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chickensarentcheap · 3 years ago

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Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 46

Title: Not Broken, Just Bent

Warnings: mention of suicidal thoughts, profanity, angst

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @tragiclyhip, @miss-smutty

“I appreciate this,” Tyler says, as he and Desi work side by side in the front foyer; assisting the three littles with the zippers on their coats and the laces on their boots.

He’d called the neighbour on a whim; desperate for even the smallest bit of help. He’s never been one to just reach out to others; long drilled into him that only a pathetic and weak man needs a helping hand. But if the first nightmare in Dhaka had taught him anything, it’s that even the biggest and strongest need someone to lean on from time to time; his body and his spirit so broken that he’d required assistance with even the most basic and simplest of everyday living skills. Esme stepping up to the plate and never once complaining about the energy it depleted her of or the time it took out of her own schedule; never making him feel as if he were a burden. Accompanying -and chauffeuring, as both his physical limitations and pain medications made it impossible for him to function to that extent- him to doctors visits and physiotherapy sessions and counselling appointments with addiction specialists. Always wanting her right there with him even when the most difficult of subjects were broached or intense physical exercises caused excruciating pain. Her quiet presence and all of the patience and resilience inhabiting that tiny body both a source of strength and a tremendous comfort. Accompanied by the tender touch of her hands as they massaged his shoulders or rubbed his back or her fingertips cleared wayward strands of hair from his forehead and out of his eyes. Voice soft and soothing even during the moments where frustration and pain had him raging; a palm on the back of his neck and her nose pressed against his temple as she encouraged him to ‘just breathe’ and reminded him of how far he’d already come and how he was proving all of the doctors and the naysayers wrong.

Six years later she’d find herself back in that situation again; his babies growing and thriving inside her as she once more took on the role of his caretaker. Having to lend assistance with even the mundane things most people take for granted; helping him to the bathroom when the pain was too intense to make it even when the aid of crutches or a walker, keeping a well organized and attentively followed medication schedule, feeding him when the tremors in his hands -a side effect of the meds- made it impossible for him to even hold a fork or spoon. Giving him showers or sponge baths or washing his hair in the kitchen sink and trimming both his hair and his beard. And she’d willingly learned more intensive care as well; wound irrigation and cleaning and how to switch out the IV and medication bags when an infection in the lower back had forced him onto powerful antibiotics. She’d been overwhelmed and exhausted but had never shown it; never losing her patience or her temper with him and never reacting when his own -triggered by pain and frustration and vulnerability- kicked off.

Months of her constant presence, reassurance and steadfast care had opened his eyes to who his wife TRULY is; an incredibly strong and resilient woman that has been through hell and back -a number of times- but never lets the situation break her. Always positive and upbeat; gracing him with smiles or ruffles of his hair or kisses to his cheek and words of praise and encouragement. It had given him a new appreciation and respect for her; how easy she made it look while caring for him and keeping a home running and taking care of his children. Even now he remains in awe of her; the amount of determination and love that can exist in someone so small. And if it taught them both anything, it’s that they truly ARE a team; relying on one another in many different ways. What could have destroyed other couples only served to make them stronger. That foundation built upon a unique and powerful bond and formed through a complicated and dangerous situation never crumbling; holding them up with everything around them seemed to want to break them down. Everything became more solid; their marriage, their roles are parents, their friendship. And they’ve discovered they loved each other even more than they ever realized; a love so complete and whole and all consuming.

Now it’s his turn; shove all of his issues and his demons and monsters aside to take care of her. It’s the one thing he’s always been both good at, and consistent with; shelving all of his problems in order to focus on hers. It’s two fold. A chance to show her just how loved and appreciated and adored she actually is; a way of proving just how grateful he is for everything she’s done -for him AND their family- throughout the past twelve and a half years. And it keeps both his body and his mind busy; making her his number priority an effective way to battle back against his demons. But He realizes he can’t do it alone; the old adage of ‘it takes a village’ proving true. Seven kids in the house means a lot of noise and a lot of activity. Not the ideal setting and atmosphere for someone that is both mentally AND physically exhausted.

While Desi had been the obvious choice on who to seek out, it had taken Tyler nearly a half an hour to convince himself to make the call; feeling guilty for yet again turning to their neighbour to lend a hand. It’s primarily an ego issue; feeling like ‘less of a man’ for not only needing help, but outwardly admitting it and lowering his guard enough to ask for it. Esme would blame it on the toxic masculinity that still lingers deep inside; the ghost of his father telling him he should be dealing everything on his own and that not being able to is a sign of both cowardice and weakness. It remains a struggle at times; breaking away from that train of thought and reminding himself that everything his old man had taught him -or attempted to- had been unhealthy and toxic and nothing but complete bullshit. And Desi is like family; always stepping up when either of them have needed him. A loyal confidant and steadfast supporter, he’d easily and effortlessly blended with large broods; enjoying the time spent under their crazy and chaotic roof and giving the kids the kind of uncle they deserve. And while it normally takes Tyler months or even years to trust someone when it comes to his personal life and the safety and the well being of his family, with Desi it has come fairly easily. That laid back and enormously generous personality and the gentle and compassionate way he treats Esme and the kids had triggered Tyler’s instincts. Letting him know that the man was trustworthy and reliable and in no way a threat.

“Anytime,” Desi says, as he finishes with the laces on Takota’s boots and turns to help Brooklyn, allowing her to attempt the tying and only stepping in which she gets frustrated and gives up. “You know I’m here for you guys. Always.”

Tyler slips a purple and pink knitted beanie onto Addie’s head. “Seem to rely on you an awful lot.”

“It’s what friends do, right? Help each other out when they need it. They step up. Lend a hand. No one can go through life alone. No one.”

“You wouldn’t have been able to tell me that thirteen years ago. I was pretty sure that’s how I’d live out the rest of my life. And die.”

“Were you happy though? Living like that? All by your lonesome? Out there in the middle of nowhere?”

“I had company.”

“A dog and a chicken are NOT company,” Desi informs him. “Not by a long shot.”

“Dogs are man’s best friend, aren’t they? And it was a pretty smart chicken.”

“You can’t tell me you were happy like that. Living way out there, alone, no one to talk to. No one is happy living like that.”

“In all fairness, ninety percent of the time I was too out of it to be carrying on conversations.”

It feels like a lifetime ago; that rundown shack in the middle of the outback, surrounded by nothing but the sparse trees and dry earth and looming mountain ranges. It had seemed like the perfect place to let his wounds fester and his addictions take hold; no one trying to dictate what he could and couldn’t do, no attempts at trying to talk him into rehab or counselling, far enough out that not even Koen or Rata made it a habit of stopping by unannounced. Out there he’d been surrounded by nothing but emptiness; a perfect match for the gaping hole in his chest where his heart had once been. A punishment of sorts. Nothing but the mistakes of the past and his overwhelming grief and guilt to keep him warm at night. Out there he could let the demons run rampant; drinking himself into oblivion and abusing Oxy at an alarming rate. His last coherent thought before passing out would always be the same; that the substances he’d put in his body would be enough to ensure he didn’t wake up the next day. But he always did; usually coming to in the middle of the warped and dusty floor or sitting at the kitchen table. Surrounded by empty bottles of booze and tipped over vials of pills and crippled by a brutal hangover; the headache and nausea and the dizziness so intense he’d have to crawl to the bathroom.

When it became apparent that the mix of alcohol and painkillers weren’t enough to do the trick, he began taking the most risky and dangerous jobs possible. By that time, he was fully engrossed in his death wish; too chicken to pull the trigger himself so instead relying on someone else to do it for him. Every time he went out, he’d all but pleaded to a higher power that it would be his last. Resorting to begging and pleading with whatever -or whoever- was watching his ass to take break; take their eyes off him or shirk their duties long enough for him to catch a bullet to the head. Yet it never happened. No matter how many times he’d spun that barrel and taken the risk, he always lived to see another day. Which in turn had only made his desperation even more intense; feeding into that grief and the sorrow that threatened to drown him yet never took him right under. That day on the cliff when he’d plunged into the water below, there’d been nothing stopping him from giving up; the weight of his regret and self loathing enough to keep him below the surface and allow his air to slowly run out. He hadn’t been afraid. He’d been ready to die for a long time.

Yet something had told him to keep going. A little voice hanging onto a thread of hope; louder than those attempting to destroy him. And when he’d pulled himself out of the water, he’d found he suddenly felt lighter; as if some of the burdens and past mistakes had temporarily lifted and been replaced by the first shred of contentment he’d experienced in a hell of a long time. Less than forty minutes later, he’d be watching Esme as she climbed up onto his porch. Studying her as she crouched down and showered his dog with attention. Finding himself both curious and intrigued about the unknown, tattooed and pierced dark haired beauty that had suddenly shown up in his life.

“You gotta admit, that kind of existence IS lonely,” Desi says, as he opens the front door and motions for the three littles to step through. “All alone? Out in a place like THAT? I’ve been there, remember. I’ve seen what it’s like. It’s desolate and it’s isolating and…”

“And it’s what I wanted at the time.’

Desi cocks an eyebrow, then steps out onto the front porch. “What you wanted? Or what you thought you deserved?”

A smirk tugs at the corner of Tyler’s mouth, and he stands on the threshold with a palm flat against the door, effectively holding it open. “What seemed right at the time.”

“Were you? Lonely?”

“Never gave it much thought, to be honest. But in all fairness, most of my days were spent drunk and high off my ass, so…”

“You never once wished that you had someone around? Someone to talk to? Spend time with? Get...you know...PERSONAL with.”

“If I wanted that, I could get it. Easily. There was no shortage of that, believe me.”

“You never wanted more than that? I mean, there’s more to life than THAT. What about bonding with someone? Yeah, sex is great, but what about everything else? Companionship. Friendship. Someone to come home to at the end of the day or however long you were gone for some times. Someone that’s just...THERE...you know?”

“I was a fucking mess. Way worse than you could even begin to imagine. Why would I bring someone into that? Why would I do that to someone? Ruin their life like that? They get with me, everything’s great for a while, then they discover just how messed up I am and take off. What would be the point? Bringing someone into that? That’s just wasting their time.”

