“My palms also keep cramping up though.”

"Have you ever had these symptoms before?"

"Never. The timing sucks. I even had to cut my vacation to Indonesia short for it."

"You did the right thing. Vertigo on a unknown place can be very dangerous." Aurora says.

"Not to mention how scary it have been.

"It still is." Annie pauses for a second. "How long will I have to stay here?"

"We'll try our best to make it quick," I say confidently, and the girl relaxes a bit.

"Sorry, I panic easily when I'm stressed out."

I notice a bruise on her ankle while checking her for any other symptoms or anything else that could give me a clue.

"How did you get this cut on your ankle, Annie?"

"Oh that! I cut it on some coral while I was scuba driving."

"You are a scuba driver?"

"I'm still learning. I went to get my driver's license while I was on my trip. But I never got it though."

"Okay, last question. Are you allergic to any medication?"

"No, none that I know of."

Arielle notes everything down. "Thank you Annie, you did a nice job here." Both Arielle and Aurora smiles at her.

"Thanks. You guys are really nice. Honestly, I was hoping a old grumpy guy."

"So was I.", I laugh.

"We'll let you get some rest," Aurora says before getting out of the room following Arielle.

"Dr. Valentine. I don't think I'm ever going to get tired of hearing it."

" I on the other hand, am already bored of it," Aurora says, her friendly behavior gone again.

Sighing, I focus on the job.

" We should do a screen for any viruses or bacteria. She could have picked up something on her trip."

"Not the worst idea. We’ll run a full workup on her vitals."

And before I can say anything else, Aurora's pager goes off. It's her aunt. She's paging her to her office.

"I need to go." Her cold voice announces.

"Seriously?! " This time I can feelher anger rising. Was she really ditching her? It's our case. We should solve it together. Not me alone!

"I'll tell you what. When the chief wants to see you, I'll run the labs. Until then...”, she never finishes the sentence but leaves.

General PoV:-

Half an hour later, Sarah, a nurse at the hospital, the same one who was admiring Dr. Ramsey shamelessly, hands Arielle a lab report. Annie's lab report.

Going through the report once Arielle ask to give Annie an antibiotic, twice a day, 1200 mg in total. She tells it to Maria, another nurse, a bit elderly but nonetheless friendly and sweet.

Before lunch she decides to check on the other patient she had. A five year old child who has a hole in heart. Poor boy. Life is being unfair to him. He should have been playing and having fun but here he was stuck with his medications.

The last time she checked on him, he was all sad and gloomy, sitting on his bed alone. So this time Arielle decides to surprise him with a treat that'll make him happy.

That's what Arielle is doing now, standing in front of the vending machine. Buying four different candies, which are now resting in the pocket of her lab coat, she is standing there confused of which chocolate bar to pick as the fifth treat.

Twix... Kitkat... And an unknown chocolate bar. She guesses it to be some American snack. Her eyes runs over all the chocolate options before she sighs.

"Having trouble choosing yourself a treat, Rookie?" A cold, nonchalant voice says from behind her.

She turns around to find the same doctor with whom she performed the thoracotomy, Dr. Ramsey.

"Dr. Ramsey... It's not for me, it's for one of a patient of mine." She says. When she doesn't get any reply from him she herself continues. "He is here to treat a hole in his heart. His surgery is due tomorrow and he is really scared right now. Poor little guy, he should be enjoying playing with toys but instead stuck here. So I thought of buying him a little something that will cheer him up."

For a second, she thinks that she saw him smile but it was gone to soon to revaluate.

She turns to the vending machine again. "I was always a Geysers girl myself.” “He however”, pausing to turn back and point at the boy, “doesn't seem like a kid who'll like Geysers."

She says looking at him. She notices him staring at that chocolate bar and suddenly an idea strikes her mind. "Why don't you help me choose one, doctor? Please," she requests, way too cutely for anyone to refuse.

He sighs but yet takes a step forward towards the machine. He stands there for a minute going through the option. His eyes flickering at the chocolate bar which makes Arielle think he's going to choose it but rather he settles for a Kitkat.

When it pops out, he hands it to Arielle and walks away. With the remaining coins, Arielle quickly buys that chocolate bar.

"Dr. Ramsey...wait!" She quickens her pace to catch him and bumps into him when he suddenly stops resulting in the free fall of her charts.

She leans down to pick it up but rather the chocolates and candies falls down from her pocket.

Sighing Ethan kneels down to help her. "Jeez, Rookie, are you here to treat the kid or give him diabetes?"

Arielle gives him a incredulous look while picking her things. "It's just a few candies!"

Ethan hands her the candies he picked up and then stands. Arielle too stands up after picking her charts and then hands out the chocolate bar to Ethan, who raises his brows.

"I saw you staring at it," she starts to explain, " Seemed like you like it."

She tosses him the bar with a sweet smile, " You know it's okay to treat yourself time to time."

"And you know, you are never too old to have a chocolate," she smirks at him but Ethan is too surprised at her gesture that he barely notices it.

"Uh, thank you Dr. Valentine...I guess," he says awkwardly.

Arielle's PoV:-

Dr. Ramsey turns around and leaves. As I turn around I bump into another person. “What's with me and bumping today.”, I think. "Sorry, my bad!" I apologize to the intern with whom I bumped. "Ah, no, all mine... I'm sorry," he stammers a bit. “Hey, I saw you at the orientation. Arielle Valentine, right?” I nod.

"I'm Landry Olsen," he forwards his hand which I take. "Was that Dr. Ramsey?" He points towards the elevator. "Yes." "Wait, you’re the intern who performed the thoracotomy with him this morning. Aren't you?" He asks surprised and exited.

“Yeah, and he ripped me a new one in front of everyone," I say sadly. "It was so damn-" "Lucky!" He interrupts me in between. I bet that, well I think, being insulted in front of a whole crowd is anything but lucky. But I don't find it important to tell him.

Before I can say anything else my phone chimes with an alarm I set. "Sorry, I'll have to go. Talk to you later," I say and turn towards the stairs. “Okay, time to check on Annie, she should have taken the medication by now.”, you think to yourself. You enter her room to find Annie scrolling through her phone.

“Hey Annie.” “Hi Dr. Valentine, a nurse just gave me some medication a while back.” “Good. So, tell me more about yourself. We didn’t really have a chance to talk.”“I just moved here last week from California. I got accepted into Harvard for law.....law...sch...”

Suddenly, Annie’s heart monitor goes flat! Annie!..Annie!” You press the call button and yell Code Blue, performing chest compressions. Another intern burst into the room saying, “Room 501 just called a Code Blue before you, keep up the chest compressions. What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know, she was talking and speech started slurring. Then her heart stopped.”The tall intern pulls back Annie’s gown, revealing hives. You gasp. “She must have been allergic to the antibiotic I prescribed her!”

“We’ll have to defibrillate her ourselves; we’ll start her at 300 volts.” She takes your place of performing CPR, while you pull the cart close to the bed.

You open her gown and place the paddles after gelling their undersides, as she pauses CPR. “One below the right collarbone and one below the left armpit. Done!” You set the charge to 300 volts. “Do it!” Annie’s body spasms as you defibrillate her. “Clear!” You set them aside as she continues chest compressions. “Come on!.....Come on Annie! Come back to us!” You hear a beep, you turn towards the monitor. Annie’s heartbeat returns, accelerated but constant! “Yes!” “You are sooo lucky, Dr....”

“Arielle Valentine. I’ll maintain compressions while you push an epinephrine injection and intubate, Dr....” “Jackie Varma.”, she says while intubating. You continue with your compressions. “What the HELL is going on here, Rookie?”

You let out a short squeal in surprise. Turning to look at him, you see him leaning on the doorframe glaring at you. “Dr. Ramsey! Don’t worry, everything’s under control. My patient was allergic to the antibiotics I prescribed her.”

“At least you’re owning up to your mistake.” You see Dr. Ramsey turn to Jackie, pushing an epinephrine injection into her thigh. “Now, we intubate.” You see her lubricate the tube before slowly feeding it through her mouth.

“Good work, Dr....” “Varma. I heard Dr. Valentine calling a Code Blue, since Room 501 called one before, I decided to step in and help.”

“The patient is very lucky you were here. I’m not sure Dr. Valentine here could have handled it.” You bit your lip, your face falling. “Thank you Dr. Ramsey, although Dr. Valentine performed as well.”

He scoffs and politely tells her to go back to her patients. “And you... you need to have a long, hard think about if you are prepared to be here. This isn’t med school, this is the real world. It doesn’t matter that the patient didn’t know that she was allergic or it is your first day. Whether your patients live or die are on you.” “Yes, Dr. Ramsey.”, you bit your lip in shame so hard that you start drawing blood. Luckily, he doesn’t notice. “There are no room for mistakes or excuses. You can’t expect the patient’s family to accept the reason of”-

“Dr. Ramsey? A petite intern is standing near the door. “Wow, someone who isn’t tall! I thought everyone were basketball players here!”, you think to yourself. “Yes?”, he asks, the annoyance on his face clearly visible. “A nurse said to me that another nurse said to him that Dr. Hirata said to him that Chief Emery wants to see you.” He groans, “Interns!” He swiftly walks out and turns a corner.

“Thank God for Dr. Hirata!”, you thank the universe for this distraction. “Yeah, but too bad that Chief Emery didn’t actually need Dr. Ramsey.”, she says with a mischievous smirk. “Wait What?”

“I saw Dr. Ramsey chewing you out, just as bad as your lip, and thought that girl needs a little saving.”, she says nonchalantly. “Damn! You’ve got nerve!”, I praised her, impressed by her courage to lie to THE Dr. Ramsey. “Aww! Thanks, it was nothing. I’m Sienna or Dr. Trinh, whatever floats your boat. “I’m Arielle Valentine, and I’m also glad that not every doctor is a basketball player!” She laughs.

“Hey, a bunch of us interns are meeting up at a bar across the street, Donahue’s. You should come too, even Dr. Ramsey hangs out there.” “I’ll be there.”

“Awesome! Come to the locker room once your shift ends. I’ll be waiting. Byeee!”

General PoV:-

Arielle can’t help but think about her arguments with her father as Dr. Ramsey’s words come back to her. “And you... you need to have a long, hard think about if you are prepared to be here. This isn’t med school, this is the real world. It doesn’t matter that the patient didn’t know that she was allergic or it is your first day. Whether your patients live or die are on you.”

