#ive got a functioning brain in this skull i promise

[r0b0t1me]

practice practice practice

[artificialqueens]

Laws of Motion / Chapter 9 (Trixya) - DenDenMonMon

A/N: Massive thank you to the authors at the discord server for helping me figure out the characters for this chapter.

AO3 Link

Chapter 9 - Purple.

Katya was running.

She could feel the wet sand between her toes as she ran, the water splashing her shins. The salty wind hit her face as it danced with the breeze of the ocean. The sun above her sent merciless rays of light that warmed her skin and made her sweat.

She was laughing. Katya felt the laughter bubbling at the pit of her stomach, travel up her ribcage, move past her throat and come out in the form of a scream. She looked up at the sky, there wasn’t a single cloud in sight. Her arms went up to her sides and she spun. ‘Round and ‘round she went and the laughter didn’t stop. In all her thirty-plus years of life she had never felt happier.

A few feet away, sitting on the hot sand under an umbrella, Trixie played the guitar. In her tight one piece bathing suit, she allowed her legs to be exposed to the tanning sun. Her feet were buried all the way up to her ankles, and her bent knees supported the instrument against her stomach. Her short nails moved rapidly up and down, as the other hand pressed down the right chords. Trixie’s hair was higher than ever, teased into messy curls that moved in sync with the mild wind.

Katya stopped, her full attention was directed to the beautiful girl singing to her. Trixie’s eyes met Katya’s as her soft voice told her to take her time. That was a strange concept for her. Katya had never been one to ‘take her time’. She always needed to keep things moving, to be constantly on the go. She had taken enough time to heal already. As much as she loved this magical land she was immersed in, where there was no pain, no stress, no anxiety; she needed to return to the real world. She had loved the fantastic microcosmos she had created for herself, enjoying her time with no one else but Trixie, her singing, the sun and the ocean. She had to go back.

With firm steps she walked to Trixie, sat down next to her, and wrap an arm around her shoulders. Trixie was warm to the touch. Katya couldn’t help herself, and leaned to plant a kiss on Trixie’s cheek. Just before her lips could reach the purple blush, everything became blurry. Time stopped but simultaneously went faster. Their surroundings started spinning, and then Trixie was gone. Katya was left alone, pressing her knees against her chest as the world around her rapidly vanished.

That was when she heard the beeping sound again, it was still annoying as fuck. Trixie was still singing, Katya’s ears registered the voice, the soft notes of the guitar came later.

Her eyelids felt heavy, and it took Katya several tries before she could open them. The taste of plastic was gone, the pressure in her throat was not there anymore, and her neck was finally responding. She was able to turn her head towards Trixie, who sat on the same chair as before, legs crossed under herself. Katya wanted to get her attention, but no sound would leave her mouth. She tried to call out Trixie’s name, managing nothing more than a heavy exhale to go past her lips. Same breath that went completely unnoticed, lost among the melodies created by Trixie’s fingers on the strings.

“Trix…”

Did she say it?

Did she scream it?

Did she whisper it?

Katya didn’t know, but Trixie’s hands stopped at once, letting the guitar fall carelessly to the floor. She stood up, not even bothered by the loud bang, or the damage on the instrument; and quickly moved to be by Katya’s side.

“Oh, my God! Katya! Katya, are you awake? Katya. Oh, my God.”

Had Trixie’s voice always been that high pitched?

Katya closed her eyes, trying to physically shield herself from Trixie’s loud screaming.

“Oh, no, bitch, you are not leaving me again.” Trixie grabbed Katya by the shoulders, shaking her to stay awake. “Nurse!” If the constant movement wasn’t enough, Trixie decided to call out for help right next to Katya’s ear. “We need a doctor in here.”

From Katya’s side, Trixie pulled something that looked a lot like a remote control, and pressed every button as she screamed out for help. Katya wanted to ask her to calm down, to stop moving so fast and give her brain a minute to catch up with what was going on. Then, a thought hit her. A fainting memory suddenly reached her mind, scaring her to the core. She tried to get a hold of Trixie’s arm, who said so many things at once between her shouts for help.

“Trixie,” Katya whispered, finally being able to taste the name leaving her lips again. Her brain was still having issues connecting with the rest of her body. She did know that her mouth was not fully opened, her speech was not fully functional, but she had to ask something. “Tri-Trixie.”

“I’m here, I’m here. Oh, my God. You are awake. I can’t believe… Oh, my God.” Trixie was euphoric, she moved quickly from side to side, unsure of what to do. For a moment she just stopped, looked at Katya straight in the eye and smiled. “You are awake.”

There was nothing but genuine concern and tears gathering in her eyes. It was endearing, but Katya needed an answer. She tried to speak again, her throat hurt and air seemed to be lacking. “Trixie, did I… did I–“

Just when she was finding the strength to string enough words into a sentence, the door flew open. A doctor came rushing in, holding the stethoscope around her neck with both hands. She wasn’t even finished asking what was the emergency, when she noticed Katya’s wide eyes. A nurse entered right behind her, dressed in her purple scrubs, and big curly hair bouncing as she ran.

“Oh, girl, it was about time you joined the world of the living again.” The doctor had a teasing smile on her lips as she spoke, her hands moving rapidly around herself.

“She just woke up!” Trixie informed the doctor, still in the high pitch voice. “Alyssa, she’s been trying to say something.”

