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the-witches-you-couldnt-burn · 3 years ago

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Living with what you’ve done

Uhhhhh

UHHHHHHH WHAT

Ok so I started writing the 100 special but then I got to 120!?! Wtf when did this happen?

Though I would like to thank each follower personally I have social anxiety and would rather not randomly message strangers following me. Here is my public thank you!

Idk what I did while writing this but it seems I managed to copy-paste the beginning four seperate times. This brought the word count up to 5.9k but it is now edited and brought down to 2.3k

Inspired by my friend @deltaxxk who loves angst and told me I have to write a follower special

Other prompts used: One, Two

Also! There are movie references within this fic, if you get them all you get a virtual lollipop 🍭

Ao3

Disclaimer: THIS FIC IS MAJORLY ANGSTY PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS IF ANY OF THE WARNINGS WILL TRIGGER YOU

Warings: blood, fire, death (+graphic descriptions of dying), injuries, grief, human trafficking and mentions of psychopathy

———————

“Robin we’re out of time! We must leave, we’re out of time!” Her yo-yo strained with tension as she swung into a goon, sending their body flying away from her team.

They had gotten a lead on a meta trafficking ring that involved some of the Gotham elite’s children disappearing. The lead brought them to the dock, GothDrill’s warehouse sat just off to the right. Its fluorescent lights signifying signs of life, Marinette knew most weren’t there willingly.

“Make more time!” He snapped back. Ladybug fumble slightly before regaining her footing, she wasn’t expecting the coldness in his tone.

She jumped back into the fray and watched from the corner of her eye Damian take on four goons by himself. She stifled a sigh before punching the man in front of her square on his jaw, ‘must he always prove himself when he has already?’ Damian edged himself closer to the garage doorway of the shed before disappearing into the building.

Focus her attention back on the battle around her, she saw Red Hood downed under a steel beam. She rushed over, and with her enhanced miraculous strength to lift the offending metal. He groaned with pain, the beam had pinned his legs, forcing him to lay stomach down. Wrapping his arm around her shoulder, supporting the majority of his weight to get him to his feet. Pain throbbed in his left leg and they stumbled onto the dock to hide behind down GothDrill crates.

Ripping the seams of his pant leg, she revealed a dark purple bruise that was rapidly spreading. She also discovered the beam had broken his femur and shattered his kneecap, how he wasn’t screaming in pain was beyond her. Pink light danced between her fingers before drifting down to his wound. Jason bit his hand to prevent any cries from leaving his mouth. He didn’t want another confrontation in his state.

The sound reached her before the light did. Jason panted as he looked up to see what distracted her from his healing. Reflections of orange and yellows dancing across her cerulean eyes. “Damian.” She whispered frozen stock still.

Something within her very core snapped and cardinal urges overtook her common sense. Shooting up like a bullet she sprinted towards the blazing inferno, her ears numb to the world around her.

Inside was worse than the burning exterior. She could see where the explosion originated from, big barrels of flammable chemicals blazed white with heat. The smoke and burning chemical gases penetrated her airways, coughs racked her chest.

She could see flames running up the walls and the lit barrels but the rest was black. The smoke was a blanket of darkness that wrapped around her.

And then she heard it. The screaming.

Multiple voices, so raw with pain, masculine and feminine, old and young. Running towards it she hoped to spot Damian but luck wasn’t on her side. Instead she found the trafficked civilians, their bodies red with burns with their hair and clothes set ablaze.

She ran full speed at the wall nearby, shattering the melted bolts. The fire blazed brighter at the new source of oxygen. She directed the victims out, the dove towards the water. The goons had fled during the initial explosion leaving the Batfam free to help.

She looked down at the bodies of those who didn’t survive. Some were burned beyond recognition, she kept looking, scouring for Damian.

She heard Red Robin calling her name, she looked up to see the scaffolding holding the roof breaking apart and falling to where she stood. She felt her body tackled out of the way and another thunderous crash hit the floor.

She was dragged outside and placed into the care of a newly arrived ambulance. Her eyes, red from the smoke and ash, looked out the back door of the vehicle. Firefighters and police had arrived on scene along with news reporters and the public. Families of the trafficked were reunited with their lost love ones and others mourned their deceased. Red Robin stood there, watching her.

“You can’t just follow me into fire.” She croaked to him, her oxygen mask muffling her.

The whites of his black cowl narrowed and his fists clenched. “Then don't run into fire,” he growled at her before walking off.

Her body moved without thinking, removing her oxygen mask against the protests of the paramedics. Ladybug reassured them she’ll be alright and that they should help the others who were more injured than she. She walked back towards the building but the black-clad figure of Batman stopped her stride.

“You’re not using your cure.” He stated. Her eyes widened, the cure could save his missing son, save the trafficked from their injuries and deaths. Who was he to deny the will of a god’s favoured?

Using the cure in Gotham was always straining and the Batfam knew that. On multiple smaller occasions, she was prevented from using it due to the amount of damage and crime being reverse causing serious health concerns they observed in Marinette. But she never thought it would also be denied on an occasion like this.

“I have to! Robin cou—“

“No, you could die.” He cut her off, her foggy mind becoming more enraged.

“And he could live!”

Without a reply he injected her neck with a sedative, her body collapsed from the drugs and exhaustion. The world going dark around her.

+++++++++++++

Three days after

Her blaring phone distracted her from her dissociative state. She was staring lifelessly at her TV, she could say what happened in the show even if her life depended on it. She scrambled to her phone, Dick’s name lit up the screen.

She accepted the call, answer with a hoarse “hello?”

“Marinette? Are you able to make it over we have some things to tell you.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Pressing her phone to her ear with her shoulder she ran around her apartment, grabbing her keys, shoes and jacket. Rushing out the door she rapidly fired questions at him, “What is it? Did you find him? Is he there?” All of which were answered with silence.

“It’s best that we discuss this when you get to the manor.” And with that, he hung up. The click seemed to echo in her car, even though she knew it didn’t. Driving towards the outskirts of Gotham where Wayne manor resided, she felt a spark of hope rekindle in her chest. Although Dick didn’t give her much to go on she still hoped they found him and everything could go back to how it was.

Fate wasn’t merciful to the naive it seems.

Her world shattered around her as she saw the crisped cape on the table. The smell of burnt blood permeated the room. Her eyes stayed locked onto the cloth as she spoke, “But this is only his cape, not his body. He still could be alive somewhere! He is injured and hurt and we have to find him!”

No one spoke. Their eyes flicked to one another.

Jason limped in her direction, his crutch clicking against the stone flooring. He placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, his eyes brimming with unshed emotions. “The cape was found with the body, everything else was unsalvageable except the cape.”

A silent “we’ve found him, just not how we wanted,” resounded throughout her being.

She glared at Bruce, “He could be alive if you didn’t stop me! I could have saved him!” She lashed out, tears pouring down her cheeks.

“And we would have been having this exact conversation with Damian about why we didn’t stop you. The best outcome for this situation was you living.”

“No the best outcome was both of us being given a chance at survival” Marinette screamed at him, his face was emotionless. How could he be so uncaring to the fact of his youngest son dying?

Running out of the Batcave and manor she gasped at the cold night air. A sob escaped her mouth. Her head banged against her steering wheel, tears dripping onto her pyjama pants. There was no way she’d be able to sleep tonight.

++++++++++++

Twelve days after

Fire danced in her peripheral. A medley of bright oranges and golden yellows. She remembered the times when the two of them would watch the sunset in silence, sipping on hot chocolate and green tea. This blazing inferno was different. Its colours more violent and foreboding.

The screams. They were different from the ones she heard that night. They were his screams.

She saw her body encased within his burnt arms. Damian was little more than a burnt corpse, his eyes blazed green and his bone was replaced with metal pipes. The cure resurrected him but he was not wholly there anymore.

She awoke screaming. Not in control enough to remember she had neighbours; mentally pleading that they’d understand. They knew of his disappearance but not of his death. She was still heavily in denial.

She isolated herself away from everyone, afraid she would hurt anyone else that got close. She couldn’t stop wanting to hurt Bruce for making her unable to use her cure or the goons for setting the place alight and killing her fiancé. She wanted to go scorched earth.

She snuggled into his pillowcase, his faint scent of honey was still present. She willed herself to fall back asleep, his scent surrounding her. His pillow, his shirt, his ring; but she was missing him.

++++++++

Two hundred and eighty-seven days after

Red trickled down her finger. It took her a moment to move the fabric away from the dripping blood source but managed to before it stained. It had been years since she had pricked her finger with a needle, but her subconscious must have needed to feel something; even if it was pain.

She looked around at her juvenile pink room. She had moved back into her parents six months after Damian’s death. Three months into her stay and she still had most of her belongings in boxes. The only decorations in the room were scattered commissions and a wooden blanket.

Looking down at the puddle of blood that was growing on her white desk she wonders if Damian bled before the fire cauterised his wounds. She had researched that burning to death was one of the most painful ways to die, it takes hours, each nerve ending burning. The burn victim usually passes out after a few minutes but she could imagine Damian desperately trying to put himself out, only to find more fire encompassing him.

His cape was bloody so she hopes he bled rather than burned. Or maybe he was crushed by the falling roof and killed instantly. She hoped he didn’t suffer for long.

Similar intrusive thoughts plagued her mind constantly but she kept her focus on her art to push through the days. Gazing down at the wound she found Tikki had held her and Wayzz had wiped the puddle with tissues.

Today she’ll live for them. Tomorrow she might live to try her father’s new recipe of cinnamon macarons. Last Tuesday she lived to hear Luka’s new song. Next month she might live just to pat the stray kitten that lives in the alley behind the Chinese restaurant two streets over.

++++++++++

Five hundred and twenty days after

She froze at the sight before her. Thinking it was another hallucination or she was having another nightmare. “You thought,” The glass in her hand cracked under her grip. Her brain couldn’t process what was happening. She hasn’t disassociated this much since the day he ‘died’.” That by faking your death, you could find out who you could rely on?”

“TT, yes. Now that I know everything can go back to the way it was.” She swigged her glass again, wishing it were whiskey instead of water. When they had met, Jon and his family had warned her that he was severely emotional constipated from his upbringing but this was in the psychopathic area of emotionless.

“No.”

“What?” His shock almost seems real. His eyes had widened and his body language was unsteady.

“No, we aren’t done talking about this! How ignorant do you have to be to think this won’t affect our relationship? Won’t affect me?”

“It wasn’t real. I’m here.” He stepped forward, arms rising to hug her. He never was one for physical contact. She pulled back, grabbing a steak knife and placing it between them. He told her he had set the place aflame. He found the lead for the trafficking ring. He planned it all. And now he was back, almost a year and a half later.

“That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt! I’m going to have nightmares for the rest of my life! How selfish, how, how stupid do you have to be to not consider what it does to someone who cared about you?!”

“Cared?”

“Do I need to spell it out? We’re done. I don’t want to see you ever again,” She seethed. “You think everything can go back to how it was before? Well, it can’t. I spent months of my life mourning over a guy who wasn’t even dead. Who didn’t even care about me enough not to toy with my emotions. My life isn’t a game Damian!”

“I only did this because I thought—”

“I don’t care. Get out. Out of my house. Out of my life. Just get out.”

“I didn’t intend to hurt you, I just wanted to know.” Hot, rage-filled tears ran down her cheeks. She jabbed the knife at him, stopping inches before his chest. She had backed him down the stair and to the front door. Neither of her parents were home and he was more unpredictable than ever.

“I hope you can live with what you’ve done, le miel”

#maribat #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #damian wayne x marinette dupain cheng #daminette #angst #major angst #psychopath! Damian Wayne #grieving! Marinette Dupain-Cheng #faked death

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petri808 · 3 years ago

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1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

Inukag *warning this chapter might hurt*

Staring out through the windshield of his car, his darkened home was the picture-perfect mirror of the pain settling into his soul. Inuyasha had no idea how he’d even managed to make it home without driving off a cliff or plowing himself into a stone wall, because his body and mind were completely numb.

‘Read’ but not answered…

Was it a good sign that the woman at least looked at it? Inuyasha rested his head against the steering wheel and closed his eyes. He’d fucked up… again— just like the night of the accident. His eyes squeezed tighter shut as the emotional pain of everything slammed him with the force of a freight train. This was bad… bad, bad, bad… “FUCK!!” He roared into the still night air. With Kagome’s memories coming back, she’ll remember everything, and it was over. He’d had this second chance to reverse all the damage and he went and fucked it up again.

Not surprisingly, Kagome didn’t respond to his first text, so he typed out a final message for the night: ‘You’re mad at me. I get that so I’ll give you some space but I just wanna say good night Kagome. I love you -Inu’

‘Read’ but not answered…

It was all he could do for now, his only solace knowing Kagome had her mother to comfort her. Inuyasha sighed, long and deep as he pulled the keys from the ignition and dragged himself into his home. His body felt heavy with exhaustion. A weight crushing him down like a boulder. It took all he had to just drop his keys to the floor beside the entrance and shuffle into the bedroom instead of falling right then and there. He didn’t want to move anymore. He deserved the silent darkness of this tomb-like home along with its judgmental echoes of the life it once held.

The next morning after a restless sleep, Inuyasha called out of work. When would he be back, he couldn’t answer them? Part of him didn’t care anymore. Fire him, it wouldn’t matter to the walking dead. Miroku called in concern for his friend, but Inuyasha let it go to voicemail. He didn’t feel like talking to anybody right now, not when he knew it would have a ring of ‘I told you so,’ mixed in. That wasn’t necessary. Didn’t he feel bad enough?

A good morning text sent… left on Read…

An apology text….

Another apology text…

Voice messages left randomly through the day…

All left on Read and unanswered.

The anxiety filled hours ticked on with Inuyasha left curled up in a ball under his blanket. He’d done a number on his living room to physically release the anger he felt at himself, and now he was just dead to the world. All the drapes were tightly closed to the sunlight outside and he only left his bed to attend to bathroom matters. He didn’t wanna give up all hope, but with his mind in tatters and thoughts only of despair, there was nothing left to cling to.

By nightfall Inuyasha was convinced Kagome had truly given him up and he couldn’t blame her for it. This was all his fault. Him and his stupid big mouth. There was no denying it. He shouldn’t have argued with her. Just like before, instead of using his ears to listen, he responded with ego when he had no right to chastise her over not telling him something. The whole reason he was in this mess is because he never listened to her when it mattered the most— and there in lay the heart of it all. Neither of them had the opportunity to talk about what caused the original fight or process what drove Kagome to leave. Inuyasha thought he’d understood its origins and accepted responsibility for it, but clearly, he was wrong, and this new situation is most certainly what would have taken place if Kagome hadn’t crashed her car— a debilitating depression.

If Kagome didn’t want him anymore, then there wasn’t anything left for him in this world as far as Inuyasha was concerned. His yoki called out for her, wept for her loss, and with it all the energy in his soul to care slipped away. He was simply empty without her. No appetite or desire or thirst, just an ocean of dread, and waves of numbness dulling all his senses.

How much time had elapsed, how many days gone by? The clock ticked away hour by hour like a death knell with Inuyasha simply waiting for a release to come. All the messages left on his phone were from everyone other than the one person who could have brought him out of this funk. But her ringtone never came. It is what is it. Was it day four? Five? Six? Inuyasha couldn’t tell, but feeling his body starting to let go, he decided to send one last message to Miroku before shutting off the phone for good.

At the Hoshii residence, Miroku and Sango were on edge dealing with the crisis. Sango had been doing her best to help Kagome to cope with her pain, but Miroku was growing frantic over Inuyasha’s refusal to answer him. He’d driven by the man’s home and knew the car was there, and that was it. No one answered the door and with all the curtains closed he couldn’t see inside. Finally, on day five while they were visiting with Kagome, Miroku heard his phone ping with a message.

Inuyasha: thanks for being a good friend. Tell her she was the only one I’ve ever loved

“What the hell?” Miroku blurted out as he mulled the message over and over in his head.

Sango rushed over at the concern in her husband’s voice. “What is it?!”

“I think that idiot is planning to kill himself— I better… I better go.”

Hearing the commotion, Mrs. Higurashi also came out of the kitchen. “What’s going on?”

“It’s about a message Inuyasha just sent,” Sango explained as her husband was digging around in his small pouch and grabbing his car keys. “Miroku is gonna check on him.”

“What did it say?” Mrs. Higurashi questioned.

So, Miroku showed the woman his phone. “It doesn’t sound good.”

“Oh, dear!” She reached for a jacket near the front door. “I’m coming too! Sango will you stay?”

“Of course, I’ll be here with Kagome. You two go.”

It was a good thing that Miroku had held onto a spare key to Inuyasha’s home that he’d been given and simply forgotten to return. When he and Mrs. Higurashi walked through the door, chills crawled over his skin. It was evident that the house had been closed-up for several days, no windows opened, or ventilation, just a silent graveyard feeling with a fog of musty air mixed with the scent of rotting kitchen garbage and body odor. It was revolting and only heightened the pairs concern for the occupant.

“Inuyasha?!” Miroku yelled as they made their way through the dark home but received no response. The man wasn’t in the living areas or bathroom, so the logical option was the master bedroom at the far end of the hallway. ‘Please be alive,’ he prayed.

Once inside the room, they could see an unmoving body underneath the blankets and if the buildup of body odor told a story, it was sure to be his friend underneath those covers. “Inu?” Still no response.

Mrs. Higurashi turned on the bedroom light, and the brightness finally caused the blanket to shift ever so slightly. “Oh, thank heavens,” she gasped out in relief as she held a hand to her chest. He was still alive.

Miroku rushed over and yanked the blanket off. “Inuyasha!” Tears instantly gathered in the panicked man’s eyes. The state of his friend was heart breaking. Inuyasha had lost weight. His skin was gaunt and pasty white, hair matted and dirty. “Oh, fuck, we— we should call emergency!”

“No…” Inuyasha croaked out and buried his face deeper under his arm. “Let me die.”

“Fuck no, you idiot! Kagome still needs you!”

“Better… off… without me…”

‘Seriously?!’ It was rare for Miroku to get so upset, but in that moment, the anger that bubbled up to surface took over and his arm flew up ready to strike his friend. “You stupid—!!”

“Don’t!” Mrs. Higurashi yelled at Miroku. “He needs help, not anger right now.”

That seemed to snap Miroku out of his emotions, but the tears broke free. It was hard to see his friend in this position, just so frail— nothing like the tough hanyo that he’s known for years. Even after the death of his mother, Inuyasha didn’t break down this badly. Miroku grit his teeth to his own pain and pushed forward. “You idiot. Dying isn’t gonna help Kagome. So, whether you like it or not, we’re gonna help you.”

Mrs. Higurashi now moved around the bed to where she could sit beside Inuyasha. Her own eyes were clouded too, but the woman pulled on all the strength she could muster to hold it together. She placed a hand on the arm he was using to cover his face. “Inu, Miroku is right. Kagome is hurting just as much as you, and I don’t think you’d want to cause her anymore heart ache by going out this way.”

“But she hates me…” Inuyasha whimpered weakly. “Please just let me go.”

Mrs. Higurashi had to squeeze her eyes shut to hold back her tears. Her heart broke for the man. Gently, she pulled his arm down, her voice shaking as she spoke. “Inuyasha, you’re like a son to me, and I won’t let me son die. We’re gonna figure this out, but you need to live please, for her, for all of us that cares about you.”