“Was it about them or you? Not wanting to get involved with someone.”

Arching an eyebrow, Tyler leans against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Seems like maybe you were using all that as excuses. To protect yourself. That maybe you were scared to get too attached. Just in case they DID decide it was too much and run off.”

A slow grin tugs at his lips. “ You’re starting to sound an awful lot like Esme. You’re getting into the psychoanalyzing business too, huh?”

“I’m just saying that maybe it ran deeper than worrying about other peoples’ feelings. Maybe you were worried about your own too.”

“I was dead inside, Des. I wasn’t feeling a damn thing.”

“Except for shame and guilt and regret. And a whole hell of a lot of self loathing.”

“You really ARE spending too much with my wife.”

“I just think it makes sense. You protecting yourself too. But not willing to admit it. At least not out loud. Wouldn’t it have been worth giving it a shot? Finding someone? Seeing if they could put up with everything?”

“I was an alcoholic mercenary with a drug addiction and a death wish. Who would put up with that?”

“Esme, for one.”

“Esme is an entirely different breed all her own. I highly doubt there’s many out there like her. That would willingly hook up with a fucking train wreck and put up with everything I’ve put her through. That I KEEP putting her through.”

“You know, you’re not as bad as you think you are. Do you have some issues? Yeah. But shit, we all do. We’re all a mess. In one way or another. You might be a little messier than most, but…”

“A little? That’s being awfully nice about it.”

“Look, she sticks around, doesn’t she? She’s still here. Twelve and half years later. You really think if things were THAT bad she wouldn’t have hauled ass a long time ago? Didn’t y’all split up for a while?”

“Six months,” Tyler confirms.

“And yet you got back together. She wanted things to work out. Not like she kicked your ass to the curb and hooked up with some other guy. You guys fixed your shit, made things better. She wouldn’t have taken you back if you were that bad. She wouldn’t have put herself or the kids through that.”

“Still a lot for one person to deal with. We’ve been through a lot shit. Way too much, actually.”

“Shit that would have broken weaker people,” Desi points out. “Both of you...separately... are strong as hell. But the two of you together? That’s a force to be reckoned with. And maybe she is a different breed of woman. Maybe it was the way she was raised that made her the way she is. Or the way she WASN’T raised. But let me tell you, she is a tough little thing. Feisty as all hell.”

“Totally a study in contradiction. You see that little body and that cute face and you think she’s all innocent and sweet and the next thing you know…”

“You’re married to her and seven kids?” Desi grins.

“I was going to say the next thing you know, she’s telling you where to go and how to get there and putting you in your place. Totally not what I expected, that’s for sure. Woman that size to be such a challenge. And so fucking bossy. If you heard half the shit that comes out of her mouth…”

“She keeps you on your toes. Challenges you. She’s definitely no push over. Which leads right back to my point. If you were as bad as you think you are, do you really think a woman like her would stick around? Hell no. She’d tell you off and pack her shit and take off. There’s no if’s, end’s, or butt’s about that. You brought that much shit and pain into her life? Things would have never gotten this far.”

“You know, you make a little TOO much sense.”

“I just tell ‘em like I see ‘em. You’re not the massive prick you think you are. Maybe a little bit of one…”

Tyler smirks.

“She showed up right when she was supposed to. That day at your place. Think of all the things in both your pasts that had to go wrong for you two to cross paths. If even just one of things went right, you probably never would have laid eyes on her. And that would have been a damn shame.”

“Yeah,” he nods slowly, considering his friend’s words. “It would have been.”

“The right woman came along at the right time. If your heart and your head didn’t think so, you wouldn’t be where you are now. You wouldn’t have the life you do. Hell, you probably wouldn’t have a life at all.”

“I’d be dead. If Esme hadn’t come along. I don’t doubt that for a second.”

“Daddy!” Addie clomps up the front walk and climbs the porch stairs; abandoning the task of helping her siblings build a messy fort of wet snow. And she wraps both arms around one of his thighs and leans her slight, tiny body into him. “Do we REALLY have to go out?”

“It’s just for a few hours.” He scoops her up into his arms and settles her on his hip. “ Go get some lunch, go see a movie, stop at the candy store. Doesn’t that sound like fun? A day out with Des? You always love your days out with Des.”

“It does sound like fun and I DO love going out with Desi, but…” she curls both arms around his neck and nestles her face against the side of his throat. “...I want to stay with you and mummy. She was gone this morning. And it scared me. That she wasn’t here to do our thing.”

“Well tomorrow you can do your thing. Sometimes OTHER things come up. Can’t help that.”

“And I only got to spend a little bit of time with her because she’s been sleeping a LONG time!”

“She’s only been sleeping an hour. Didn’t you spend some time with her? Didn't you take a bath with her? In the big tub?”

“Yeah, but…”

“I need you to cooperate, okay? Mummy needs some rest. And she can’t really get that with all you guys in the house. Right now, she needs to sleep and when she wakes up, I need to be able to take care of her. And if I’ve got all you guys to take care of, I can’t really do that, can I?”

“Is she sick?”

“She’s a little under the weather.”

“Like a cough due to cold?”

“Nothing like that. She’s just feeling a little rundown. Nothing some quiet time won’t help. So you think you can do me a solid? Go out with a Desi for a bit?”

Addie sighs heavily. “I guess…”

“We’ll have a great time,” Desi promises. “We always do. Mommy and daddy need some time alone. It happens. They’ve got some stuff to take care of.”

Addie reaches for him; allowing herself to pass from one set of arms to another. “Like making a baby?”

“No one is making any babies,” Tyler informs. “Not in this house anyway.”

“Why not?”

“Because our days of making babies are long gone. The shop is closed. All done. That’s it.”

“One more wouldn’t be so bad,” Addie reasons. “Another sister.”

“One more WOULD be bad. And a shock because neither mummy or I can have more babies. Now…” laying a hand on the back of her head, he leans in to press a kiss to the tip of her nose. “....be good. I don’t want any bad reports when Desi gets back.”

“Why you telling me? I’m always good.”

Tyler stares pointedly at his daughter.

“Well, ALMOST always.”

“Remember what I said. No taking off. You stay with Desi. Or with TJ. Got it?”

Addie gives a thumbs up. “Got it!”

“Have fun. And don’t worry about mummy. She’s fine, I’ll take care of her. I promise.”

“You better,” the five year old warns. “‘Cause that’s my mummy and if anything happens to her…”

“Your mummy is in good hands,” Tyler promises. “Daddy knows what he's doing. I’m not some rookie, you know.”

“You be nice to mummy,” Addie orders. “No arguing and no making her cry and no making fun of how tiny she is.”

“You’re kidding me, right? That’s my go to. Making fun of her height.”

“Speaking as a short person, it’s NOT funny. At all.”

“I wonder how funny it will be when I DO pick you and your mum up and put you in my pockets.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Addie’s eyes narrow as she glares at him.

“Don’t give me that look,” He pecks her pouted lips. “You and your mumma both know everything I say, I say because I love you guys. Can I help it that you’re both so tiny and cute?”

“Can we help it that you’re so big and have humongous feet and ears?” Addie counters.

“Ouch,” Desi chuckles. “Savage.”

“She gets that from her mumma. Little, but so full of rage.” He digs his fingers into his daughter’s side, tickling her until the pout turns into a smile and she begins to giggle. “Do I need to remind you that you got my ears? And my feet? You all do.”

“Poor us,” Addie quips, and then squeals and giggles even louder when he brushes his beard against her cheeks.

“I love you,” he says, and presses a kiss to the freckled bridge of his daughter's nose. “Be good, okay? I’m counting on you here.”

“I got this!” She flashes two thumbs up over Desi’s shoulder as he carries her down the stairs. “See you later, alligator!”

“In a while crocodile,” Tyler responds.

“Blow a kiss, goldfish!”

“Bye-bye butterfly.”

“Toodle-loo kangaroo!”

Tyler shoots her a wink and then steps out onto the front porch. Hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie as he watches Desi herd the noisy and excited and noisy bunch out the front gate and then down the slush covered sidewalk. Waiting until they disappear around the corner before heading back into the house.

*****

The shower feels damn good. Hot enough to sting and to cause a new layer of perspiration to form on his skin; gathering at his temples and along his hairline and above his upper lip. The latter he swipes away with the tip of his tongue and then places his palms flat against the tile; chin tucked into his chest and his eyes closed as the water beats down on his weary body. Physically speaking, he feels great; very little pain or tightness across the small of his back, a dull yet manageable ache in his repaired shoulder, the swelling of his right knee not as not as prominent as it usually is. The latter surprises him. He’d pushed himself extremely hard during his run that morning, greatly exceeding anything he’d ever put himself on the treadmill and far beyond the limits the specialists had put on him after his second surgery. And while he knows he shouldn’t ‘test the waters’ and there’s a legitimate risk of ligament tears and dislocations, he’s never been one to play by the rules. Refusing to let anyone confine him to what’s conventionally acceptable; always wanting to prove not only the naysayers wrong, but his own mind and body. An injury he can deal with; another operation and the recovery afterwards a lot easier to bear then the damage to the ego. His physicality has always been of major importance; strength, size, speed, stamina. And he’s had a hell of a time getting back to even seventy percent of where he’d been five years ago. When Nathan had managed to get the jump on him and achieved what no other foe had ever managed: breaking his body and mind.

He refuses to dwell on it. Nothing he can do will ever erase or lessen what happened; his body forever damaged and his entire lifestyle permanently altered. Physical injuries, mental health issues, the constant toeing of the line between addiction and sobriety. And he knows things could be a lot worse; dying that day on the bridge in Dhaka and never getting his second chance. He’d been given an incredible opportunity; an absolution for the mistakes of the past and a whole new life and a bright and content future. But it hasn’t been without its own share of pain and sacrifice and suffering; every blessing coming at an exceptional cost. Ones he’d happily paid and would do so again; willingly putting his own body and sanity on the line if it means keeping his family safe and sound.