The nurse, who was checking the IV in Katya’s arm, was the one to reply. “Oh, no, baby girl. It’s still gonna take some time for you to get your voice back. Just take it easy, darling.”

Katya looked at the pair, then back at Trixie. She had addressed the doctor by her first name, which meant they had a certain level of comfort. Katya wondered if they knew each other from before, or if Trixie had spent so much time there that she had befriended the staff. She had that type of personality; it took her a while, but she ultimately would fit in every room she stepped in. Katya had to refocus, her thoughts were all over the place, it didn’t feel like the right time to investigate the nature of Trixie’s social skills. Her mind landed back in the reality of the present, where Trixie and ‘Alyssa’ discussed details of her waking up, and the nurse took information from the machine next to the bed and wrote it on Katya’s chart.

“Shangie, baby, give me my gloves. It’s time for Miss Thing here to get her shit together.” The doctor popped her tongue loudly as she took the latex gloves from the nurse’s hand. “Alright, Miss Zamolodchihuahua.”

Trixie smiled and whispered a small ‘oh, my God’ under her breath but didn’t stop the doctor’s explanation. She simply moved to the side, allowing the physicians to do their job.

“I… am doctor Alyssa Edwards, here saving lives, as it is our Lord’s plan. Yes, gawd. This fine nurse is Shangela.” The young woman waved at the mention of her name. “And here’s the whole tea.” She moved to the side and flipped a switch, a board lit up where several X-Rays had been placed. “You were involved in a fight, and got pretty beat by that beast!” The last word was shouted, making Katya flinched at the sudden sound. “You see here?” The doctor pointed at the image of Katya’s ribcage with a pen. “These are broken, and these two are bruised pretty bad.” She moved to the next image, which showed Katya’s skull. “You were hit on the head, even when nothing major was damaged, you have been unconscious for almost ten days. Girl, you do know how to take a nap, huh?” She laughed and turned the switch back off, her tongue popping again for no apparent reason. “We will run some tests, just to see how everything is working under the hood, okay? But you are fine, girl. Healthy and strong, baby girl.”

A button was pressed, Katya could feel the bed moving and herself being pushed into a sitting position.

“I need you to breath deep for me, Momma,” the nurse asked. “You were having trouble breathing before and we need to know how that’s going. Now, it’s gonna hurt, your ribs are still broken, but I need to check on them lungs, alright?”

Katya felt a wave of fear invading her. All the information was thrown at her and she wasn’t given any time to assimilate it. She had been on a fight, she remembered as much. But she also received a blow to the head, she had been out like a light for days, had broken ribs, wasn’t breathing. Her face probably showed how close to a panic attack she was, because Trixie quickly went around the bed and stood by her side, holding her hand with a reassuring smile.

“Hey, I’m here. They may be loud and annoying but Shangie has been taking amazing care of you all these days, and Alyssa… well, she’s alright.”

“Alright?!” Alyssa asked fully offended, despite Trixie’s laugh. “Excuse you, but I did not absolutely kill it at med school, and graduate top of my class, for you to say I’m alright.”

Nobody contradicted her, and Katya listened to whatever they asked her to do. The check up lasted way longer than Katya would have wanted. It felt like she spent hours being touched and pushed around, tubes were removed from several parts of her body, and needles went in and out without her permission. The mood was incredibly light as she was informed, between jokes and sarcastic remarks, how badly she had been injured and how long it was going to take for her to recover.

Trixie only stepped out once, with the excuse of calling Katya’s parents, who hadn’t been able to make the trip. Trixie promised them a video call as soon as things settled down and Katya had the strength to speak again. By the time she was back, Shangela was making the last adjustment to the medication dripping from the IV, and left the room almost immediately.

It felt unreal. Trixie had waited for this moment for days and, now that it was finally happening, she didn’t know what to do, she didn’t know how to act. She stared at Katya’s tired form, wrapped in the thin hospital sheet, and her head resting on the uncomfortable pillow. Still, Katya had a smile on her face. It wasn’t the open-mouthed one that showed all of her teeth, the one that was so undeniably Katya, but her lips were curved up at the corners. She was there, she was alive and awake. She hadn’t left her.

Katya didn’t leave Trixie.

The first tear ran down unannounced. Trixie felt the solitary drop trickle down her cheek, it followed the wrinkles around her mouth and she tasted the salty liquid on her lips. Then a second tear came, then another, and another. Before she knew it, Trixie was crying inconsolably. She sobbed at the entrance of Katya’s room, overcome with emotions that she hadn’t given permission to fully settle.

Katya extended her arms as much as she could, her hands opened and closed, motioning Trixie to move closer. She did. Still crying, Trixie went to her with shaky steps, and sat on the bed. That wasn’t enough for Katya. With a slight pull of her clothes, she made Trixie lie down next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Trixie felt the erratic rising and falling of Katya’s chest, she was silently crying; which only encouraged her to do the same.

They held each other and cried for what felt like forever.

“I thought we…” Trixie stopped. That was not the time to generalized. Now, more than ever, she had clarity of what she felt, she needed to express her true feelings. “I thought I had lost you,” she confessed. “If I had lost you, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” Katya’s eyes widened in shock, forcing Trixie to provide an explanation. “It was horrible, horrible, to see you just here, not moving or anything. It was as if someone had literally taken my heart out of my chest, tap danced on it, and flushed it down the toilet.”

Once again, Katya’s expressive eyes told her everything she needed to know. Katya was shocked, surprised, touched; and all of that was clear in the endless pools of emotions that were her pupils.