Inuyasha’s eyes cracked open just a tad. “I’m so, sorry,” he mumbled. “So… sorry…”

She kept her voice as soothing as possible. “I know, and so does Kagome.” Mrs. Higurashi then turned to Miroku. “Do you think you can get him into the shower and clean him up? I’ll make something for him to eat. He needs something in his stomach immediately.”

“Y-Yeah, I think I can do it.”

It took both of them to help Inuyasha into the bathtub. He was so emaciated and dehydrated, that he had no strength left in his body, just dead weight. While Mrs. Higurashi left them to deal with the kitchen, Miroku stripped his friend of clothing and ran a bath to bathe him. Inuyasha offered no resistance, just a few tears flowing down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” Inuyasha kept repeating.

“Don’t apologize to me. Save it for Kagome. I can’t believe you’d think we’d be okay with you dying! You’re my best fucking friend you asshole! I want my kids to grow up with their uncle!”

“But I keep screwing up.”

“And that’s life. It ain’t the end of the world yet.”

“Feels like it.”

“Whether you believe us if not, Kagome is hurting cause she in love with your stupid ass too. You can still fix this.”

“Don’t know how.”

“And that’s why we’re here.”

“Thank you…”

Inuyasha’s eyes started to roll back, so Miroku slapped him hard in the face. “Oi! Don’t you be dying on me now! So, wake the fuck up!”

“So… tired…”

“Gonna clean you up and momma Higurashi will get your strength back, so hang on just a little longer…”

Now cleaned up and dressed in something comfortable, they prop Inuyasha up in a recliner since he was still struggling to hold up his own body weight. He simply had no reserves left to draw from and under human standards wouldn’t have lasted this long. A hospital was better equipped to deal with this kind of situation. Inuyasha should have been put on IV fluids to hydrate him faster along with special supplements pumped directly into his system because after this long, the organs would have started to shut down, and his stomach would struggle to process anything. But Mrs. Higurashi made due to honor his request, starting with a bland rice water chicken broth of starch, proteins, and vegetable nutrients to re-prime it slowly. She also sent Miroku to the store to purchase drinks with electrolytes given to infants when they are dehydrated. It was a painstaking process to feed Inuyasha spoonful by spoonful.

“I need you to help me fight Inuyasha,” the woman coaxed the weakened hanyo. “So, you can live through this and see Kagome again.”

Tears flooded Inuyasha’s eyes at the mention of Kagome’s name. “After everything, why would you still want me around her?”

“Because you love her, and she loves you, and as long as there’s love it can find a way. Son,” she placed a hand on his, “I know it feels like the end of the world, but it will get better if you want it to. Do you want it to?”

“Yes,” he sobbed.

Her hand now gripped his tightly as her expression grew determined. “Then fight for it!”

It took several bowls of soup before gradually Mrs. Higurashi started giving Inuyasha fish and small pieces of chicken meat to eat. She had to stick to easily digestible foods, but at least his coloring was improving, and he could feed himself now. The sun has already set, by the time Inuyasha could finally stand up on his own.

“You’re lucky you’re a hanyo. That’s what’s probably saved your life.” Miroku expressed to his friend.

“I know.” Inuyasha could feel his demon half working harder to regenerate his physical body. Though while his body was recovering, his heart still felt broken. They kept telling him that Kagome still loved him so there is hope, but a part of him struggled to believe it. He’d already hit such a low point, to suffer rejection now was almost too unbearable to even comprehend.

Miroku continued talking. “Inuyasha, you’re not gonna do this alone. We will be there to support both of you, but it’s time you confront this. You and Kagome need to talk… about everything— even though she may not remember, a lack of communication is exactly what triggered this whole situation.”

“I know…” Inuyasha sighed.

“All couples go through struggles,” Mrs. Higurashi added with a comforting tone in her voice. “A strong relationship doesn’t come from a having a perfect one, Inuyasha. It’s developed through adversity. How well a couple can take the challenges thrown at them and grow from it.”

“You remember what happened with me and Sango, we almost didn’t make it because of my bad behaviors…”

“Your damn womanizing,” Inuyasha cut in.

“Yeah, that,” Miroku grumpily agreed. “She had to give me a harsh ultimatum to wake me up. But I did, and now look at us. This is your harsh moment, and you can choose to wake up, or loose the best thing that’s ever happened to you. It’s your choice.”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Inuyasha ran a hand down his face. “Of course, I don’t wanna lose her.”

“Then are you ready to see Kagome?” Mrs. Higurashi questioned.

Inuyasha exhaled slowly. “Ready? No…” he was terrified to face the woman. “But I’ve gotta do it.”

#inukag #inuyasha #inukag au #inukag fan fic #inukag fan fiction #kagome higurashi #missing memories #ch 11 #petri808

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waynewifey · 4 years ago

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Fading away. —

Pairing: Jason Grace x Roman!DaughterofPluto!Reader

Sumary: after moths of over working, a colapse makes you get into a coma and reflect on your feelings.

Warnings: coma, angst, Pluto as a caring dad, fluff at the end.

Words: +-3k.

A/N: This is my first Percy Jackson Franchise fanfiction, so take it easy on me. This is also my biggest and favourite one. I hope you like this! My requests are always open.

(Y/N) (L/N) had a good reason to hate Jason Grace. How could she not? Jason was so annoying, self centred, selfish, stubborn and worse of all? He dated Piper McLean. Piper was great, (Y/N) knew that and they seemed happy together. But, still, he chose Piper, not (Y/N), his girlfriend back at Camp Jupiter, who he totally forgot about. How come Percy remembered Annabeth but Jason wouldn't remember (Y/N)? And when he recovered his memory, he chose Piper. But she also loved him still, and seeing him hurt like a bullet going straight through her heart. She decided to spend a year at Half-Blood Camp to stay with her half-brother Nico Di Angelo when Gaea were defeated. She thought she could manage to see him almost every day, but she couldn't. So she started doing anything to get her mind occupied. Going on meaningless quests, travelling to New York randomly, volunteering for literally any service in the camp and barely sleeping — because sleeping meant dreams.

"It doesn't have to be like that, (Y/N)." Her brother gave her another shot of Nectar. The sunlight that entered Hades' cabin was leaving slowly as they talked, (Y/N) leaned on her bed watching her fingertips become solid again.

"I'll learn how to do it right and I promise I won't push myself too much, but I can't stop practicing." She avoided eye contact with Nico, feeling ashamed of herself. After all, she was supposed to be the one taking care of him, since she was older. She came back from a "quest" for her father, that was staying a weekend on the Underworld. She started using Shadow Travel to get there. The problem? She had no idea how hard it was, and she almost died every time. He sighted.

"I'm not talking about Shadow Travel. You should talk to Jason and sort this out. You're almost killing yourself everyday doing the craziest stuff just to keep your mind off him. He already broke up with Piper, what's stopping you now? I'm your brother and it pains me to see you suffering, I won't just sit and watch while you literally desapear." He got up and walked to the door. The (h/c) girl forced a smile so he believed she was fine. Nico left the cabin.

After hours reflecting and thinking, she heard the trumpets that announced the convocation to a game of Capture the Flag. Since she was feeling better, she changed her clothes and walked outside. The teams were: cabins 1, 4, 5, 9, 12, 14, 18, 21, 23, 27, 28, 29 vs. cabins 2, 6, 7, 10, 11, 13, 15, 16, 20, 24, 25, 26. They started the game. (Y/N) had to protect the boundary with a kid from Hipnos' cabin while a group attacked the opponent's flag and another protected their territory and their flag. Everything was going as planned, she hadn't seen anyone yet. Out of the sudden, she saw a blond guy running in their direction with a sword. Oh hell no, Jason Grace wouldn't attack her like that. But he did.

"What the hell?!" She screamed, reacting to the blade flying in her direction. Her teammate was asleep. She defended herself with her own sword and counterattacked. He invested against her leg, trying to make her fall. Her instincts took place, she jumped, attacked again and they started a meaningless battle. Jason looked the same as always. He was almost the same Jason that used to take her on cute dates in New Rome. But he fought like a greek. And that was when it hit her, he changed. The mixture of love and hate made her loose her senses for a bit, giving Jason the lead. He focused on her leg but hesitated to hit it, giving her time to get back on the fight. She knocked him to the floor, her foot on his chest and her blade on his neck, when she heard footsteps approaching quickly. Of course. It was a trap. She turned around and saw a son of Hebe holding her team's flag running, followed by two daughters of Hephaestus. She grabbed a knife from her belt and threw it to his leg, hitting exactly where she wanted. She then grabbed Jason's blade and Shadow Travelled. For a moment everything was fine, while she drowned into darkness, but then she couldn't get out. She saw her father's face mixed in the dark. He raised his hand and touched her face, than she was back at the forest. Realising not even a second had gone through, she attacked the — injured — boy and the two gigantic girls at the same time. She wasn't really expecting to defeat them, just trying to win some time so, hopefully, someone would come help her. The boy dropped the flag and got a small sword. The two girls had hammers... oh. The three of them attacked at the same time and she protected herself with Jason's sword, which flew away. She was out of hopes when a figure appeared beside her and started fighting them.

"What are you doing here?! You're not supposed to help me, we're enemies, remember?" She said, fighting Hebe's son.

"I guess you're welcome then." Jason replied smiling, fighting the hammers-girls. (Y/N) sighted in annoyance. Seconds later, her teammates came running from the enemies' territory with a flag and the three-people group surrendered. Everyone started screaming and celebrating. (Y/N)'s head hurt with the noise and she looked to her brother, feeling numb.

"Hey, can we talk?" Jason said, getting in front of her with a big smile. He was proud of himself for helping her? Of course he was. He was going to take all the credit for her team's win. The anger rose inside of her burning everything. She furrowed her eyebrows and with the last energy that remained in her body, she tried to Shadow Travel for the perhaps hundredth time that day.

She fell into the darkness while feeling her body desapear quickly. Her heart was very accelerated but then it stopped. She saw herself at the barks of Lete's river. I'm dead., she thought. The desperation started taking over. She remembered the face of all her friends. Her siblings, Hazel and Nico. Her mother. Her best friend Reyna. Camp Jupiter. New Rome. The Lar Vitellius. Lares? Lares! Maybe she could go back as a ghost! She would at least see her friends again.

"Didn't expect to see you this soon." A voice said with humor. She turned around, as always enlighten by her father's presence. But his face was sad. Not the everyday-sad-Pluto, but the my-daughter-just-died-sad-Pluto.

"Am I d-... dead?" The anxiety forbid her from crying in front of her father. The one she never knew and once she did, she didn't want to disappoint him.

"Yes and no. You see, my darling, there are things more powerful then death. Right now, your physical being is exhausted from travelling through darkness and light — which I told you not to, but we'll talk about this later, you have a decision to make. You're body is surrendering to Death out of hopelessness. But your soul, on the other hand, still fights for the heart beating in your chest. And your conscious, the controller of both body and soul, has to decide which one of them you'll support right now. As Lord of the Death that's all I can say to you. But as your father, I would like to say that we have a room for you in the castle, if you'd like that. And also, I feel obligated to show you what is happening on Earth." When he finished his words, an image formed in the air, sort of an Iris message, but no one saw them. (Y/N) saw herself laying on the grass, surrounded by some campers, Nico and Jason.

She was watching them from above. Jason put two fingers on her neck, trying to feel her pulse. She — the one in the Underworld — gasped as the blond boy whispered 'nothing'. She glanced at her father, who had a pained expression as he stared at Nico freaking out. Her brother had his hands on her chest and was murmuring something in greek. Then, he opened his eyes, filled with tears of desperation, and glanced at Jason, who didn't look any better. She wanted to scream and go back to up there, but her voice wouldn't come out of her throat.

"Half of her is already gone." Nico struggled to say. Everyone around gasped. "I can't Shadow Travel with her, it- it would k-kill the other half..."

"Let's take her to the Infirmary. Everything's gonna be fine. She'll be okay." Will Solace had appeared in the crowd and kneed down to take (Y/N) in the arms, being helped by the other two. As they walked, (Y/N) held herself in her arms, sobbing. She didn't want to die, not like that. The image faded away and Pluto hugged her. He never did that before. She left out all her emotions through the cry. Her father caressed her back and gently kissed the top of her head.

"Now you see, my child, what those on Earth are going through. You have a family up there. And if you'd ask me, Jason Grace is a good person, even being a son of my brother. You have a choice, so make it wisely." Pluto said, not backing away from the hug. She nodded and he immediately knew what her choice was. "You know I'd love to have you here with me, but I'd love even more to see you happy. Don't be reckless. And listen to your brother. You don't have to worry to come see me, I'll make sure to visit you during your recovery." As he said that, a white door appeared out of nowhere. "Here's your carpool." The girl started to walk to the door, when she heard Pluto say: "(Y/N) I lo-... Good luck." She smiled to him and went through into the door. It felt like eons in the nothingness. She felt so much pain all over her body. Then she gained conscience. She didn't knew how long it had passed. She also couldn't open her eyes or say anything, but she knew she was laying down something comfortable, a bed, perhaps. But she could hear perfectly well.

"... and I'm so sorry you had to die for me to gain the courage to say this. Please come back to us... Come back to me. Nico barely leaves this room and nor do I, Will had to force him to go eat. It's not the same without you, (Y/N/N), it really isn't." Jason's words gave her the urge to cry, but she couldn't. It was like her body had shutdown completely. She felt his warm hands on her cold ones and after that, a door was opened. Footsteps. Only one person. Jason didn't move. Someone sat down next to them.

"Dad- I mean, Hades said she will be okay." It was Nico's voice. He sounded extremely tired.

"Didn't he say that last month?" Grace was annoyed, but he didn't stop holding her hand.

"I know, I wish I could do more... I'm... I'm sorry Jason." The blond sighted.

"I should be the one to be saying that. I know there's nothing else to do. I'm sorry for putting the blame on you. It's just- if we've talked before, nothing of this would have happened. If only I was brave enough..." (Y/N) felt weak and her consciousness was back at nothing again. When she heard something again, it looked like a lot of time had passed by, but she wasn't sure at all. Jason's voice was happy as he told her his plans to the future.

"I realised you would like to work with me training the legion. You're obviously skilled and the payment is quite good. And I've heard they are planning to build a village here as well, but I don't know if you-..." Every time she tried to stay conscious, she felt weaker. 'Rest', her father's voice said inside of her head, so she let herself.

Some time...? A long time...? She didn't knew. But the next time she heard, she was way stronger. She waited until then, so she could stay longer and try to understand her emotions. She heard almost an entire day. Her friends entered and left cabin 13 — she found out that she was there. Some of them talked "to" her, some just sat there in silence. When alone, Nico talked a lot about Will Solace. (Y/N) smiled mentally. Then Jason entered. She could already recognise the sound he made walking. He sat beside her bed and held her hand, as usual.

"Hello, princess. You look better." She reunited all the strength she had storage and sent it all to her right hand. She softly squeezed Jason's hand, for a small portion of second, trying to say 'hi'. She felt exhausted. He gasped.

"She just squeezed my hand!" He screamed, laughing. Nico jumped out of his bed, laughing as well. They both stared at her, waiting for more. "You're there, right? I knew you were! It's been long months, but you're getting better. Don't work too hard. We'll see each other soon, don't worry." He kissed her forehead. After that, it was easy for her to let go and dive into her sleep again.

She was slowly getting better. She noticed her comas were smaller now, and she got stronger every time. She started communicating by squeezing people's hand. One time for 'yes' and two times for 'no'. But it still was exhausting. She met with her father a couple times through dreams, but it never lasted long. She was sick of it. She wanted to jump out of the bed and run through all the camp. She was alone with Jason, as he talked about the last time he went to Camp Jupiter, telling every change. She slowly forced herself to open her eyes. It wasn't for too long, just enough for her to see the big smile he had while talking, her favourite blond hair and how he gesticulated while speaking. By that time, her feelings were completely lined. She declined her childishness and stubbornness to accept the fact that she obviously loved him. Her lips were able to form a small smile. He hadn't noticed her yet. I can do this, she thought.

"J." She whispered for the first time in five months. Her eyes were already closed again. He gasped.

"Did you just say J? That's me! I'm here, i'm right here, love. Can you hear me?" She squeezed his hand one time. Yes. He chortled. "You're so strong. I miss you so much." He started softly crying. She squeezed his hand two times. No. Don't cry, she wanted to say. "Alright, 's fine, 's fine. Gods, you're coming back. I bet Aphrodite is watching us closely." He chuckled but suddenly stopped. "I forgot we haven't talked about that yet, i'm sorry. I don't wanna be intrusive, you know. It's just, by what Nico has told me, well, you still liked me." She squeezed two times. "That's... that's great, love. But don't worry about that just yet. You should take some rest now, my love."

Five days. She had woken up every single one of them, but only listening. No squeezes, no talking, no looking. Just storing strength. She knew she was close to fully waking up. She was already able to keep track of the days. It was a Sunday, the day she received the most visits. It should be morning, because she only heard Nico's snorting. She slowly opened her eyes. The same place. Different clothes. She wondered who had changed them. Perhaps Will did. She systematically moved her arms, pushing herself to sit. Her back was laying at wall. She took a deep breath. It was going fine. She wanted to wake Nico up, but she decided to wait to see if she would be able to actually stay awake. About an hour later, Nico woke up by himself. He yawned and turned to her bed. She looked at him with a big smile. He jumped out of bed.

"Holy shit, (Y/N)! You're up! How- Wait! I need to- Wait! Don't fall asleep, I'll be right back!" She blinked slowly to sign 'ok'. He was back moments running later with a bunch of teenagers in pyjamas. They all froze at the door, staring at her. Hazel, Frank, Annabeth, Percy, Jason and even Piper. Hazel was the first one to wake up from the trance. She ran to her sister and hugged (Y/N).

"Ouch." She managed to say, reacting to the tight hug that made her head hurt.

"Right, sorry! I forgot. Wait, you speak!" Hazel answered and laughed. All of the others joined in, amazed by her friend, and started talking, telling everything she had missed. (Y/N) couldn't speed properly, only a few words like 'hi', 'ow', 'miss' and 'food'. Later that day, Will came to check on her. He said everything looked just fine, but that she should rest.

"Hey." Zeus' son said, once they were alone.

"Hi."

"Gods, it's so good to finally hear you again. I've talked to myself for a long time." They giggled softly. (Y/N) wasn't showing any signs of it, but that day had been extremely tiring. Her entire body hurt but she couldn't give up just yet.

"I... heard." She whispered. "A bit." Her eyes tried to close but she opened them wide, fighting her own nature. Jason noticed that.

"Hey, no need to over do it.” He brushed her cheek with his thumb.

"Sleep... here." She begged, placing her hand beside her. He froze for a moment, embarrassed. And then, with a rubor across his face, he sat on the bed beside her. She laid her head on his chest and quickly fell asleep.

“Go to sleep, love. We have all the time in the world.”

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #fluff imagine #percy jackson imagines #percy jackson fanfiction #jason grace #jason grace x reader #jasonissocutehelp #nico di angelo #nico di angelo x reader #daughter of hades #pls send requests

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kidney9-9 · 4 years ago

Note

the reader is tom (holland’s) girlfriend and she gets diganosed with cancer?