Arielle starts to doubt herself, whether cutting off most contact with her family and Naveen was worth it. Especially for something she isn’t good at. Her mind starts to remember her 18th birthday, specifically the huge argument that followed after her announcement of becoming a doctor, “or at least hoping to.”, she thought.

Tears start pooling in her eyes and she ducks into a nearby supply closet. She can hear her father’s words whispered in her head. “How could you do this! We’ve been talking about you and your brother taking over the family law firm someday! Why would you tell us now! Do you know how many prestigious universities and colleges are fighting to provide a full scholarship to the great Alessandro Raines’s daughter!” Tears start running down her blush tinted cheeks, smearing the eyeliner and mascara she had done in the morning. Her pager beeps after some time. She darts into the restroom and fixes her makeup and continues her shift.

Where's is the freaking elevator? She angrily mutters to herself in the quest of finding the elevator.

"Hey, are you lost too?" An intern in a wheelchair asks her. He is coming from the opposite direction of her.

"Yes," Arielle gives a sheepish smile.

"Me too."

"Trust me this place doesn't look this huge from outside." Arielle says and he giggles.

"Any idea how to get to the elevator?" He asks looking around.

"Nope. I'm looking for it too," Arielle sighs. "How does everyone else seem to already know where to go?""And what to do..." He says sadly.

"Say, are you two lost? I can show you the main hall then," and elderly patient says coming from the same direction as Elijah.

"Thanks! As long as it's not much trouble for you ma'am," Elijah smiles at her brightly.

"No trouble Dr. Taylor makes me take twelve laps of the floor every day so I don't go stir-crazy!" She smiles back. "Come with me," She says and starts to walk and the lost two interns follows her.

"Here you go. This elevator can take you on your way," she nods at the elevator which is currently resting on this floor.

"Thank you ma'am! You are a lifesaver," Elijah says.

"Really, thank you," Arielle smiles at her before getting in the elevator with Elijah.

As the elevator starts moving down, something strikes in Arielle's mind.

"Oh my God! I know what's wrong with Annie!" She says and presses the 3rd floor button.

"Wait, what's wrong? And who's Annie? " Elijah asks confused but before Arielle can reply the lifts halts to stop.

"Sorry, gotta go! I'll explain it to you later!" Arielle gets out of the lift while paging Dr. Ramsey.

Ten minutes later, he enters room 532, where Arielle is talking with Annie.

"You paged me," his cold voice rang through the room which grabbed the attention of both the woman.

"I solved the case," Arielle says happily.

"I'll be the judge of that."

"I too want to know what is wrong with me," Annie says in between them and with that Arielle starts to explain what she found out while questioning Annie occasionally, when needed.

"I'm going to write her prescription and get her medications ready," Arielle feels to Ethan once they both where outside the patient's room.

"Don't bother," Dr. Ramsey says nonchalantly, handing her a paper.

She opens it to find a medical prescription, prescribing all the medicines that she was about to order for Annie. "You knew what's wrong with her?" She asks confused and he nods.

"Then why didn't you treat her?" She asks a bit angrily this time.

"I thought to give you time till 11 o'clock to solve it."

"I- Well, thanks for giving me a chance," Arielle says calming her anger.

And he raises his brows at her, "You’re not angry?"

"Honestly, I am. But again, I'm not going to learn anything if someone is holding my hand." She answers.

"My thoughts exactly."

Just then Aurora comes there to see Arielle talking with Ethan, with a prescription in her hands. Her eyes moves to the room where Annie is staying to Annie laying happily in her bed.

"You presented the case without me." Aurora says angrily once she's beside Arielle.

And that's when Arielle remembers that she had a partner. "I'm doomed," she thinks to herself before she hears Ramsey scolding Aurora.

"Where where you and what where you doing when Dr. Valentine was solving the case here alone?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose he continues, "This assignments aren't optional..."

He keeps lashing out at Dr.Emery so Arielle decides to help her out.

"Sorry, Dr. Emery, I should have kept you updated on the case," She interrupts Ethan who angrily mutters something under his breathe.

Aurora at first glares at her angrily but after understanding Arielle is giving her an out she speaks," It's okay. I wasn't there. So it is your win."

Ethan turns to Arielle this time. "Dr. Valentine, this hospital runs on communication. Keep each other apprised."

He says before walking out to the other direction.

Your shift soon grinds to an end. You head to the locker room.

"Get ready!!" Sienna exclaims excited as soon as Arielle enters into their locker room."Woah! Calm down, girl!," Arielle smiles brightly at her. "Did you bring something to wear?" She asks and Arielle turns around from her locker with a cowl neck backless maroon top and a pair of black skinny jeans. " What do you think?" She shows it to Sienna."You'll look beautiful in it. Go and put it on! I want to see you in it!" She literally pusher Arielle into the changing stalls.

Within minutes Arielle gets out of the stall. “How do I look?""You look gorgeous," she compliments her. If anyone else said this Arielle wouldn't have believed it but Sienna's compliment felt genuine to her. "Is anyone else going to join us?" Arielle asks as they exit the hospital building. "Yes, they are already in the bar waiting for us," she says, her excitement never decreasing. It takes them five minutes to walk to the bar from the hospital.

"Hi, guys!" Sienna greets as soon as they reach a table. There are three more interns there. Arielle saw them at the orientation, they are internal medicine residents, same as her. Also, two of them are Landry and Jackie, she already met them."This is Arielle," she introduces Arielle to everyone. "Hi!" Arielle waves at everyone before taking a seat beside Jackie and Sienna sits beside Elijah and next to him is Landry. Soon a waiter brings a tray full of shots to their table and they bond over it.

Hours after, Arielle feels a pair of eyes looking at her. She looks around to find a pair of turquoise blue eyes locked on hers. "I'll buy us the next round," Arielle says and get up before anyone else can say anything. "Anything wrong Dr.Ramsey?" She asks when she's nears him at the bar. "No, I-" he pauses."I was just looking how different you look in the outer world." Just then the bartender interrupts to ask if Arielle needs something. "A round of shots and," she looks at Ethan's glass trying to figure out what he is drinking," two scotches,neat." She smiles at the bartender. The bartender comes back either her orders and she passes one of the glasses bearing the scotch to Ethan. "Why neat instead of on the rocks?" He asks accepting the drink. "Because ice changes the flavor."

"Correct," he says impressed. " You know you can't bribe me into favoring you, right?" He nods at the drink. "It's just a thank you drink," she replies.” “Thank you, for what?" " For giving me another chance."

Ethan’s PoV:-

As she talks about some patient, he can't help but study her face. It feels like I know her, I've seen her somewhere before. Her soft diamond face, blushing cheeks. Her long jet black hair, the end of which is ombréd with violet, the same violet as her eyes- everything about her seems too familiar. I can't help but look at how pretty she is looking right now. Her hair covering half of her face and those bright violet eyes peeking from beneath it those beautiful long lashes. Get a hold on your thoughts, Ramsey! She's your intern for god’s sake!

"Anything for you, Ethan?" Reggie asks after bringing Arielle her tray of shots. "Two specials, Reggie." "Only for you Ethan." "You are on first name basis with the bartender?" She asks me after Reggie is gone. “I come here everyday since my intern year. So I know him for a long time," I answer. "You don't have anyone waiting at home?"

I hesitate for a moment but then decide to change the topic by answering. “I'll come here even when I do. I need some buffer between hospital and the world. An air lock." "Don't take your job home, Valentine." "I'll keep that in mind. But you still didn't answer my question." She says. She's not one to forget. I sigh. “No, no one's waiting for me at home tonight." Thanks to Reggie for saving me from any further questions from her, if she has any.

After Reggie places our drinks I hand one to her.

"Try it."

She looks at it for a moment, probably deciding whether or not to drink.

"It's great! Better than any other drink I've had," she says slightly surprised making me smirk.

“Either you are sucking up to me or you have an excellent taste as an intern." I smirk.

"I'd like to think it's the second one." She grins and then turns around to find her friends.

"I think I should go. My friends are waiting for me. Good night, Dr. Ramsey.” She says and I nod.

Arielle’s PoV:-

After two hours, and three more rounds of shots, the group makes their way out.

"We'll have to be back here after four more hours only," Arielle says checking the time on her phone.

"The apartment I share with my boyfriend is on the other side of the town. I will barely be able to sleep for two hours," Sienna says sadly.

"I'd be damned to sleep for two hours. The apartment I stay in is above a salsa club," Jackie sighs.

"The apartment I rented doesn't have a lift, so I had to settle with the smallest one-bed room apartment on the ground floor. There's hardly any space there," Elijah says.

"Guys!" Sienna grabs their attention. "Maybe I am saying this because I'm drunk. But what if the five of us rents an apartment together?" She suggests.

"Renting an decent apartment alone in Boston may be quite expensive. But if we five split it among us, the price won't be much more than we are already paying for our hellholes." Jackie nods in support.

"That's probably a good idea." Landry supports her too.

As the group starts discussing about it, Arielle looks at them thoughtfully.

She never thought of moving in with people she’ve known for only a day, but fate seems to have different plans for her.

[heartbreakgrill]

ER: Room 6; Calum Hood/Michael Clifford (?) Pt. 1

description: in which you’re on the night shift, covering for a nurse in the ER, when a patient and his band is admitted into your room.

a/n: this is the intro to a new series! Should your love interest be Cal or Mike? Let me know!

The computer chair emitted annoyingly consistive squeaks, the gears grinding as you rocked back and forth. The squeaking was accompanied by the clicking of the mouse as you dragged cards across the computer screen. You gnawed on your bottom lip, pupils dilated from the bright light of the computer screen. It was a relatively quiet night in the ICU, only half a dozen or so of patients sleeping soundly across the third floor. You were wrapped up in a too-large zip-up jacket, the hospital-provided blue scrubs not-so flattering on your figure. A patient had vomited on you earlier, then you vomited on yourself while running for the bathroom. It had only been halfway through your 24-hour shift, and you couldn’t go all the way across the city for a new set of scrubs.