“Oh!” Trixie suddenly exclaimed, removing herself from Katya’s embrace and sitting up a little. “We caught her, Katya. We found the bitch that did this to you and locked. her. up.” She punctuated the last few words for emphasis, causing yet a fresh wave of tears to fall freely from Katya’s eyes. “I wasn’t going to let her walk, not after everything she did to you. Think again, Brenda.”

With the little strength she had left, Katya held Trixie’s face with both hands. Her throat felt itchy and scratchy as she tried to speak, nothing but grunting managed to leave her lips. She needed to do something to express the gratitude she was feeling, so she did the only thing that came to her mind. She kissed her. Katya closed her eyes and, taking advantage of the hold she had on Trixie’s face, pulled her to meet her lips. The first kiss almost didn’t register as such, just two sets of lips barely making contact. Yet, it worked as a gateway for everything they had been keeping, even to themselves, to come up to surface. That one peck led to an actual kiss, then lips were wrapping around each other, then tongues were exploring mouths, and hands were exploring bodies. It wasn’t until Katya yelped in pain, that they realized how far they had taken it.

A soft laughter left Trixie as she rested her head against Katya’s forehead. Their eyes crossed as they tried to keep a hold on each other’s stare.

“I love you.”

Katya heard her. The three words had been whispered, but they had been so loaded with emotion that there was no way Katya couldn’t have gotten the message. It took her a moment to react, Trixie looked at her expectantly, before she started to backtrack in fear.

“Look, listen, I… if it’s too much, I–”

The rest of the sentences died against Katya’s lips as she kissed Trixie again. Katya desperately nodded her head, unable to form words, but letting Trixie know she felt the same way. They kissed again, and again. They were happy to have found the courage to finally let their true feelings out, even if it was through a near death experience like this one.

Still in a tangled mess of limbs, was that Ginger found them. “Ugh! Lesbianism.” The sarcastic remark lost impact as she practically ran to Katya’s side. She hugged her friend, cried out how much she had missed her and how grateful she was that Katya was okay.

Little did they know, that was how they were going to spend the next few days. Trixie slept with her on the bed, and they kissed every chance they had. Alyssa took Katya away for scans and X-Rays, changed the medication, and wrote things down on the chart. Visitors came and went, staying way after the allowed hours and annoying the hell out of Shangela. Trixie would laugh at the way she tried to kick Kasha and Tempest out of the nurse’s break room, woke up Kennedy from her nap on the lounge, reminded Roy he was not in charge at that hospital.

Even when they hadn’t confirmed anything, people already treated Trixie and Katya as a couple. They asked Trixie how she was feeling, and how she was dealing with the whole situation. Katya received many comments about Trixie being by her side every night, and working tirelessly to catch the attacker during the day. They simply looked at each other from across the room, knowingly smiling to their friends’ words, and nodding when required.

Slowly but surely Katya recovered her voice, the bruised ribs were all better, and the broken ones were well on their way to recovery. According to the doctor, it usually took one to two months for those to heal. Katya’s body, which had always been a scientific enigma, was pretty much ready to go by the beginning of week four. No major damage had been found, there was no amnesia or loss of mobility. Exactly a month after being rushed into the ER, Katya was being released. She said goodbye to the people who had literally saved her life as Trixie pushed the wheelchair through the hallways. She could walk just fine, but it was hospital policy. The staff was sad to see them leave; Trixie and Katya had become an important source of entertainment, but they were happy to know Katya was well enough to go home.

Trixie drove them to Katya’s apartment. Even when she had offered her place, Katya had insisted she was okay to go back to that space. Trixie had gone and cleaned the apartment many times in the last couple of days. She moved stuff around, then put them back where they belonged. She was constantly debating if she wanted Katya to come back to a fresh new place, with no memories of the attack hidden between the curtains, or if it was better for her to feel right at home. At the end, she had to settle with something in the middle, since a lot of the furniture had been taken away as evidence, and the cleaning alone left the apartment looking extremely different.

Katya walked with slow steps and stopped right before Trixie could put the key in the lock.

“Hey, Trix?” She waited until she gained Trixie’s full attention to continue. “Did I shit myself?” she asked flatly.

“Wha-what?”

“Did I shit myself?” the words were repeated in the same tone.

Trixie didn’t know where that question came from, and surely showed as much in her facial features, because Katya’s shoulders dropped as she exhaled loudly.

“When I was coming home that night, the night of the attack, I really needed to use the bathroom. Like, I was shitting myself the whole way home. Then… then, it happened. When I was found, did I have shit all over myself?”

She didn’t mean to, but Trixie couldn’t help but laugh hysterically. She screamed in joyful surprise at how serious Katya was. Katya was really concerned about the matter, her straight face only fueled Trixie’s laughter even more, as wrong as it could be. It took several seconds of Trixie imitating a horn running out of batteries, before she could speak again, assuring Katya that no, she hadn’t shit herself during the fight. Katya visibly relaxed her whole body, sighing with relief. That was when Trixie decided not to tease her any more and helped her in.

Katya drank it all in with her eyes. She noticed right away the missing decoration, the couches that faced a different direction, the dinner table that had been removed. None of that really mattered, the only thing - the only person, she needed to feel safe, to feel at home, was holding her by the elbow and directing her to the bedroom, rambling on and on about what they were going to find in the next room.