A half an hour passes; hot water tank nearly drained when he finally steps out of the shower. Body still damp when he heads into the bedroom; a towel wrapped loosely around his waist and another being used to vigorously dry his hair. Slivers of light manage to trickle through the gap in the room darkening curtains, and he uses it to his advantage; quietly navigating the spacious master suite. She’s been asleep for more than an hour now; on his side of the bed with the heavy comforter pulled up to her chin and her cheek nestled into his pillow. Normally she would have argued with him; pointing out the list of things that -in her always busy mind- needed to be done before her sister’s arrival. But her ‘meltdown’ earlier had left her emotionally exhausted and she hadn’t kicked up even the slightest bit of fuss when he suggested she take time for herself; a long soak in the tub, her favourite ‘comfort’ clothes, a well deserved nap.

It’s been twelve and a half years of sacrifice and compromise on her part; giving up her old life in favour of a new one with him, adjusting to life in a new country only to have it torn apart and be forced back home, reluctantly agreeing to his return to the job and the worry and the stress that came with it. Five pregnancies that resulted in seven amazing and beautiful children; her physical and mental health paying a steep price each time, yet never denying him the desire for a big family. And the times she’s seen him near death. Horrendous injuries inflicted upon him; those long days and nights by his side in various hospitals and eventually the arduous and painful roads to recovery. Yet she’s done it without complaint; throwing herself into caring for him and their family and consistently putting her own well being on the back burner.

Lowering himself cautiously onto the end of the bed, he once more scrubs at his hair and then tosses the towel in the direction of the laundry hamper; sighing when it misses its mark and falls heavily to the floor. While mentally weary, his body feels great; relieved to be relatively pain free and filled with an uncharacteristic optimism. The silver lining within a very dark and immense cloud. A welcome boost of confidence he hasn’t experienced in years; brave enough to consider that maybe...just maybe...the worst is now behind him. And as he studies his reflection in the mirror atop the dresser, for once he’s not finding all the faults. No anger or disgust when his fingers lightly travel over the myriad of scars that inhabit his face, no thoughts of how battered and worn down he appears. Instead he notices that his eyes seem brighter; not as haunted and empty as they’ve been since his return from Cambodia. His face has filled out; the slight weight gain making the lines that accompany aging -and a hard life lived on the edge- not seem as prominent. His chest and arms are bigger; the slightest of flexes stretching the tattoos that decorate the insides of both biceps and shoulders. The positivity is surprising; years spent living in a state of self loathing and speaking self deprecating words long ago taking their toll and reducing him to a man that didn’t give a shit about his personal appearance. As long as he maintained his strength and his quickness and his skills, that had been all that mattered; not giving a second thought to his choice of attire or the thickness of his beard or the unruliness of his hair.

He’s still not what would be considered high maintenance; the opposite of a Desi who spends more time getting ready than the average female and has closets full of insanely expensive high end clothing. Still the most comfortable in bare feet and board shorts; jeans and a simple t-shirt considered ‘dressing up’ in his world. It’s an effortless existence; relaxed and content and low key. And it’s one the entire family -aside from a very ‘girly’ Addie- has adopted. Happy and secure; tucked away at the end of that dead end street and surrounded by nature and the smells and the sounds of the ocean. Their own slice of paradise; hard work, resilience, and a hell of a lot of money turning what had once been a modest residence into their dream home. It will be their ‘happily after after’; the place where they’ll raise their children, spoil their grandkids, and grow old and grey together. And for once, he’s confident that will happen. That they’ll get those moments Esme often speaks wistfully about. When their home is empty and it’s just the two of them; quiet breakfasts on the back deck and dinners down by the water. When there’s more grey in their hair and wrinkles on their faces, yet they still walk along the beach hand in hand or with their arms wrapped around each other; indulging in their bantering and their teasing and stopping to steal kisses in the surf.

And still giving her piggy back rides back to the house.

He feels the mattress shift slightly, and he watches her reflection through the mirror as she adjusts her position in bed. Rolling over onto her back and stretching languorously; a long, content sigh escaping her lips and the heels of her palms pressing into her eyes. When she props herself onto her elbows and looks at him, her hair is disheveled and her eyes are slightly narrowed; a pout of confusion and disorientation capturing her lips.

“Tyler?”

“Yeah?”

“What time is it?”

“Almost one.”

The pout transforms into a frown. “In the afternoon?”

“No. Morning.”

“Smart ass,” she grumbles, and then flops down onto her back. A foot kicks off the heavy comforter in favour of coming in contact with his back; toes slowly brushing along the top edge of the towel. “What are you doing?”

“I was in the shower. Didn’t get a chance to do it when I got home from my run. With everything that happened and you leaving and having to take care of the kids....” his voice trails off. It’s the last thing he wants to revisit. His panic attack in the kitchen, the way his oldest son had sensed the urgency and the stress and stepped up to the plate to care for his little sister, the worry that his wife either wouldn’t return or would walk through the door and tell him that it was over. That he was just too much for her to bear; a heavy and troublesome burden weighing her down.

“Why’s it so quiet?” she asks, and he’s thankful for the change in conversation. “What happened? Did they get a little too feral? Get on your last nerve so you tranquilized all of them?”

“I sold them all. On the black market.”

“I hope you got a good price for them,” she chides, and trails the tip of her big toe along his spine. “I put a lot of work into those kids. Not to mention what my body went through. I think that’s worth a good penny, don’t you? Doesn’t it deserve compensation? My body going to absolute shit?”

“Your body is amazing. It was incredible when we met, and it’s even more incredible now.”

“You really are the most biased husband on earth. My ass is bigger. My hips are wider.”

“You’ve had babies. MY babies.”

“Yeah, I have,” she smiles, and once more props herself up on her elbows. “Only guy in the universe I’d ever give that many spawn too.”

He grins at her through the mirror. “I’m honoured.”

“You should be,” she playfully retorts. “You’re naked under that towel, aren’t you.”

“Well considering I just got out of the shower and I don’t wear board shorts or underwear when I’m in there…”

“Honey, as incredible as your body is and I could lie here all day admiring it, I’m going to need you to put some clothes on. It’s far too tempting to engage in X rated activity when you’re naked. Or next to naked.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. X rated activities. With me.”

“Normally it’s not. But I think I’m PMSing.” That dramatic, adorable pout again. “ I’ve got wicked cramps and I’m feeling bloated as fuck and you know my hesitancy on having sex when all of that is going on. I know it doesn’t faze you and as much as orgasms DO help, it’s just not my jam.”

“Say no more.” Sighing, he gets to his feet; grateful that the normally bone deep pain that resides in his right knee has settled into nothing more than a dull, manageable ache. And he grabs a pair of discarded jeans slung over the back of the chair by the balcony door; releasing the towel from around his waist and tossing it in the direction of the laundry hamper.

“Now that’s just evil,” Esme declares. “You are a bad, bad, BAD man.”

He smirks at her through the mirror. “Why’s that?”

“Don’t play innocent with me. You know exactly what you’re doing. Just dropping the towel like that. That’s so, so, SO mean.”

“Gotta give you something to stare at, yeah?”

“I prefer to call it admiring. And I have done a lot of admiring over the last twelve and half years. You never disappoint, husband.”

“I aim to please.”

“And do you ever hit your mark. Each and every time.”

Grinning, he tugs the jeans up over his hips and ass and tends to the button and zipper; pushing a hand through his damp hair as he approaches the side of the bed. “Move.”

“I like this spot. It’s YOUR spot. It’s got all your grooves in it. It’s comfortable.”

“Yeah, but it’s MY spot. And you know how anal I am about my spot. So haul ass. Please.”

“Grump face,” she mutters, but wriggles her way backward across the bed; rolling onto her hip as he joins her; sliding under the comforter and laying on his side facing her.

“Come here…” Reaching out, he curls an arm around her petite frame and pulls her into him. Hand resting in the middle of her back as his other arm slips under her shoulder; thigh wedging between her legs.. “...I’ll make you feel better, baby. In a non X rated way.”

“You’re so selfless.” She presses her body against his; a hand pushing through his hair and her head tucking under his chin. Eyes closing and a long, content sigh escaping her as she breathes in his familiar scent. Clean and crisp; notes of sandalwood and citrus. “So generous. Where ARE the kids?”

“Desi took them out. Lunch and a movie. Candy bar afterwards.”

“He just offered or....?”

“I called him. Told him you were having a rough day. That I needed some time and some space and some quiet. To take care of my girl.”

A smile plays on her lips as she pulls back to look at him. “Your girl, huh?”

“That’s what you are, aren’t ya? Or would I rather I call you my old lady?”

“I would definitely NOT rather that. I like it; being called your girl. It’s cute. I like the sound of it.”

He presses a kiss to the bridge of her nose. Palm sliding up her back, across her shoulder and then gently cupping the side of her face ; thumb repeatedly brushing against the top of her cheek.

She likes these moments with him. Quiet and content; bodies pressed together in a pure and innocent form of intimacy. The way his gaze never wavers ; as if he's intently studying every inch of her features and committing them to memory. Love and adoration written as plain as day upon his face; the softness of his expression, the gentle touch of a callused palm and fingertips, the tender smile that plays on his lips. A beautiful man with a not so beautiful past. A childhood filled with torment and abuse and anguish and tremendous loss, followed by years of substance abuse and a life lived on the edge; hounded by immense grief and guilt and regret and anxious for death to claim him. It’s no surprise that he has the issues he does; no one can go through a lifetime of trauma and come out of it unscathed. But it’s a shock he isn’t worse than he is. Still filled with so much strength; resilient and brave and never backing down from even the biggest of challenges. Loving and compassionate and sensitive. A striking juxtaposition considering his choice of career. A hardened and highly skilled mercenary that kills as a means to an end, not because he enjoys it.

“So you actually CALLED Desi?” she inquires. “For help? That’s a little...out of character.”

“Didn’t have much of a choice. Your sister won’t be here until later and I wasn’t waiting that long. So I got a hold of him and asked him to do me a favour. If he could take the kids so I could concentrate on you. That’s kind of hard to do when there’s seven plus one under the same roof.”