Oh, and, the only available size for the scrubs was a men’s large. The strings were tied as tight as possible, pant legs rolled up. With this outfit and the amount of fly-always surrounding your face, you looked like a hot mess. You were covering for a friend who was sick, and your 12 hour shift turned into this 24 hour one. It was hour 8, and you were becoming increasingly bored. You and two other nurses were working the night shift, along with 2 doctors who circulated between here and the ER. All had been calm, though.

You continued to play solitaire, occasionally sipping at your hot tea, chowing down a granola bar. But, with the ding of the elevator, your boss and chief resident of the hospital, Dr. Greene, stepped out into the dimly lit reception area. You quickly stood, shrugging the jacket up around your shoulders better. You looped the abandoned stethoscope around your neck, grabbed two charts, and stuck a pen behind your ear.

“Evening, Y/N,” he stopped at the counter, heels of hands holding him into it.

You acted surprised, pushing your loose hair from your face. “Oh, hey, Dr. Greene. I was just about to do rounds.“

“Are you busy then? Could you get Nina to do that?” He gestured to your companion who was snoozing away with her head in her hands on the other side of the round desk area.

“I could, but may I ask why?” You politely responded, all too hopeful that he didn’t need you in the ER, but-

“Nurse Hathaway went home sick. Throwing up everywhere.” The corner of his lip tugged down in a disgusted-like expression. “Could you come help out a little?”

“Uh, yeah, sure, let me just-“

I threw up and didn’t go home sick, you thought, shaking awake Nina, informing her of the change, and collecting your things from the desk. Dr. Greene didn’t wait for you, already loading himself into the elevator and riding down to the ER. You took that opportunity to slip from the moccasins youd had on your feet. You tugged on tennis shoes and quickly punched a finger into the elevator que.

Moments later, you were pushing through the chaos of patients and stepping into the break room. You greeted the soap opera on the tv, the empty Chinese food cartons on the coffee table, and the sleeping doctor face down on the couch. Quietly, you set your bag on the chair beside him and left the room. You approached the counter, kneading your hands together. The ER made you nervous, which is why you chose to work in the ICU, but you had interned down here for a year.

It was loud, machines beeping, sometimes people screaming or crying. Because it was one of the five hospitals in LA, it was often busy with junkies or gangsters. You’d been caught by a gun on the back of your hip once, threatened to be stabbed, but overall rescued by the security around every corner. It was horrible.

You rapped a knuckle on the counter, tucking more loose hair behind your ears and carefully spinning the rings in them as you said, “What’s up, Frankie? Got anything for me?”

“Oh, Nurse Y/L/N, what’re you doing here?” Frankie, the receptionist, spun around in her chair. She chewed loudly on some bubblegum, spinning a pen in her hand.

“I’m Hathaway’s replacement. Got anything?” You repeated.

“Yeah, you can take over rooms 5-8. They’re empty, but there’s some people out in the waiting area. Not too much, its pretty slow except for the two trauma rooms being busy.” Frankie pointed off in each direction as she spoke.

You nodded, pushing yourself off the counter. You picked up a clipboard, took the pen from behind your ear, and hit the door to the waiting area open with your hip. Your eyes took in the four people waiting to be admitted, all tagged along with by one person or, in the sickest looking man’s position, three. You noticed the worried looks on their faces, the pale and clammy skin of the hunched over one, and immediately stepped towards them.

“Hi, I’m Nurse Y/L/N. I’m gonna be taking care of you today. If you follow me I’m gonna get you a room, okay?” You crouched down to be at eye level with the sick boy, whose blond hair made him look even lighter. He weakly nodded and you stood at the same time the dark-haired one did. “Can he walk?”

The question was answered when he stood and nearly fell on top of you. His arms slung around your shoulders and you caught myself on your heels. The three others grabbed him, pulling him off of you.

“Let me grab a wheelchair,” you walked to the corner of the room where a rack of wheelchairs were. You popped one open and helped situate the boy into it. You gestured for the others to follow, the dark haired one falling in step with you.

He was flustered, hair shaggy with worried hands shoved into his hoodie pockets. “He’s been sick for a few days, but it got really bad last night. Said his chest was hurting and he was really short of breath. He doesnt have, like, heart or chest problems, so we got worried.”

You stopped outside of the room and he took it as his cue to open the door. He did, you thanked him, and stepped inside. Your lips cracked into a smile, “You should be worried even he did have chest and heart problems.”

The boy let out a shuddered laugh, skin sticky with sweat. “y-yeah.”

You shut the door and stepped up to the bed, “Can you help me get him up here?” They all did, hands shaky and faces weary. “Okay. Go ahead and take a seat. I have to do a physical evaluation before I get a doctor. I need to know what information to present a doctor with.”

“His names Michael, by the way,” the dark haired one added once they all nodded with approval to your plans. “I’m Calum. Hood, his last names Clifford.”

“You already did paperwork in the waiting area, right?” You carefully brushed Michaels hair from eyes, peeling them open to shine your flashlight in them. His eyes responded with dilation, a positive sign.

“No? No one really told us anything,” the tall blond responded.

You huffed, rolled your eyes, but tried not to look annoyed for your patient’s. “Okay, why dont one of you go to the front desk and ask for an information sheet. You’ll need to fill it out for him. i dont think he’s in any shape to hold a pen-“

You had been roaming your hands around his body, taking his blood pressure, peering at the back of his throat. Now, you were checking his pulse, and noticed that his fingernails were blue. You glanced back up at his lips, hearing the door open and close. The blond was gone, doing what you told him to. Michaels lips were blue.

You checked his blood pressure on the paper and frowned. It was normal, but you continued by taking his temperature. It was 104.2. You quickly unwrapped the stethoscope from your neck and lifted his shirt. He shuddered at your cold fingertips, causing a wave of shivers to wrack his body.

“Sorry, sh, its okay,” you cooed, hearing your voice drowned out by the quickness of his heartbeat. Keeping yourself cool, calm, and collected, you took the buds from your ears and tucked it around your neck. “Okay, I am going to get a doctor.“

You slipped from the room before they could question your flushed face. Quickly, you turned the corner from your assigned rooms and walked towards the desk, where a white coat was signing papers.

“Dr. Greene?” You stopped before him, “I have possible pneumonia in 6. He’s struggling to breath and I’m worried he’ll go into respiratory distress if we dont get him hooked up.”

Greene choked on his coffee and tore the clipboard from your hands. “Alright, lets get going.”

You took twice as many strides, shorter than the doctor who didn’t wait for you. The two of you calmed your exposures outside the room, not wanting to scare the boys inside. The blond was back with his own clipboard, scribbling and murmuring with the other two.

They nudged each other to pay attention when Dr. Greene arrived. You smiled politely at them, moving to stand across from Dr. Greene. “Michael Clifford, fingernails and lips are blue, coughing like crazy but no signs of blood. Chills, temperature of 104.5, blood pressure is 160 over 120, heartbeat is quick, but I didn’t have time to check because I came for you.”

Dr. Greene reached for the blood pressure equipment and took it again, eyes widening when he showed you the 100/120. “Okay, lets get him IVed, put a nasal cannula for oxygenation, order some blood tests, a chest x-ray, pulse oximetry, and a sputum test. Let me know what you happens and I will be back to help evaluate further instructions.”

“Okay, thank you,” you got to work, quickly wrapping a band around the left arm of your patient. This one was blank of tattoos, but still pretty thick with muscle. You couldn’t deny he was a handsome man, despite the blue lips, pale skin, and sweaty exterior.

You briefly heard Dr.Greene informing Michael’s friends of what was happening when the patient himself mumbled something. You quirked a brow, hummed, and leaned closer as you began to set up the nasal cannula. “What’s happening?”

“Hi, Michael,” you spoke gently, “my name is Nurse Y/N. Your friends brought you in because they were worried about you. Turns out, they were right to be. Your BP dropped to 100/120, your skin is blueing, your heartbeats rapid, inhale is clouded, and temperature is 104.5.”

“They actually care about me?” He weakly chortled, immediately coughing into his hands afterwards. You didn’t fault to notice the blood and carefully helped him settle back into the pillows.

“Hey, here,” you grabbed a cloth, wetted it under the sink, and carefully blotted at his hands, his lips.

He briefly smiled at you, eyes barely cracked open. “Youre really pretty.”

You blushed, scrunching up your nose as you set up fluids to run through his system. He was dehydrated, and you didn’t need a doctor to tell you that. “Thanks, Michael.”

You turned to leave, nodding at the boys as you passed. You found the telephone on the wall beside the room and dialed the memorized numbers. Soon, you were back in the room, pulling up the handles of Michael’s bed. You hooked his IV bag to the rod sticking up in the back, hung the clipboard by the front rung, and helped Calum push the bed through the door.

The two of you loaded the elevator, your eyes focused on the fluttering lashes on the sleep patient sleeping soundly below you. Calum was staring at the floor, eyes glassy with worry.

“Hes going to be okay, Calum. Worst case scenario, he ends up in the ICU for 4-6 days and Ill be watching him.” You giggled, smiling wider when Calum chortled.

“I thought you worked down here?” He twisted his hands on the handles, eyes fluttering around the elevator. Suddenly, it ringed and the doors opened.

You pushed along behind him, instructing him on which door to enter. “I was just covering for someone. I’m usually stationed in the ICU.”

“Oh,” Calum responded. You told him to take a seat in the waiting area and checked in with the x-ray administrators.

When Michael was wheeled into the room and transferred to the x-ray cot, you turned to join Calum. You sat in the chair beside him, arms crossed.

“How old are you?” He turned to ask.

“Why?” You shook your head, an amused expression on your face.

“Well, if he’s gonna be in the ICU for 4-6 days, I’m going to be there, too. Might as well get to know you before I’m up your ass for the next week.”

You liked this guy, and this unworried side of him. You could tell his humor would have you bent at the waist, head thrown back in laughter. You lifted a brow, smirked, and said, “Bold of you to assume I’m not going to be up your ass.”

“Try me.”

A beat of silence passed, both of your eyes turned away from one another, “I’m 23.”

Calum tilted his head towards you and smiled, “23. Youre young.”

“graduated early, top of my class,” you shrugged your shoulders with pride on your chest.”What about you? What do you do for a living?”

“Well, I’m surprised you weren’t fangirling when I introduced myself.” Amused with your twisted face, he continued, “I’m in a band. 5 Seconds of Summer. I play bass.”