“Alyssa said you needed some rest, so I came earlier and did your bed; washed the sheets and everything. You said you wanted to get ready for the sergeant’s exam, so I got you some tests examples and practice sheets. I also put some books on the nightstand, in case you wanted to read, and moved the TV from the living room. Now, I know you don’t like–”

Katya stared at her with a smile, making Trixie uncomfortable enough to stop talking.

“What?” Trixie asked with a shaky voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Katya said, shaking her head, the maniac smile still nailed to her lips. “I swear it’s nothing, I… I just love you.”

Trixie’s jaw dropped dramatically. This was the first time Katya actually pronounced the words. They entered through Trixie’s ears, bounced against the walls of her brain, travelled down past her heart, and settled somewhere hot between her legs.

“I love you, too,” Trixie replied, but Katya shook her head.

“Okay, listen. I don’t do feelings, okay? But I do want to let this out.”

Trixie restarted the movement and didn’t say anything. They both sat on the edge of the bed, Katya wincing slightly at the pain.

“Go on,” Trixie encouraged her.

With a deep sigh, Katya did. “I’m not an emotional person, feelings just… ugh.” She made a disgust face to portray what she couldn’t put into words. “It’s not easy for me to say it. I’ve only said ‘I love you’ to my mom, my dad, and a lizard that I burnt.”

“Oh, wow,” Trixie exclaimed. “Did you kill it? How did you burn it?”

“With fire, but that’s beyond the point. Shut up.” Katya tried to flail her hands, pain stopped her from expressing herself like she usually did. “I’m a very direct person. I have no issues walking up to a person, look at them straight in the eye, and say: I am very attracted to you right now, and would like for us to have sexual intercourse, if you are so inclined; and then we can never talk to each other, ever again.”

Her speech was interrupted by Trixie’s laughter. “Casual sex has never been more formal.”

“Hey, I’m serious.” Katya’s statement contradicted itself when she pronounced the words between giggles. “I never stick around after I stick it in.”

“Oh, my God! You better have a point at the end of all of this.”

“I would reach it, if only you’d stop interrupting me.” Trixie lifted her hands in surrender, and motioned for her to continue. “Fuck, all I’m trying to say is that I love you, okay? Like, I really do love you. I feel it in all my rotten, broken bones. I’ve loved you since the night that I saw you crying at the bar, chugging a whole bottle of beer. I was just too disconnected with my emotions to even know it myself. It was easier to pretend I only wanted your hot body, which I still do, by the way, but I also want the rest of you, all of you.”

Trixie bit her lip, maybe trying not to cry, maybe preventing a smile from spreading all over her face, probably just stopping herself from interrupting.

“It means a lot to hear you say that,” she finally admitted. “For the longest time, I thought I was just obsessed with the beautiful girl that wanted nothing to do with me. Truth is, you awoke something in me, and I wouldn’t believe it. I couldn’t be gay. I’ve never felt attracted to any other girl before, but all I could think about was you, and kissing you, and touching you. I guess I settled with being Katya-sexual.”

She said it so easily, with the shrug of a shoulder, that it caused laughter to emanate from Katya in the form of a whistle-like sound.

Chuckling herself, Trixie continued, barely able to keep a straight face. “I mean it. Very quickly I realized I didn’t want to be with anybody else, boy, girl, or anything in between. I guess I knew my fate was to be with you.”

Katya leaned in and found Trixie’s lips again. They shared a sweet kiss to seal their love confessions, with unspoken promises of honesty and loyalty. A kiss that intensified as feelings and emotions finally ran freely. It continued until lungs cried out for air and the only option was to separate.

“Are you tired?” Trixie asked concerned. “How are you feeling about this whole thing?”

“I-I don’t know. I’m still trying to digest everything, I suppose. This was probably one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. I am a trained fighter, Trixie. Not only because I’m part of the Los Angeles Police Department, but, did you know I did martial arts for ten years?” Trixie shook her head, shock written all over her face. “Yes, bitch,” Katya assured her, even when Trixie wasn’t doubting it. “My dad is a karate master. He’s, like, fifth degree black belt. He taught me, from a really young age, when I used to be bullied at school, how to defend myself. Never to start a fight,” she added quickly, a finger up in front of herself for clarification. “But he trained me to defend myself, and I failed him.”

“No, you didn’t!” Trixie’s answer came out a little too quick. “Girl, you should have seen that Latrice bitch. Her face was–”

“Is that her name?” Katya interrupted with a whisper.

Just then did Trixie realize what she had done. She looked down and nodded. “Latrice Royale, she was one of Manila’s clients who didn’t take the arrest all that well.”

“I’ll say,” Katya added with a twist of her lips.

Trixie’s hand went up to caress Katya’s face, her fingers ghosted over the purple bruises on Katya’s temple. “We don’t need to talk about her. She’s away and won’t be able to hurt you anymore.” She stood up and offered Katya her hand. “Detective Zamo, would you allow me to take you to bed?”

Even against herself, and the pain on her side, Katya laughed and took Trixie’s hand. “Jesus Christ, Detective Mattel, I thought you would never ask.”

As she dropped Katya softly on the pillows, Trixie froze. “Oh, God. You know when you said that to me before?” Trixie said a bit nervous.

Katya simply nodded. “Yeah, when you asked to sit on my face.”

Trixie hid her face in her hands as she muffled a string of curse words.