“That’s HUGE for you. You didn’t just acknowledge and admit you needed help, you actually ACTED on it.”

“What’s so huge about that? I’ve asked for help before.”

“You’ve asked ME for help before. Never someone else. That’s not you, Tyler. You’d rather wear yourself thin or completely burn yourself out than rely on other people.”

“It’s one of my issues,” he admits. “For many reasons. But you know how I always say there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you?”

Esme nods.

“That includes swallowing my pride and asking for help.”

“You doing THAT? THAT’S love right there. And probably some lust, too.”

“There’s a little bit of that in there too,” he teases, and then places a soft, lingering kiss on her lips. Their eyes closing when the tip of his nose comes to rest against her forehead; hand slipping from her cheek and finding the back of her neck, fingers gently and deftly massaging the tense muscles.

For several minutes neither of them speak; basking in the silence and the warmth that radiates from one another's bodies; his slow, even breaths ruffling her hair, hers tickling his bare neck. These moments are rare; the chaos of raising seven children and their respective work schedules and responsibilities. Both are looking forward to her being home more. The opportunity to actually be alone; walks on the beach or time in the water, hikes in the woods or strolls through town. And the road trips. Needing nothing more than gas in the tank and money in their pockets.

*****

“Feeling any better?” Tyler asks, and slips his hand up into her hair; fingertips gently kneading the scalp.

“A little. Have a headache though. Not sure if it’s PMS or my moods or my meltdown earlier. But it’s a bitch. A mean, old bitch.”

He pulls away. Hand moving to the top of her head and fingers pressing on her well known problem areas; along the tops of both brows, the inside corners of her eyes, the bridge of her nose. Attempting to alleviate at least some of the pain and pressure. “Good?” he asks, when she reaches up to push her fingers through his; drawing their joined hands down to her lips and pressing a kiss to the side of his wrist.

She nods, a smile curving her lips. “Good. You and your magic fingers. They certainly know their stuff. In many ways.”

“They have a talent all of their own.”

“They certainly do. MANY talents, actually. Are YOU feeling better?”

“Not bad. My body feels pretty good. Thought maybe I’d be in agony after my run, but…”

“You pushed yourself, didn’t you. HARD. Harder than you’re supposed to.”

“Come on now. Would I actually do something like that? Not listen to the doctor’s orders?”

“You most certainly would. And you definitely have. Be careful, Tyler. Don’t push the limits too much, okay? I realize you know your own body, but you don’t always listen to it. I don’t want you hurting yourself. Screwing something up and needing surgery. AGAIN.”

“I won’t go too hard,” he promises, and pecks her lips. “But right now? I’m taking care of YOU. Not the other way around. You’ve spent a lot of time looking after me. Worrying about me. Probably too much.”

“It’s not like it’s a job or something like that. You’re my husband. I love you. That’s why I do it.”

“And I love you. Which is why I need to step up and take care of you. Don’t be so stubborn, Me. Let me look after you. We’re a team, yeah? We’re supposed to be in this together? Let me pick up some of the slack.”

“It’s a bad habit of mine. Doing everything myself. I mean, in high school I was the one that got saddled with all the work during group projects. My classmates would fuck around and I’d be stuck having to do it all by my lonesome.”

“Well you don’t have to do this by your lonesome. It’s a two way street, right? You and me against the world?”

Nodding, she presses a kiss to his chin, then his lips. “You’re a good husband. I think I’ll keep you.”

“Good. Because I think I’ll stick around. I kinda like it here.”

Smiling, she lays a hand on the side of his face. Her fingers press through his beard; nails lightly scraping along his jaw. “Do you think we could talk?”

“Isn’t that what we’re doing? You already said no naked time, so…”

“I mean a serious talk. Piggybacking off what happened this morning. More specifically, what happened with ME this morning. And WHY it happened.”

“I thought we already talked about it. When you got back. Didn’t realize there was anything more to say. You’re going through some shit. Depression. Probably PTSD. You got a lot of stress. And probably most of that can be blamed on me.”

“I’m not blaming anything on you. I never have. I never will. My brain was screwed up way before you ever came along.”

“I’m sure I made it worse. I’ve put you through a lot of crap. Twelve and a half years of it.”

“We are not doing this. YOU are not doing this. That’s all water under the bridge, Tyler. Things we went through and dealt with. It’s behind us. Can we leave it there? Can YOU? Because it’s not doing you any good; holding onto so much guilt and regret. I don’t want you doing that. That’s the last thing I want, actually.”

“It’s kind of hard NOT to do it. To think back on it all and not see how badly i’ve fucked up.”

“It was all beyond your control. Things went bad. That’s all there is to really say about it. Things went to shit and you reacted badly to them and you made some pretty crappy judgement calls. But we got past all of that. I don’t hold grudges against you. I don’t hate you. Or blame you for anything. It’s time you stop blaming yourself, okay?”

“You know me. I’m willing to try anything once. Except for maybe eating ass. That’s a little too far out of my comfort zone.”

“Well lucky for you, it’s WAY out of mine. But can we? Have a serious talk? Without it turning into a fight? I don’t want to fight with you. We’ve come a long way since those days; everything turning into a big blow out.”

“I don’t want to fight with you, either. But if it’s something THAT serious…”

“I mean, it’s serious but not THAT serious. It’s not life or death or anything. It’s just...I don’t know…” her fingers nervously fidget with the chain around his neck. “...it’s a pretty big deal.”

“Is it about us? Are we having problems I’m not aware of? Is there someone else?”

“No! Oh my god, no. Nothing like that. Other than dealing with our own mental stuff, we are fine. We are MORE than fine. And there isn’t anyone else. There never has been. And there never will be. You’re it for me. For the rest of my life. There’s no one else I want. I could EVER want.”

Smiling, he presses a kiss to her lips.

“It’s to do with me. What’s going on in my head. What HAS been going on in there. And I need you to promise that you won’t freak out. That you won’t hear the worst of it and shut down and lose your temper and…”

He frowns. “Esme…”

“Tyler, I love you. More than you could ever possibly know. And right now, I need you to promise me that you won’t lose it. That you’ll just listen and let everything sink in. Not just hear a bit and react. Can you do that? Promise me?”

He nods. “I won’t lose my shit. Promise. What’s going on? Are you okay? Are you sick? Is there something wrong and you’ve been holding out on me?”

“I’m not sick,” she assures him. “Not physically anyway. It’s all to do with my brain. I’ve struggled for years. Long before I ever met you. And I’ve had some down moments; since we’ve been together. Especially after each of our babies. When postpartum was a real bitch to me. So it’s not like you don’t know what I deal with. In my head.”

“I’ve known for years. You told me pretty much right from the start. A couple days into Dhaka. About having depression. Being diagnosed after your dad died. And I’m pretty sure you’ve got PTSD too. After everything that went on in Bangladesh, ESPECIALLY on that bridge? You can’t say it would be a surprise. If you were diagnosed with it.”

“The furthest thing from a surprise. Now you promise? Not to freak out?”

“I already did. Can we get to it already? Because you stall any longer and my anxiety is going to go off the charts.”

Sighing, she curls a finger around his necklace and gently yanks him into a kiss. Lips lingering on his before finally pulling away. “I lied to you. About a year ago,”

“About…?”

“Do you remember when you were in Brazil? For a couple weeks? The whole drug cartel thing?”

He nods. “What about it?”

“Remember how when you came back, I mentioned a girls weekend. In Cairns. With Riley and Shaena. And how I was worried you’d be pissed because I wanted to go on it? Because you’d been gone for two weeks and me leaving meant we’d only have a couple days together?”

“Yeah, and I was fine with it. You needed a break. I didn’t have a problem with you going. What…?”

“There was never a girls weekend,” Esme admits, and his frown intensifies; deep furrows inhabiting his brow. “We made it up. So you wouldn’t know what was really going on.”

“Babe...what…?”

“I was in the hospital. For three days. And not just any hospital. A psychiatric one.”

“A psychiatric hospital? Why? What…?”

“When you were gone, I had a really bad time. I mean, I always do when you leave. I don’t sleep, I worry constantly, I stress over everything and even little stuff gets on my nerves and drags me down. But this was worse. WAY worse. And even though I knew you were okay and that you were coming home, I still had all that dread, you know? All that worry. Constantly wondering if maybe I’d never see you again. That maybe the last time you walked out the door really WAS the last time.”

“That was an easy job. I wasn’t even out in the field. I was strictly behind the scenes. I never even left the hotel. Not until I had to go get everyone out. I told you I’d stay behind and I did.”

“I know. But I still freaked out. I was still worried. I always worry about you, you know that. And one night it was really bad. I felt like I was losing it. I hadn’t heard from you that day and you didn’t return any of my voicemails or texts and…”

“We had problems with coms. I told you that. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to you. There were legit issues.”

“And I tried telling myself that. That there were issues. But it didn’t help. And I lost it. Badly. I’m pretty sure it was actually a mental breakdown. And I called Riley because I was freaking out and I couldn’t get control of myself. I thought I was going crazy. And I told her that I felt like I was going to hurt myself.”

He blinks at her confession. “What?”

“I don’t think I actually would have done it. I think I was just feeling desperate at that moment. I don’t think…”

“You wanted to kill yourself? You wanted to die?”

“I guess. I don’t know. I was looking for a way out. An escape. And my brain wasn’t exactly in a good place and that’s where it went. Like I said, I don’t think I would have actually done anything. But I called Riley and she came over and stayed with me and the kids. Just in case.”

“What if she hadn’t been around? What if she couldn’t have come over? What if she still lived in Colorado? Would you have done it? Hurt yourself?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t THINK so? Esme…”

“I wasn’t exactly thinking right. I was in a really bad way, Tyler. REALLY bad. And I needed help. So I called her.”

“Why didn’t you call ME?”

“What would you have been able to do? You were in Brazil.”

“I would have come home. Right away. I would have dropped everything and had someone else be in charge. Do you really think I wouldn’t have? Come home? There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Why didn’t you call me?”