You suddenly noticed his accent, which seemed to be faded from years in the US, “That makes, strangely, lots of sense. I can see you playing bass.”

He had huge dimples which deepened. “Maybe you can actually see me someday.”

“Woah, Hood, lets get through this x-ray first.”

[mo-nighean-rouge]

You Can Call Me- IV

About a million years ago, @ianmuyrray asked for “FAKE MARRIED AND PREGNANT DO IT” based on the trope prompt below. This is what you get, friend. Some characters show up that you might like, idk.

I didn’t really know when I would have this ready, but then I caved to some writing peer pressure from @lady-o-ren recently, and asked @whiskynottea and @isitgintimeyet for some beta TLC and here we are.

Modern AU: Inspired by a Fanfiction Trope Mash-up prompt - Bodyguard and secret relationship. A look at the life of Prime Minister Claire Beauchamp behind closed doors.

Previously: Part I | Part II | Part III | AO3 | Masterlist

Claire reached for him, hands trembling as she swept her thumb across the cut under his eye.

He hissed at the contact against the open wound, but couldn’t find the energy to truly mind. He basked in her touch, preserved for him after all.

“Oh, Baby,” her voice wavered.

Before Jamie could answer, Claire went limp in his arms, dead weight held up only by her oxters draped over his elbows.

Part IV

Jamie felt like he was swimming through the thick and sterile air as he strode purposefully down the endless hallway. It wasn’t Claire’s weight in his arms that slowed him, but the hollow agony in his chest each time he glanced down at her still form sprawled in his arms. Her limbs swung uselessly with his hurried gait. He couldn’t even protect her head properly as it thumped against his shoulder.

Murtagh had guided the yacht to shore in only minutes, but time had stretched mercilessly ahead as Jamie waited, exhausting the possibilities to coax a response from Claire.

The back-up officers they had radioed had been waiting on the dock in full force, more than equipped to drag the barely stirring forms of Randall, Wolverton, and their bloody goons into police cars.

“Let’s go,” Jamie had commanded the first unoccupied officer he passed.

“But Agent…” the man had squabbled, eyes darting around for someone of higher authority to disagree.

“Drive, damn ye,” Jamie had insisted. He wouldn’t wait for an ambulance to push through the growing crowd when they had been only streets away from the hospital.

Jamie had ducked into the back of a patrol car with Claire stretched over him, Murtagh having promised to report back once he resolved matters at the scene.

He had patted the perspiration from her face and felt for her weakened pulse as the car’s sirens drowned out the mad thoughts rushing through his head. As his fingers had run through her gnarled curls, they had come into contact with a harsh knot on her head, the swelling worsening as time passed.

Jamie’s rapid thoughts matched the pace of his steps as he finally burst through the last set of doors.

Several faces looked up as they entered the confined space. “Please,” Jamie rasped without taking a new breath.

Registering the pallor of Claire’s countenance, an orderly turned to pull a hospital trolley forward.

Much as he didn’t want to let go of her, Jamie laid Claire delicately on the trolley as the staff around him rolled off questions and phrases he couldn’t process.

“By Christ!” The young man’s eyes widened as he examined Claire’s face while fastening a blood pressure cuff around her bicep.

The nurse taking her vitals followed his gaze, her own face going a shade paler. She stepped to face Jamie as the rest of the party rolled the bed down the hall. She stepped in front of him, her badge reading “Phaedre Cameron, Staff Nurse” prominent.

Jamie allowed an infinitesimal nod as his feet set into motion underneath him. “Alexander Malcolm,” he responded over his shoulder as he made his way past her.

The nurse held him back before his steps could quicken to the pace of the trolley as it carried Claire beyond double doors. “Are you family?” she asked briskly.

“Please,” Jamie said again, barely sparing a glance at her as the attendants pushed his heart away from him. “She carries my child,” he said softly, rising to his toes to keep track of her curls through the miniscule windows as they disappeared further down the hall.

“So you’re her husband?” Her voice returned, warily following his gaze through the glass. She surely had recognized the leader of her country by now, but would know of no such relationship.

Jamie grunted, but did not argue. She wasn’t altogether wrong.

The nurse hesitated, nodding before finally leading him beyond the doors. They caught up with Claire and the other nurses just as they rounded the corner into a secluded area.

She left his side to confer with the doctor leading operations, each stealing glances at Jamie as their conversation grew more serious.

Chaos. Monitors flashing, machines beeping, more wires attached to Claire than he could count. He wished he could touch her, hold her. Was she in pain? Or worse, beyond registering the sensations tethering her to life? He folded sloppily into a nearby chair as his legs gave way.

He yearned for her eyes to fly open and for her to give them all a tongue lashing for focusing on her and not checking on her child.

Christ. The bairn. Jamie pitched forward and put his head between his knees, balancing precariously on the edge of the chair. That she be safe, she and the child.

He fell to his knees and raised his chin to the heavens, the motion around him falling away.

The room held its breath in anticipation, creating a silence broken only by the steady pulsing of the heart monitor.

The beat sounded steady, for all Jamie knew. But after a few minutes it was rivaled by the echo of a faster, fluttering rhythm, nearly stopping Jamie’s own heart.

It was the first time their child had made its presence known. There’d scarcely been time to schedule a scan as of yet, though they had estimated how far along Claire might be.

Taing dhia.

The roomful of people trickled out of the door, leaving only three occupants. Four, Jamie scolded himself absently.

The lead doctor snapped his gloves off and turned to face Jamie as he waited in the corner in agony.

A sheen of perspiration glowed over the man’s dark skin as he drew closer. An easy smile rested on his face. “Alex, is it?”

Jamie’s hand rose instinctively to grasp the other man’s. He nodded, focus not trailing away from the chest rising and falling across the room.

“Joe Abernathy.” The doctor stepped into Jamie’s line of sight to hold his attention.

He tried to take in the news the kind American doctor relayed to him, making sure to nod when appropriate. Everything sounded fine, but he couldn’t allow himself reprieve until she set her eyes upon him once more.

Severe dehydration, he said.

“I can guess how troublesome her morning sickness has been. We’ll get her caught up on fluids and monitor things from there.”

Minor concussion, he said.

“I’m sure you know she’s been knocked around pretty thoroughly, Mr. Malcolm.”

It’s up to her now, he said.

“We’ll have to wait for her to wake up. Their heartbeats are both strong, which is our main concern for now.”

Jamie had done his best to follow along and swallow his emotions, but couldn’t control the sob that escaped him at that simple statement.

Abernathy gripped his shoulder. “You did well, man. We might be telling a different story if not for you.”

As Jamie stood and pulled his chair behind him, the doctor clapped him on the back, then pulled the sleeve of his white coat up to glance at his smartwatch. 

“I’m told the Doctors Beauchamp are stuck in parade traffic.” Dr. Abernathy’s finger swiped smoothly across the small screen. “There’s also a small crowd in the waiting room that’s anxious to see the two of you.”

Goistidh. Jamie unlocked his mobile. Eight missed calls from Murtagh. Five from Claire’s assistant, Mary McNab.

“I’ll tell you now, but will also be sure to let the persistent young lady in the waiting room know, that no one on our staff will speak a word.”

Abernathy looked up to meet Jamie’s eye once more, seeming to finally take a closer look at him. “That’s a nasty cut you’ve got there, man.” The doctor gestured toward Jamie’s eye. “I’ll send someone up to see that it gets taken care of.”

Jamie shrugged the doctor off. “‘Tis nothing to fash over.”

“The stitches might help take your mind off things,” Abernathy suggested.

“Dinna want to ‘take my mind off things,’” Jamie mimicked. Another bout of guilt flooded him. “I’m sorry, Doc.” He swallowed deeply. “This is almost more than I can bear, myself.”

Abernathy fixed him with a look. “She was in good hands, Mr. Malcolm. She still is.” 

The doctor exited the room and closed the door quietly behind him, leaving only Jamie’s thoughts to fill the silence.

Jamie didn’t spare space between his chair and Claire’s bed. He reached for one of her cold hands and rubbed it between his own.

“Wake up, lass,” he whispered. A surge of feeling rose in his chest. “If ye’ll ever obey anyone in your life, let it be me, now, Claire.” He scrubbed his dirty, scuffed palms across his eyes. “Please, mo chridhe.”

Motion at the door stirred him from his greeting. A blonde blur sped in and hit him squarely in the chest. “Nunkie!”

“Germain Henry!” drilled a stern feminine voice. “Give yer uncle some space.”

Jamie squeezed the toddler against him and ghosted his own lips over his forehead before Marsali swung him up and settled him against the swell of her belly, patting Jamie’s hand soothingly. Her expression became disapproving as she took in the damage to his face.

He looked up as his future brother-in-law squeezed his shoulder as he circled the bed, pulling forward the chair on the other side.

Fergus leaned forward to brush his lips over Claire’s clammy forehead. “Milady,” he whispered, the light French lilt from his university and medical school days in Paris echoing in the sentiment. He gripped her hand with both of his, eyes not leaving her still form.

Jamie’s heart twisted. The moniker had been bestowed on a prim and proper young Claire by Uncle Lamb when she struggled with culture shock during her first trip to the edge of the earth. Soon after she’d gained her bearings, her passion for the world she lived in had established itself, along with her heart for helping its people.

Marsali allowed Germain to roam once more with a warning to ‘nae get underfoot.’ She washed her hands at the corner basin and slipped on a pair of rubber gloves, helping herself to the cotton swabs and peroxide stored in a high cabinet.

Jamie winced at the sting as she swabbed the wound under his eye.

Satisfied, she ruffled his hair and helped herself to the medical chart fastened near the bed. She surveyed the information with her experienced obstetrician’s eye, her observations undetectable until a gasp emitted from her and her gaze landed on Jamie.

He immediately knew what the file had revealed to her, and nodded his permission for her to speak it aloud.

“Did ye know, a bràthair?” Marsali whispered.

Fergus snapped to attention, both his hands still grasping Claire’s.