Once again, Katya laughed, pulling Trixie to lay next to her. “Hey, it’s fine. You can do that again right now, you know? Like, I may not be able to move much, but my tongue is surely working.”

Trixie giggled like a little girl, pressing her face against Katya’s arm. “Oh, my God. Shut up!”

They laughed some more before they fell into a comfortable silence. Trixie ran her fingers up and down Katya’s arm, soothing the skin around the cuts and scrapes. A wave of emotions hit her again. There probably would never be a time when she wouldn’t be thankful that Katya made it. Trixie didn’t believe in God, or karma, or the healing powers of good vibes, but she wanted to thank something, or someone for allowing Katya to be there, alive and well. She should probably send a bottle of wine to the doctor; and a promise to the universe to never take what she had for granted.

Immersed in that state of gratitude is that a thought reached her mind. “Hey, while you were, umm, asleep,” Trixie paused, doubting if that was the right wording for what Katya went through. “Did you, like, dream or something? Or was it, like, you blinked and suddenly ten years have passed?”

“Oh, it was amazing!” Her voice filled with excitement as Katya explained. “I could be wherever I wanted. Sometimes we were strolling down Vermont Street, you know, just looking at all the shops. Other times, we met at a beach somewhere–”

“We?”

“Com’ere, Momma.” Since she couldn’t really move, Katya pulled Trixie to prop on one elbow, so they could be face to face. “You were always there with me. I could feel you, I knew you were there. I couldn’t always understand what you were saying, but your voice was always there. I heard you singing, telling me stories. For some reason I remember something about you using Gatorade as lube?”

Trixie screamed. “No! That was my roommate. I can’t believe you were listening to all of that. I felt so stupid talking to myself all the time.”

“Oh, no! Hearing you speak was the only thing keeping me from going towards the light. Well, there was no light, really, but, like, you know what I mean.” An unexpected yawn left her lips, she tried to stop it by closing her mouth, but still her tiredness made it through.

Pulling the sheet to cover them both, Trixie kissed Katya’s cheek. “Go to sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“No, I’m fine. Hey, let’s take a look at those practice tests you were talking about.”

“Girl, no. There’s plenty of time for that. Why don’t you take a nap and then we check those over dinner tonight?”

Katya nodded, her eyes already closing as she curled up next to Trixie. “Would you talk to me as I fall asleep? Tell me about that roommate of yours.”

Trixie did as Katya requested. She repeated the story and watched Katya drift off to a peaceful sleep, wondering if Katya knew there was very little Trixie wouldn’t do for her.

[ruinedthatfriendship]

Start Again

A/N: Okayyyyy so I was talked into posting this, and yes I am aware it is the most trashy fanfiction trope I have ever written, and I was mildly disgusted when I found this in my drafts. 2014 me was a dumbass. This was also evidently supposed to have more chapters that were never completed. I’m actually not sorry about abandoning this one, though... 

I’m sorry this exists?

It took too long. Everything just took too long. It took an ambulance too long to navigate traffic, too much time to get her out of the wrecked car. Too much time to clean up her battered face before anyone even recognized her, too long before she got a bed in the ER. Too long before one of the doctors finally realized what was really going on, shoving a couple residents out of the way with a burr hole kit.

By the time they got the pressure down in her brain, and sent her up to surgery, she’d already had one seizure from the bleeding inside her skull, and she’d crashed in the elevator, arriving to the surgical suite with a nurse still riding on the gurney doing CPR.

By the time anyone found her emergency contacts, she’d been in surgery for two hours, without any word. By the time they got to the lobby, the driver of the car that hit her had been pronounced dead.

Simon hadn’t even known she’d set his information as an emergency contact. And apparently, it wasn’t just him she hadn’t told. Like every other detail of that horrible day, he would never forget facing Dianna and Eddie in the waiting room and spreading his hands helplessly, letting them shout at him while the only thing he had to offer was that he didn’t even know. And they were wasting time splitting hairs, couldn’t they see that? It didn’t matter anymore who Demi had been spending her time with or if he was too much older or her boss or anything else, not when they didn’t know if she was going to wake up. They didn’t have time to argue in the lobby of the emergency department, he just wanted to be able to see her.

A nurse had been anxiously watching the face off, clearly trying to remain professional even though this was probably the most gossip-worthy day of her career. “Mr. Cowell, sir, uh, Miss Lovato does have an advance directive in place and--”

“She made it after she got out of treatment,” Dianna cut in tearfully. “She said it was just in case,”

The nurse gave her a polite nod to acknowledge her, and then turned back to Simon. “We need to speak with you--”

“No!” Dianna protested, squeezing her husband’s hand. “That’s my daughter, he doesn’t get a say, I’m her mother, you can say whatever you have to say in front of me.”

The nurse--her nametag read ‘Angelica’--looked at Simon, waiting. “Sir?”

“It’s fine,” he said heavily, hardly believing that any of this was real. “And it’s just Simon, please.”

Angelica nodded, glanced down briefly at the chart in her hands. “Miss Lovato named you as her medical proxy, which means that you have the power--”

“I know what a medical proxy is.” Simon interrupted, feeling shock numb his body while his heart rate increased. Demi, baby, what did you do? “It shouldn’t be me. Give it to her parents, I can’t--”

“We don’t have that power.” Angelica said apologetically. “It’s a legal document that Miss Lovato signed willingly. We can take you back to wait, she should be out of surgery soon.”