“You were so far away,” she attempts to reason. “And I needed help right away.”

“I would have talked you down. I would have gotten you through it. Why wouldn’t you get a hold of me? I’m your husband.”

“I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was just thinking in the moment. And getting ahold of you in Brazil wasn’t the first thing that came to my mind. It wasn’t personal. You should know that. That you’re the one person that’s always been able to help me. But you were thousands of miles away and you were busy and I didn’t want to put something else on you. Burden you.”

“Burden me? You’re my wife. You could never burden me. What the fuck, Esme? Why didn’t you at least tell me I got home? Why lie to me? Why make up this whole fucking story about a girls trip? Why…?”

“I didn’t want to put that on you. Especially when you had to stay with the kids. They needed you to be focused and all about them. And you wouldn’t have been able to do that if I told you. I didn’t want you to worry.”

“You didn’t want me to worry? You’re my WIFE.”

“I was trying to protect you. I’m always trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need you to protect me,” Tyler argues. “I’m not a fucking child, Esme. I’m a grown ass man. I don’t need you coddling me and babying me and protecting me. I would have stepped up and took care of you. That should have been on me. Not your sister. Not Shaena. Not anyone else. Me.”

“I needed you to take care of the kids. You’d been gone for two weeks and they missed you and I didn’t want them to be without BOTH parents. It’s not personal. I didn’t make the decisions I did to hurt you. I made them to help you. To help our family.”

“How much help would it have been if I’d come home and you were dead on the floor? How much help would it have been if one of our kids had found you? Do you know how bad that would have fucked them up? Losing their mother like that? Do you know how bad it would have fucked ME up?”

“I wasn’t thinking of those things. I wasn’t thinking about anything. That’s the problem. All I wanted was an escape. That’s it.”

“An escape from what? Your shitty life with your shitty husband?”

“No!” She clasps his face in her hands. “I love my life. And my husband. You know what depression is like. It doesn’t care where you live or what you have or how many people love you. It’s all in your head. It’s a fucking monster you can’t escape from. You know EXACTLY what it’s like. I never meant…” her voice cracks with emotion. “...I never meant to hurt you. I would NEVER hurt you. I thought I was protecting you. And I know you say you don’t need me to. And maybe you don’t. But I do it because I love you. Because I want to make things easier on you. That’s all. It’s not to hurt you, Tyler.”

“You can’t try and convince me I’m not broken when you treat me like I am.”

She frantically grabs at the chain around his neck with one hand, his shoulder with the other. “That’s not what I was doing. You AREN’T broken. I don’t treat you like you are.”

“You are when you do shit like that. When you lie to me. Especially about something like this.”

“I’ve never lied to you. About anything. I’ve always been honest. About my childhood, about what Mark put me through, about…”

“What about the guy?”

“What guy? What…?”

“The one you went out with. When we were separated. Took you years to tell me about him.”

She frowns. “There was nothing to tell you. He was just some single dad I met at daycare pick up. That’s it. It was nothing important. Just some guy.”

“That you went out with. While we were still married.”

“Have you been just waiting to throw that in my face? Have you been holding onto that all this time? Just looking for the opportunity to hold that over my head? Why would you…?”

“I was faithful to you. Whether we were going to work shit or not. I wasn’t looking for someone else. I didn’t want another woman. And I could have had one. I could have had tons of them. It wasn’t for lack of opportunity, believe me.”

“Then why didn’t you do it? If you had so many chances. Why didn’t you take any of them?”

“Because I wanted my wife. I didn’t want anyone else. You, Just you.”

“And I wanted you! But you were a fucking mess and I was hurt because you weren’t fighting for me. For your family. So yeah, I went out on a date. Because someone showed interest in me and made me feel special and beautiful and wanted. Because I was hurt and I wanted you to hurt just as much as I was. I was so pissed at you. For not getting your shit together and coming home and fighting for us. So I went out on a date. And I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the attention."

“Did you fuck him?”

“No. I told you what happened. I told you he tried and I turned him down. I told him that I couldn’t do it because I was still in love with my husband. That I was still hoping we could work things out. That’s the truth. And that’s how I got that black eye. Because he didn’t handle the rejection so well. That’s the truth. All of it. I never slept with him. I’ve ever been with anyone but you. For the last twelve and a half years. Just you.”

He nods slowly, letting her words sink in.

“Tyler…” her nails dig into the back of his neck. “...don’t do this...don’t shut me out. Please don’t do that. I don’t want you to do that.”

“What do you want me to say? What…?”

“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to lie to you. I…” tears flow freely down her face. “...I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry.”

“Come here,” he gently orders, and pushing a hand through her hair, settles it on her back and pulls her into him. “It’s okay, Me. Everything’s okay.”

“I didn’t mean to lie to you. Not about the guy and not about the girls weekend. I was just trying to protect you. I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know you weren’t.” Pressing a kiss to her temple, he rolls over onto his back; both arms wrapping around her and pulling her with him. “And I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have brought that shit up. I haven’t been holding onto it. Or waiting to use it again. I reacted. Badly. And when I do, nothing is off limits. I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t mean to say that shit.”

“It’s okay,” she sniffles, and curls her arms around his neck. “I know how you get. When you hear things you don’t like. But for the record? This is what I meant when I made you promise not to lose it.”

“I am so fucking sorry. I’m an asshole. A huge asshole.”

“No. You’re not. You just have no chill sometimes. I’m used to it. Or fairly used to it, anyway.”

“I never should have said what I did. About the guy you went out with. You had every right to. Go on a date. I wasn’t exactly stepping up. I just lost it. Hearing about you wanting to hurt herself and how you spent time in psychiatric hospital. Kinda kicked me in the nuts, ya know?”

“I was going to tell you,” she says, chin resting on his chest as she looks up at him. “When I got home. But I was feeling so much better and you and the kids were so happy to see me. I didn’t want to ruin that. And then we got on with life and there never seemed to be a good time. So I kept it to myself. It wasn’t to intentionally hurt you., I’d NEVER do that.”

He presses a kiss to her forehead. “I know you wouldn’t.”

“And I don’t mean to treat you like you’re broken. Because you’re not. A little bent, maybe…”

He manages a laugh. “I’ve been put through the ringer a few times. Got a little too many miles on me. Quite the collection of dents and scars going on.”

“They’re beautiful. Every single one of them.” Wriggling further up the bed, she pushes a hand through his hair; tightly gripping the longer locks as she pecks the corner of his mouth. “I’m sorry, Tyler. That I lied to you. I had good intentions. I really did.”

“You always do.” He curls an arm around her neck and kisses her. Long and soft and sweet; tasting the salty tears that linger across her top lip. “It’s okay, Me. Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry.” He tangles his fingers in her hair, gently pushing her head back down onto his chest. “ Has it happened again? Feeling the way you did? Have you wanted to hurt yourself? Or worse?”

“No. I haven’t felt that way since. I’ve been depressed, but not like that.”

“And you’d tell me? If you did feel that way?”

She nods.

Sighing heavily, he places a forearm over his eyes. Lying in silence and feeling her body tremble against his; knuckles repeatedly ghosting along her spine as he attempts to get a grasp on the situation. Her mental health issues have never been a secret; she’s been on medication for years and has occasionally needed it to be tweaked. But to hear that she’d been THAT low? Considering hurting herself? Or even attempting something more permanent? It’s devastating. Feeding right into his worst fear. The thought of losing her to an event totally beyond his control. A wedge of emotion settles in his throat and tears prick his eyes; the realization of how close he’d come to losing. But he fights it off. Needing to stay strong for her. Always willing, ready, and able to put his own problems aside. Her rock and her protector.

“Tyler?” Her voice is impossibly tiny. Apprehensive. Scared.

“Yeah, babe?”

“I love you. So much. You’ll never know how much.”

Smiling, he slides his palm to the back of her neck and drops a kiss on the top of her head. “I love you too.”

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction fan fiction #Chris Hemsworth #Chris Hemsworth Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake x OFC #Tyler Rake fan fic #Extraction fan fic #Tyler and Esme series

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supernaturallyobsessedchic · 4 years ago

Text

Emergency! Part 5

Part 5 – Rattlesnake

Summary: A rollover crash has multiple squads responding to rescue, clean up and investigate the cause. During clean up Dean is bitten by a rattlesnake. An earthquake strikes, being the largest L.A has ever experienced since the 90’s. And the reader, was out shopping when it happened, trapping her under debris. Jack’s father is at Rampart for an operation, staff, and squad 51 learn of how toxic of a Father Lucifer is.

Warnings: Scary Situations, Suspense, implied Smut, Fluff, Brief toxic parent angst, long one full of suspense and action!

Word Count: 4,233

Square: Girls Night (There is a girls night in here, and I’m using it to fill my square for @supernatural-jackles Tell me a story bingo)

Bingo Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Mobile Masterlist

a/n: this takes place a year or so after Virus. This story is going to be a long one.

“Would it be a miracle that people were actually careful and safe?” Gabe says, walking into the stations kitchen.

“One could only dream.” Cas says.

“Who’s turn is it for making lunch?”

“It’s either the father or the son.” Michael says.

“It’s my turn for lunch nimrod.” Dean says, playfully getting Gabe in playful chock hold while rubbing his knocks on his head.

Gabe struggles to get out of the Winchester’s grip.

Dean let go with little protest.

“He’s the one that did the father and son crack.” Gabe whined.

“Yeah but Dean knows not to mess with me.”

“You are just as bad as Sam with the pranks.”

“How is little bro by the way?” Gabe asks.

“He’s good, won his first case at a firm downtown. Can’t remember the name of it. And he and Jess are actually getting married by the end of this year.”

“Oh it’s about time that kid popped the question.” Michael says.

“Yeah, he and Jess are coming down for Thanksgiving, they’ll meet Y/N…”

“Have you ever met Y/N’s family yet?”

“She doesn’t talk about her family much. I don’t push her if she’s not comfortable with it.”

The stations alarm goes off.

“Station 51, rollover accident…” The dispatcher giving the location as the station jumped into action.