“Aye.” Jamie breathed, the barest of grins tickling his lips. “She was – is – sae excited to tell ye both at Thursday night supper.” He clapped his hand over his mouth, unable to stifle the sharp intake of air that followed. He met Fergus���s eye. “Ye should know, man, it’s driven her mad to keep it from ye…”

Fergus nodded slowly, stroking Claire’s wrists. Jamie suspected he was seeking her pulse points himself. “She will,” he said firmly. “She’ll tell me.”

Jamie sniffled hard in an attempt to regain his composure. “I’m sorry I didna protect her,” he whispered.

“You have, ye dolt,” Marsali cut in. Her steady hand smoothed the wrinkled bed covering over Claire’s belly where Germain had tugged it, attempting to check on his aunt for himself. 

“I met Claire when she was but 15, a gangly wee thing gettin’ in her uncle’s way. She’s always been headstrong and determined. But I’ve never seen her so passionate, so content. Not until ye came along.”

“You couldn’t have expected this,” Fergus added, boosting Germain to his lap.

Marsali’s mobile vibrated.

Jamie could hazard a guess at how many times it had sounded that day based on the weary expression that crossed her face as she answered it.

She began speaking in rapid Gaelic, making it clear who was on the other end of the line. She could give Jenny a clear update without worrying Fergus unnecessarily.

Jamie flinched as he overheard rough translations for ‘still out’ and ‘hard knock to the head.’ She kept their big news to herself for now, and Jamie couldn’t help but imagine the sheer joy that would cross his sister’s face when she heard. Not to mention the bizarre hints he’d heard about their father today. How could he drop something like that on her, especially if it wasn’t true…

But he could puzzle all of that out later. As long as his stubborn lass woke up, all would be well.

The moment Marsali switched back to English, stepping toward the door and whispering into the receiver, Jamie knew she was talking about him and his own haggard appearance. There was no language the women shared that could conceal their worries from him.

As Germain’s impatient questions and complaints of an empty belly increased, Fergus and Marsali finally escorted him out of the room and to the cafeteria, promising to bring something back for Jamie. He doubted he’d have the will to eat it.

And so he was alone with his desperate thoughts once again.

________________________________________

Claire struggled against her heavy eyelids as awareness came back to her. Her immediate line of sight was blurred, and she ached all over. Gone was her torn pantsuit, a starchy white gown in its place. Her sorry state was apparent, almost as if she were taking account of her injuries from outside her own body.

She tried to recount what had happened in the last few hours… days? She had a vague recollection of a gun being drawn and shots firing, and someone going down painfully. Jamie?

Claire jolted at this thought, her vision adjusting to recognize the profile standing at the window across the room from her, with dazzling afternoon light refracting off his cinnamon waves as his head hung low and shoulders drooped. Though she could barely make him out in the shadows, she knew she loved him. He appeared healthy and strong, uninhibited by ballistic injury. So how much of what she remembered was actually real?

Could she trust her own tender feelings, anything besides the pull she felt toward him in spite of the weight of her limbs gluing her to the bed?

Had they truly shared all the things she thought she remembered, or was it all just lovely images her mind her created to comfort her as her body healed?

________________________________________

 Jamie lifted the corner of the curtain with just the tips of his fingers. The car park was littered with news vans, camera bulbs flashing as hospital officials created a barrier between the crowd and their front doors. In the hours that had passed since he carried Claire in, it was clearly no longer a secret where the prime minister was recovering, nor how she had fallen victim to betrayal and neglect. He dropped the flimsy material in disgust. Just once, if they would leave her alone…

He barely registered the rustling on the other side of the room, but spun to attention. Claire was moving.

Her head flopped across the pillow as she sniffled, then moaned.

Jamie released a startled cry, just watching in relief as she flexed unused muscles.

Claire stilled, eyes focused on him. She looked awkward and unsure.

He cursed himself for putting distance between them. She should have woken with her hand in his as he watched her closely for any simple comfort he could provide.

Jamie raced back to her side. “Thank Christ,” he whispered, kneeling to adjust the pillow under her as she sat up.

Claire tensed and leaned back into the pillow as their eyes met. Jamie wished he didn’t see it, but there was fear in her expression.

“C—Claire…” he soothed. “It’s over. You’re whole.” His mouth curved into what might have been a smile, but it apparently had no calming effect.

She gulped and took shallow breaths, wild eyes looking anywhere but at him. A panic attack.

Understanding dawned on Jamie. She didn’t remember. Dr. Abernathy’s term returned to him: Concussion. He wondered briefly how bad it would be, whether she would remember him at all. He wouldn’t be able to bear hearing her call him “Alex” or “Agent Malcolm” without a hint of the flirtatious banter or sultry tone of jest that usually accompanied the nicknames.

He couldn’t bear not to know, either.

“Seas, a leannan,” he cooed. He curled his fingers under her jaw. “Breathe with me, mo ghraidh.”

Her eyes locked on his as he spoke the language of his heart. “… Jamie?” Her face lit with hope.

Jamie’s nerves unknotted themselves. “Just me.” His other hand smoothed her tangled curls from her glistening face.

Claire’s breathing slowed as she leaned her cheek into his palm, grimace giving way to peace.

He boosted himself into the bed beside her, relief flowing through him as she curled into him, careful of the IV running between them.

“I’ve been having terrible dreams, I think…” She shook her head. “I was worried I’d dreamt it all.”

“Nay, mo nighean donn.” He kissed the side of her head, her sweaty neck, anywhere he could reach as his palm stroked down her side.

Claire’s hand flew to her middle, features crinkling once more. “Our baby, is everything...?”

“A braw one like ye,” he managed to choke out. “Has a good wee heart, I’ve heard it myself.”

________________________________________

 The door squealed open again just as Dr. Abernathy finished setting up the ultrasound machine.

Claire exhaled as her extended family piled through the door.

Amid the bustle of activity in the crowded room, she and Jamie had barely managed to speak discreetly about all that had occurred that day.

Claire had insisted on letting Jamie squeeze her hand as Nurse Cameron had placed five stitches under his right eye. His grip had been mild, but he had let her see him wince as the nurse had tied off the final suture. They had no secrets, and if she could bear a bit of his pain, she would.

She had stroked his curls as he recounted all the possibilities that had raced through his mind at the mere suggestion that Brian Fraser was alive. Much as he wanted to find out for himself, Jamie couldn’t risk investigating if it meant leaving Claire and the baby behind.

His tears had soaked into her gown as he apologized for not suspecting Frank sooner and taking care of the problem himself.

“Shh, shh,” she had whispered. “You had nothing to go on. I can just imagine it, ‘Metropolitan Police Protection Officer breaks into the House of Commons to tackle Home Secretary to the ground.’” She had scratched his stubbled chin. “You’d still be in gaol now.”

Jamie had snorted against her shoulder, shaking with the force of her own laughter. “It’s no’ funny, Claire.”

“Are you quite sure?” she had asked, lips curled. “I’m looking forward to the joy of seeing both those characters put away for awhile.”

“Aye,” he had rasped. “I’ll see to it, a nighean.”

Claire had tilted his chin to lock eyes with him. “We will.”

Jamie had sniffled and nodded firmly, grasping her palm to place a kiss there.

Fergus set Germain at the foot of her hospital bed, but her nephew jumped onto her sore legs instead. “Auntie Bear!” he cried.

She tried to withhold her groan as she gathered him to her. “Gracious, but you’re getting big, my lad.”

Claire got a lovely whiff of his lingering baby scent as her sister-in-law stooped beside her bed and took her face in both hands. “How are ye, a chridhe?”

Claire grasped her hands over Marsali’s. She had never been able to hide anything from the other woman’s intuitive gaze, so she shouldn’t have been surprised when Marsali glanced down then met her eye knowingly. She darted a glance to Jamie, who shrugged helplessly in the midst of feasting on his newly delivered hamburger and chips.

“My wife read your chart,” Fergus’s voice sounded as he closed in on their huddle to ruffle her curls. “Congratulations, ma cherie.”

Claire laughed and took a wonderfully full breath. “I don’t suppose I could have kept it from you for long. You might have been suspicious otherwise when I booked an appointment with you.” She squeezed Marsali’s hand before leaning into Fergus’s arm around her shoulders.

“Alright, Ms. Beauchamp,” Joe interrupted the lovingly chaotic scene.

Claire smiled up at him. In the half hour since he’d walked in to find her conscious, she had already grown to like the young doctor for his wit and gentle manner.

Nurse Cameron gestured that she was ready with the cool gel.

Fergus swept Germain out of her lap as Jamie nestled closer on the edge of her bed, shielding her as she wrestled the thin hospital gown up over her hips.

A few minor adjustments later and Claire’s eyes filled with tears as she watched a tiny form swim on the screen in front of her. She held onto Jamie – perhaps not as tightly as he clutched her – to make sure it still wasn’t a dream.

She had no idea how she’d do it all, but knew she could with the support of those around her.

[ghostlypawn]

I listened to Alice By Heart after seeing you post about it. The music is amazing, but I'm still a little confused on the plot (I've never watched Alice in Wonderland. Like I know the characters but not really the plot) could you maybe explain it? Like I love the songs, but I just want to know more about the storyline than what I've understood from your posts + YouTube comments.