“I’m coming,” Dianna insisted. Angelica just nodded at her; she was immediate family too, they wouldn’t refuse her.

A tense elevator ride later had them sitting in hard plastic chairs in a waiting area outside of neurosurgery, the sign itself almost giving Simon a heart attack. Brain surgery, because someone crossed the median while she was driving. And she’d gone to the trouble, sometime so long ago, to put her fate into his hands.

If what Dianna had said was true, that she’d written these things just after getting out of treatment, then it would have been before they were ever together. It would have been while the extent of their relationship was annoying one another at the judges’ desk, back at the very beginning. When the most he’d ever done was hug her and pinch her nose and call her a brat, she’d looked at him and imagined a day like this and signed her life into his hands.

“It shouldn’t be me.” he mumbled again, staring at his hands in his lap. “I don’t know what she was thinking.”

“You’re right, it shouldn’t! I don’t know what you ever thought you were doing with my daughter, she’s my baby and you can’t just take advantage--”

“Dianna,” Eddie murmured, squeezing her hand. His eyes were angry too, he looked ready to strangle Simon, but they were making too much noise in the waiting room.

Demi’s surgery took six endless hours. And when the surgeon finally came out, Simon already knew. The set of his jaw and the look in his eyes wasn’t good news, he could only hope it wasn’t a death sentence.

“Is she alive?” he spat out in a low voice, fists clenched and not sure if he was ready for the answer.

The surgeon nodded shortly, sending a rush of relief through Simon that was quickly tempered by the rest of his words. “She’s still unconscious, and not anywhere close to out of danger. We’re keeping her heavily sedated for now, and you can see her, but I want to warn you, she does have a lot of tubes right now, she won’t...look like you expect.”

“I don’t care.”

“Her vitals are good, but she did sustain severe trauma to her brain. I trust I don’t need to tell you how serious that is, Mr. Cowell. She’s alive and stable, but I can’t make any promises about her recovery until she wakes up.”

“What are you saying?”

“She may have cognitive deficits. We just have to wait and see. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but I can take you to see her now.”

“What does that mean?” Eddie asked quietly, holding tightly to his wife’s hand. “What...what can we expect?”

The doctor shot him an apologetic look. “We have no way of knowing, right now. Injuries like Demi’s have had a variety of outcomes, from full cognitive function to brain death. Obviously, given that her responses to stimuli are intact, she’s in as good a place as we can hope for right now. If we were to see any negative effects when she wakes up, it would likely be fairly mild.”

Eddie seemed to relax just infinitesimally at those words, and he was first into the room after the doctor, Dianna on his heels. Simon, exhausted in every possible way, didn’t bother fighting them and followed slowly, trying to brace himself before laying eyes on her.

Nothing could have prepared him, really. She looked peacefully asleep, if not for the washed-out paleness of her skin and the unceremoniously shaved side of her head, a line of stitches crossing her scalp.

Her lips were cracked and parted around a tube in her throat, cuts and bruises and butterfly bandages littering every visible inch of her skin as she lay there, looking tiny and helpless in that hospital bed.

Dianna sobbed and lurched forward, reaching for her daughter’s hand. Demi had a grey plastic clip on one finger, and an IV running into the back of her hand, and hers stayed limp while Dianna held on.

Eddie moved to stand beside her bed as well, one gentle hand tracing her hairline and sweeping the long side of her unplanned undercut off of her forehead.

Simon just swallowed hard, temporarily frozen. Demi belonged on the stage, larger than life with her incredible voice, she belonged laughing and stumbling in high heels and bodily attacking him with the promise of getting him sick. She belonged barefoot in the kitchen with her nose wrinkled up in concentration as she tried to cook, on the floor playing with his dogs, on the couch in a heated debate about Netflix. She belonged with fire in her eyes and love and laughter on her lips, she was not meant to lie here, so fragile and broken.

He found himself moving to the other side of her bed, ignoring the glares of her parents, and tracing the word on her wrist as he reached to grab her hand. “She’s strong,”

The doctor awkwardly returned just then, telling them that Demi was technically only allowed one visitor at a time, and Dianna stayed at her bedside while Simon and Eddie went back out to the hard plastic chairs.

***

It marked the beginning of the worst week of Simon’s life. He cleared his schedule and spent it almost entirely in the hospital, as did Demi’s parents. And if she’d been awake, she’d have scolded all three of them and set the record straight. Without her, and unwilling to alienate her family while she lay unconscious, Simon just endured their anger, pushing back only when they tried to keep him away from her. But he still couldn’t really blame them.

He’d had to give his permission for them to pull her off sedation and remove her machines after the third day. Tonight would be the eighth since the accident, and Demi still hadn’t woken. Her doctors were at a loss, explaining only that sometimes the body needed more time. That she wasn’t quite in a coma, yet. Simon knew what they weren’t saying, though. Her chances of recovery went down with every day she remained in an unconscious state.

For the moment, it was his turn at her bedside, while Eddie had finally convinced Dianna to let him take her home and take a breather. Simon was sitting on the edge of her bed and looking down at her face, which only looked more sleep-like and tranquil as her bruises began to fade. He rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand, swallowing hard. “Come on, Dem,” he murmured. “If you can hear me, baby, I need you to wake up. Please,” he added in a whisper, fear threatening to choke him.