Hi anon ! hope you like this! Thank you for sending this in! just a small disclaimer, I don’t know lots about cancer, so I sort of used the symptoms I went through with my autoimmune disease. If you have any questions, send some asks or message me :))

Masterlist

Tom Holland x Reader (Fluff/Angst) Warnings: cancer, sickness, swearing, mention of blood Word Count: 1.4k

You coughed harshly, leaning away from your boyfriend as he watched on worriedly. “Babe, you alright?” He asked, rubbing circles into your back. You nodded your head to him, as another coughing fit went through your body, and you covered your mouth with your arm, closing your eyes tight. “You sure?” Tom questioned, as you leaned over the couch, starting to feel lightheaded from all the coughing.

“I’m fine,” You pushed out, breathing in deep after sitting back up straight. You gazed over to him, apologetic, “I’m really sorry, I think this cough is just bugging around my system a little longer than usual.” You explained, wiping the small tears from your eyes that formed from the fit.

Tom pulled you in for a hug on the couch. You sighed into his chest, as he wrapped his arm around you. “Do you think we should take you to the doctor’s? It’s been about three weeks, babe.” Tom mumbled down to you, softly wiping your hair from your face.

“I’m fine, just going to stick it out for another week. I’ve got too much work to do, I don’t think I can afford a sick day.” You explained back to him as he sighed at your answer.

Tom kissed the side of your head, speaking up again, “You sure, babe? I want you to feel better.” You nodded back to him, smiling at his care for you. Tom kissed your head again, making you giggle back, but it caused you to cough again, and you quickly stood up away from Tom, leaning down into your cough. He stood up quickly, holding your hair and your shoulder as you squeezed your eyes shut, feeling your throat and chest start to burn.

“It’s going to be okay, babe.” Tom whispered affectionately, furrowing his eyes in concern at you. You breathed in, slowly standing up. You wiped over your mouth, glancing down at your hand, and scowling at the blood from your cough. Tom leaned over, peering down at your hand with a gasp, “Fuck, you sure you don’t want to go to the doctors?” He mumbled, gazing back to your face with a frown.

“Yeah, probably just coughed too much or something…” You trailed off, gazing back to your hand with a grimace.

Another week passed by, and you managed to finish your work. Tom kept insisting to take you to the doctors, but you declined. It just pissed you off that this thing kept bothering you. First the coughing and blood, and now you were even started to lose your energy faster. A pounding was constantly in your head and your chest always hurt when you laid down, and anytime you moved, you found yourself more stressed and exhausted.

You were barely even lifting your eyes awake when you stood for longer than an hour. Of course, you didn’t show Tom any of this stuff, you even told him that blood in your cough was a one-time thing. It wasn’t though, it happened every day now, and you tried drinking some water to sooth your throat, but it never helped.

Today it was the worst it has ever been. It was a Sunday, so thankfully you didn’t have work and Tom insisted on staying with you when he heard your scratchy voice over the phone. “I made you some soup, babe. And got some breadsticks as well; maybe we can watch a movie?” He called out from the kitchen. You slowly grinned to yourself, feeling lucky to have such a caring boyfriend. You cleared your throat to respond but groaned when you felt a knot of blood come up again.

You quickly spit it out in one of your tissues, “Thank you, Tom. You’re the best.” Your voice came out finally, as Tom started to pour some soup into a glass bowl for you.

A loud crash rang out from the kitchen, making you jump up from your seat, “Babe, you okay?” You exclaimed, rushing into the kitchen. Tom glanced back up to you, then down to the bowl with a sigh, “I’m sorry, it spilt on me.” He explained.

You shook your head, “It’s all good, don’t worry. I’ll go get some supplies.” You responded, coughing out from your reaction. You shouldn’t have ran like that, since now you started to feel faint and you couldn’t breathe in correctly.

You took a few steps away from Tom as he thanked you, before you chocked a cough out again. Black spots rained in your vision as you took another step. “Are you okay?” You heard Tom ask, but you couldn’t respond. Another step in front of you, you tried breathing in but you were coughing uncontrollably, blood spilling from your mouth.

Your next step failed, and you crashed onto the floor, passing out.

When you woke up, you were in a dimly lit room, and you frantically moved your head around, trying to see where you were exactly. “Tom?” You questioned, seeing him sit next to you, with his head hanging low, and his hand on your bed.

He quickly sat up, head hitting the wall behind him, causing him to groan. “Babe, you’re awake! How are you feeling?” He exclaimed, hand sliding into yours and griping it lightly. You tilted your head back to him, and glanced down seeing yourself in a hospital gown, “What happened?” You asked, confused.

Tom sighed, brining his other hand to his face and rubbed it. “Babe...we’re running tests right now, and I swear, you are going to be alright. I promise you will,” You cut him off by squeezing his hand, and shaking your head to him.

“What- what’s happening to me? Where are the doctors? Just tell me, please.” You ranted out, feeling scared as Tom frowned back to you, as another heavy sigh came out from him. He started to rub his face again when he felt the tears start to form, and you frowned at his red face.

“Please Tom, what’s wrong?” You questioned, trembling from anxiety as he shook his head, leaning down to you. He kissed your forehead, and squeezed your hand again, harder this time.

“They…they think you have lung cancer. They’re running tests again, but you’re going to get a biopsy soon… I don’t know.” Tom explained, as tears started to run down both of your faces. You shook your head again in denial, scoffing at him in disbelief.

You furrowed your eyebrows together, ripping your hand from his. “I don’t have cancer, what the fuck? I have a cold or something, it’s fine… I want to leave; I know I don’t have cancer!” You exclaimed, groaning at the number of IVs in your arms. Tom shook his head at you, trying to smile sympathetically but he couldn’t.

“Please, babe, stay here.” Tom begged, as you tried moving up in bed, making you cough harshly. You glanced over to him, fear in your eyes, “I can’t have cancer.” You responded, crying as the pain in your chest doubled, when you moved around.

“It’s crazy, but we’ll make it through together, okay babe? I love you and I will stay with you. We’re going to do get through and be happy, and you’re going to be healthy again. Please, stay here, I want you to be okay, I love you.” Tom pleaded, as the door opened with a few of the nurses. You tried not to look or focus on them, and only gazed at Tom.

You hesitantly nodded back to him, gaining a small grin from him. “I…We’ll get through it.” You repeated his words, closing your eyes, and laying back down with a shiver. “I love you too.” You finished up, as Tom leaned down to kiss your cheek.

You didn’t know what else to say or think weeks later, knowing you have cancer. You started your treatments immediately, but you felt almost numb to them. Tom was always there for you though, holding your hand and giving your shoulders or cheeks kisses randomly, and whispering sweet words to motivate you. Sometimes you couldn’t get out of bed, sometimes it was because of how sick you felt, and other times it was because of how you coped. Tom still stuck with you through the lows, supporting you through everything and anything.

He loved you just like before, as you loved him.

Taglist: @lozzypoz321 @belleknows (taglist open!)

#tom holland #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland/reader #tom holland/you #tom holland fanfiction #thank you for sending this in!#love y'all #kidney9-9

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onyourzeus · 4 years ago

Text

all alone | kyh

ykcyj ➝ arskyh

title: all alone pairing: kang younghyun (youngk of day6) & you genre: heavy angst, fictional universe words: 3.7k

inspired by: 50 proof by eaJ (give it a listen if you please, here) author’s note: this is my first fic in years, feedback appreciated.

content warning: alcohol use, swearing, description of anxiety and loneliness

any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!

It’s not a matter of when, but of how you’re going to stop yourself. They keep saying it heals with time, but no one ever tells you how much time you need to feel completely fine again.

So, instead of waiting for that moment, you take it upon yourself to numb the pain inside. It’s easier to keep it bottled up, then pretend to wash it away with age-old whiskey taken from a nearly empty cabinet.

Your friend reminded you to buy anything other than 50 proof alcohol, but that’s what’s left on your grocery list nowadays.

She’d come by to keep you company, but there’s always an excuse. An emergency meeting, a family gathering, a blind date across town.

It’s okay, you text her repeatedly. At this point, you’d rather she focus on herself than judge you for decisions affecting your life.

The moment they get angry at you, it is time to push them away.

You’re not about to be the reason for another falling out; another heartbreak; another memory turned sour and hard to swallow.

A big gulp of fiery hot liquid comes into contact with your throat, and you exhale with a wince. Ah, just the way you think you like it.

But no one’s stopping you, so why not keep going? You haven’t reached your limit yet, even though you’re not sure what that would look like. It’s no matter, though, it’s your apartment— your bathroom floor, your money, and your own fate decided.

Once the tears trail down your cheek, you have a moment of self-awareness. What are you doing? Glancing at your slippers, sweaty oversized shirt, and frizzy strands of hair sticking out of your head— when exactly did you start looking like this and decided, “Yeah, I feel comfortable in my own skin.”?

You dart your tongue out slightly, tasting salt on the corner of your mouth. It’s wet as the tears keep coming. Tonight’s one of those nights, you laugh sarcastically.

You’re probably going to play russian roulette with your medicine cabinet tomorrow; you’ll either be lucky and find a couple of painkillers lying around or be reminded of the emptiness that surrounds you. Usually it’s the latter, but maybe you’ll be lucky this time?

You scoff loudly at the idea. Another gulp of alcohol, and it stops the tears momentarily. Just so you can indulge in the sound of your heavy breathing, vision blurring the sight of your kitchen.

Your phone lights up on the couch, buzzing and emitting a soft light that disturbs the dimness of the room. It can’t be your friend, it was a double date night with her co-worker, or some shit you don’t really care for. Although you remember pieces of memories that include you being in the same exact situation a few months prior; it’s a bit hazy now, probably due to the alcohol.

But also because you use what coordinated strength you have to approach the ringing sound. You can’t make up the caller ID which should be the first red flag that you shouldn’t answer the phone.

You never do when you’re like this, but something inside you just doesn’t care anymore.

You slide your finger across the screen, fumble through the circles you can make out until a static hum goes off louder than usual. Finally on speaker mode, you put the phone back on the couch as your body drops down on the floor.

Resting the bottle on your side, you cradle your heavy head against the palm of your hand and exhale a long drawn out, “Heyyyyyyy, who’s this?”

God, you sound horrible.

You hear nothing but static, and wonder if there never was a call at all. “Is anyone there? Hello? Hello?” You’re starting to get annoyed, grabbing hold of the bottle’s neck and taking a short swig. It causes you to cough, your fist pounding helplessly against your chest.

“What are you doing?” He sounds sad, disappointed, and concerned on the other end. You don’t know who it is, but the knots in his voice deem familiar to you, somehow.

“Who is this? I’m gonna call the cops on you,” you drawl out, not understanding your own logic. “Why are you calling me at—” you try and check for a watch on your wrist to no avail, so you leave the question at that.

Hiccuping, you blurt out, “I don’t know who you are.”

“It’s Younghyun. Leehi keeps calling me, asking to check up on you. Did you receive her messages?”

Frankly, you understood at least two words with his reply. Leehi and messages, immediately you seethe with anger once again. Your friend on the double date texted you? With droopy eyes, you check your notifications, and the caller is telling the truth.

10 text messages left unread, and none of those words she sent mean shit.

“Tell her to fuck off.”

“I won’t do that. Where are you? At the bar or in your apartment?” He keeps asking all these questions he doesn’t have the right to in the first place. You feel your face scrunch up in frustration, figuring out who’s so concerned at your well-being so randomly on a Thursday night.

“I’m not telling you anything. I don’t know you! Please stop bothering me, sir,” your voice cracks in the end, a semblance of fear creeping up onto you. This is why you never answer calls with alcohol controlling your system.

“It sounds quiet in there, so you’re in your apartment,” he continues, ignoring your nonsensical pleas. “I’m nearby, can you please stay put for another 20 minutes or so? I’m coming to check up on you.”

“I told you I’m calling the police if you even come near my doorstep!” Your frantic tone causes your body to shiver, welled up tears leaving eyes that start to sting.

No one has been at your apartment for months; it’s not that they don’t ask. You don’t want them to come in. You don’t want anyone to see how you’ve been when you’re all alone.

He calls your name on the other end, and again, and again he whispers it like a gentle reminder. A song to soothe your anxious mind, and it works. For a moment, you remember the feeling of comfort and security in the form of arms wrapped around you, and this very same voice to calm you down.

“It’s Younghyun, okay? Please take deep breaths, you’re okay. You’ll be okay. I’m on my way very soon,” Younghyun instructs. His hushed voice contrasts your shaking whimpers, yet you follow what he says with relative ease. It’s so familiar, fragments of flashbacks filling your mind one after the other.

“Please unlock the door soon so I can come inside. I don’t have a spare key anymore,” he continues. That’s weird, he always had it to access your apartment whenever he wanted. You were the one to insist on that, too, since he basically lived with you for… a while.

Reality tries to get in the way of the memories, you block it off for just a little bit more with the last drop of alcohol. It should last you throughout the night.

In a daze, you do what Younghyun told you: unlock the door, and take deep breaths. You don’t want to be completely sober, so you refrain from drinking water even if your throat has been begging you to.

A lucky soju bottle hides itself from an empty carton of milk inside the fridge, so you grab it hastily. No shot glasses needed, you go straight for it.

Younghyun didn’t tell you to stop, so why should you? But something in your stomach suggests you do. It’s a wincing pain you’ve had before, but this time it digs deeper than that. A liver concern, dehydration, or perhaps guilt?

You couldn’t think any longer as you heard a soft knock against the front door. Followed by Younghyun coming in quietly, his steps barely audible. As if he’s never set foot in your apartment before. Or at least, maybe it feels different this time.

As if you haven’t seen him and remember his presence anymore.

“Hey,” he greets you quietly, and his voice is so much better in person. “It’s dark in here.”

You’re not sure how to move forward from here. You’re back on the floor, head laying weirdly on the couch that your neck has started to hurt. Your hands hold tight onto the soju bottle as if it’s about to be taken away from you. It’s the one tangible thing keeping you grounded. Your mind begins to float away again upon seeing Younghyun’s face.

He has that effect on you, but you didn’t consider it ever happening in months.

You think you’re sleepy, but really you become hyper aware of his every move. It’s just hard to see with droopy eyes, and the silent steps he takes on the hardwood floor.

He turns the light on the hallway to the bathroom, and even with its faintness you squint at the source of any kind of brightness in the room.

“Sorry, I just didn’t want to step on anything,” Younghyun apologizes. He places a plastic bag on the kitchen counter and takes out what looks to be a bottle.

Definitely not alcohol, you frown.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you,” you tell him first, the croak of your voice so heavily dissimilar to the friendliness of his. Yours sound guarded, unsure of yourself. “I have this,” you add as you sway the soju bottle in the air. The liquid spills on top of your head, and Younghyun is quick to take it away from you.

“H-hey—” you argue, but the cold bottle of water has now replaced your source of alcohol, and your lips continue to curl downard. Younghyun shortly laughs at your reaction, but you don’t find it funny.

“That was mine.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Give it back.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Prick,” you mutter under your breath. “Don’t let it go to waste, then, drink.”

Younghyun sighs, shaking his head while meeting your figure on the floor. The soju bottle remains on the counter, out of your reach. His slanted eyes point towards the neglected bottle around your grasp.

You find yourself staring mindlessly, his face showing smooth textures and a hint of base make up doning his features. You’re in awe, just like before, of the beauty in front of you. So close to touch, just the tip of your fingertips to graze against his skin.

If only you didn’t feel so guilty and looked like shit.

“Staring at me won’t make you sober up any sooner,” he chastises you, sitting with his legs crossed. He looks dapper, a fine suit without a tie and two buttons opened up. Was he at a photoshoot? A company dinner? A date?

That last thought shoots a strange numbing sensation on your chest.

“Why are you here?”

Younghyun looks taken aback at your bluntness. It doesn’t seem like you’re drinking that water anytime soon as your focus shifts at his presence in your apartment. He lets it go this time, then, entertains your question for the sake of your satisfaction.

“I told you. Leehi called me. She’s been worried about you recently.”

“Oh, has she?” You sass him just for the sake of it.

“Yes,” Younghyun doesn’t give in to your bluff, his voice suddenly firm and unnerving. “She cares about you a lot, and I understand if she hasn’t had the time to come see you very often anymore, but she works long hours and—”

“Why are you defending her? Did you just come here to lecture me like a little kid? I know how the world works, Younghyun. I know people can be busy, and that they have their own fucking problems to deal with. I know, okay? Fuck, I know that!”

The words just leave your mouth like poison, it was ready to spill out of your guts all of a sudden. It just needed an opportunity to.

You didn’t expect it to come tonight— in front of Younghyun, out of everyone.

Maybe that would slap him cold and hard with what’s going on. Maybe that’s the final straw with you, not the uninviting welcome to your apartment, not the refusal to drink the water he’s bought you, but the words you have spoken. It’s always been the most hurtful.

You avoid his gaze, suddenly feeling small and even more guilty of how you’re acting. You know you’re not supposed to lash out like this, you hate angry confrontations that can be avoided. But this is why you drink alone, cry alone, and fall asleep when the sun goes up— alone.

Younghyun was never supposed to be here witnessing this.

Just like how you predicted, you see him stand up and walk away. It’s what you deserve, right? No one ever wanted to stay.

But you don’t hear the door slam shut following his departure. You don’t hear his footsteps trudge their way out of the door, out of your life once again.

Younghyun approaches the corner of the living room where the heater is, and turns it on.

“I don’t know how you do it, but I won’t be able to stand the cold like this,” he says with the same gentle, knowing tone of his. “I hope you don’t mind me turning the heat on a little bit. Are you warm, though?”

You don’t understand what’s going on.

Yes, it’s been a chilly autumn season but not that you cared. The alcohol hits you from within, igniting unfound frustration, anger, and desperation in every corner of your soul then almost instantly numbs it all for you.

With parted, dry lips you manage a meek shake of the head. The sweat on your shirt dried up, and your shorts aren’t doing any better making you feel cozy either. You compensate by hugging yourself, the condensation of the bottled water touching the goosebumps on your skin.

“You should probably drink that before it gets lukewarm,” Younghyun suggests, walking three steps forward to sit next to your figure. He gives you space, almost like a shield in between your bodies in which either of you are afraid of breaking.

Finally, you relent to his wish and chug the water in seconds. It cools your throat along with your state of mind. A bit more stable now, with the way you see things, and process your surroundings. Your conscious eyes land on Younghyun’s worried gaze, and you struggle not to fall back into them.

“I’m… not really mad at Leehi, I hope she knows that,” you quip quietly. The haziness drifts away from your consciousness and floats midair. It clings to the barrier in between you and Younghyun, frosting up unseen glass as Younghyun studies your features carefully. And he waits for more of what you have to say.

You don’t follow through anymore, so he adds to the conversation. “I’m sure she knows. She’s just concerned about you.”

You reply with a subtle nod, wishing you had more water to drink.

“I’m worried about you, too.”

And he says the magic words that start the first broken piece of glass stopping you from seeing him eye to eye. You turn your figure away from his sitting one, knowing that the more you attempt to find the answers in his eyes the harsher the tears will come from your own.

“You shouldn’t be. I’m fine.” What a massive fucking lie, you think bitterly. It’s not like you to lie out loud, You say what’s on your mind when needed. And if it isn’t, then you know best not to bother others and keep it to yourself.

“C’mon, we both know that’s not true,” Younghyun disagrees— in the most polite way he can that it hurts. It hurts to hear him pander to your childish behavior right now, to have him tiptoe his way around your insecurities.

This is what you didn’t want to happen, and yet in the end you meet your own demise this way.

“How can I help?” He urges on.