honestly its understandable if you dont understand the plot as this was its biggest criticism whilst it was running. this turned out really long so imma add a read more lool

the thing with alice in wonderland itself is that there isnt exactly a plot to it? its simply alice wondering through wonderland where she meets these new characters (and theres like subtle themes about growing up that she learns through by meeting them tho its not always overt unless youre looking for them yknow?). abh is similar in the same way. it starts in the underground which is currently being used as an air raid shelter where alices childhood best friend alfred has come down with tuberculosis [west of words]; during their childhood before this they would always read alice in wonderland together so alice believes that by starting to read the story alfred will start to feel better (or mayb its just her denial that leaves her believing that he will be okay by the end when really shes ust trying to buy herself more time with him). and as she starts reading to alfred the red cross nurse tells her that its stupid to believe in fantasy books when times are so hard/real so she destroys the book[down the hole]. luckily for alice this is a book she knows by heart so begins to tell the tale regardless and we follow the story as if we were reading the book ourselves, however, the chapters are sometimes in a mismatched order etc as its from alices memory [still, its kinda just a song to start the wonderland portion of the show which shows how alfred, now the white rabbit, wants to finish the book and he knows he has no time left but alice tries to convice him and herself that he has loads of time to finish]. we start with the caterpillar (who isnt actually one of the first characters, after this scene alfred as the white rabbit appears proclaiming that alice skipped their scene in which alice replies that she “got distracted” i.e she got peer pressured into smoking by the caterpillar who is a sleazy older teen in the bunker) [chillin the regrets]. alfred soon gets peer pressured into smoking too under the disguise that “it slows time” which makes him a bit more chill about the whole trying to finish the book [the key is]. this leads us to the lobster dance (a scene is the book) in which alice and alfred self-insert themselves into by tabathas, now the cheshire cats. encouragement [those long eyes]. this song ends with an clock alarm (or air raid siren i dont remember) which brings them back to reality where alfred once again realises that theyre not moving forward in the book and starts arguing with alice that they cant linger in the pages which leaves alice on stage alone. in comes the duchess who essentially critisises her for growing (both mentally and physically) and invites her to the queens croquet [manage your flamingo]. this scene ends with another air raid siren and alfred has come up with a way to try n make alice hate him in order for her to let him go, hes takes on the role of the march hare at the mad hatters tea where by the end alice claims that she “hates [him] for getting sick” [sick to death of aliceness]. alfred is carted away to “ward D” aka the ward thats left for dead. alice is obviously distraughted at this and tries to go find him but is ushered away by the doctor aka the jabberwocky [brillig braelig]. starts to realise the severity of the situation alfred is in. once again left alone on stage she questions how will she find alfred now hes been carted away when she calls for the cheshire cat who explains to her that death is inevitable and you have to move on [some things fall away]. alice is beginning to forget what she knows by heart as reality is becoming more, well, real. a single page falls that reads “alice has cried herself into a pool of her own tears”. suddenly the mock turtle (and the mock mock turtles) walk on stage weeping where they end up having a discussion in which the mock turtle declares that everyone grieves and sometimes you just have to live in that grief for some time [your shell of grief]. another airraid siren blares which signals everyone to start getting ready for the trial. alfred appears once again in a hospital gown looking as sick as hes been all show where him and alice ponder what will life be like after this, alfred come to a middle ground where alice should move forward but thinks there will always be [another room in [her] head] that she can go to if she wants to grieve and be with him once more. alice is still in denial and asks alfred to kiss her so that she doesnt have to live without him but alfred denies as “theyre calling me, not you” but alice tries regardless. alfred cries “silence in the court” before she can which causes the start of the trail as alice cries out “dont”. the trial begins alice is the one of trial, just like the book [isnt it a trial?] the jury then moves on stage in order to state their verdict, during this movement alice asks alfred why he turned the page to which he responds “it is the story. its time to close the book”. the jury give their verdict [do you think we think youre alice?]. by the end of this alice realises that everything shes gone through and growing up is natural and decides that shes had enough [ive shrunk enough]. similar to the book, everyone simply dissappears leaving alice with the reality of alfred, alice n alfred reminicse on their afternoons together where they would read alice in wonderland together [afternoon], he dies by the end of the song where no one speaks despite a ticking stopwatch (the white rabbits watch). alice turns it off symbolising alfreds death. alice finishes reading the last chapter despite alfreds absence as the other kids in the bunker tell her to just be done with it as hes gone to which she responds that “its never done” as as long as she has wonderland she still has him [winter blooms]. yes im crying as i finish writing this it HURTS me. id be happy to send a bootleg if u come off anon :)

[elixir4paradise]

Promise-of-Happiness

Set after Bad Relationship Ending 1, what happens if V catches wind of what Rika has done to both her and Ray? Will they be saved?

I could remember screaming, a voice screaming my name. A voice asking, begging, pleading for forgiveness for leaving me alone. The face before me seemed so familiar, yet so far away. Bleached hair with pink tips splayed messily on his forehead, his gloved fingers running over my cheek. Why was his touch so familiar? Why couldn't I speak?

I hazily remember him shouting as believers grabbed him and pulled him away. He continued to shout for me, telling me he would be back..but why..? It was like I had no memories of him, I only remembered the Savior calling me down to her throne room and scolding me for barely using the messenger I had come to test. The game? Oh wait. It wasn't a game, they were real people. What a strange feeling.

Feeling darkness invade my field of vision, I cried out; or so I thought. I was awake but I couldn't open my eyes, a faint beeping filled my ears. I struggled and cried out internally as I begged my body to listen to my commands. A futile effort, I couldn't wake up. Ceasing my internal struggles, I faintly recall hearing a voice, speaking to me so very softly.

"It'll be okay, MC." The owner of the voice gently stroked down my hair, tangling his fingers between the locks. "I'm so sorry I got you involved in this, so please wake up soon." Then my memory faded back into black as I felt my consciousness slipping back away. Sweet darkness, warm darkness, comforting darkness.

The redhead who sat beside the hospital bed, untangled his fingers from the young woman before him. His eyes clouded with worry as he turned towards the door that slid open. "V.."

The man with mint colored hair adverted his gaze from the golden eyes baring straight into his soul. "Luciel, I didn't think you'd still be here." he spoke softly, nervously approaching the redhead. He lowered himself onto the foot of the bed, flitting his eyes to the hand Luciel had the unconscious girl's in. "I didn't realize you were so close."

Seven pressed his mouth into a thin line, glancing back to the girl. "We're not." he said curtly. "We get along in chat and I..." biting his tongue before considering his next words. "..I feel responsible, with Saeran and all."

V watched him closely, feeling he was hiding something, but it was not an issue he was going to press. He knew Luciel had started to develop feelings towards the woman attached to IV and a heart monitor before them, it was obvious in the way he interacted with her on messenger. It was even more obvious as he set aside his work for the agency even after their rescue was completed.  Not mentioning it was the least he could do since Luciel never once asked how he knew she was at Magenta. How he knew his brother was there too, he just listened as they infiltrated and carried out the mission, no questions asked.

--- My dream was hazy, I felt the warmth of the sun hitting my face. It felt so good, I felt myself shifting to my side and a hand supporting me. I stirred again before opening my eyes. Beautiful mint green/blue eyes gazed into mine, the familiar white haired man looked to me with such tenderness on his face. I gathered that I was on his lap, I could feel a soft pressure on my head causing me to reach up before his fingers intertwined with my own.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?" His voice was beyond comforting and familiar. "Don't mess with your crown princess, it's fragile."

Crown? I strained my eyes to unblur as I began to notice he was sporting a crown of flowers, causing me to reach up and touch upon some soft petals entwined around my head.

"I'm sorry." He spoke again, brushing a strand of hair from my eyes. "You just looked so much like a princess I had to make you a crown to match the sleeping beauty before me."

The heat that rose to my cheeks had me certain that I was burning as bright as the roses that adorned his crown. I adverted my eyes quickly as I sat up, his hand loosening on mine, allowing me to shift into a sitting position.

I felt my body move on it's own as I let my head lay into his chest, curling up lightly inbetween his legs, I took in the surroundings before us. We lay against a tree in a garden, vibrant colors painted the scenery before us, the orange of twilight cascading the area in an even dreamier glow.

"You fell asleep, Princess." Lips touched the back of my hand and touched again on my forehead. "We were having a picnic, remember? The Savior has allowed it and I was so happy to see you." He smiled wistfully as he stroked my hair, a nervous but calm aura surrounded him.

"I love you." he broke the silence, his voice shuddering, it sounded as if it was his first time confessing those words. I heard myself confirming his feelings by pushing up and letting our lips touch, before I pulled away I spoke. "I love you too, Ray. So much."

A sad smile crossed his features as he began to dissolve infront of my very eyes. He faded into darkness, leaving my arms cold and empty. I reached out as I watched him disappear before my very eyes. ---

"RAY!!" I shot up in bed, the scenery around me vastly different from my dream. Sterile white walls, a beeping monitor. I jolted my body forward, gasping for air and wincing as I felt the IV tube grow taught against my movement. A hand grasped around mine, causing me to whip around. Gold eyes bore onto mine, an intense, somehow familiar stare, peering into my soul.

"Who-" Before I could even get it out, the redhead before me was moving me to lay back down on the hospital bed.

"Rest. You've been out for a few days." His voice was so quiet, sweet and somewhat sad. For some reason he also seemed familiar. His red hair messy, disheveled and yellow and black striped glasses adorned his face. "I'm sure you're surprised. He won't hurt you anymore."

Who? I glanced around the room nervously, trying to figure out what he was saying, trying to rack my brain as to who he was. He reminded me of the guy in my dream, but starkly different with the red mop atop his head. "Ray....?"

Seven sat back down after getting her to calm down, sighing softly and shaking his head to the confused woman. "MC, You probably know me as Luciel.. I.. I'm so sorry."

"Seven?" Obviously bewildered, his name came from my lips probably louder than I intended. "Where's Ray?"

"He won't hurt you now."

He didn't! He was always kind to me. I was remembering now, my affirmation to his feelings, the memories we  shared in the garden seemed like so long ago.

 "He... he would never hurt me.." I finally managed to choke out, contributing to the mix of emotions on his face. "He... He's not--"

"No. He's okay. V and I got him in the psyche ward.." His voice trailed, an obvious pain contorted his features. "His name isn't Ray." He inhaled deeply, resting his hand on my shoulder. "His name is Saeran. He's my twin.. it seems like someone pit him against the RFA, he was unconscious when we found him, just like you were." His amber colored eyes seemed to search mine for answers.

Seven shifted in his seat before continuing. "He was in a basement, locked in a cel. According to the doctors he ingested the same mixture of chemicals you did, but a greater quantity. I'm not sure what that stuff was but he was angry and delirious. MC.. Do you remember who did this..? Anything.. He's my brother. I left him in Rika's care, V ensured he was safe but he won't answer my questions."

The young man spoke so quickly, feverently that it was almost so hard to keep up. It was a lot of information. "The Savior must have... The Savior must have punished him after I stopped coming on messenger.." I recollected to the best of my abilities. "She... looked really familiar.." suddenly something dawned on me and as I began to ask him to show me a picture of Rika, the door to the room swung open and a gentleman with mint colored hair and mint eyes stood, his breathing labored.

Seven and I sat in silence as the man entered the room. "Please don't say any more." He panted. "Please." He approached us slowly, holding his hands in a clasped position. "Please let me handle... that Savior."