He’d lived over half his life without her, and she’d come in and rearranged everything so completely in such a short time. And now he was facing down the possibility of her leaving as suddenly as she’d come, permanently, and leaving him to live the rest of it without her. It was a bleak existence he didn’t particularly want to contemplate. One that might require some tattoos of his own to get through it. But it wasn’t going to be like that. She was going to make it through this.

Simon leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead gently, wishing he could hold her properly. She was cold and still so fragile and she smelled like the hospital and faintly like the burning metal of her accident, and he wanted nothing more than to take her home and deposit her in a warm bath, wrap her up between his sheets and hold her and never let her leave again.

But for that, she’d have to wake up.

“You’re such a brat,” he whispered, trying for humor. “Making us sit here waiting on you.”

Demi did nothing but breathe, her heart monitor beeping rhythmically in the silent room. Simon sighed, and squeezed her hand again. “Come on, Demi. You can do this. I love you, brat, just open your eyes.”

He collapsed back into the chair at her bedside, still without letting go of her hand, and bent his head over their laced fingers like he was at prayer. And he hadn’t given himself permission to cry--he didn’t cry--but there were tears falling onto her cold fingertips anyway, and when Eddie roused him later with a firm hand on his shoulder, it was with a bleak expression and red eyes.

Her father said nothing, and Simon just sighed and stood, feeling his back pop in retaliation for sleeping in that damn chair. And he was just about to let go of her hand when he felt the clip on her finger shift. It was a fool’s hope, he’d probably just bumped it with his own hand, but it was enough to glance back at her one final time.

And it was weak and uncoordinated, but her fingers moved, tightening around his hand as best they could, in a gesture no one could mistake. Simon’s heart jumped in his chest, and he turned to Eddie without ever letting go of her. “She squeezed my hand,”

And then Eddie was smiling over his shoulder with tears in his eyes, and Simon glanced down again to find her brown eyes looking up at him with such a quintessentially Demi bemused expression that he almost broke down crying again in relief.

“Hey, love,” he said softly. “You scared the hell out of me.”

Demi coughed, making a face, and looked straight past him. “Dad?”

“I’m right here, Demi.” Eddie assured her.

“Dad, my head hurts.” Demi whimpered, scrunching up her face. Simon reached over to press the call button at her bedside, earning a tentatively grateful nod from her father for it.

Demi dropped his hand quite suddenly, reaching toward Eddie, and Simon tried not to feel hurt. She was here, she was alive, she was awake. She was talking and aware, her brain wasn’t damaged, she was here. He’d take what he could get.

“I don’t understand,” she was saying weakly, looking between Eddie and Simon as quickly as she could without moving her head. “What--I…”

Her doctor and a nurse interrupted her, Dianna hot on their heels. “Baby!”

Demi’s face initially brightened, but then crumpled again in confusion. “Not you,” she was murmuring, almost to herself. She’d let go of Eddie’s hand now, too, and stared down at her own fingers, turning them over in examination almost as if she wasn’t quite sure she was real.

“How are you feeling, Demi?” the nurse was asking, an expression on his face that said he was entirely over the number of people crowding his patient.

“I’m...did I overdose?” Demi asked in a small voice, still not looking at anyone.

“No,” Simon rushed to reassure her, wishing he could be closer than where he’d ended up, almost in the doorway. “It was a car accident, darling.”

Instead of relief, Demi’s face only registered further alarm. “A car accident? Why...why was I driving? I’m sorry, Mama!” she burst out, panic in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to, I don’t know what I did, I--”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Dianna reassured her. “You’re okay, baby. The other driver was on the wrong side of the road. Not you.”

“I wasn’t supposed to leave,” Demi whispered, sounding terribly ashamed.

“Baby, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dianna was almost crying again. “You’re okay, Demi. It’s okay!”

“Demi, is it okay if I ask you some questions now?” her doctor cut in, smiling politely. Demi nodded weakly, and Dianna reluctantly took a step back.

“Okay, can you go ahead and tell me your full name, hun?”

“Demetria Devonne Lovato,” Demi returned, still looking down at her hands like she didn’t quite know what to do with them.

“How are you feeling right now, Demi?”

Demi shrugged. “My head hurts. Everything...kind of hurts.” she tried to play it off, but Simon could see the pain in her eyes. “I guess it makes sense if I was in an accident,” she mumbled.

The doctor nodded swiftly. “We can start you on some painkillers. Something non addictive, don’t worry. Do you remember your accident at all?”

Demi shook her head, looking agitated again.

“Okay, what’s the last thing you do remember?”

She hesitated. “Um, therapy. My session in the morning. I’m guessing it’s not today anymore, though?”

“Demi,” Simon started, ignoring all of the looks suddenly shot his way. “You didn’t have therapy that morning, darling.”

Demi made a familiar irritated face, starting to wave him off in her usual fashion, before she paused, her eyes flicking over his form rapidly. “Wait a second.” she said slowly. “I know you.”

Simon’s entire body went numb at her words. “Demi?” he said hoarsely.

She snapped her fingers impatiently. “You’re...I sang for you, you didn’t stand up. American Idol. You’re the judge guy, the rude one...Sa--Si--Simon. Simon Cowell.” She looked momentarily pleased with herself, and then made a face that would have been comical in any other situation. “Why the hell are you here?”