They got to the location, on the winding dirt road in the mountains outside of LA. Seeing the car that rolled over the guard rail and down the slope.

“What do we got?” John asked the other station that responded.

The captain wearing a big white 20 on his helmet.

“Rollover, driver’s unconscious and we don’t know his condition.”

“I’ll send my paramedics on it.”

Dean and Cas getting their supplies and rushing to the car.

They recorded his vitals on their notepads.

“Cas go relay it to Rampart, I’ll stay here with him.”

“Got it.”

“Rampart squad 51. Rampart this is squad five one.”

Bobby happened to be by the radio.

“Go ahead 51.”

“Rampart, we have a rollover accident, the victim is trapped in the car. Vitals are, BP 120 over 79, pulse rate 78. Pupils dilated and sluggish.”

“Can you get the victim out without using the jaws?”

“Negative Rampart, driver side door is jammed.”

“Then start an IV, just have some normal saline to keep him hydrated. Can’t risk a head injury going unnoticed. Follow protocol, and we’ll be waiting for you.”

“10-4 Rampart.”

A little over a half hour passed and they managed to get the victim out of the car and in an ambulance and is on the way to the hospital.

Cas and Dean were packing up the squad.

“Shit, forgot the drug box by the car, I’ll be right back.” Dean says.

“’kay.”

Dean jogged down the hill to the car to pick up the drug box when he heard a rattle.

His heart sank.

Where was it?

It wasn’t until he saw the danger noodle jump at the moment he picked up the drug box, biting down on his arm. Then latching on.

Dean managed to calmly grab the snake by the head, forcing it’s mouth open. Getting it to release him and he threw the snake far.

He grabbed his radio.

“Station 51, it’s Dean. I just got bit by a rattlesnake.”

He quickly worked his belt off his waist to make himself a tourniquet.

“Gabe, Kevin, get down there now!” John ordered.

They hurried down the hill to Dean’s aid.

Earlier that day…

“Alright that’s the last of them.” Y/N says to herself as she got all settled in Dean’s house.

They had just recently took things to the next level and she has moved in with him. She was off work taking the time to finish settling in. But Dean’s 24 hour shift just started, so Dean was away at work, saving people.

“Now, a girls night…er, day.” She says, knowing who to call to hang out with for the day.

She pulls out her phone, calling up a few girls she knows and knows they’re off.

“Hey Donna, you up for a girls night?”

“Oh hell ya girlfriend, who’s all gonna be there?”

“Well, you, me, Rowena the overnight RN, Jody. I want to invite Charlie, a friend of Dean’s but I think she’s working.”

“Girl, I can’t wait! You want me to meet you at your place or Dean’s?”

“I just finished moving in with Dean, I’m at Dean’s. You can meet me at Dean’s.” She explained.

“Oh, ho-ho-ho, girl, we need to catch up!”

The girl was full of energy and Y/N could feel it through the phone.

“Yes we do, see you here in a few, and I’ll call the others.” She says, hanging up.

The doorbell rang hours later calling the girls. She opens the door.

“Hi!” Donna cheers, holding two cases of beer.

“You know how to party, Charlie’s off today she’s on her way with some wine as well.” Y/N says letting her in. Closing the door behind her.

“Oh, I like her already.”

“Jody got caught up with a Drunk Driver and won’t make it. But Rowena is coming so it’s just us four.”

“Still a good girls night, so what else are we doing tonight?”

“Probably catch up a bit, binge some Netflix shows. The Witcher season 2 is coming out soon and I want to rewatch that.”

“Oh, Geralt can hunt me down any day.”

“You do realize the man is hundreds of years old?”

“Yeah, but Henry Cavil isn’t.” she winks.

Y/N rolls her eyes with a giggle.

The doorbell rang shortly after revealing Rowena. And moments later, Charlie.

“You two are so going to get married.” Donna says, downing her second bottle of beer.

“He really is, really sweet, kind and the perfect kind of guy for me. He knows my schedule. And I know his. We both were scared the hours of our work would mess things up. But with how many times the man gets hurt on the job while I’m working I am always assuming he’s purposely getting hurt just so he can see me at work.”

Charlie giggling. “I see that being a thing he does.”

Rowena sipping away at the red wine Charlie brought.

“Ro, how are things with you girl?” Y/N asked.

“Oh, you know. Saving people, taking names…”

“She’s in love.” Donna deadpans.

Rowena rolls her eyes with a smirk.

Y/N gasps. “What’s his name?”

“His name is Arthur Ketch, he the neurologist up on Fourth Floor. He works under Singer.”

“Oh I know of him, I mean, Bobby is planning on retiring and isn’t Ketch supposed to take his place?”

Rowena nods with a hum. Still having a playful smirk on her face.

“Oh you are so in love with him.” Y/N says with a smile.

“He may have taken me out on a date a few days ago and we have another date tomorrow night.”

“Ro, I’m so happy for you!”

“Thank you sweetie, and I’m happy for you and Dean, don’t let that one go darling.”

“I don’t see that happening, just as long he stays safe on a job. I’m worried of him getting seriously hurt on the job. I mean that virus a year ago, that really scared me. I thought I was gonna lose him.”

The girls nod, understanding.

“Anyone up for some hot guys and monsters!” Donna says, entering the room with a glass generously full of red wine.

“Girl, you’re gonna regret the headache the next day.”

“I’m off work tomorrow, so if I get a migraine I’m good!” she says chuckling.

The girls rolling their eyes at their friend.

“Rowena, would you be able to drive her home?”

“Yes, she’s at least on the way home for me.”

“Thank you, last thing I want is to give poor Jody another drunk to worry about.”

“At least I’m the fun kind of drunk.” Donna says, getting the Witcher on Y/N’s TV screen.

“Ro, drive safe!”

“Will do sweetie, have a good rest of your night!” Rowena says, escorting a silly drunk Donna to her car.

“I’ll drive her car home tomorrow.” Y/N offers.

“Will do darling, goodnight!”

“Night!”

“Y/N that was the most fun I’ve had, never thought of you to be the nerdy type.”

“Oh, I’m a nerd in disguise if anything.” Y/N winks.

“Ugh, why are you straight!”

“Not sure.”

Y/N’s pocket happens to vibrate at that moment.

“Hello?”

“Y/N?” Hearing Dr. Kline’s voice on the other end.

“What’s up Jack?”

“It’s Dean, he’s been bit by a rattlesnake, he’s on his way in on the top of Engine 51.”

“I’m on my way.” Y/N says, not hesitating grabbing her keys to her car. Hanging up the phone quickly from him.

“I’m going with you sweetie.” Charlie says, following y/n to her car.

Turning the keys she turns on her emergency flashers and speeds her way to Rampart hospital.

“Engine 51, what are the patients vitals?” Jack asks.

Dean, takes his own pulse, his own blood pressure. All while Cas drove the squad ahead of the engine.

“Pulse rate, 95. O2 Sat, 98, Respiration 18, BP 120 over 65.”

“Dispatch relay to Engine 51 to start IV using Ringers Lactate.” Jack asks.

“Engine 51, Rampart advises start IV using Ringers Lactate.”

“10-4” Gabe says over the radio.

Dean having heard the radio begins the process to start an IV.

“There goes Engine 51!” Charlie shouts, while Y/N sat at the red light. Seeing the engine tear through the intersection.

Her light happened to turn green for her.

“Hold on.” Y/N says. As she starts pressing on the gas pedal slowly pushing it to the floor. Her tires squealing.

Gabe looked up hearing tires. Looking over the edge, he sees a familiar car.

“Oh shit, his girl is right behind us.” He says.

Dean chuckled. “And I’m the worry wort.”

“Engine 51, Rampart is requesting an update.”

“Relay to Rampart, patient is starting to experience numbness around the mouth, and he’s drowsy.” Dean says on the radio.

“Engine 51 you’re breaking up, please repeat.”

John grabbed the radio.

“Relay to Rampart, Patient is started to experience numbness around the mouth and he’s drowsy.”

“Roger that.” Dispatch says.

“Venom sounded like it hit a vein.” Jack says.

“Y/N’s gonna be so worried.” Meg says. Standing next to Bobby and Jack at the nurses station.

The squad, the engine pulled into the emergency entrance. Y/N pulled into the parking lot near the emergency entrance, finding a spot quickly. She quickly parked it, turned off the car. Jumping out, locking the car. Charlie staying close to her.

Meg stayed by the door, waiting for Y/N and Charlie.

“How’s he doing so far?” Y/N asked.

“We started a skin test with the antivenom. Hopefully he doesn’t have a reaction, that way we can start treatment right away.” Jack says.

“How long do we have to wait?” Y/N asked.

“20 Minutes.”

Y/N and the rest of the members of station 51 nodded, understanding.

“Let’s go wait guys.” Charlie suggested.

Everyone left the room, trying to keep their hopes high despite their shoulders slumped.

As the night came to a close, and he didn’t have a reaction to the antivenom skin test and he has been laying, sound asleep in his room as the antivenom worked it’s magic on him.

Y/N laid in his bed with him, curled into his side. Her head on his chest, listening to the calming rhythm of Dean’s heartbeat.

Dean began to stir awake, feeling a warmth at his side. Waking up a bit more he sees his favorite girl in his life laying at his side.

His arm came up around her, holding her close. Placing a loving sweet kiss atop her head as he fell back asleep, letting the rest and medicine work it’s magic on him.

The next day…

Y/N arrived on time to the hospital to pick up Dean, filling out his discharge papers another patient was being brought in.

“Who’s that?” Dean asks.

“Jack’s dad, he never talks about him.”

“Why is that?”

Jack happened behind them.

“I was adopted, he gave me up when I was, like 5.”

“Jackie, son how are you?” the man asks from the bed.

“You don’t call me son.”

“Since when can a father—”

“You may be my father by blood. But not a true father.”

“What did you expect me to hold your hand? Kiss your booboo’s when you got hurt like some sort of pansy?”

“Oh now I see why.” Dean mutters in Y/N’s ear.

“How long is he gonna be here anyway?” Jack asks the medics that brought him in.