I shifted my attention to Seven, whose hands were gripping the railing to my bed, his knuckles white. As if to comfort him I moved my hand to cover his lightly. His whole demeanor relaxed at my touch. He let his head hang down in defeat, not pressuring the mint haired man further.

"V..." Seven spoke softly, trying hard to mask the shaking in his voice. "Why are you here...?"

"I came to check on you both, the other members asked me to since you haven't been on messenger. I filled them in the best I could."

Seven nodded lightly. "How is he..?"

"He's still angry, he keeps calling for someone, he seems desperate but incoherent."

I tried to find the courage to speak, moving my mouth opened and closed, like a guppy gasping for breath. "Can I see him...?" I finally managed. His memory was becoming clearer, our memories together. I wanted to see him more than I could bare.

"He's your kidnapper. I don't feel it'd be wise." V spoke sternly, his eyes narrowed lightly, somehow betraying the calmness and tenderness behind his voice. He approached me and reached out to touch my arm gently, his expression has since relaxed. "He is very frantic, I'm not sure you'd help. I'm sorry."

Seven watched his "guardian" speak to MC, watching them interact closely. He was acute to the emotions being hidden in their tones as their voices bounced along the walls of the sterile room. Thank goodness for his experience as an Agent helping him read the situation better. While he understood V's concern, he could feel the eagerness and sincerity behind MC's intentions too. After a while V excused himself, leaving the two in silence. They waited a while, ensuring V was gone before he spoke up, his voice still hushed. "Want to come with me..? I know where he is."

I couldn't help the joy that sprung to my eyes, glittering with happy tears as I nodded vigorously. "Please!" ---- I could hear screaming from the room, thrashing around and a nurse leaving quickly before our presence caught her attention. "I wouldn't go in there." She spoke quickly as she finally pushed past. 

I could feel Seven looking at me, concerned, as if he was questioning our next move. I was holding onto the IV drip, rolling it beside us as Seven was pushing my wheelchair towards the room. His excuse was that I haven't used my legs in days and he didn't want me to overexert myself.

The shrill screams filled my ears again snapping me from my distracted state. I made sure my eyes met with Seven's and mustered up the most determined, pleading expression I could muster. I was scared but I had to see him with my own eyes.

"Little brother.." Seven's greeting was met with a hiss and another crazed scream. "Bro, Listen. I--" A book flung across the room, narrowly hitting him. Sighing he confirmed with me again but I wasn't ready to give up. Finally he wheeled me into view.

The frail figure on the bed was bound tightly, his chest struggling against the bounds, causing the railing to rattle with the sheer force he was using. Another sharp hiss of an inhale before those icy mint eyes met with mine. For a moment his angry expression faltered.

He gasped and tugged at his binds again, his eyes seemed to brim with tears. 

She was here. She was here! She was ALIVE! He pulled again, desperate, his demeanor no longer one of anger. "MC..." he choked out, completely forgetting the man who brought her to him. "MC!" his voice broke out in a sob, a strangled desperation of an onslaught of emotion crashing into his weak body.

Seven watched his brother's attitude go a complete 180 upon seeing the girl. What did he feel towards her? The same thing he felt? Maybe he only liked her because they are twins and they felt the same thing? Trying to piece together his own emotions, he didn't notice the girl struggling and reaching at the railing of the bed.

I shakily grabbed the railing to Ray--Saeran's bed and pulled myself up, I could barely stand but I felt the need to get close to him. Tears were threatening to burn my eyes as I managed to pull myself forward, stumbling. "I'm here.." I felt a strong pair of arms lift me and sit me on the bed, Seven smiled tenderly, mussing my hair before stepping to the side with a soft nod, signalling me to go ahead.

Glancing at the sobbing figure before me, I lifted his chin gingerly, examining his face. Ray--wait. Saeran's face was stricken with tears, a look of relief gracing his lovely eyes. He buried his head against my shoulder, choking back another gasp. Wrapping my arms tightly around him I let him cry it out into my shoulder, feeling the tears I was holding back falling freely. ---

A month has passed since we were discharged from the hospital, Saeran and I were living in Seven's bunker, I slept in one of the guest rooms, Saeran had his own room and Saeyoung, who I learned was Seven's real name obviously had his own.

The brothers have gone through a lot in the time we've been together. Saeran had pushed away from his brother and fought feverently against the belief's the Savior had instilled in him. Deep down he understood Saeyoung did what was best for them at the time but there was a part of him that didn't want to accept it.

Saeran suffered a lot, anxiety attacks riddling him a useless sobbing mess. I was always quick to help him breathe and calm down. We would press foreheads together and count slowly. His tears would slowly dissapear as his breathing would slip away from erratic to calm and collected.

I stayed in my room a lot to give them to bond and to struggle with my own feelings, I loved Saeran so much but I was very confused. I was trying hard to process the that Saeran and Ray were similar but not quite the same. I tried to quiet my steps as I headed towards the kitchen. Upon reaching my destination I was graced with a serene scene of the brothers actually eating peacefully together. Saeyoung was cracking some joke or another and annoying Saeran but not to the point of angering him.

Mint and gold eyes flitted over to me, holding my surprised gaze. 'G-Good morning you two.." I pushed past, bowing my head lightly, trying to seem as small as possible, to not disrupt their peaceful moment. Saeyoung's voice rung through the morning. "Let's go on a date!!" His hearty laugh reverberated in his chest, the mirth in his eyes youthful and excited.

"Date..?" Saeran looked up from his breakfast curiously, knitting his eyebrows together. "What do you mean..?"

"You, Me and MC!"

I felt the plate fall from my hand, clattering to the counter. My face was so hot I felt like I couldn't breathe. "W....what...?"

Saeyoung wasted no time, moving and wrapping his arm around my shoulders in a onesided hug. "Well! GOD7 is bored and you've helped us both so much! If you hadn't come to chat.." his voice grew serious from the hearty boyish tone he had before as he pulled me tighter. "I wouldn't have been reunited with my baby brother and I wouldn't have met you so please! Let us treat you.."

I could hear Saeran choke on his food before getting up and prying his brother's arm off me. "Okay okay that's enough of that.." He spoke flatly, mussing my hair. His tender eyes glanced down on mine, smiling lightly. "Go get ready.. Yeah?" 

Saeran watched as she scrambled back to her room to get changed. He moved to meet his brother's gaze. "What's with you?"

Saeyoung only grinned largely, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

"Whaaaaat?" feigned innocence dripped over his words. "Jealous?"

Saeran didn't miss a beat. "Yes. Stop flirting with her."

Saeyoung slumped his shoulders, defeated before his shit eating grin disappeared. He tried to gather his thoughts before speaking again. "You love her...?" He watched a series of emotions flash through his brother's face. Gold eyes widened as his brother confidently nodded. Back to a shit eating grin, Saeyoung grabbed his twin tight. "I'M SO EXCITED FOR MY SISTER IN LAW!!!" 

Yes, his heart had been shattered into a million pieces but he bounced back quickly. He was happy to set his feelings aside as long as they could both be happy. He swung his brother back and forth laughing loudly to keep from the feelings he buried deep in his heart. He understood his feelings may not change but his brother has suffered enough and deserved this chance. ------ The "date" was lovely, walking around a botanical park and Saeran explained the many different flowers. Saeyoung played on his phone but he and I cracked jokes freely, teasing one another. We poked and prodded as Saeran would watch on with tender eyes.

I was on cloud 9. The happiest I've felt in years. We were headed towards our final destination to the date, my arm linked in Saeyoung's playfully as we pretended to be heading down the yellow brick road. As my free hand swung freely, I brushed against the back of Saeran's hand. I shot an embarrassed glance to him and his response took me back to the days in the gardens. His fingers intertwined with mine, staring straight ahead as if it was a natural action.

The ice-cream shop was bustling, Saeyoung had already unlinked with me and went off to order ahead of us. Saeran's fingers never left mine as we sat across from each other laying our linked hand on the square table. His eyes bore into mine as he smiled lightly. "One chocolate, one strawberry and one vanilla coming right up!!" Saeyoung's voice snapped me out of my trance and Saran and I untangled our fingers. I touched my burning cheek in embarrassment. Saeyoung sat at the table, handing the cones out, laughing to himself. Sarean and I blinked together as if wanting in on Saeyoung's inside voice.

"Together we make Neapolitan Ice-cream!" He held up his chocolate cone while Saeran held up his vanilla, I brought my strawberry cone in the middle, the flavors lightly touching as we made a "toast" with the ice-cream. Laughter ensued. ---- Saeran and I have grown even closer since that day and my realization that Ray was alive inside of him only made my feelings stronger. Saeyoung and I had become the best of friends and hung out constantly. I was no longer confused about my feelings. I did love Saeyoung, but not the same way he hoped I did.. 

My feelings for Saeran.. have become clear as day.

Saeran was planting some flowers outside of the bunker, admiring his work and wiping his arm on his head. I sat on the ledge of the flower box, kicking my legs as I watched him work. "What did you plant?" I asked curiously.

"Primrose, roses, dandelions, baby's breath and lily of the valley." His cheeks dusted with a sweet rosy pink as he mentioned the last one. Curiosity must have filled my face because he answered me without my asking. "Lily of the valley.." 

He removed his glove and cupped my cheek gently. "The promise of happiness." I felt the blood rush to my cheeks, my eyes softened lightly as I leaned into his touch. "I hope you'll find all the happiness in the world. You and Saeyoung deserve it." I touched my fingers along his wrist, stroking them lightly.

He relaxed into my touch and caught my gaze in his own, keeping eye contact, he searched mine as if asking if I was listening. Before I knew it, his face was so close to mine, our foreheads touching, his eyes never leaving mine. "I've already found it.."

Saeran's breath tickled my lips, casuing my breath to hitch in my throat. I shivered against his touch, my heart hammering in my chest. "Y...You have?" 

Without a moment of hesitation, he closed the distance between us, cupping my face now with both hands. I felt like I couldn't breathe for a moment, giving into his kiss I exhaled, wrapping my arms around his neck. His free hand wrapped around the back of my head, pulling me closer. He exhaled through his nose, pushing the kiss deeper.

We stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, not wanting the other to pull away, but we both needed to catch our breath. A radiant, gentle smile graced his features, tears brimming in his eyes. "My MC. I love you. I always have. I know now.. those feelings weren't just Ray's but mine. Thank you for being by my side constantly and for helping me find my family."