[it-happenedtome]

It wasn’t anxiety, it was brain cancer

For years, I struggled with food. I would have random bouts of nausea and vomiting, or even just hours of nausea with no vomiting (which can feel worse). I would be terrified to leave my house at night and go somewhere because I would always be scared of getting sick and having to leave early. I felt guilty burdening my friends, family, and fiance with this fear and EVERY doctor I saw said it was some other stupid and incorrect diagnosis. I’ve heard I’m allergic to gluten, I’ve heard I have acid reflux, I’ve heard it was anxiety and all in my head. Nothing seemed to work and no medicine helped. I began to fear that people thought I was making it up to get out of things or leave places early, but the truth of the matter is that it killed me to leave so many important events early and miss out on memories. I took every test imaginable and never got any answers. This went on for 2 years.

Then, the headaches started. They were at the base of my skull, and excruciating unlike anything I’ve ever known. They felt muscular because they were so close to my neck, and they were pounding and constant. They started off with pain when I would yawn, stretch, go from sitting to standing and vice versa, etc. Then the pain became 24.7. I couldn’t function. I started yoga, I started seeing a chiropractor, I did everything I could to relieve the pain. Nothing helped. I used to be awoken by the pain at 3 in the morning and go to the kitchen in a daze to grab an ice pack to fall asleep on so that it would numb the pain enough for me to doze off again. 

I was naive and I thought nothing bad could possibly happen to me because I’m young, and I have the hubris of believing that I’m invincible. This blog is so people understand just that--it happened to me. Listen to your body when you KNOW something is wrong. I let doctors blow me off and blame anxiety instead of taking me seriously and I suffered for longer than I should have. 

One night, I felt dizziness like I hadn’t before. I blew it off, but the next morning I was super nauseous. That night, I went to the ER thinking I could just get an IV with some fluids and feel better. I mentioned my symptoms and the doctors thought it was vertigo because of the dizziness. I’m so lucky the doctor there suggested getting a CT scan of my neck because he was worried the chiropractor had messed me up. Once we got the CT, we saw something poking out from my skull. We did a brain MRI and were told there was a golf ball sized “mass” on my brain, on the bottom left side pressing on my cerebellum. The muscular headaches were caused because the tumor was pushing on my left ventricle artery and hurting the muscle, and the nausea was because my brain fluid wasn’t allowed to drain because of the tumor. This meant I had 2 years of fluid buildup in my brain and this was making my body want to dehydrate itself by vomiting as much as possible even though that didn’t help. It was also because the tumor was right on the center of the brain that controls nausea (lucky me). This all happened at like 3 am on January 16, 2018.

On January 18, I had brain surgery. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Cancer wasn’t even a word anyone had used yet. We didn’t even consider the possibility that this wouldn’t be benign. I was extremely lucky with my surgery as I had NO complications and he got the entire tumor. Within a month I was driving again and my recovery was great. I had no headaches, dizziness, or nausea. I felt so lucky my problem had been solved. I was back to work and eating whatever I wanted, sleeping through the night, living as I always should have.

After pathology failed to give us the 100% clear that my tumor was benign, we tested it at several other places and were told the news that I had medulloblastoma, which is an extremely rare, aggressive pediatric cancer. No one knew where it came from. There is no history of anything like this in my family. I got lots of tests done which thankfully proved it hasn’t spread, and then started radiation.

Before radiation, I had to go through a very invasive and private process for about 3 weeks, one I’m not comfortable sharing online. This process was horrible. I had to inject myself every night, get blood tests every day, discuss things I’d never worried about before, and then have another surgery. It was an emotional roller coaster and it only weakened me. 

I was told radiation would be easy and a breeze. I had to do 31 rounds and from the first one I was miserable. I was told I would be able to keep working throughout radiation but the first night I was a wreck. I emailed my HR guy off the bathroom floor and told him I wouldn’t be coming back, and I didn’t know for how long. I was vomiting for hours at a time, unable to eat, get out of bed, or even function normally. I had to go to everyday, 31 days in a row. I lost all of my hair as well as about 15 pounds. At one point I was vomiting blood and needed another procedure. Radiation was pure hell.

Once it was over, they gave me a month to recover before I started chemo. My chemo regimen is cisplatin (causes loss of hearing and messes with my kidneys), then one week later vincristine for 3 weeks in a row (causes extreme fatigue), then one week later 2 days of cytoxan. This regimen, only 1 round, completely killed me. I was vomiting, nauseous, and dry heaving for 12 days straight. I lost another 20 pounds. At a certain point I was delirious from starvation and dehydration. When you get to a certain point of physical torture, when it’s 4 am and you haven’t had relief in days and it feels like there’s no end, you start to wish you wouldn’t wake up anymore. You go to a very dark place and start dreaming of euthanasia and start wondering what the point is of even fighting to live when being alive is TRUE torture. No one understands this. They just say things like “don’t give up, fight through this, you’re a survivor, it’s all only temporary!” To them I say, try going through the emotional and mental trauma of having cancer at 25, and then going through the physical HELL and trauma that only a cancer patient can understand. I finished that first round but I told my oncologist I can’t go that heavy for the next 5. (I have to do a minimum of 6). She’s slightly changed my regimen and has promised me it will be easier to deal with. We’ll see.

I’ve been up since 5 am because my appointment with my surgeon is today because my incision was infected. The antibiotics he prescribed have been killing me and I won’t be taking them anymore, as I have become very resistant to doctors and the things they want me to put in my body. I want to take some control back. I also will get my MRI results to pray and hope that there isn’t anything of concern in my scans. This is my current cancer story and I can’t help but cry about it every day so I decided to write about it as the sun comes up.