“His cardiologist what’s him to have a pacemaker in today. So he’s gonna be here for a bit.”

Jack groans under his breath.

“I’ll hand him over to someone else?”

“Why do you suck ass?” His father asks.

“Okay, listen here dude.” Y/N steps in.

“Y/N, please—” Jack says.

“No, you can either treat the staff of Rampart emergency with respect or we can and will kick you out for your hostility.” She says.

He shrunk in his bed.

“Will you be on your best behavior or will I have to send you to a different hospital?” she asks.

“I’ll be on my best behavior.”

“Good. And if I hear your antagonizing him, or any more of our staff we will transfer you. And you won’t be welcome here again.”

“Understood.”

“Good.” She says, storming out of the hospital.

“Don’t piss her off, can anyone remind of that?” Dean asks jokingly as he follows her out.

Later on that day…

“Dean, babe, I’m gonna go do some arrands really quick.”

“Alright be safe sweetheart.”

She goes to the living room, where he sat watching Netflix, giving him a quick kiss on his lips. But Dean quickly places a hand on her cheek deepening the kiss. Clearly wanting more.

“Babe, maybe tonight. But I need to head out to stay ahead of traffic.”

“Fine, drive safe baby.”

“Always do!”

“Says the crazy girlfriend chasing a fire engine!”

“I’m not that crazy!” She laughed.

Dean chuckled as he heard her laugh, closing the door behind her.

She pushed her cart around Target getting not only food, but some cute lingerie for that night. Even grabbing Dean something from Spencer’s for them to try in bed later.

She felt the ground tremble slightly. The hairs on her arms stood up on end.

“No not now.” She mutters.

Without warning, the ground shook violently, taking her and other shoppers to the floor. The power going out, items being thrown on the floor. The lights swinging wildly, ceiling tiles falling. They were having a bad earthquake. And she was smacked in the middle of LA, in a multilevel mall.

Meanwhile Dean back at home had just turned off the oven having cooked himself some pizza for lunch after noticing Y/N having ate already.

He heart he windows vibrate, feeling the ground tremble slightly. He stood in the kitchen still yet alert.

When the ground gave way again to another violent shake, but only enough to cause their dishes to fall off the countertop, the cupboard doors swinging open and closed. The TV rocking back and forth on the stand. Dean dived to the table to get under it, and wait it out.

Meanwhile back at Target, screaming shoppers can be heard throughout more than just Target.

Once the shaking had calmed down, she knew they had to get out immediately.

She quickly pulled out her phone. Seeing the alert had gone off.

An 7.5 earthquake.

“How big was that?” someone asks.

“I don’t know but that was big!” someone else shouts.

“My phone says 7.5, it was big enough.” Y/N shouts.

“Oh god, we’re dead!”

“Okay, Okay, don’t panic, we just have to get out of here before the aftershocks kick in.” Y/N suggests.

“Where can we go, we’re on the top floor!”

“At one part of the mall this is the ground floor, we just have to find another one of the exits. Avoid the escalators, we have to get out before the floor collapses on us.” She explains.

“I’m with her.”

“Oh my god! Someone help me!”

Bring on the victims. She thought.

“I’m a nurse, what’s wrong!” Y/N shouts.

“It’s my husband, he’s bleeding!”

She ran to the panicked woman.

“Where at?” she asks.

“His leg, a shard of glass from the wine cut him.”

She examines his leg.

“Do you have a belt sir?”

He nods.

“Let’s get it off of you and make a tourniquet.” She says.

Y/N helps him get his belt off and works on tying it above the cut on his leg. Not too tight but tight enough.

“Okay, do you got him?” she asks the man’s wife.

“Yes, but where---”

“I came in from the ground level entrance, it’s a ways north, we just go this way.” She pointed out.

“You make it sound so easy, how are you so calm?”

“I’m an emergency nurse at Rampart.”

“You’re so amazing, thank you, thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome, now lets get out of here.”

“Alright everyone, you can follow me, the ground level entrance is this way.” Y/N shouts.

And she began leading the herd.

“Do you hear that?” Someone asked in the Food quart.

“Oh shit, they didn’t turn off the gas.” Y/N muttered.

“GET AWAY FROM THE FOOD QUART!” She shouts.

Just as the people ran in a panic out of the doors near the food quart leading to one of the parking lots out on the ground level, an explosion of fire broke out in a couple of the restaurants in the food quart.

“We’re dead!” a number of people shouted.

“We’ll get out of this, just stay calm and follow me!” Y/N encouraged. As she and everyone behind her, around her, all shielded themselves from the fire.

Dean, in his car sped his way to station 51.

“It’s all hands on deck, there’s fires everywhere.” John says as Dean entered the station.

“Y/N’s at the mall.”

“Which one?”

“The one off of Center Pointe.”

“Shit, that’s one of our calls. Get suited up, and lets go.”

As the alarm goes off in the station, Dean hurries to the squad, grabbing his fireman’s bottoms and coat.

“I got your boots and mine, lets go!” Cas says, getting in the passenger.

Dean not wasting anytime, turns on the squad and follows the engine out of the station, speeding towards the shopping center.

“Are we there yet?” a little girl asks.

“Almost there sweetheart, we just have to---”

“Wait!” someone pulls Y/N back.

Y/N grabbing the man’s arm noticing a drop.

“The floor caved in…shit, that’s what I was worried about.”

“Oh, now what!?”

She looked around, finding another way through the store down below.

“Look there’s an exit down there.”

“But it leads to the underground parking.”

“Still it’s a way out, just wait here then, there’s an incline here, I’ll just climb down and see how far the exit is from the underground parking.” Y/N says, determined to get these people out and out alive.

Sliding down the concrete ramp, she jogs through the store, climbing through a fissure in the wall, seeing the garage not perfect but from where she was there was a path closest to the building leading out to daylight.

She hurries back to the scared people.

“There’s a straightforward path outside from here, come on, if we hurry---”

The ground began to shake, throwing her off balance.

“Oh no it’s an aftershock!” someone shouted.

The engine managed to get to the shopping mall, seeing a fire in one section. Coming to a stop they can feel the aftershocks.

“Shit, we have to hurry, Dean, Cas, find a way in. Kevin, Michael, find us some water!” John ordered.

Dean taking the squad closer to the building, scoping out a way in.

“We could try there.” Cas suggested.

“It doesn’t look too structurally sound Cas.”

“It’s holding up so far.”

“True. Okay, but lets find a plan B.”

“And C.”

“And D.”

“I hear sirens!” Someone shouted.

“Come on, the opening is still here!” Y/N shouted.

“Go on baby, mommy and daddy are right behind you.” A pair of parent said to the small girl.

She slid down the concrete ramp, looking scared and timid but Y/N stood by close until her parents met up with her.

“Okay, keep it going, we’re almost out of here!” Y/N encouraged.

It seemed to be going smoothly, everyone was starting to rush down the ram and running outside, frantically.

“Dean look!” Cas shouted as Dean made a loop around the Mall.

“That’s a good sign, okay, let’s help them.” Dean says, bring the squad to a stop.

“Engine 51, this is squad 51, Cap, there’s an couple of entrances above ground that are stable, but we found one by the underground parking, a large number of survivors are coming out.”

“Copy that.” John says.

“Anyone hurt!” Cas asked as he got out.

A number of people saying their fine, scared. A select few coming forward with injuries of cuts.

“Good job miss on making that tourniquet.” Dean commented.

“Oh, I didn’t do that, a nice lady, a nurse from Rampart did it.”

Dean’s heart dropped. Y/N was in there.

“Did you see her?” Dean asked. Unable to hide the panic look in his face.

“We ran right past her, she led us out that way.”

“Atta girl, Cas you got them?” Dean asked.

“I got them, go.” Cas says as he attends to the couple.

Dean got to the opening and he could see a familiar figure in the dark dusty parking lot.

“Y/N!”

“Dean!” she shouts, turning to find him in the opening.

People still trinkling out. Dean helping them out the best he could.

“You hurt!”

“No, I’m fine, just help them!”

What started as a light tremble got slightly stronger, another aftershock.

“Oh fuck, Y/N hurry up!” Dean shouted.

Y/N hurried the people out. And just as she was making her way to Dean she heard a puppy barking. Stopping her dead in her tracks. She began to search for it.

A puppy scurried out from under a car with a limp, barking fearfully.

“It’s okay baby, I got you.” She says, hurrying to the scared puppy. Looking at it’s paw. Seeing a shard of glass in one of it’s paw pads.

“Poor thing, I got you.” She says.

She heard a crack in the concrete. All of a sudden the ceiling looking closer and feeling a lot closer. She fell on her rear, the ceiling seemed like it didn’t want to stop.

No. she prayed.

The after shock stopping just as soon as it started, the ceiling stopped.

“Y/N! Please say something!”

“I’m okay!” she shouts.

The concrete already sounding unstable, she hurries, crawling on all fours with the puppy in her hand, she even brings her feet into the crawling.

Like a domino effect, the ceiling begins to collapse.

A little girl stopped by one of the cars, scared, crying. Not stopping, she grabs the girl by the arm, and continues to crawl.

“Run guys, run!” Dean chants.

“Keep going sweetie, keep running!” Y/N tells the little girl.

The girl being the first out, dives into Dean’s arms.

“I gotchu sweetheart!” Dean tells her.

Y/N making a dive out, landing on her back with the pupping in her chest as the parking lot collapses behind her in a cloud of dust.

Y/N got up, still holding the puppy, trembling in her arms, licking her graciously on her neck. As if it was thanking her for saving her.

Dean stood by the squad, consoling the child, sees Y/N walking with a puppy in her arms. Panting from the adrenaline. Hurries to her, engulfs her in his arms.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine.”

“You go to Target and you come back with a puppy.” He smirks.

“I couldn’t resist, he was cute!” Y/N giggles.

“So far, everyone’s okay, in one piece, little girl’s back with her parents.” Dean informs her.

“That’s good.”

“Is it me or does danger just seem to find us?”

“Something.”

The next day…

“Come here Tremor!” Y/N coaxes.