He can’t.

“I want you to feel better.”

You won’t.

“Please tell me how.”

You don’t even know the answer to that.

He sighs, but he tries hard not to let it bother you. Younghyun’s always been like that, so perfect and so accommodating. Wasn’t that supposed to be a sweet gesture from a lover? To know your needs, and meet you in the middle. You basically met a match made in heaven with him years ago.

What went wrong?

“I can’t believe you still have that shirt,” Younghyun points out. He pulls his knees up to his chest, hugging them tight. He’s trying to look so small, innocent.

It’s funny, you think, and recall the nights he convinces you to be the big spoon for once. His sturdy frame was difficult for your arms to gather in one warm embrace, but whenever you tried he never complained. And it was nice.

You try to regain focus, and look down at the shirt you’re wearing. The print has faded so much that anyone who didn’t know its history wouldn’t have guessed what words were imprinted on it originally. But you do, and for a moment you thought you had forgotten— or at least, actively erased from your mind.

But this shirt has always made you feel like you have a sense of connection to this world, to a person you once held in your arms.

“I can’t believe we had Dowoon design that logo before. Nobody really told us how it really looked,” Younghyun chuckles in the night air, temperature going up a few degrees.

It wasn’t hot, you weren’t bothered, it was just… right.

And suddenly, you remember what he’s talking about. Because you were there, and you were this close to dropping the truth onto them that yes, it’s hideous, no one will buy your merch, but the grin on their faces and the spark of excitement in the room was too huge to disrupt. You then convinced yourself that yes, their fans won’t mind, they love you for your music. They love you for you.

You were supposed to love Younghyun for who he is.

“I liked it— eventually,” you admit and Younghyun raises an eyebrow. Defending yourself before he gets a say, you add, “It’s a sort of charm you and the others had. Up and coming in the scene, innocent boys singing their hearts out because you have nothing better to do.”

“Hey now, I was in college with you. I had midterms literally the day after our first official gig,” Younghyun corrects you lightly, and you do remember that. You’re starting to remember it all, like a kaleidoscope of days, weeks, and years through Younghyun’s starry eyes.

You don’t realize the barrier has begun to shatter until you feel the heat of his hands hovering over yours.

“What is it? Tell me, please. Tell me what’s on your mind,” you hear him say repeatedly. He has even moved so much closer to you, his hands grasping yours the way you held the bottle of whisky for nights on end.

He holds you like he cares, like he doesn’t want for you to disappear. For a second time.

“I let you go. I let you go, and now I’m left with nothing but haunted memories of you. Of us,” you sob into him, the sturdiness of his body keeping you from shaking terribly.

Younghyun wraps his arms around you, the way he would when you fell asleep waiting for him late at night on the weekends. Younghyun cradles your fragile figure within his tight embrace, the same way he’d tuck you in bed when fatigue overcomes your system. Even when he’s tired himself, even when he’s on a tightrope of his own priorities— he made you his first.

But you didn’t want that, you knew that wasn’t good for him, his career. The peak of his fame alongside friends he’s known as family for so long would be right around the time you decided to move to a different city and pursue your own passion.

There was no way it’d work. You’d be too far away from their studio, his and his bandmates’ apartment, the company building, everything. Everything Younghyun built from the ground up with his talent, his opportunistic mind, his own purpose in life.

The visits happened less often, the calls coming in at hours you couldn’t accommodate for anymore. People flock to him, and it’s the sort of crowd you flinch at, disassociate yourself with, it’s not who you want to be.

But it was Younghyun’s, and you loved him so much to take that away from him.

And yet, in the place you’ve buried yourself deep; hours away from where you once lived with Younghyun, months after the dreaded decision you falsely stood your ground for. He’s here, with you.

Does he still love you now?

“Don’t think too much right now, okay? You worry your pretty face with all your troubled thoughts like that,” Younghyun reassures you softly. If you had the strength to react to his superfluous words, you’d do so just like before. But exhaustion overcomes you— from the drinking, the sobbing, and the weight of your guilt draping over Younghyun’s shoulders as he embraces you even further.

You don’t deserve such warmth, such tender love, you hurt him. He can’t love you after that.

“I’m sorry—”

“No,” Younghyun shakes his head, ruffling your hair next to his face. He lets you go for half a second, and before you know it his hands are secured around your waist again. You don’t protest, but your eyes seem mesmerized by the way his demand you to see him.

“I’m sorry,” he shares your words, “for not coming sooner.”

The next sunrise doesn’t sting you in the eyes this time. This time, you fall asleep without nightmares accompanying you in bed. And this time, you wake up to what seems like a beloved past of yours. But it’s not, it’s the next day, and Younghyun stayed.

You let him.

#young k scenarios #young k x reader #young k imagines #day6 scenarios #day6 imagines #by:jiae

39 notes · View notes

marvinswriting · 4 years ago

Text

stupid social experiment

Disclaimer: there is no logic and this would not happen in real life but its a shrink fic and those are never quite logical are they..... anyway be ready for frustrating levels of inaccuracy, I'm sorry Tw: it's a long fic, a lot happens, there's a bunch. D slur, shots, falling, fainting, extreme fear, the usual

minimal to no mean girls knowledge needed for this fic

This was bound to be stupid as fuck.

Northshore doesn't get picked for anything good.

So this "social experiment" was going to be boring.

Calling it now.

We don't even know what it's about. Parents know. They signed a bunch of forms.

We don't know who is running it, what they're trying to study, any of it.

If it's just a Here's What You Do episode I'm dropping out of high school.

"Janis!" An arm wraps around my shoulder and I turn to see Damian.

"Hey," I show him the slip of paper I was handed. "I've been randomly selected for the experiment. Why are they calling it an experiment? What is it?! What are they going to do to me?" I flop against Damian dramatically and he laughs.

"Jan, your mom signed off on whatever it's about. I'm sure you're fine."

"Well, I hope so. Because they want me in the library right now."

Damian tsks. "I'll either see you at lunch or the next period if it takes too long."

I nod. "Right."

Damian squeezes my shoulder before breaking away, heading to the lunchroom. "Love you!"

"Love you too." I mumble, making way to the library.

There's a teacher outside, keeping watch, and all windows to the libraries are covered.

A pit forms in my stomach.

Whats this experiment about that requires so much secrecy.

"Hello, Janis." The teacher nods. She's a short English teacher I had last year.

Hated her, she never let Damian and I sit together.

"The library is closed today, I'm sorry."

"I'm here for the-" My voice falters as I lift the paper. "Thing."

She nods, opening the door.

The library is filled with students and people I've never seen before. There's a cloth creating a barrier from the entrance to the library and the back, with students and workers walking in and out.

"Hey, love!" There is a lady at the main desk who I've never seen before. Definitely not a librarian. "Can I get you checked in?"

"Yeah, Uh- what's this all about?"

"Surprise." The lady says with a wink. "Name?"

"Janis, Sarkisian. S-A-R-K-I-S-I-A-N."

"Alrighty, Janis. Height and grade?"

Height and grade?!

Why hight?

"I- uh, senior. And 5'10?"

"Lovely. You can go right back and sit in one of those chairs while you wait."

I frown but walk over to the clump of chairs anyway.

Aaron Samuels sat in one of the chairs to the far right. He gave me a slight nod before looking away.

Whatever.

Better than how most people treated space dyke.

The curtain behind me pulled back revealing Regina Geroge walking through.

I instantly looked to the ground, avoiding all eye contact.

Revenge party was last year. Yeah, we both apologized, but that didn't make us friends.

Nowhere near, actually.

"Coco, Sarkisian, and Samuels?" A professional doctor person pulled back the curtain, calling names off a clipboard. A couple of us got up, walking back.

My heart was pounding out of anxiety and curiosity.

I hated being on camera. Were they gonna interview me?

"Please sit down for your shots?"

"Our what?" Aaron asked.

"You mean a photo, right?" Somebody called from behind me.

"No, like the quick pinch with a needle. You may each take a seat."

I froze.

No.

Nope.

Nu-uh.

"I don't do- needles." I say, stepping backward.

The doctor sighed. "A fear of needles is normal, I'll make it quick."

Why do we need shots for a social experiment?

"You can find somebody else." I say, shaking my head. "I'm not kidding. I kicked a nurse once."

The doctor just chuckled, guiding me to a chair. "Relax, deep breaths, it won't be too bad."

I wanted to scream and cry, thrash around because what the fuck has my mom signed me up for- but I can't do that in the fucking high school library.

Instead, I let the "doctor" clean my arm, scrunching my eyes tight and cringing.

I flinch when I feel a pinch in my arm, followed by a quick tap with a bandaid.

"All done. See? Not so bad."

Debatable.

"What was that?" I ask, getting up.

The doctor smiled. "All part of the social experiment."

Don't I have the right to fucking know what's just been injected into me?

Did I just get a heroin addiction?

Shane Madej’s fears seem a lot more relevant now.

The doctor hands me a lollipop. "Only for the best patients."

I frown, but take it anyway.

One weird social experiment.

"A shot?"

"A shot."

Janis had just joined Damian and I at the lunch table, telling us about the social experiment.

"They gave me a butterscotch lollipop. I don't even like butterscotch!" Janis whined. "Want it, Cady?"

I shake my head. "I'm good."

"Damian?"

The boy takes the lollipop without hesitation. "But you hate shots."

"I do. I'm surprised I didn't puke."

"No kicking the nurse?"

"No."

"This is good!" Damian grinned. "A big step."

"There's gotta be a law about injecting people with random needles and not telling them." I say.

Janis just shook her head. "You would think so."

"Regina!" Gretchen ran up to me. "Any updates about that shot you got?"

I shrug. "No Gretch. And it's been a week. I doubt anything is going to happen."

I've been going into the library every day to get my vitals rechecked.

No changes.

Some social experiment.

Gretchen nodded. "Well then if you're up for it, maybe we could throw a party this weekend?"

I shrugged. "Let's ask Karen about it at lunch."

Gretchen nodded, typing away in her phone. "Let's go to the cafeteria."

I nod, turning on my heels and stepping away from the locker.

My limbs feel funny, like tv static all over.

Not painful and nowhere near enough to be concerning, but- odd.

"Aaron, you need to pay attention." I scold.

"Cady, my head hurts. Can we take a small break." Aaron shakes his head. "I don't know what's up with me." It's Aaron and I's lunch period and while Aaron is great, I would much rather spend it with Janis and Damian right now.

I sigh. "Sure. Let me know when you feel better."

Aaron nods, taking a sip of his water. I look back down to my notes trying to prepare what to do next.

I can hear Aaron place his water bottle back down, letting out a pitiful moan.

"Aaron, if you really feel sick maybe it's best you go ho-" I look up but Aaron isn't there anymore. "Aaron?"

Damian and I walked through the halls idly. It was almost the end of our lunch period and we didn't really have anywhere to be.

"Dame, my head is pounding." I groan.

Everything felt off. It started small- a minor headache that formed last period, but now everything hurt. I felt nauseous, my head may explode, my limbs felt heavy, and my vision was swarming.

Damian took no pity in me. "This is what three all-nighters in a row does to you Jan. I love you and I wish I could help, you should have gone to bed last night when I told you too."

"Something tells me this isn't lack of sleep." I mumble, looking down. My vision had fully become a swarm of grey haze.

"You got sick because of a shity immune system because of lack of sleep."

He doesn't believe me.

I mean, he shouldn't.

He's right, I have a history of bad habits getting me sick.

But,

"Damian that's not-" I take a shuddering breath and stop walking. My entire body feels numb and broken. "That's not it."

Was this death?

It ached to the point of sharp pain.

"C'mon Jan." I could faintly hear Damian keep walking over a harsh ringing in my ears.

"I- ah-"

My knees were buckling, everything burned. Why does it burn?

I could vaguely feel my knees hit the cold tile before I felt nothing.

Not that it lasted long.

Or maybe it did.

I fucking passed out.

My vision was blurry as I peered down at the tile. The ring in my ear was fading but my body still had an overall ache. I didn't want to move. I didn't want to lift my head.

I just wanted to lay back down.

But-

The bell was gonna ring and seeing space dyke just lying on her stomach probably was just gonna get me teased.

I sit up, ignoring the way my stomach twists and look up-

-what the fuck?

What the fuck what the fuck what the fresh ever-loving godsend of a fuck?

Even through the blurry haze covering my vision, I could tell something was wrong.

The lockers in front of me were big.

Not big, fucking huge.

The other set of lockers I had pushed myself against were the same. The tiles underneath me weren't an exception.

The entire hallway was hu-

No.

I've seen the movies.

I know where this goes.

I'm just really small.

Somehow- that realization didn't sit much better with me.

My stomach twists again as I look down.

Maybe I was still passed out?

Was this a weird hallucination?

Something deep down told me that wasn't the case.

"Janis?"

I freeze.

My breath feels caught in my throat.

I know that voice.

It's loud and echoes through the halls, but I know that voice.

I don't raise my head, I don't think I can physically bring myself to move, to react, to respond.

I'm frozen. Maybe it's fear, maybe its denial that this is actually happening.

From my peripheral vision, I can see sneakers a couple feet away.

Giant fucking sneakers.

Too close.

Too big.

I know who owns a pair like that.

I force myself to look up slowly, ignoring the dull thump in my head.

Damian stood a little further down the hall at his full height.

How I should be right now.

He looked down at me with wide eyes, probably having the same moment I'm having.

Everything is so big.

Except for me.

Oh god.

My throat is dry and if feels like air isn't properly getting to my lungs as it should.

Damian, my best friend, who was tall normally, now quite literally towered over me.

Neither of us said anything.

Neither of us moved.

My brain was still trying to process the situation.

This had to be a weird fucking dream.

Right?

Damian was right, I need more sleep, so my body forced shut down and now I've got a nightmare.

Right?

My mind thinks back to the shot I got Monday. Five days later and nothing changed- until now.

Was this-

Was this part of the experiment?

"Hey, Jan?" Damian's voice is soft, but that doesn't make it quiet.

To me, at least.

"Are you okay?"

I don't respond. I can't bring myself to. I'm frozen.

I'm tiny.

I've been shrunken and now I'm in the middle of a giant ass high school hallway, unmoving.

What the fuck?

What the fuck.

"The bell is gonna ring. You can't just sit there." Damian talks again.

I give a small nod, not really paying attention.

How could I?

I was four inches tall- at most.

The world that was normally just scary was now big and scary.

I look back down to the floor underneath me. I can't look up, I don't want to look up.

This was just a weird fucking dream.

It had to be.

"Jan-" Damian's voice is full of worry.

My total silence probably isn't helping.

There's movement out of the corner of my eye as Damian steps forward.

"No!"

My head snaps up as I push myself back.

Damian freezes, visibly surprised by the sudden outbursts.

"Please. Just- not yet. I-" I look at my hand that pressed onto the ground. It's so small compared to the pattern in the tile.

I'm so small.

I bite my lip, trying not to cry. It'd be stupid to cry. Crying won't fucking fix this.

"I'm sorry." I whisper. I know Damian can't hear it. I don't look back at him.

I don't want to see the hurt and worry on his face.

Stupid fucking social experiment.

Damian knelt down but it didn't help.

Everything was so big.

What the fuck.

"Jan?" His voice was softer this time. "You okay?"

I gazed up at him, he looked as scared as I felt. But- so tall.

"I'm-" My voice trails off. What do you say in this circumstance?

The hell if I were to know. Damian frowns.

"The bell is gonna ring, Janis. We gotta get you somewhere."

I push myself further against the wall.

I knew what he was implying.

I'd have to move.

He'd have to pick me up.

This was Damian. He wouldn't hurt me.

But I'm so small.

What if something happened?

What if I fell?

"Janis," I can hear the stress in Damian's voice. "I'm not gonna touch you unless you say okay. But- we're running out of time here."

I rub my hands up and down my fishnets nervously. "O-okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah." I push myself off the locker, taking a deep breath.

It's just Damian, it's just Damian, it's just Damian.

Damian leans forward slowly, like he was scared to set me off again.

Everything about seeing a giant hand reach for me set off so many alarm bells in my head but I tried not to let it show.

It's just Damian, it's just Damian, it's just Damian.

I force myself to look away as his hand gently scoops me up from behind.

Woah.

That's-

-different.

Damian sits back on his heels, bringing his other hand to cup underneath me. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I- thanks."

I've held Damian's hand before, quite often actually. But I've never been held in Damian's hand before.

It was weird.

Like, when he moved, my body felt a little delayed. I was hyper-aware of the slightest shifts.

"I'm gonna get up now." Damian warns me.

He shifts me gently into one hand and holds it closer to his chest as he sits up.

I grab onto his fingers at the sudden change in altitude. It was only a couple feet but it left me a little nauseated.

Damian freezes. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good. Sorry just-"

"Don't apologize." Damian says softly.

I know he's scared, maybe even as terrified as me. But I'm not sure how to comfort him.

I fit in his hand.

I can hardly do much.

"I'm gonna find an empty classroom, okay?"

"Alright." I don't let go of his finger as he begins walking, pulling me closer.

"Regina, please calm down"

"Calm down?! Gretchen did you just tell me to calm down?! I am the size of a Crayola Crayon and your gonna tell me to calm the fuck down?!"

Gretchen blinked at me, her mouth agape.

I groaned, placing my head in my hands. One minute I'm sitting at my lunch table complaining of a headache, the next I'm passed out on the lunch table.

"You're kinda cute at this size. Like a doll." Karen smiled.

"Well, I'm not supposed to be a doll, Karen!"

I didn't seem to be the only person in the cafeteria having this issue. The entire room was just general panic all around.

"Regina, I know your upset but please don't stand so close to the edge of the table-"

I look back to Gretchen just in time to see a hand reach for me.

"Stop!" I hold my hands out defensively, taking like seven steps backward.

Gretchen's hand falls back into her lap and she stares at me wide-eyed. "Regina I'm sorry, I just-"

"I don't need your help." I say through gritted teeth.

I feel pathetic for getting freaked over a hand. Gretchen's hand no less.

There were tears in my eyes and my heart was pounding.

This is embarrassing.

"Are you crying?"

"No, Karen. I'm not."

"Gretchen, I think she's crying."

I can't help but laugh at the blonde in front of me. It's a short, bitter laugh, but it's a laugh.

Karen seems to take this as a win as she hums contently, turning back to her phone.

Gretchen is staring at the hand in her lap and I feel a wave of guilt wash over me.

It's not her fault I freaked out.

I look down at my body.

Tiny.

There's no way I'm traveling around on my own.

I'm gonna need Gretchen and Karen.

I can't keep yelling at them.

I wipe the tears away from my eyes, stepping forward.

"Hey, Gretch?"

"Yeah?" She doesn't look away from her hand.

"I'm sorry for uh- lashing out. It wasn't your fault."

Gretchen looks up at me like she's never heard an apology before. Probably not from me at least.

Maybe it's selfish to only apologize when it benefits me. It probably is. But-

I've got bigger worries than my moral compass right now.

There's a crackling of the intercom, a lot louder than I ever remember it being.

"The whole school to the gymnasium, asap."

"Do you think that has to do with whatever just- happened?" Gretchen motions vaguely to my small form.

"The hell if I know. Just pick me up and let's go."

Gretchen hesitates. "Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you or anything I-"

"Gretchen. I can't walk there myself."

"Right."

I pushed carefully through the crowds of students in the hall, extremely mindful of Aaron in my hands.