I inhaled nervously, pulling myself into a closer hug, trembling lightly. His words processed as I let my eyes flutter closed. I had no doubt in the world now. 

Nothing could break this moment. I exhaled against his collar bone, peppering kisses on it lightly. "I love you too... I love you Saeran... All of you, every side of you and that will never change."

I heard him let out a relieved sob, exhaling a breath I was unaware that he was holding. We both laughed to ourselves, showering the other in months worth of kisses to make up for lost time. Both a tearful, hiccuping laughing mess, we couldn't have it any other way.

The promise of happiness. Everlasting love.

Nothing ever felt more right in the world and we had it, in our hands.

Forever.

[hazzabeeforlou]

On the eve of HS2, I felt I needed to reflect and write a diary entry of sorts, an ode to where I was and where I am now, a musing on how HS1 ushered in a whole new world for me. This is long and more personal than anything I’ve previously shared, but in honor of vulnerability and maybe helping someone else who’s struggling... here it is. 

The most exposure 2015 me had to pop music was occasionally listening to ‘hits’ radio. My old art teacher in high school had blasted the classics of the 60s and 70s daily, so I knew those, albeit not the names, but the music, the style, the melodic tropes and such. 2015 me didn’t have much time for pop music. I was getting a fancy degree in classical music from one of the best conservatories in the world, and I’d made it there after four years with a highly abusive teacher in undergrad who gave me horrible anxiety; by the end, whenever she would walk into a room, I would get chills and start shaking. She delighted in lying to me, in calling me out in front of my peers. Worse, I was arguably her highest-achieving student. The day I got into Juilliard she took me for “tea” to celebrate, where she proceeded to spend the whole time telling me how she had made this happen, how her connections got me to NY, how I should be grateful. 

Entering the world of NYC and Juilliard I was an awestruck, anxious mess. Everything moved too fast, the school was overwhelming, my studio mates were famous already, some of them having won world-famous competitions and been on the cover of magazines. I was in the elite place, a place my working class roots had never prepared me for. My dad was a millwright. He went to work every day in steel-toed boots and overalls and often returned so filthy mom wouldn’t let him wash his clothes in the household washing machine. But I was nothing if not adaptable, and grateful, and charming, and I did my best. I worked hard. But my health kept deteriorating. 

All through undergrad I’d been feeling progressively worse. I had horrible acne that I presumed was caused by stress, as I’d never suffered with it in high school. I was already an introvert, but body insecurity led me to hardly ever socialize. I would spent hours getting ready for things, never willing to show my bare face. But that wasn’t the worst; I’d developed what I now understand was an eating disorder, because no matter how much I exercised or dieted, I kept gaining weight, or rather, I lost all my baby fat but remained the same scale number. I kept telling my mother I was fat. I didn’t tell her that I hated the wind, that I hated running, because it made my stomach protrude and the whole world could see the extra pounds I carried. I never made an appointment with an OBGYN because I didn’t date much less have sex, and my mother had told me, well you don’t ever need to be seen until you do. I came to NYC well versed in wearing baggy sweaters and scarfs that hid my form. And for two years, as my breathing got worse and worse, as my energy levels dropped, as my skin hurt and itched, I pushed forwards. I remember practicing one day and my eyes going black. I couldn’t see, I couldn’t breathe. 

It was getting into an international competition that saved me. I got the news in early May of 2016; I jumped around my room and I started coughing, and the next day a hernia appeared above my belly button. I was only slightly worried, but I went to see the Juilliard doctor. She asked if I’d gained weight, she said even a couple pounds could do it. I was, as always, ashamed, red faced, embarrassed as she prodded around on my torso. 

She said I’d need surgery. So I scheduled it in NYC for two days after my graduation. I played my recital, but with a binder around my abdomen. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t remember my memorized music. I nearly passed out. I stumbled on the sidewalk afterwards. 

When I woke from the surgery I was in blinding pain, teeth chattering uncontrollably, in shock. I couldn't open my eyes, and every breath felt like knives slicing into my chest. I heard the nurses say, “We’ve given you three IVs of Percocet, do you want us to give you a forth?” I said no, thinking, ‘what if I die from an overdose?’ After two hours my mother came in search of me. It was supposed to be a day surgery. She demanded morphine. They sent me home on it, but two days later I’d thrown up twice and was back in the ER. A CT showed I had an ovarian cyst. The doctor said to me, “It’s 28 inches. It’s the size of a dinner plate.” I didn’t understand. They rushed me back for another surgery, and asked me to sign a paper saying I wouldn’t hold them responsible if I ended up paralyzed. I signed it. I joked with the nurses before they put me under. I was shaking with pain. I thought, if this is the end, I’ve had a good life. I’ll be with my doggy, my baby puppy. I’ve graduated from my dream school. I’ve gotten into an elite international competition. I’ll go out at the top of my game. It’s okay. 

But then I woke up. Over the next year, I would wish countless times that I hadn’t. I could barely walk. I couldn’t lift things like a fork, or my computer. I couldn’t shower or cough or even shit. I couldn’t practice or sit upright for more than fifteen minutes. Pain became a constant. I started to wake up with night sweats, my forehead creased in subconscious pain. I would jump at every loud noise, my heart lurching like a ruined engine, and I couldn’t remember names of flowers. I fell into a massive depression over the next few months, made worse by the 2016 election; because of my infirmity I had moved back home with my Trump-voting parents. The bravest thing I did that fall was ‘come out’ as a liberal on Facebook. My parents pretended not to notice when I stayed up late that cold November night, huddled with a blanket on the couch, crying my eyes out.

The Christmas 2016 season is a blur. I know I half lived in memories, half in grief, but all in self-pitying misery. I remember reading a passing article about Jay, not knowing who it was, and I remember adding a lost mother to the list of things I cried about. How could the world be so cruel, so unfair? My days were filled with PT and sleep, immobility and exhaustion, and questions, questions like if I can’t do what I love, what I’ve spent years training for, what’s the point? What does it mean to be an artist when you can’t do your art? What is left of me that matters? Is the future only more pain? It would have been better to have died. It would have been better to have died. 

Up until this point I had been unlucky in love. I could never find men attractive, though many friends pressured me to try, which of course had led to not good things. I’d been confronted a couple times about maybe being gay, but I’d shot this down immediately, my face bright red, my heart pounding. No, that’s not it, I’m just picky. Two girls in grad school had flirted with me; I’d accidentally gone on a date with one. I’d felt deeply, gut-wrenchingly uncomfortable about her. But how could I ever unpack all of that when just coming out as a liberal had given me anxiety for days...  

The new year came and I had nothing to look forward to. I could see no happy future. I wasn’t really in my right mind. I would escape as best I could, perhaps in masochistic ways; I’d watch SNL for humorous liberal comfort, and Colbert to feel some spark of angry solidarity. And that’s how I stumbled on Harry. He got me with his puns, because I love those. For the first time in months, I was giggling about something, this charming boy with curls and dimples who had replaced the scream-speech of James Cordon. For once I didn’t turn the tv off after Colbert. 

I began listening to Harry’s songs. As I had no reference for contemporary pop music, his old school rock album was familiar to me in a comforting way. I knew these sounds, these tropes, and yet they didn’t feel stale to me, they spoke to something I was feeling in the present. Because the album, in essence, was about pain, wasn’t it? Pain and escaping it. The lies we tell to survive, the dreams we cling to for hope, the drugs we use to forget. I’d never bought a pop album before, Harry was my first, and I listened to it for hours every day. 

HS1 seeped into my blood, but I’d been on a hopeless, aimless track for so long that the railway tie hadn’t yet switched. One warm, sunny spring day I wrote a note, filled a bag with rocks, and walked to the old bike trail, out past the freeway, into the marshes and pools of abandoned swampy wasteland. FTDT played in my head on a loop as I walked, as my brain hummed with the equation of worth. Was it worth it to stay alive?

Yes. I threw the rocks. I threw them as far as my fragile arms would allow, and they splashed into the murky water. And I turned around and called my mom to come get me. Harry had made something that was beautiful, that was touching, that was real. And if he could... then maybe I could too. Maybe I didn’t have to be just what I’d been before. Maybe I could try creating other things; maybe I could make art that, like Harry’s music, made other people feel less alone. 

There was something magical about that album. Not freedom, per se, but the promise of it, a glimpse of truth that kept me hanging on. 

I began writing poems again, songs. I got into an orchestra program, I healed month by month, I started carrying crystals, I found this crazy fandom and, little by little, grew to understand that my yearning upon looking at baby larry videos was really a cry of sameness that I had never before understood. After the Pulse shooting, during my horrible homebound year, I’d watched Lin-Manuel Miranda give his love is love is love speech, and I’d burst into tears. And I’d not known why. Now I began to realize. I remember the first tentative anon I sent to Phoenix @alienfuckeronmain asking if maybe I was... bi? I remember anxiously awaiting her answer, as if I needed an invitation to join the community, to be valid, to have this not just be a crazy swelling of hope in my chest. She replied while I was wandering through a corn maze in the frigidness of October. The next day I walked into rehearsal and I felt free, free of the way boys looked at me, free of being FOR them, and I’d never felt so... alive. Coincidentally I met my ex girlfriend that day too. 

Through Harry I found this fandom, and Louis. Louis, who has spoken to me on levels I cannot even express, whose class and political and emotional intelligence have challenged me to stand up for things I never thought I could. For me these last few years have felt like a journey WITH Harry. As he started waving them, I started wearing rainbows, just subtly. A knit scarf, a postcard, a bag. I started writing fic, the most healing thing I’ve ever done. I learned to create art away from the singular thing I’d been trained to dump my all into, and I learned that I have so much more to offer, even if chronic pain will follow me in some way or another for the rest of my life. 

I’m so thankful to Harry for taking me on this adventure with him; I don’t know if I’d have ever taken that first step by myself. It was like he held my hand through it all, like this fandom held my hand through it all. Like by being himself, Harry helped me be brave enough to evolve too. 

Through the catalyst of Harry’s art I’ve experienced more happiness than I’d have ever imagined. I cannot wait to go on this next journey, a second album, and reflect on just how far we’ve both come.