It seems we weren't the only ones with this issue as I passed all my classmates, a couple of them also holding tiny peers.

There's a group of football jocks all traveling in a pack. "Glen Coco coming through." They yelled.

I caught a glimpse into the center of their group and sure enough, Glen Coco sat in one of his bigger friend's hands.

"Cady!"

I turn around to see Damian coming over. "Thank god you're okay."

I nod. "Yeah, where's Janis?"

"Hey."

I blink in disbelief at the small girl cupped in Damian's hands. She looked like she was gripping onto his pointer finger like her life depended on it.

How many students were affected?!

I frown. "I'm so sorry, Janis."

"Yeah, me too." She sighs. "Is that Aaron?!"

"Yeah." He calls from my hands. I lift him up more with a smile.

"Studying gone wrong."

Damian just shakes his head. "We were in the hallways."

We continue walking into the gymnasium. The bleachers are already pulled out and there is a man in a white coat standing at a podium. I can feel Aaron tense up in my hands as Damian and I take seats near the relative front.

"You recognize him?" I ask.

Aaron says something, but I can't hear him over the crowd around us.

"Hold on, Aaron." I shift my hands, bringing him up to my shoulder. "I can bearly hear you."

"Oh," He climbs on, gripping the shirt underneath him. I'm careful to remain deathly still as he sits.

That was one of the doctors who were giving shots."

I nod. "So this whole thing is related to the shrinking."

I look over to Janis, who Damian held protectively close to him. The poor girl seemed terrified and to be honest, I would be too.

The gymnasium was crowded and unnerving at my size. I can't imagine how she and Aaron feel.

I wish I could help more but everyone seemed equally at a loss of the situation.

"Janis?"

She was staring out at nothing, totally out of it.

"Hey, Jan, Cady's talking to you." Damian nudged her gently.

She blinked, shaking her head before turning to me. "You okay?" I ask.

"It's really loud," Janis says. I can tell shes yelling just to get her voice to travel so I nod instead of keeping the conversation going.

The man-who-shot-my-friends-doctor-person stepped up to the podium, raising his hands to call for silence.

When the school had settled down, he began. I didn't pay much attention. He basically gave us his name and a vague description of his job. "Studying how society reacts to changes and new environments". He said he was excited to work with us, he had never taken his studies to a highschool.

Basically, shrinking half the school was a change. A big one if you asked me. And they wanted to see how a much of immature teenagers react.

Don't scientists have better things to be doing?

Like curing cancer?

I felt hyper-aware of Aaron balancing carefully on my shoulder as the scientist talked.

"It is odd that the results took a week to show."

Aaron scoffed. He was so close to my ear that I could hear him clearly.

"With that being said, it will be a couple of days before we've got a reverse and there's no saying how long it will be for it to kick in."

"How long are you thinking?" A student from beside me said.

"A week. At least."

"A least?!" I behind me to see a small Regina rushed to the edge of Gretchen's hand, ignoring the yell Gretchen gave, curling her fingers up. "I'm gonna be like this for a fucking week?"

I looked at Damian next to me. Janis sunk low into his hands, tears in her eyes. My heart broke slightly.

I wish I could pull her into a hug and help like she has done so many times for me.

The most scient continued. "You are all expected to continue attending class as usual. We will keep the selected student updated and-"

"Wait! How are they expected to get to class?"

"Yeah!"

"This sounds dangerous."

I nodded along to the last one. It did.

The scientist sighed. "That is for you to figure out. Now-"

"This is stupid. So fucking stupid." I frown.

Damian looked down at me. "Yeah."

He was walking to his car with Cady (and Aaron and me). Damian normally drove Cady and I home but now I really needed the help.

"I'm a high school student! I should be worrying about my next chemistry exam. Not the fact that I'm three and a half inches tall."

Aaron made a noise of agreement from where he clung to Cady's shoulder.

Bold moves, dude.

I'll stay here.

Damian shifted me into one hand as he opened his car door.

"How are we gonna do this?" He mumbled, sitting down.

We were all silent for a bit.

"I could hold both of them?" Cady offered as she shifted Aaron into her hands.

"Jan, you okay with that?" Damian asked.

I trusted Cady. I really did. In the short amount of time I got to know her, she was quick to become an important person in my life.

But I barely felt comfortable with Damian right now. And it's Damian.

Still, despite all my inner turmoil, I nodded. "Yeah."

Damian gives me a look and I know he can see right through my semi brave face. But he doesn't push.

"Alright." He leans over, carefully depositing me next to Aaron and starting the car. "Aaron, are you going with Cady?"

"Yeah."

To have somebody my (new) size sitting next to me felt oddly confronting.

Cady's hands weren't as warm as Damian's, but I knew that before.

It was weird, to sit in a hand I used to be able to hold.

When I closed my eyes and sat shoulder to shoulder with Aaron, I could almost feel like this was normal.

"So, should I cancel the party this weekend?" Gretchen asked.

Karen frowned. "Not the party!"

"No, Gretchen. I may be tiny but my house fucking isn't."

"Regina, that sounds dangerous."

I scoff. "And?"

"What if you get hurt? What if any tiny gets hurt?"

"What's your point, Gretchen? If you've already decided you're gonna cancel my party, then why bother asking me?"

I don't miss the way Gretchen flinches back.

Part of me felt bad. The other part felt smug. Like even at my size, I can still call shots. I'm still in charge.

"I was just looking out for you." Gretchen says sadly.

Well, the smug feeling didn't last long.

I take a deep breath. "Then let's just reschedule for next week. I should be back by then, right?"

Gretchen gives a soft smile. "Right."

My house wasn't big. Just me and my mom, sometimes Damian.

But holy fuck was it big right now.

Damian shut the front door behind him, bringing both hands underneath me.

"Ms. Sarkisian? Are you home?"

Obviously, Damian was with me. We were always together before and well- we had to be now.

At least for me.

"Is that Damian?" A familiar voice calls from the kitchen. "Janis isn't here hon, I'm sorry."

Damian laughs nervously, holding me closer to his chest. "Actually-"

My mom emerged from the kitchen with a smile. "I thought she was coming home with you-"

Her eyes fall to Damian's hands and I wave awkwardly.

"Oh."

I hate having everyone's eyes on me, I hate having everyone touching me and holding me, I just hate being small in general.

I was slowly getting used to Damian holding me, and Cady wasn't that bad-

but I wasn't ready for more.

So when my mom steps forward, I lean back into Damian's hand, hoping she'll get the hint.

She doesn't, but Damian does. He tips his hand up a bit so I fall with my back to his chest, his fingers curled over me.

When my mom catches on, she steps back again, giving us space. "It actually worked." Her voice is filled with humor and disbelief.

"Huh?" Of course, my mom knew what she was signing me up for. But- part of me had hoped she just missed the fine print or something.

"I didn't think it would work. Especially as it got closer to the end of the week."

"Mom- you knew?"

"Well, yeah."

I push myself further against Damian. "You would do this, to your own daughter."

"It's for science! You know, I wanted to be a scientist once when I was little."

"Then you become three inches tall for science!" I don't bother to hide the anger in my voice.

I feel-

I don't know how I feel.

I don't know what to feel.

Scared? Mad? Betrayed? Shocked?

I'm terrified. And it's my mom's fault.

My mom steps backward at my sudden outburst. "Janis-"

"No." I cut her off bitterly. "We can talk later. I just- I need time. To calm down."

She nods sadly.

The worst part of it all?

My own mother can't seem to grasp why this is wrong.

She turns on her heels, going back to whatever she was doing before.

"Damian?" I ask, sinking down.

"Yeah?"

"Your house?"

"Of course."

"Regina, are you feeling okay?" Gretchen asked.

I turn, looking up at her. It felt weird to have to look up all the time now. We were in the Smith household because I wasn't ready to go home yet. I didn't want to face the reality of all this.

The fact that my own parents signed off.

"Yeah, why?"

Gretchen shrugged. "You've been acting odd. Like- I know the shrinking and you've got a lot on your mind but-" Gretchen rambles trying to validate calling my actions 'odd'. "The point is- I was wondering if you were all good."

"What do you mean when you say odd?" I ask.

Gretchen's face flushed. "Not in a bad way or anything! Just- I don't wanna say nicer because that implies you were nice before but like- less snappy? Like not that that's a bad thing or-"

My jaw slacks a little, but I refuse to let my shock show.

Was I such a bitch that not yelling for half a day was noticeable?

I haven't yelled in literally six hours but that was enough for Gretchen to pick up on and check on me?

I silently begin to reevaluate my attitude towards my friends as Gretchen continues to ramble about how it wasn't a bad thing and she wasn't trying to offend me.

I spent most of my Friday with Aaron. But Saturday nights were for me, Damian, Janis, and whatever movie we felt fit the mood.

And no shrinking was gonna change that.

So here I say in the Hubbard basement. Damian sat to my right, holding Janis close to his chest as some mindless film played.

I was trying to pay attention to the movie. Like if I concentrated on the bad plot, I wouldn't be worrying about the small girl who literally fit into Damian's hands. The girl who was supposed to be taller than me. The bravest girl I knew, who looked so small and vulnerable that it physically hurt.

No wonder Damian was so worried about her.

I just wanted to help her- but there was nothing I could do. There was no way to help.

So I turn my attention to the movie instead.

"Cady," Damian whispered from next to me.

"Yeah?" I respond, not taking my eyes off the screen.

"Okay first off, lower your voice," Damian whispered his voice laced with rising panic. "Second, look."

I turn to see what's getting Damian so worked up.

Janis had pressed herself against Damian's chest, her eyes closed and her small form peaceful.

The tense shoulders and fearful eyes she had since the shrink was gone. She looked calm and relaxed, I couldn't help but smile.

"Shes's asleep." I said softly, now understanding why Damian wanted me so quiet.

"What do I do?!" Damian hissed.

I hold back a laugh. "What do you mean? You've fallen asleep on each other plenty of times before. You know what to do."

"But - she's so small." Damian whispered, pressing his hands closer around the girl.

"And?"

"What if she gets hurt or something?"

"Damian, we're just watching a movie." I point out. "She'll be okay."

"Right."

The weekend flew by pretty fast.

Karen and Gretchen stayed over the whole time and they were likely the only reason I haven't died yet.

The school day- now that's a different story.

It was only lunchtime on Monday and I was ready to give it all up and take a nap.

"Regina, you okay?" Gretchen asked.

"Yeah, just- tired."

I was trying to snap less but I also didn't have the energy in me to snap.

"You might be better if you ate something," Gretchen said.

"Like what?"

"A french fry." Karen said, showing her tray forward a bit.

"Janis. That is a full Dorito."

"Okay, and?"

"There are smaller, broken pieces in the bag."

"I'm aware."

I watch with a smile as my friends maneuver around this new normal. Specifically, lunch, during this new normal.

"Cady, tell Damian I can eat an entire Dorito if I want to eat an entire Dorito."

I lean back. "Don't drag me into this. You can try and eat an entire Dorito. Doesn't mean you'll be successful."

Janis scoffs. "Nobody has faith in me."

"It's a full Dorito, Janis." Aaron grins from next to her. "Even if you could eat it, do you think this period is enough time? It's gonna go stale before you can finish it."

"Dude, how long does it take you to eat a Dorito? I have forty-five minutes." Janis shoots back.

I watched with amusement as Janis held the chip, trying to examine the best way to go about her snack.

Damian just shook his head and went back to eating. "You're crazy Janis Sarkisian."

"And you're jealous you can't eat a giant Dorito, Damian Hubbard."

It was Tuesday.

The scientist had been keeping Northshore updated and we should be back to normal by Friday.

Friday was so far away.

I was just lucky Damian had so many classes with me.

It never got any less weird, sitting on his desk instead of next to his desk.

But- it could be worse.

I hadn't talked to my mom yet.

I know I'm gonna break down in tears when I do.

It can wait till Friday when I'm back to normal.

I mean-

-she didn't bother to reach out.

So I won't either.

Damian and I were in study hall in the very back of the library.

It had reopened once all the equipment was pulled out.

It will probably reclose for Friday.

But its only fucking Tuesday.

I look up at Damian, whos working on stuff for other classes- y'know, like most students do in study hall.

Damian had been so understanding of my initial freakout. And even now- when I still freak the fuck out.

Did it get annoying having to carry me everywhere?

I already thought I was pretty annoying.

Space Dyke, Northshore's lesbian with enough trama for four.

I bet being so dependent suddenly wouldn't help my case.

But what could I do?

I couldn't just walk away and give him a break.

I mean-

I could stay home.

But then I'd have to face mom.

Alone.

But Damian deserved the break.

I dunno.

I don't want him to hate me after this week.

There's movement in front of me as I look up to see Cady sit down.

"Hey, guys!" She smiles.

"Hi!" I grin, shoving all my worries down. A talk with Cady was the perfect way to get my mind off things. "Where's Aaron?" I ask when I notice he isn't on her shoulder.

"Aaron is with some soccer buddies. I love him- I really do, but I just needed a break."

Oh.

I look back to Damian, who just smiled before turning back to his work.

My heart sank.

I mean- he didn't verbally agree but- I'm right here, why would he?

If Cady feels that way- Damian probably does too.

I look down at my lap in a vain attempt to hide the tears that burned at the corner of my eyes.

I don't want to lose Damian because I'm too fucking small to do anything myself.

I move closer to the edge of the table as Cady starts unpacking her books.

I don't want to take up too much room just because I can't sit on a chair like a normal person.

Cady and Damian talk quietly to each other but I only half listen.

The library is pretty crowded for a study hall period and I'm 99% sure more of these kids weren't in study hall.

A lot of students were taking advantage of this week to skip saying their smaller friends needed their help.

And hey- I'm not gonna sit here and say that's not why Damian has skipped acting class to sit with me in art the past few days- because he has. Honestly, add it to the book about why he hates me.

Damian loves his acting class.

There's a group of freshmen messing around a table over. I'm on the side of the table opposite from them, but I still eye them worriedly. All I need is for the right book to go flying and I'm done for.

I can feel Damian looking at me before I even lookup.

"You okay, Jan?"

"Yeah. Just tired." I look at him and pray from this size he can't tell that my eyes are red.

Damian clearly doesn't buy it. He's silent for a bit as he studies me carefully before speaking. "I love you." He says with a smile.

My face flushes. To this day, the random reminders still catch me off guard. Damian always seems to know when I need to hear it.

"I love you too." I smile.

Cady awes softly and I feel my face heat up more.

"It's not aw."

"It really is." Cady grins.

Before I can make a comeback, one of the freshmen from the other table, stumbles backward into our desk. The platform I'm sitting on jolts and my hands shoot backwards to catch myself. Only-

There's no desk.

I gasp, as gravity drags me over the edge of the table.

The fall itself was a lot quicker then I expected. My brain hadn't even properly caught up to what had just happened until-

I land on my side, my face grazing against the rough carpeted library floor.

Pain shoots through my arm and my cheek feels hot.

I let out a staggered gasp, screwing my eyes shut.

Everything managed to be burning hot yet ice-cold at the same time. My entire side was enveloped in pain.

It hurt so bad.

My lungs wouldn't work.

I've had the wind knocked out of me before.

But this was so much worse.

I fell off a desk. A two and a half foot drop should not cause me this much pain.

But I'm small.

And fragile.

And probably annoying.

A hand gently scoops me up as I curl in on myself more.

I already have a pretty good idea of who it is but I don't want to open my eyes and deal with the reality of the situation.

I'm tiny.

I fell off a desk.

And now I'm in extreme pain.

So much for not worrying Damian, huh.

"Jan?"

I don't respond.

My face stings. Rug Burn but make it the entire side of your face.

I couldn't tell if it was bleeding or an open wound, but I could tell it was painful as fuck.

"Janis?" Damian tries again. I can hear the fear in his voice, the panic he's trying not to let show.

Because of me.

I roll onto my back and open my eyes.

Damian has his hands resting on the desk and both him and Cady were peering down at me worriedly.

I could tell they were trying to make sure I was okay while still giving me my space but-

it was too much.

"I fell." I say softly.

"Yeah. You did." Cady agrees sadly. "Are you okay?"

"It hurts." I break away from their gazes. The utter heartbreak and the way Damian clearly took it personally was too much.

"I'm so sorry, Jan."

"It's not your fault." I force myself into a sitting position, ignoring the way half my body aches or the way each breath I took felt shallow and empty.

"You fell," Damian said softly, a dejected look on his face. "You got hurt. I watched you just fall. Oh my god-" Damian's hand slips out from underneath me, as I landed gently on the center of the table. "I need to go grab water. I'll be back."

I watch silently as Damian gets up and walks away before I turn around to face Cady.

"Is he-"

"He'll be okay," She says softly, her eyes trailing Damian out of the room. "Are you okay?"

"Just shaken up, I guess," I say, my hand absentmindedly touching the side of my face.

"I think we all are." Cady frowns.

I look to the abandons work Damian was doing before this. "Why did Damian take it so personally?"

Cady signed. "This week with the 'social experiment' has been kinda hard on everyone. We're all a little stressed and- while Damian and I may not know what you're going through, we also have some new changes to adapt to. Like carrying around your best friend. That's a lot of pressure and trust, a literal life in your hands. He just wants to make sure you're okay. To see you fall and get hurt- well, that's just what he was trying to prevent. If it were Aaron that fell, I'd probably react the same. He'll be fine. Just give him time to get water and calm down."

I nod, looking at the table underneath me. Damian is upset, and it's my fault.

Add that to the many reasons he will hate me after this week.

This week is dragging by for me, and I wasn't one of the people shrunk. I can only imagine how Aaron or Janis feel right now. Every morning the student affected by the experiment had to go into the nurse's office for vital checks which meant Damian and I spent most of our time before the official start of the school day waiting outside the nurse's office.

A lot of students waited outside for their friends as well but Damian and I didn't interact with them.

Until today at least.

"Cady?"

I turn around to see Gretchen Weiners walking over.

"Hey!" I smile. "What's up?"

"My stress levels." Damian mumbles from behind me.

Gretchen grins. "I think everyone waiting in this hallway can relate. I assume Damian is here for Janis but what about you Cady? Do you both watch her or-"

"I'm waiting for Aaron actually."

Gretchen wiggles her eyebrows suggestively and I quickly raise my hands in defense.

"No- Aaron and I are just friends. Nothing more."

Gretchen deflates with a sigh. "Well, that's boring. Anybody else you're looking for? Maybe another tiny you hang out with a bunch?"

I feel my face flush as I wave my hand. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You, Cady Heron, are a terrible liar." Gretchen winks before turning away. "Bye you two!"

"She's right you know," Damian says once Gretchen is out of earshot. "You are a god awful liar."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore." I huff, pulling out my phone. "I'm here for Aaron. That's it."

The hallway was never a favorite of mine. I mean, when you're in eighth grade and can't walk two feet without homophobic slurs being thrown at you-

-you learn to hate it.

But this week has turned my hatred for the hallway into a fear of the hallway. The crowds and loud voices that were nothing more than an annoyance before post as an actual threat now. The whole falling incident in the library yesterday just solidified my fears.

I could get hurt so easily at this size.

In the beginning of the week, everyone was careful. The shrink still hadn't fully set in for most people, the fact that this was reality wasn't solidified in our heads.

But people were more reckless now. It was Wednesday, the reality of the situation had set in. The hallways were back to their normal loud and crowded state.

I pressed myself closer to Damian as he passed through a clump of students.

Unlike Aaron, who pretty quickly decided he preferred traveling by shoulder, I stayed in Damian's hands. Too many things could go wrong any other way. I stiffen every time I watch Aaron almost tip over when Cady isn't even walking.

No thanks.

All the locker slams and loud voices created a ringing in my ears and the big groups just made me cringe.

I hated crowds before.

And that's when I wasn't three and a half inches tall.

"You okay, Janis?" Damian asked bringing his hands up more.

"Yeah, it's just- it's overwhelming."

Damian nods. He doesn't understand but- he's trying.

I appreciate it. A lot. He's been so patient during my freakouts. He's so understanding when I hesitate to do the little things, like get picked up. He really is trying.

A locker slams a couple feet away and I instinctively flinch. All the noise is making my head hurt and I just want to go home.

Not home with Damian to the Hubbard's.

My home.

At my full height.

Where I can do things for myself.

Where I'm not in constant danger and a stressor to everyone who cares.

My eyes burn and I look down, rubbing my eyes in hope to stop the tears before they can even fall.

I'm not going to start crying in the middle of the school hallway.

"Janis?"

Of course, Damian caught on to my mood. Why wouldn't he? Why would I just give him a break where he won't constantly worrying about me?

"I'm really fine. I swear. It's tits, dude. Just overwhelmed."

Damian shoots a quick glance at me before looking up again- he is still walking through the halls after all. "I'm-" Damian hesitates. "I'm gonna try something, okay? Just tell me if it's any better or totally worse."

"Huh?"

Damian doesn't explain as he suddenly lifts his hand. I instantly stiffen as I'm hit with slight vertigo, things like this never get any less weird.

What is he doing?! He's moving in the halls why is he- What if I fall or get hurt or-

My inner turmoil is broken as Damian tips his hand and I fall backwards-

-into a pocket?

I'm disoriented as I quickly pull myself up in confusion.

I was in the chest pocket of Damian's denim jacket. He looks down at me.

"You okay?"

I pause, looking around. "Yeah. I'm good."

It was, new. As were a lot of things this week.

But new didn't mean bad. I don't know what I expected the inside of a pocket to be like, but, it was pretty roomy. And if I ducked fully in, the loud bangs of the hallway were muffled.

I sunk down as Damian continued walking, satisfied that I was okay. Light streamed through the lip of the pocket, which shifted as Damian walked. Light also filtered gently through the denim fabric, so it wasn't very dark or unsettling. It was the opposite actually. I couldn't see everything going on around me, but it wasn't bad. I wasn't scared not to be aware of my surroundings. The overall presence of Damian was a welcoming comfort amongst the muted sounds of outside.

And-

Holy shit.

I've fallen asleep laying with Damian before. I've had my head on his chest before, I know what his heartbeat sounds like.

But from here it's so loud and clear. It's directly next to me and I can almost feel it in my body.

I'm really small enough to fit in a fucking pocket, huh.

The sounds of the hallway outside fade and I pop my head up. We've reached our next class.

Damian sits at his desk and I allow myself to be scooped up carefully.

"Were the hallways better now?"

I grin. "Dude- you have a loud fucking heartbeat."

"Hey, Gretchen?" I roll the pencil in front of me back and forth, unable to look up and meet Gretchen's eyes.

"Yeah, Regina?"

I take a deep breath, looking up. "Was- am I a bad friend?"

Gretchen leans back in her chair, tilting her head. "What do you mean?"

I already want out of this conversation. Emotions are gross and I hate it here. But- Gretchen deserves this talk. She has done so much for me this week and she's always done so much for me. Even when I wasn't tiny, Gretchen was there if I ever needed her. No hesitation and at any hour. I took advantage of that for so long.

"This week, when I stopped yelling and being bossy and- basically when I stopped being a bitch, you noticed. That means in the past I had had to have been such an asshole that I go one day without snapping and it's such a difference that you pick up on it. So like-" I shrug, looking back at the pencil in front of me. "Sorry, I guess. For being a big bitch."

I never thought I'd be pouring my feelings to my friend in study hall when I'm under four inches tall and sitting on a desk.

But I also never thought I'd be under four inches tall in general.

"Regina," Gretchen pauses, at a loss. Clearly, she wasn't expecting an apology.

I don't know if that makes me feel any better about my past actions.

"This week helps me realize that I really took advantage of how much you care about me," I explain. "I don't know what I would do without you, Gretchen. Karen too. But- you were there the most this week. Even after all I've done is been a bitch. So, I'm sorry for being a bitch. And thank you for uh- caring."

Gretchen smiles. "Of course, Regina. You're my best friend. And you aren't always 'bitchy'," She does air quotes with a grin. "Thank you for apologizing though. It means a lot."

I smile sheepishly, turning my attention back to the pencil as I begin to roll it again. "Yeah well, an apology was overdue."

"Janis, why do I get the feeling this is a disaster waiting to happen?" Damian asks from where he sat behind me. The obvious amusement in his voice is not lost on me.

"Because, it probably is," I answer simply.

It was Thursday and to say I was falling behind in art was an understatement. I needed to do something if I wanted a piece to enter into the next art show. Besides, the art was already sketched onto the canvas I just had to start applying paint.

How bad could this be?

I had has Damian layout paints onto a pallet for me as I grabbed the lightest brushes I could find. It was a thin tip which wasn't bad since I was going to be using small brushes for the background anyway.

I've tried using a pencil at this size before. It's hard- but not impossible. It just feels like a full-body workout and the lines are sloppy. How hard could using a paintbrush be?

Very hard.

For starters, pencil tips are solid. I can rest the pencil on the surface I'm drawing on and use my body weight to move it.

I have to actually hold the paintbrush or else I'll damage the tip.

I hear Damian laugh behind me as I lean backwards a bit too far, trying to find balance with the weight of the paintbrush.

I land on my butt, the brush rolling off my lap and onto the table.

"Great." I groan, flopping backward.

I can't even hold it long enough to dip it into the paint.

"It was a beautiful attempt." Damian teases. "Maybe next time."

"Shut up." I sit up again, turning to him. "Not all of us can stand full height and pick up a paintbrush easily-" My voice trails off as I get an idea.

"No," Damian leans back in this chair. "I don't know what you're thinking but I'll tell you right now the answer is no. I know that look on your face."

"Please?" I whine. "Damian, I haven't even told you my idea yet."

He huffs. "What is your idea?"

I pick up the paintbrush, stumbly as I hold it out to Damian. "I tell you where the color goes, you do the painting."

Damian shakes his head. "Janis you know I can't paint."

"Just listen to what I say and it will be fine!"

Damian takes the paintbrush from me but lowers it back to the table. "No way. I'm not gonna ruin your work."

"Damian, you wouldn't be ruining it. Please? I know you can do it. C'mon, I need to start the painting before it's too late!" I walk back over to my canvas. "I'd literally point where it goes and we'd be fine. Please? I can't do it myself."

"You couldn't ask Cady or something? You're talking to the person with the least artistic talent in the world."

I roll my eyes. "You're being dramatic. C'mon, let's start with blue."

"It's your funeral." Damian sigh, picking up the paintbrush.

I grin, walking over to the canvas. "See that section? That whole area is that shade of the blue. And then we can mix the lighter shade for closer to the right."

"I agreed to put color on a canvas- I'm not mixing shades."

"Damian that's literally the easiest part."

"Are you lying or is it actually?"

"Well- for some people it can be."

"Janis."

"Relax! I believe in you. You're gonna do great."

"Regina, are you excited?" Karen asked.

"Yeah, I can't wait."

It was finally fucking Friday. By the end of today I'll be back to normal.

It felt weird.

Like, I was so ready to get back to normal, but this week helped me learn some things about myself and my friendships.

It definitely a week I don't think I'll ever forget.

"Let's go." Gretchen smiles, scooping me up.

"Yknow," I laughed nervously. "Maybe staying small isn't such a bad idea- I mean, no needles that way, right?"

"Janis." Damian shook his head.

Last week I had no warning before the shot. I didn't have time to panic. Yeah, I was scared, but I was mostly confused. Now, I was terrified.

They were giving the shots and then sending the tinies to the cafeteria to wait for it to sink in. Apparently this time it would only take about ten minutes.

"Damian, did you see what they did to Aaron? The syringes are huge."

"Yes, but the needles aren't. The needles are tiny, it's gonna feel just like a normal shot. The syringes are so big so the doctors can see what they're doing. It's okay."

"What if they miss? What if they inject whatever the fuck into a major vein?! Is that how shots normally work?! I don't even know Damian! I don't want to bleed out and die!"

"You aren't going to bleed out and die." Damian shifts me into one hand. We're next in l- well, I'm next in line.

"Are you sure there's like- no other alternative?"

Damian shook his head. "Nope, Jan. Sorry."

I hug my arms tighter around myself. Damian had taken my jacket from be five minutes ago. This isn't his first time making sure I get my shots. He knew what to do. And typically, he knew how to help.

But nothing was bringing me comfort at this point. I couldn't concentrate on anything other than the giant fucking syringes. Can you blame me? So what the needle is the width of an average needle for my hight? The syringe is still as tall as me. And that's scary as fuck.

Add that on top of the fact that needles, in general, are scary as fuck and I'm not having a good time.

I feel like I may puke as Damian steps forward.

It's my turn.

Oh fuck.

Hell no.

I'd rather stay tiny and die than get a fucking shot.

"Damian-"

"I know, Jan. It's gonna be okay."

It's a different nurse then who gave me the shot last week. "It's okay to be nervous!" She already seems nicer than the other nurse.

Not that it helps.

"I know it seems scary but it's just like a normal shot. Same ol' pinch."

I force a weak smile.

Can Damian feel how bad I'm shaking?

I truly don't think this is worth it.

I could simply pass away.

That's a good alternative.

The nurse turns around to a table where her tools are stationed. "Do you want to be set down somewhere or-"

"No," My voice is strained and it's painfully obvious I'm terrified. "I can do it with Damian."

The nurse nods, walking over.

Now,

I was terrified before.

But when I physically saw the needle?

Game over.

"W-wait-" I step backward ignoring the way Damain's other hand shoots up to make sure I don't fall.

The nurse pauses but doesn't lower the needle or step back.

"Jan, it's gonna be easier if you get it over with." Damian reminds me gently.

"No- I know I just-" I step back again. "I can't- I-" I was dangerously close to the edge of Damian's hand. There was no more room for me back up.

I couldn't take my eyes off the needle. The syringe has to be as tall as I was. It-

Fuck.

"Janis," Damian's voice is a familiar stern but soft. "You need to get the shot."

I can't bring myself to respond verbally as I shake my head.

I can't.

Nope.

No.

I-

There's movement out of the corner of my eye as fingers wrap around me, pinning my arms to my sides.

I gasp, snapped out of my thoughts.

"Damian-"

"Please, Jan, you need to get the shot."

"Put me down!"

It's a fist. That's what if fucking is.

It's not painful, Damian isn't being hard or anything. But I sure as hell can't move. My bicep is totally exposed and I can't move my arms or turn away or-

The nurse catches onto what Damian's doing and steps closer.

"Damian put me down! Please!"

He doesn't move as the nurse steps closer. A giant cloth is swiped against my arm, cleaning it and I freeze, turning away.

I can't get out of this.

I can't avoid it.

Just like last week, there's a pinching sensation on my arm and I stiffen.

There are tears at the corners of my eyes and I feel childish that it affecting me this much.

Why can't I be normal and just get a shot?

Damian's hand around me opens as the nurse steps away and I sit down in the center of his palm. "I'm sorry," He says holding me up to eye level. "But you know you needed that shot."

"No, I didn't." I cross my arms.

"Janis." Damian shakes his head with a laugh.

He walked away from the stations and over to the cafe. Inside was just a bunch of tinies placed on tables and honestly, it was a comedic sight.

"I wanna go over by Aaron," I say, pointing to one of the closer tables.

Damian nods, walking over.

I slip off his hand as we reach the table and wave. "Bye. Love you. And uh- thanks for helping me with the shot."

Damian laughs. "Of course, Jan. I'll see you soon, okay? I love you."

"So, how did Ms. I hate shots, Janis Sarkisian, deal with the needle?" Aaron asked.

I huff. "Don't wanna talk about it."

The hallway buzzed with nervous energy. I talked idly with Gretchen as we waited, but the undercurrent of excitement wasn't missed by anyone.

It was still technically school hours but all student who helped their smaller classmates this week was outside the cafeteria, waiting eagerly to see their friends at full height again.

I watched as Damian left the cafeteria and I waved him over.

"Janis, as always, was a nuisance at getting her shot."

"Hello to you too." I grin. "Really that bad?"

"It's always that bad. She kicked a nurse once! She's gotten better, I used to have to hold a thirteen-year-old Janis in my lap just for a flu shot, but I guess a syringe the size of you is pretty scary because all improvement went out the fucking window."

Gretchen nodded. "Middle school Regina and Janis had a lot in common. Most notable? Their fear of needles."

"Well, Aaron was fine." I grin.

"Wow, lucky you." Gretchen rolled her eyes. "But- that's over now and hopefully we won't ever have to deal with giant needles ever again."

"Don't jinx us." I laugh.

Damian grins. "Since its technically still the school day I gotta bolt and talk to a teacher really fast but I'm gonna do my best to get back before they're all out. Whenever that is."

"Alright," I wave him off. "Go hurry!"

My libs felt weird and my head hurt a bit but I could care less.

I was back.

Full height.

I high fived Aaron as we grinned.

This entire week was a giant nightmare.

Pun intended.

But it was over.

I'm back.

"Hell yeah!"

We follow the crowd of classmates, all normal height again, out into the hallway.

There were students everywhere hugging and cheering.

I looked around, unable to find Cady or Damian.

Aaron stepped past me, beelining to his soccer friends.

The dude spent equal time with Cady and his teammates so I'm sure I'll see him talking to Cady later.

There's a thump somewhere to my left and I turn to see all three plastics on the ground in a hug, Regina clearly having taken them down.

I grin but move on, continuing my own search for my friends.

I know Damian said he needed to talk with a teacher and he may not still be back but-

Cady should be here somewhere.

Despite being back to normal height I can't see over the mass of students.

I step away from the door and start making my way through the crowd in hopes of better luck finding either of my friends.

My eye catches a familiar reddish head of hair through the sea of students.

I grin, pushing through the crowd.

Cady has her back to me as I stand next to her. She's on the phone and doesn't notice.

"No Damian, I don't see either of them. Yes you should hurry, are you kidding me?! Okay, okay, you're right. Bye."

"So, who are we looking for?"

Cady whirls around to face me. "Janis?!"

"Mhm?"

Cady grins, pulling me into a tight hug, pressing her face into my shoulder.

"Nice to see you too, Cads." I laugh, wrapping my arms around her.

We pull apart and she grins up at me. "I forgot how tall you were."

"Yeah, me too."

As I suspected earlier, Aaron walks over and I step away, giving them space to talk.

I stand by the edge of the hallway, separating myself from the crowd.

I may not be small as fuck anymore but that doesn't make me hate big groups any less.

"Janis!"

I smile, turning to the sound of my name, already knowing who it is.

"You took your sweet time." I grin.

Damian doesn't respond he simply pulls me close, his arms wrapping around me.

For spending the whole week with Damian, I felt like I missed him. Or really just the hugs.

I missed the hugs.

I gladly return the hug, laughing as Damian just holds me tighter.

"I'm glad you're okay." He says softly.

There was so much emotion in that one sentence as Damian squeezes softly.

I pull back a little bringing my hands up to his cheeks. "Hey."

"Hi." He whispers. There are tears in his eyes, matching the ones probably in my own.

"Thank you so much for everything you did this week, man. I love you."

"I love you, too."

I smile softly as Damian presses a kiss to my forehead before pulling away.

"It feels weird standing here at this size." I confess, looking at the crowd of students in the halls.

"It's gonna take some getting used to after this week." Damian nods.

"Yeah." I agree, turning back to him. My eye catches his denim jacket. I step forward, hooking my pointer finger over the lip of his chest pocket. "Jesus Christ, that's a small fucking pocket."

"Yeah, Jan. It is."

"I was small!"

"Mhm."

"Give me your hand."

Damian complies, and I raise my hand next to his in comparison. I've always had small hands so I'm not surprised when his are bigger than mine. But still-

I fit in his hand.

"Woah."

Damian laughs. "Now do you see how I felt?"

"Yeah. That's tits."

"Mm, not the word I would use, but sure, Jan. It was tits."

"I wouldn't do it again tho."

"Thank god." Damian shakes his head. "Stupid social experiment."

"Stupid social experiment." I agree.

dw, janis lived her life at the hubbards and never saw her mother again. as she should. @realmisspolarbear @smallsoysauce @musicallygt @sourishlemons

#g/t mean girls #tiny janis #tiny regina #tiny aaron #giant damian #giant cady #giant gretchen #giant karen #shirnkkkkkkkkkkk #this literally took a week to write

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thesilencebeforeastorm · 7 years ago

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”Panic” Ignis x Reader

Authors Note: I decided to write something I’m pretty sure other people have dealt with. This fic is based on a true story that happened to me 3 years ago. Everything is true except for Ignis being involved of course and the relaxing bath scene that was improvised in the end. You’ll see when you get there.

Trigger Warnings!: Panic Attack. Angst and Fluff

Summary: Reader has a panic attack. Read at your own risk.

Word Count: 1,327

Tagging: I’m only tagging @xylianna since this is a sensitive topic and she’s okay with angst. I think this is a mix between angst and fluff in the end. It’s okay if you don’t wanna read it.

After a tiresome day, Ignis had went to bed a little earlier than usual. Working all day at the citadel running errands and attending meetings would have anyone drained. Being that it was too early for you to go to bed, you decided to stay in the living room and watch some TV until you felt sleepy. Sometime during the show you were watching, your legs fell asleep due to you sitting with your legs folded under your thighs. Feeling the rush of static electricity running up your legs, you decided to stretch them out so it would go away but after some time, it never did. Your arms suddenly began to feel that way too. The hell was going on with you? Something was really wrong. Usually after stretching, the weird feeling would go away. You really didn't want to wake up Ignis but you had to. You went to your bedroom where you saw the man asleep.

“Iggy", you said as you shook him. “Iggy".

Since he's a light sleeper, it didn't take long enough for him to wake up.

“Yes, (Y/n), is everything alright?”, he asked you.

“Uh.. no.. my arms and legs are asleep and they don't wake up…”. You couldn't hold it in anymore as you started to cry in a panic.

Instantly, Ignis put on his glasses and got up from the bed to turn the lights on. He placed his hands on your arms, his face full of concern.

“Y/n what's wrong?? Why are you crying?”, Ignis said as he didn't understand what was going on. You were just fine an hour ago.

Waves of anxiety began to take over your body. You began to shake uncontrollably and you couldn't control it. Sobbing and breathing heavy, you couldn't even barely speak. Ignis picked up instantly what was wrong.

“(Y/n), you need to relax. You are in a state of panic and it's not doing you any good,” Ignis said as he tried to get you to look at him to calm you down. You wanted to look at him but you just couldn't. Your mind felt blank.

As a coping mechanism which you always do whenever you got like this, you ran your hands though the side of your head and gripped your hair very tightly. It gave you a weird sense of security and it just helped you deal with it. This however wasn't working.

“I can't breathe, I'm gonna die!”, you began to scream out to Ignis.

Ignis being worried as ever was running out of options. He's seen people have panic attacks before but never this severe. He decided he needed to call an ambulance for you.

“(Y/n), do you need me to call the hospital for you?”, he asked.

Unable to speak, you nodded your head fast as your body still trembled with fear. You honestly didn't know what happened. You were literally fine watching TV and then out of nowhere, boom. Ignis had grabbed his cellphone and began calling for help when you noticed your arm turn red for and the biggest mistake of all was for you to notice that. It made things 10 times worst. You began to scream.

“Ignis, I'm going to die! I'm going to die! My arm is red!”.

Ignis nearly dropped his phone with how loud you screamed and began to grab your arm to see what was going on. He was honestly scared.. no.. petrified would be a better word. Trying to talk to EMS while hearing your screams was a challenge but eventually he was able to give the address of your home and tell them the situation. After he hung up, he spoke to you again.

“Your arm is red because your blood pressure is rising. You need to calm down", he sternly told you.

“I.. can't..”, you replied still sobbing.

Sighing, Ignis wrapped his arms around you, giving you a tight hug and rubbing you back, hoping that your panic attack would cease. He never knew you suffered from this. Them again, it's not exactly something you would tell people upfront.

It didn't take long before help arrived and you were taken to the hospital. By then, your screaming and sobbing had stopped and you were just lying in a hospital bed with a IV in your arm with fluid. Your skin was very very pale. Whenever you looked at Ignis, you looked blank as if you had no emotion. While Ignis waited with you for news, you took a quick nap to calm yourself down.

The doctor came in a while later and explained to Ignis that you had a panic attack. The numbness in your limbs was just one of the signs of an attack waiting to happen. He explained that panic attacks can just happen randomly without warning so it wasn't his or your fault. You then received the okay to go home and rest.

When you got home, you felt so drained and tired. The numb feeling in your limbs didn't entirely go away yet and your face felt so puffy. Instead of going to bed, you asked Ignis if he could help you with a bath and who was he to disagree.

He prepared a nice warm bath for you and added some bath salts to help you relax your body. As he helped you undress, you couldn't help but feel so weak. Not physically but emotionally. You always wanted to look strong around his presence but you eventually reached your breaking point. You then sat in the tub, looking down at your legs.

“Iggy I'm sorry…”, you told him. Although this wasn't your fault, you felt like it was. He motioned you to look at him with his hand gently lifting your chin to look at him as he caressed your cheek.

“There's no need to apologize (Y/n). The doctor explained that these things happen. I just only wish you had explained to me sooner of your condition.”

You were going to speak but he didn't allow you to. He wanted you to relax and not worry any further. Using a bath sponge, he squeezed water onto your skin and gently began to rub your body with it. He was very careful with his movements, rubbing your arms and back and placing a kisses on your shoulder. He then began to pour water on your hair to wash away the hospital smell that lingered on your body. As the water trickled down your face from your hair, you felt so relaxed and was so pleased to have some as caring as Ignis by your side. No one has ever treated you with this much care before in your life and it honestly felt so good. He massaged his tender hands into your hair as he washed it thoroughly, and then began to massage your back. As good as this felt, all of this was making you incredibly sleepy and Ignis could tell. That was another thing good about him. He was always so observant. He helped you dry up and out of the tub as you changed into your pajamas. You looked at yourself in the mirror and although your face still had an empty expression, you knew you didn't look as bad as earlier.

Ignis then helped you into bed but left for a few minutes. Questioning why he left, you were about to go after him until he came back.

“Sorry love, I called out of work for a few days. You need my care and after tonight's episode, you will not be left alone. I also called your job and explained that you will not be in for a few days as well.”

Too tired to protest, you smiled as you and Ignis got into bed. You held onto him, needing his comfort more than anything.

“Thank You Iggy”, you told him and with that, you two called it a night.

#ignis #ignis scientia #ignis x reader #trigger warnings #angst #fluff #anxiety #panic attack #ffxv #ffxv fandom #ffxv one shot #ffxv fic

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shadowscrybe · 8 years ago

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Metamorphosis- Chapter 4

Requested: no

Summary: You’re Melissa’s “adopted” daughter after her best friend died and left you to her. Scott pretty much ignores you until one day he randomly starts hovering over you. Then this new kid Isaac comes along and Scott takes him in so quickly. You resent them both until…

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: YAY Chapter 4 is finally edited! I actually like this chapter. It’s mostly to invoke anxiety. I wanted y’all to be able to feel how stressful this is, so I guess this is also a warning? If you don’t like reading things that make you anxious you might want to avoid this chapter. Personally, it makes my heart race. I know I wrote it so I see it differently, but I hope you guys can see what I was trying to convey. Let me know what you guys think and if you liked the stress, or if it wasn’t stressful enough. Give me any suggestions you guys might have. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

My head is throbbing to a point where I can feel it in my left cheek. The back of my head feels heavier than the front. Before I open my eyes, I notice the cold kiss of metal against my arms and piercing through my jeans. My natural instinct is to pull away but I can't. My arms are restrained by tape halfway up my forearms, just out of reach. Panic floods my body. My fingers feel frozen, my bones like electrified steel rods. All of these observations happen within a second. There’s no light behind my eyelids, so where ever I am it's dark. I force my eyes open.

I’ve always been very observant to detail, but nothing about this room sticks in my mind. My hands try to rip at the tape with no success. No part of me is talking to the other. I’m watching myself wither and panic in a metal chair in the middle of a dark room. I need to stop and assess where I am.

Find an exit. I look to the wall across me. It's definitely not drywall, it's cement. There is a window close to the ceiling, small with foggy glass. I’m in a basement. I crane my neck to see a set of steps to my back right. When I turn my head back, the barefoot woman’s face is in front of mine. I jump involuntarily.

“She’s awake.” She smiles.

I break eye contact with her when I see the twins from school come and stand on either side of her. Wait, Ethan and Aiden? No. That can’t be them.

“Is this a joke?” I hear myself say looking between them.

She clamps her hand over my thigh and squeezes hard enough I’m sure she’ll break it.

“Kali!” Ethan pulls her grip off me.

I hear her growl at him. “You’ll remember to never do that again.” She slashes at his face and a line of blood cuts across his cheek. Only seconds later it disappears. I have to blink a few times to make sure I see right. Her nails are sharp and protruding from her hand where they weren’t seconds before.

They drugged me. They had to have. Because when she snaps back to me her eyes are bright red. Maybe she’s the one on drugs. What does a crazy drug addict want with me? And why are the twins here? I don’t feel drugged. Not that I’ve ever been drugged and kidnapped before, but I don’t feel like I’ve been drugged. It’s the adrenaline. I’m seeing things.

She rakes her nails up my leg and places her palm over my throat. I lean away as far as I can. She takes her time, enjoying the movements, in wrapping her fingers around my neck. Her thumb is just under my chin directing where I look.

“Relax. I'm not going to kill you... Just maim a little bit.” My heart is shaking in my chest. She can feel this and presses her claws into my skin. Not enough to break through, but enough to make me wince.

“That’s enough, Kali.” A calm voice says at the top of the steps. There’s a staccato clicking as he descends. The twins step back and Kali removes her hand and stands up straight. She sighs and puts her tongue in the corner of her mouth.

He’s an average looking man with black sunglasses and a white cane. He takes apart his walking stick piece by piece and let's it fall back into shape a few times before he crouches to me.

“What’s your name?”

“Julia.” I say a second too slow.

“Your real name.” His voice sound pleasant but his face looks annoyed. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Y/N.”

“There we go.” He stands and pats the leg that isn’t numb in pain. “Don’t be afraid, Y/N, I won’t hurt you.”

“Too late.” I say snidely.

“Sweetie, if I was-”

“Kali is working on her manners.” He speaks over her threat.

My hands are gripping the armrests so hard my fingers are going to break. “I don’t have anything you want.” I try to level my voice.

“I just want to talk.” He says so sweetly I’d almost believe him if I weren’t strapped to a chair. “You are Scott McCall’s sister, correct?”

My first thought is to lie. Why does he want to know about Scott? How does he even know Scott? Or me?

“Answer me, Y/N.” The room’s air seems to get thick at his tone. Ethan swallows and looks at the floor.

“Why does that matter?” I inquire. Kali grabs the back of my hair and pulls my head back. Somehow she pulled on the exact spot where it hurts the most.

“You don’t matter enough to be difficult. Watch yourself.”

The right side blind man’s mouth twitches into a smirk. “Kali is a bit of a loose canon. I can’t promise anything on her behalf.”

“I’m adopted.” I groan out.

“He hasn’t come for you.” He observes.

Who, Scott? Why would he? How would he know where to look?

He must see the confusion on my face because he asks, “You don’t know, do you?”

“Know? No, I don’t know anything! What is going on?” The tears are forming at the brim of my eyes. I will not cry. I’m afraid and alone and I will not cry. I make the angriest face I can muster and force the stinging in my nose to stop.

“Oh, so brave. Is it worth dying over?” Kali teases and pulls harder.

“She doesn’t know anything.” He says as he let's his cane fall into place. He turns to the stairs and begins to tap the end of each step.

“But we haven’t-” Kali starts.

“You heard her. Let her go, Kali.” I hear him disappear at the top of the steps.

She scuffs and throws my head back. There’s a stinging below my right eye and I’m looking towards the left. Ethan takes a step towards us, but Aiden puts his arm out to stop him. She slapped me and now the vision in my right eye is blurry. “Give Scott my regards.” She spits and ascends from the damp basement.

After a few seconds of my head swirling I feel the pressure on my right arm release. Ethan and Aiden are on either side of my ripping the tape with their claws. I recoil automatically.

“Don’t touch me.” I hiss.

“We’re trying to help.” Aiden says hushed.

“That was helping? What is wrong with you? You’re crazy! I’m going to turn you in.”

“No one will believe you.” Ethan says despondent rather than threateningly.

They try to help me from the chair but I push off them. My left leg is relatively useless. I have to support all my weight on my right. I wouldn’t be able to run even if I tried.

“Y/N...” one of them says behind me.

“Stop!” I turn to them with tears falling from my eyes. “I could never have expected...we go to the same...” I inhale and turn to the stairs. I hop onto the first step which creaks. It didn’t when the blind man went up or down. The only sound in the basement is of me huffing and the creak of the stairs as I try to leave. When I get to the top, who will be there to greet me? Am I just walking into another death grip from Kali? How am I going to escape when I get up there? I have no plan and no strength to fight. Not that I could. These people...

I’m going to pass out I need to get out of here. When I reach the top I fly to the nearest door. I don’t see anyone on this floor, but I force myself to use my left leg to move. I fumble with the door handle which is locked. My hands shake as I fiddle with the knob. When I open the door I see the sky in a beautiful purple of dawn; the grass is glittered with fresh dew. The sky looks like nothing terrible just happened. I run into the empty street with no direction in mind other than: away.

I realize I’m by the library after I flee down a few blocks. I didn’t remember to look back at the building I was in to describe in the file I was never going to report. You can’t say, “Yeah Sheriff Stilinski, I was kidnapped by people with red eyes and razor sharp claws. No, no I’m sure I wasn’t drugged. No, Sheriff, please don’t lock me up in an insane asylum.” Ethan and Aiden were right. No one is going to believe me.

I’m maybe twelve minutes from my house, but I can’t physically stand anymore. I keel over and throw up. There are too many emotions flooding my system right now.

I limp until I get home. I think last night was Friday, so there isn’t school today. Hopefully I can slip in while Scott and Isaac are still asleep.

The sky is a warm orange by the time I get to our front steps. I check my face real fast in the silver knocker. It's red on my cheek but no bruises yet. I know my leg is patterned with purple and blue without even looking.

I open the door and walk in to Isaac and Scott pacing the living room.

“Where have you been?” Scott stomps toward me. Isaac rubs the back of his neck and let's out a huge breath he looks like he’s been holding all night.

I didn’t figure they’d be up so I have no lie planned.

“Don’t worry about it.” I flinch at his approach.

“What happened?” Isaac asks. He knows the subtle signs of fear. He knows what covering something up looks like.

“Nothing.” I enunciate the syllables. He’s staring at my cheeks. I try to turn my face away without being obvious.

“Well where were you all night? Because you never showed up to Lydia’s.” Isaac points out.

“Y/N,” Scott says. “We’ve been worried all night. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I was fine before you cared about me, I’ll be fine now.” I use all of my remaining strength to walk upstairs without limping.

“Scott, she was lying.” I hear Isaac’s muffled voice through my door.

“I know, but why?”

Isaac doesn’t answer.

You were right though, I think at them. It’s not safe here anymore.

I lay back on my bed without changing out of my sweat soaked clothes.

Why did the blind man want to talk to me? How is Scott involved? What does he know? What the hell is going on in this town.

#teen wolf fanfic #teen wolf #isaac lahey x reader #scott mccall x sister!reader #isaac lahey #Scott McCall

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lifebasedoffsin · 8 years ago

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My Horror Story

As a mother who lost a child, I notice that people still try to not talk about my son. They seem REALLY shy when I tell stories of him. I am remembering happy times with him. I now advocate for SIDS Awareness and help others in my son’s name. The stories I had with him aren’t horror stories now that he is gone. The real horror story was when it HAPPENED. Not many people who lose children ever want to revisit that day. I tell this story to help people realize life can change in a moment. SIDS can happen to you. NOTHING in life is guaranteed. On May 20, 2016, I woke up like every normal day for work. My husband was a stay at home dad and was sleeping soundly. He would spend week nights waking up the two times a night our son would get up and was always tired. He did it for me. He did it so I could go to work and make a living for my family. I remember waking up and smiling at him that morning. I got up, careful to be quiet like every morning so our son could sleep peacefully until he woke his dad up at around 10AM for his morning bottle. When I was about done getting ready, I noticed my beautiful son’s big eyes looking at me through the cracks in his crib. Smiling. I went and made a bottle and changed him. I smiled and laughed with him. I struggled to get his diaper on him because he always wanted to move and learn what was around him. I finally got him dressed and gave him his bottle. I stared down at him with such pride. Seeing his eyes meet mine and knowing I had this amazing person I made loving me always. I had a feeling to stay home. I wanted to spend the day with my child and laugh and feed him peas and watch him learn new things. I knew I had to get to work to make money for him though. I kissed him, told him I loved him, turned around to get to work, took one last look at him and blew him a kiss. That would be the last time I ever saw my child alive. I didn’t get my usual 10AM phone call from my husband like I always got when our son woke up. I called my husband around 11. He told me our son didn’t wake up yet and I assumed it had to do with me giving him a bottle earlier in the morning. An hour went by. An officer came to my job, which is not out of the ordinary since I work in towing. I greeted him happily. He asked my name. I confirmed my identity. His words still sit in my head “Your son had a medical emergency. I need you to come with me. Now.” I called my boss and let him know. I was asking questions with no answers. I was screaming in the cop car just hoping he was ok. I called my husband, he was screaming on the phone. Crying too hard for me to hear anything but “gone.” I hung up. I called my mom. I didn’t know what to say to her so I yelled for her to get there for my son. I said gone over and over and over. I got out and ran to the hospital reception desk. “Where is my son?! Is he ok?” No one answered. Everyone looked down while I screamed for my child. Nurses asked me to correct his name on his bracelet and I though that meant he was here and ok. I turned around and a huddle of nurses had their arms open, tears coming from their faces as the one in the center just said “i am so sorry...” I dropped. I screamed. I yelled. I was wheeled into a room. Every nurse hugged me. I was screaming for my husband. He finally got there and hugged me and told me he was gone. He couldn’t say anything else. We got asked to see our child. I walked into the room, curtains were drawn, the lights were so dim they were almost off. I moved the curtain and a nurse held a lifeless, small, body in a hospital gown. That body was my baby. That body that I created. That face I kissed hours earlier. I sat down and was given my baby. Given him the same way as I was when he was born. He was cold. His eyes were slightly open. Very blue but glassy. Lifeless. I held him and cried and kissed him and hoped I could wake up and have it all be a bad bad dream. My family started to come in one by one. Screaming. Crying. Looking away. I remember dropping to the floor and panicking so bad I almost got admitted for seizures. Going outside to talk to my family and I sat in the wheelchair thinking there was no way I could live. I watched traffic go by the hospital. I wheeled myself closer and closer to the trucks I was watching. I so badly wanted the pain to end. I wanted to see my son. I wanted to be where he was. I stopped myself only realizing that my parents would have to deal with my same pain. I couldn’t do it. I held my son until he got too heavy to hold. Until they told me it was time. My husbands cousin was a nurse and she took him from me. She cut a lock of his hair, he was baptized, and he was taken away. I had to leave without him. The next few hours were a blur. I don’t remember what I did. I don’t remember who I called or who I talked to or what I said. I wanted to die. I wanted to take any drug I could find to escape what I was dealing with. I wanted to cut my arms and bleed out. I wanted to sleep and never wake up. I went through those next few days also in a blur. I was on medicine so strong that I couldn’t let myself even feel anything but numbness. I wanted higher amounts of drugs so I could forget what was going on completely. I had to plan a funeral for a baby. MY baby. I had to decide on cremation jewelry. I had to watch my family look at the prices of a funeral we could barely afford. If it wasn’t for donations and such kind people, I dont know how we would have pulled it off. I remember the funeral. Knowing it was my last day seeing my son’s face. Last day holding his hands. Last day seeing what I created. It was a blur, just like most of those days. But when I had to say my last goodbye, I never wanted to leave. I wanted to be with him. For days and weeks after that, I couldn’t focus on life. I only focused on what drugs would fog me up enough to make me forget I was here without him. I thought about ways I could go and make it less painful for my family. I wanted to be selfish. I was able to snap out of that. I was able to go to work again. I was able to fake a smile and sometimes I was able to have good days and smile for real. I still had crippling panic attacks. I still blacked out. I still got angry. I still looked at his crib and dropped to the floor screaming. I am getting better. I am trying to love myself again and love life even more. I try to cherish every moment. I still have massive anxiety and cry randomly. But, I am alive. I am alive for my son. I am alive to get other people through similar situations. Alive to teach other mothers about the unexpected and silent killer that is SIDS. I will forever LIVE for my son.

#my story #personal #SIDS #awareness #infant loss #RIP

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roxxdafoxx · 5 years ago

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30 “red flags” part 2

16. When they gas light you.

“Any form of gas lighting no matter how small.

Also pre-blaming you for things they know will happen because of them. He’d tell me on vacation ‘that drink is too strong you’re just going to pass out later and we won’t be able to go out and do anything,’ but in reality it was him passing out from drinking at 9pm forcing us to stay in. Or saying ‘yeah I want to see the sunrise but you’re never going to get out of bed that early,’ yet I went and saw it and he slept until 2 hours later when I finally got him up.

When I realized it, I saw he was basically trying to make me give up on doing things so he could blame me for us not doing it, even though if I held up my end he wouldn’t hold up his. Between that and making me think my emotions were invalid when he’d upset me just made for a super manipulative relationship.”

—madguins

17. When they hide their finances from you.

“For me, the very first red flag was not communicating finances [we were married]. He would ‘give me’ a certain amount to spend, but never wanted me on his bank account. I had my own, but we had agreed on joining accounts—which is why I transferred my money to his since it had better interest rates/bank/etc. I had no access to my own money. It took him 6 months and a threaten of divorce to be put on the account. And then I saw it—he had lost ALL of our money by spending it on him damn self. I couldn’t do anything—I could even put food on the table or put gas in our cars.

The second red flag was when we adopted a puppy [this was after I began a finance boot camp with him]. The puppy would cry at night. Ex had a temper. I heard him storm into the living room, open the kennel, and shake the dog yelling ‘I will fucking SHOOT you if you don’t shut the FUCK up!’ I shot out of bed, grabbed the dog, told him he would do no such thing, and left to stay with a friend.

Another one was when we were play wrestling and he pinned me down so hard my arms started going numb. I told him to get off of me and then kneed him in the back. He punched my face. I was stunned and told him ‘didn’t your mother ever teach you not to hit a woman?’ “Nope, they’re fair game and you look like you can handle your own anyways.”

The immense guilt trip I received any time I did something for myself—driving over to a friend’s place for coffee, going on a weekend trip to the beach, going to my family’s…it was ridiculous.

There were other red flags as well, but these were the top three I could think of. It wasn’t until I told my Chain of Command some of these things that they sent me to victim advocacy. I had to be told that I was a victim of abuse. We, obviously, have since divorced and I am now happily re-married to someone who believes we are partners in life. Together, we balance each other out.”

—badgerfu

18. When they have an opinion about every single thing you do and every single person you talk to.

“The first red flag is the person having an opinion about every single thing you do and every single person you talk to, like they need to be hands on in all your dealings and activities like they are your parent or some shit. Normal people don’t want to coach your life, only fucked up people do.”

—shewshoe

19. When you tell someone else about what’s happening and they react with horror.

“When I told a coworker about things she reacted with horror. That’s the thing about abusive relationships, at least in my experience. They start off great and then slowly warp into something terrible and the abused person might not know.

I didn’t even notice what was happening to me until two years in. Looking back it blows my mind that I accepted the treatment but at the time it just seemed fine.

I was working at a coffee shop and while closing one day started chatting with a new co-worker—by this point I had been isolated from all my friends and I thought it was because I was a terrible person so was cautiously trying to make a new friend. We were drinking wine while we worked and started dishing about our men and her reaction to my ‘what happened on date night this past week’ story was horror.

It got me thinking and once I knew to look, all of the other red flags showed up.

This was also the same way I found out my parents were abusive. A friend in high school saw the bruises and cuts and when I told her I got in shit for losing a toy something she was like ‘ummmm…that is not a normal reaction to that.’”

—full-of-grace

20. When they keep casually dropping passive-aggressive comments during normal conversation.

“The casual passive-aggressive comments he would drop in normal conversation. Then the comments would become more direct, then mean, and finally just cruel. And once he saw that I would accept those, well, the floodgates of abuse just burst open.”

—scaredofmyownshadow

21. When they make you feel like shit about yourself.

“The need to question everything I did and every one I liked.

The constant need to make ME question them.

None of my pre-existing friends were ‘good to me’ in her eyes.

The need for my constant undivided attention every single waking hour.

Not being able to ‘trust me’ yet doing all of the things that made me ‘untrustworthy’ i.e., taking my phone to the toilet.

Making me feel SHIT about myself. Constantly. But also making me believe she was the only one who didn’t make me feel shit.”

—i_am_gud

22. When they always expect you to take their side, no matter how unreasonable they’re being.

“Like 3 weeks in, when he randomly started arguing with someone over some stupid shit, I sided with the other person who I thought was being reasonable. The PoS got furious at me, saying ‘I expect you to be on my side.’ Aghast and pissed, I walked away ignoring him. He suddenly started playing nice and sweet again. I should have never looked back at that point because he soon turned out to be a massively manipulative, immature, emotionally abusive piece of fucking scum. Ugh.”

—KissyKillerKitty

23. When they keep breaking up with you.

“I don’t know about the first, because it was all so gradual over the course of a few years. Things were fantastic in the beginning but the shifts caught me off guard. Also I was a young adult and have moved out of home for the first time. It was my first ‘real’ relationship and I was stupid and blind.

Some highlights:

• so clingy. Had to literally spend every minute together or else it would be a fight because ‘we are drifting apart’ (because I spent an afternoon reading a book) • telling me I wasn’t raised correctly, nit picking every little behavior, telling me that I was something he needed to ‘fix’ because I was so messed up. Using my anxiety and depression against me. • pressuring me to do drugs. • constant cheating accusations • not allowed to have friends. Could only be friends his friends. • picking fights with me over tiny things, escalating them to the point of making me cry and then ‘look how crazy you’re acting you bitch’ Fights would only end if I apologize and promise to do better. Even if I was not in the wrong. He just liked to exert that control. • he suddenly hated my family for no reason, me visiting them resulted in such huge fights and violence that I just avoided it. Despite the fact that my family lived five minutes away. • he was unemployed and a drug addict, but he’d get so angry with me for ‘choosing my job over him’ because I refused to skip work. • breaking up with me constantly, instantly retracting as soon as I’d agree. Lots of sobbing and begging to change on his end. this became an every other day occurrence toward the end. • refused condoms, no birth control because it ‘fucks with your body’ (like seriously, your cocaine addiction doesn’t though?) So yeah, obviously I got pregnant. Had no say in anything, including my child’s name. He also pressured me to do drugs while I was pregnant, but I never gave into that. • his addiction was my fault because I couldn’t stop him. Same with the drinking. He would get blackout drunk, pick fights with me and trash the house. Things escalated to physical abuse on almost a daily basis. • threatening to kill himself if I ever left. Eventually that graduated to threats of killing me and my son too.

There’s so much more but it’s stressful to write about even though it’s been over 8 years. I’m grateful to my son because even though he didn’t come through the best of circumstances, he gave me the strength to finally leave when he was born.”

—magnumthepi

24. When they start smothering you, even a little.

“So I once worked as a prison warden in a prison for men who had abused their s.o. During lunch breaks I used to read their court trials, the legal reasoning interest me. During one lunch break I said to a more experienced colleague –Well, from working here and reading about all these trials I’ve learnt the importance of telling my *daughter (she was in her early teens back then) to walk out after the first strike.* –No, said my colleague, you tell her to walk out when he starts to always pick her up from work. You tell her to walk out when she wants to go out with her friends and he insists on her staying at home by saying ” but honey, I had planned to make you dinner and then we can cuddle in the sofa and watch a movie. That’s where it begins. When the first strike hits she has been controlled for a long, long time.”

—Norman3

25. When they never have anything to say about any person of the opposite sex, but especially their exes.

“Two things made me uneasy and really stand out in retrospect.

He had nothing positive to say about any woman he had ever dated, or even met. All ex-girlfriends were ‘mentally ill’ and hateful. All his friend’s girlfriends/wives were mean and overbearing. He liked his mom, but no other women.

He isolated me from my friends. He kept saying how nice it was to stay in alone and kept asking me to break established plans with friends.”

—victorontonian

26. When they constantly harass you about all your friends of the opposite sex.

“Would absolutely fall apart when the idea of me drinking around women came up.

Would call me when I went out to check if I was OK.

Constantly asking what I thought about my friends who were girls.

Obviously she ended up cheating on me.”

—DAHGS

27. When they argue about every little thing.

“Expecting me to reply within a half hour and then subsequently giving me the silent treatment to ‘punish’ me for not replying. Then complain that I didn’t care enough to check in on her when she was ignoring me.

Also arguing at every little thing and then giving the silent treatment when I didn’t agree with her on something.

Expecting me to ‘accept her for who she is,’ the smoking, drinking mess of a person who was too lazy to work for her future and expected me to give her money for everything, then blaming everything that went wrong on her abusive father.

The best(?) of all, threatening suicide when I decided I had enough and was going to cut off the relationship. That was pretty traumatic too.

P.S. sorry if this isn’t completely relevant to the question.”

—GOverlord

28. When they ‘neg’ you.

“Negging. First sign of this, run away.”

—SlanginPie

29. When there’s a voice in your head telling you something is wrong.

“Not really answering the question, but after a while there was always a ‘voice’ in the back of my head telling me that what was going on was wrong. I’d just ignore it, or convince myself that it was normal almost automatically. People would tell me that she was being abusive and everything would ring vaguely true somehow but I’d just ignore it for a million reasons. Low self-esteem being one of them, feeling somehow responsible for what they did, being the another. It wasn’t until I one day realized that I was subconsciously making excuses for them in my head that I decided to get the fuck out of there, and even though I knew at that point that the relationship was not good for me, it was still the hardest decision ever.”

—picassos_left_nut

30. When their actions make you feel anything less than equal and loved.

“There are so many red flags and scenarios that could point to an abusive relationship, but it comes down to this: If your partner’s actions make you feel guilty, worthless, defensive or making excuses, or ANYTHING less than EQUAL and LOVED—you need to get out….especially if you find yourself making excuses again for why you can’t get out.”

—Matilda__Wormwood

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bedheadisme · 5 years ago

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Part 2

It was around the end of January 2019 that I missed my period. I waited and waited, thinking it was my body adjusting to not being on birth control for the first time since I was 13. All the same, I decided that I’d stop drinking to be better safe than sorry.

A few days later I worked up the nerve to go buy a pregnancy test. I spent a lot of time online looking for one that was the most accurate before I went to the store and picked out the one I had decided on. Even though TJ and I had been together for eight years and my mom was constantly nagging me about giving her grandbabies I was worried that someone would see me. Funny that I was still afraid that my mom would just decide to be at Kroger at that very moment and lose her mind. I knew at that point that even if I was pregnant the chances of a miscarriage were high.

I didn’t want anyone but me and TJ to know until we were through the scary part. So the next morning I woke up extra early so that I could take the test. It was around 5:30 a.m. when I took it and I went and laid back in the bed with TJ. I wasn’t going to sit in the bathroom staring at the clock. I held his hand while the time ticked by and he remained blissfully asleep. Five minutes passed and I crept out of the bed. I stood in front of my bathroom door for another two trying to psyche myself up for whatever was behind the door. Finally, when my heart felt like it was pounding in my throat, I opened the door and peeked at the test.

I was pregnant.

Holy shit I was pregnant.

I crept back in the room and curled up next to TJ. “Hey babe,” I whispered into the dark.

“Hmm? What babe?”

“Are you sure you want kids?”

“Of course I do” he said tiredly.

“Well, that’s good because I’m pregnant.”

He grabbed my arms and looked at me, as if to make sure I wasn’t kidding and then pulled me closer to him and crushed his lips to mine. When we finally rolled out of bed together he stretched over the bed and kissed my stomach with a little grin.

“I don’t care if we’re late today, we’re getting donuts and coffee before work. Wait. You can’t have coffee. Or caffeine. Or sushi. “

“I’m sure it’s fine hon. I’ll get a tea and it will be fine.”

I spent a lot of that first day randomly grinning and resisting the urge to text literally everyone I knew that we were starting a whole new adventure. My mom was going to be so happy. The one thing she was always asking me for was grandbabies. Between the random grinning and impulse control I also yo-yo’d with little tinges of fear. What if I lost the little nugget? What if I was a bad mom? What if the major change to our relationship pushed us apart instead of further together. I had spent the majority of my youth doing everything in my power to avoid being a single mom.

If I’m being honest I never thought I wanted kids until TJ. I had always held the stance that if I wanted a child i’d like to adopt because of how full of addiction, depression, and anxiety my family history is. My mom, great as she is, got so stressed that she would pass out in random places. I imagine some kind of panic attacks because I only ever heard about it in hindsight. My dad, an alcoholic who consistently made the worst life choices possible. Supposedly a great grandpa who killed himself. An uncle who recovered from alcohol addiction just to hang himself in the garage. Another who died of cancer. Add all that up to a gene pool that I didn’t know how to protect a tiny little human from.

The thing about TJ was, he was the only boy who would pass his line down and I had watched him for the last eight years. Confident that we could overcome anything. Every child he met was mesmerized by him. It’s like they saw him and simultaneously saw a big kid and a jungle gym to climb on. He’s so good with them that the fears I have of being a bad single mom with a crappy gene pool seem like a minor risk.

The next week he surprised me with conversations about things like decorating for the baby, taking me to the pharmacy and buying me prenatals. Once, when I sat my phone down and didn’t hear it ring he showed up where I was, saying he was worried that something had happened. I laughed it off and told him that he was already acting like a worried dad. He went out and got a little onesie with his family crest that said “Coming Soon” for his parents.

I had scheduled my very first appointment for February 18th. It was a Friday when I started spotting. I was worried but a quick google told me that a little spotting was normal but much more and it was a sign of a miscarriage. A rock settled in my stomach that night when I told TJ what was going on.

“We knew this was a risk, we’ll just wait it out and see what happens.”

Saturday I was still bleeding and I called the doctor and asked them what they thought. They told me that they couldn’t see me until after the first appointment but if I was really worried I would need to go to the ER. Sunday I was still spotting and I procrastinated, thinking I would go tomorrow if I hadn’t stopped. As I sat at my desk on that Monday, still bleeding I texted TJ and told him that I was going to go to the ER. He told me that he would go with me if I waited until he was off of work.

Looking back, I don’t know why I didn’t wait. Maybe it’s because I’m used to dealing with my health on my own. Maybe I was afraid that I had waited too long. Mostly, I think I didn’t want to see TJ’s face when the doctor told me that I was in the process of miscarrying. I was convinced that I had done something to make this happen. Maybe it was that I hadn’t quit smoking soon enough. Maybe the universe was telling me that this wasn’t meant to happen for us yet or at all.

I walked into the emergency room and spoke in hushed tones with the admissions lady. I explained why I was there and they took me back almost immediately. They took my blood and asked me questions like how long I had been bleeding and if I had taken a pregnancy test. The sterile smell of the hospital was making me nauseous. I sat in the room in my paper gown and waited - shaking.

How was I going to tell TJ about this. I wanted to text my mom and ask her to be there but I hadn’t even told her that we thought we were pregnant for this very reason. The doctor came into the room finally and sat across from me in my paper gown. He was a middle aged man and I don’t really remember what he looked like.

“So after looking at your blood levels, it doesn’t look like you are pregnant. Your hormone levels don’t show that you’re having a miscarriage because you weren’t pregnant. I’ll let you decide if that’s good or bad news. We’re going to give you a routine pelvic exam and then you’ll be free to get out of here.”

“OK.”

I shuffled to the table and let them poke and prod me. It was cold and I couldn’t stop replaying what the doctor said. It was like, because I was there by myself, it was no big deal. Just another girl dodging the pregnancy bullet. I did cry for a few minutes in the silence of the office. Then I told myself that I didn’t want to walk out of the hospital crying. I needed to be somewhere else. I waited in my paper gown to have them take the IV out of my arm. When the nurse came in and took it out I asked her “Is this common?”

“Oh I don’t have your case I don’t know.”

“Oh, is having a false positive pregnancy test common” I asked numbly.

“I’m sorry honey, it’s my first day. I really don’t know.”

After the IV was out and I made my way to my car I sat in the ER parking lot for about 20 minutes numbly. I think I texted TJ that we’d talk about it when he got off of work. I’m pretty sure I went home and sat in my living room in silence. I might have turned on the TV but to be honest I just sat there and replayed the doctors words in my head over and over again. When I was finished replaying his words I tried to mentally rehearse how I was going to tell TJ that I had let him down.

What if I couldn’t give him a child? Was this the beginning of the end for us? What had I done wrong? Was I seriously so dumb that I had managed to do a pregnancy test incorrectly? And that little baby onesie was just sitting in my office at home. Staring at me like some kind of beacon of failure. When TJ texted me telling me he was ready to get out of work I drove in silence to get him. I sat at the wheel and gripped it as he climbed in.

I started driving and as we got on the new circle exit he asked “So are we going to talk about it?”

Woodenly I told him that I had never been pregnant. And then I told him that I didn’t want to talk about it. What I meant when I said that was that I didn’t want to talk about it with other people. Looking back on that conversation, I can see why he interpreted it as me not wanting to talk to him about it altogether. I told him that he could talk to another person about it. I certainly wasn’t prepared to work through everything that was going through my mind at that moment, much less his feelings.

“Honestly, I think it would have been worse if you had had a miscarrage. At least we didn’t lose it.”

I didn’t. I had been mentally preparing for the relatively common miscarraige that one out of three women experience. Not to find out that I never had a child. Not to hear the doctor say he’d let me decide if this was a good or a bad thing. Not to be hit in the face with the fear that I wasn’t going to be able to give TJ something that he wanted so desperately.

I spent the first week after that doctors appointment glancing at the alcohol in my house thinking that I shouldn’t pick it up at all. I had a gut feeling that once I started, I wasn’t going to be able to stop drinking. I try not to drink when I’m feeling down. Sometimes I succeed and more often I end up crying at the bottom of a bottle. The next week I broke the news to my mom and she was understanding. We both cried. She said I was young and that me and TJ could try again.

It was around week two that I broke down and started drinking again. Every night for weeks. I’d wake up numb and hungover, go to work, listen to depressing music and go home and do it all over again. There was one Saturday in particular that was pretty bad. It was the weekend after my scheduled first pregnancy appointment. I had cancelled it but I marked it on the calendar all the same. TJ went out to hang with his friends and I sat at the house by myself. I was drinking and depressed. I was lonely.

That’s the thing that I wasn’t prepared for. I didn’t know how to talk to people about everything that had happened. I didn’t even tell my best friend. I just swirled further down the bottle. I was getting more and more anxious as I drank more. I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that there was a gun in our bedroom. Let me pause here, because I know what this sounds like. It sounds like I was thinking about blowing my brains out and being done with everything.

But that’s not what this was. This was me thinking about it being there. Me thinking about the possibility of getting so drunk that I’d lose all reason and my drunk self would make the decision for me. I didn’t want to die. If only because the thought of how it would hurt everyone around me. That being said, the more I thought about that gun I decided that I needed someone here with me.

I texted my best friend Becki and asked her if she’d come over and keep me company. That I was lonely and sloshed. Looking for someone to pass the time. Looking back, I’m glad that I did. She came over and we talked about everything except what I should have talked about. Movies, television, books. Those are easy things to talk about. Losing a pregnancy that I never had, that was something infinitely more difficult.

February and March were difficult months. I was at an all time high consumption of bourbon. The first week of April TJ and I got into one of our bigger arguments. We both got drunk and ended up yelling at each other. Him about how I was always drinking and wasn’t talking to him about the no baby thing. Me about how I thought he was going to leave me because I couldn’t even get pregnant.

“Do you really think that I would leave you if you can’t give me a baby?”

“Yeah, I do. I mean, it’s what you want more than anything. Why stay with someone who can’t give you that? I’m fucking useless.”

“Babe, I’m not going to leave you. I love you and I’m tired of you saying I’m going to leave. I’m not.”

On April 13th we both woke up and shuffled around each other. Offering apologies and me promising that I’d try to communicate better. Surprisingly, the fight had left me feeling lighter. Like for the first time in months, things might start to turn the corner for us. Maybe the timing hadn’t been right for us to start a family. But we could keep trying. Through the haze of the last few months I had learned that it wasn’t unusual for pregnancy to take up to eighteen months to happen when you’ve been on birth control as long as I had been. It didn’t change what had happened, but gave me a little hope that my body wasn’t defective.

“You wanna go out today and see a movie or go ride? Just get out of the house today? I think we could both use it?” TJ asked.

“Sure. I think it’s supposed to rain tomorrow, so let’s go ride today. If you still want to see a movie we can go tomorrow. I’d hate to waste the sunshine.”

#false positive #depression #imnotproud #losingwhatyouneverhad #ptsd

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