The Basset Hound Puppy running over, his ears flopping in the wind. Making Y/N giggle.

“Good boy!”

“I’m home!” Dean shouts from the house.

“Go get daddy boy!” she encourages. The puppy making a mad dash for Dean. Only to trip on his ears in the run. Earning a laugh from Dean and Y/N.

“It’s okay buddy, I gotchya!” Dean says, meeting the puppy halfway, and picking him up.

The puppy showering Dean in licks.

“Been good for mommy.”

“Still working on potty training, he peed in the house, that’s why I opened it up.”

“Eh, it’s a learning progress for the little dude.”

“Yeah, so, how was work today?”

“Oh, same old. Rescued a cat from a tree, saved a heart attack victim. The usual.” Dean jokes.

Y/N giggling. Giving him a kiss on the lips. Only for him to deepen it, the puppy getting jealous and licking both of them.

“Okay, Tremor, we get it.” Dean goes.

“And I owe someone some sexy fun time tonight.” Y/N says playfully as she heads back inside.

“Yes you do.” Dean says. Following her at her heels.

A/N: How did you like it? I’m so glad my block is gone and I was able to cook this up. Let me know how you liked it! Feedback is always appreciated! :3

Dean Girls:

@pandazombie69, @luci-in-trenchcoats, @supernatural-jackles, @becs-bunker, @jayankles, @jeaniespiehs20, @mlovesstories, @winchesters-favorite-girl, @flamencodiva, @megzdoodle, @lyarr24, @akshi8278, @anotherspnfanfic

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 4/6/2021

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harvestleaves · 5 years ago

Text

Out of Breath

A/N: This was not requested, I just wanted to write whumpy Will with concerned Connor. And in this fic, we’re ignoring that Connor left because I wanted him to butt heads with Crockett!

Summary: Will is stressed out from work and Connor finds him in the beginning stages of an asthma attack.

Rating: T for Connor’s language towards Crockett

Word Count: 1,419

Will groaned as he reached up to rub the side of his head when another throb hit, squeezing his eyes shut at the tension headache that had been slowly building throughout his shift. He had been overstressed the last few days, and Connor had, on more than one occasion, tried to get him to take naps midway through his shifts, knowing that too much stress could cause his boyfriend’s asthma to act up. Will was really regretting brushing off Connor’s suggestion of a nap that day in particular as he brought his coffee up to his lips, hoping the caffeine would relieve the tight, uncomfortable feeling in his chest.

Clearing his throat with a cough, Will winced and turned to look at Connor when he felt a gentle hand on his lower back move to loop around his waist and pull him into a gentle hug.

“Will, you look awful. You should go lay down for a bit. I don’t have any surgeries, I can keep an eye on your patients for a while,” Connor whispered into Will’s ear as the other laid his head onto Connor’s shoulder and nuzzled his face against his boyfriend’s neck.

“I’m fine, though. Just lemme finish this coffee, and then I should be ready to get back to work,” Will mumbled softly, a small wheeze trailing his words as he picked his head up to look at Connor, humming at the fingers that ran through his hair.

“No can do babe. You’re going to lay in here and get a nap while I look over your patients. Have you taken your inhaler yet?” Connor asked, tilting Will’s chin up to get a better look at him, wincing at the ragged breaths that the other was taking.

“Y-yeah, I took it right before you came in. It didn’t really help though,” Will wheezed out with another cough as he pressed closer to Connor.

“Okay, just relax. Let's get you to a room, and I’ll set up a breathing treatment. I don’t like the sound of that wheeze of yours.”

Connor adjusted his hold on Will before leading him out into the ED to find the closest empty room, easing him up onto the gurney once he’d found one. Grabbing the nasal cannula, Connor slipped it onto Will’s face before he turned up the oxygen and hooked the other up to a pulse-ox, frowning when the monitor showed his boyfriend’s oxygen level was at 90.

“Your oxygen level is at 90, not awful, but obviously not where we want it to be. I’m going to go grab some nebulizer materials and have Maggie start-up a chart for you. I’ll be right back, okay, babe?” Connor cooed softly as he leaned down to press a kiss to Will’s forehead as he ducked out of the room, making his way to the central desk.

“Maggie? I’ve got a new patient in room 15 with an asthma attack, can you get a chart started up while I grab the neb supplies?”

“Of course. Where’s Will, shouldn’t he be taking care of the new ED patients?” Maggie asked as she looked up from the computer with a raised eyebrow, scanning Connor’s face for any signs of lying.

“Will is.....well, he’s actually the patient. I just want to keep this under wraps for right now, he doesn’t want to worry anyone,” Connor explained as he ran a hand over his face in exhaustion, his worry for Will having kept him up as well for the last few nights.

Maggie’s eyes widened in surprise at Connor’s words before her face softened, and she nodded. “I’ll start his chart and get his vitals. You go get the meds, then I’ll call for respiratory. Then I think you need to sit with Will, not as his doctor, but as his boyfriend, I can have Dr. Marcel take over as his doctor, you need to just sit there and be with him. Got it?”

Her voice made it clear that Connor was not supposed to argue with her, and he gave a small nod before going to the supply room. He gathered the nebulizer equipment as well as the albuterol before he headed back to Will’s room, noticing that Crockett had now joined Maggie and was listening to Will’s lungs with a frown.

“Hey, I’ve got the meds for his lungs. How’s he doing?” Connor asked as he handed the supplies to Crockett before moving to sit in the chair next to Will’s bed, reaching out to squeeze the hand that didn’t have an IV in it.

“His lungs are really tight, and apparently, your boy has been out of breath the last few days. That, plus whatever stress he’s been under, is a recipe for an asthma attack. Something he should’ve been aware of,” Crockett stated with a stern look to Will, the redhead blushing sheepishly, as he slid his stethoscope back around his neck. Setting up the nebulizer, Crockett handed Will the misting mouthpiece before he turned to Maggie. “Page respiratory, then I want to examine his chart, see if his long-term meds need to be adjusted. Thank you,” he smiled at Maggie as he took his gloves off before turning to Connor and nodding to the hallway.

“Hey, I’m gonna go talk to Dr. Marcel for a minute, I’ll be right back, okay hon?” Connor pressed a kiss to Will’s cheek before ducking into the hallway behind Crockett, raising an eyebrow at the other in confusion.

“So, how long has Will been feeling off? I heard it from him already, but I just wanna make sure this is because he’s stubborn and not because his boyfriend blatantly ignored the signs of an oncoming asthma attack,” Crockett stated with a firm glare as he turned to look over Connor, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Seriously? Are you fucking kidding me right now? You think that I would deliberately ignore the warning signs of an asthma attack? In my own boyfriend? This is bullshit,” Connor snapped, shocked that the other man would even think that he was capable of something like that.

“Hey, you’ve been stressed out too with cases, plus your father’s passing. I wouldn’t blame you if you missed something like this. We all get overwhelmed and sometimes it clouds our judgment. I’m just making sure this doesn’t happen again and that he won’t be on another neb in the middle of his shift due to stress. Excuse me for being worried about my patient,” Crockett frowned, holding his hands up defensively at Connor’s sudden anger.

“First things first, I would never ignore the symptoms that my boyfriend is feeling unwell. And with all due respect, you have absolutely no right to assume that I would do such a thing. You can treat Will, but stay the fuck out of our relationship when you know nothing about it,” Connor snapped as he took a step forward, taking a slow breath through his nose to calm the anger in his body.

“Okay cowboy, calm down, I didn’t mean to step on your toes. I understand that he means a lot to you, but I was just looking out for his wellbeing, I know you would do the same thing in my position. I’m sorry for implying that you don’t care about your boyfriend when you obviously do,” Crockett apologized as he reached out to set a comforting hand on Connor’s shoulder, hoping the action would soothe the other man.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry for lashing out, I’ve just been trying to get him to take a break the last few days. I guess when I saw him having the attack, I started to blame myself for not realizing sooner and when you accused me of it, I snapped,” Connor admitted, running a hand over his face as he finally let his guard down, blinking back a few tears as the worry for Will overtook him.

“Hey, your boy is going to be okay because you made quick work to get him treatment. Tell you what, you head back in there and spend some time with him, and I’ll be back with some coffee for you when I come ‘round to check on him again. Deal?” Crockett offered, reaching a hand up to wipe a stray tear from Connor’s cheek.

“Now, dry that pretty face of yours and head back in there. He needs you. And just so you know, I’m here too....if you ever need someone to talk to.”

Request

Masterlist

Read on AO3

#chicago med #rhodestead #will halstead #connor rhodes #crockett marcel #one chicago #chicago med fanfiction

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ibelieveinahappilyeverafter · 6 years ago

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Villainous Heroics - Chapter 18

Hey, everyone! Sorry for such the long wait between upload times; I was getting To Land On Your Feet, another Erasermic story of mine, up and off the ground, so go ahead and check that one out! It has four chapters up and a new chapter uploaded every Tuesday and Friday!

As for this story, we have two chapters to go after this one with the final being an epilogue of sorts, so we're almost done, guys! It's been a wild ride, but I'll save all my goodbyes for the final chapter! This story should be finished by the end of the week and, as a heads up, I'll be uploading the last two chapters and then later going back and doing one final edit/upload. What's this mean?

I'll be taking out all my various author's comments (not including the one at the first chapter), editing the chapters for plot holes, inconsistencies, grammar, and everything else. This is the week where all those typos who escaped finally lose their lives.

That's for later, though, and for now enjoy our two boys finally getting some time alone after everything that's been going on!

Enjoy!

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Summary: Eraserhead is an underground hero who is constantly busy and doesn’t have time to be dealing with new villains - even if they aren’t all that villainous and make the night interesting.

Present Mic is the latest up-and-coming villain in the world and he has a point to prove to everyone out there - as long as he doesn’t keep getting distracted by Eraserhead.

Aizawa Shota is someone who soon learns that there is more to someone than the mask they show to the world - especially when it comes to playing heroes and villains.

Yamada Hizashi learns that there is more to heroics and villainy than he could have ever thought - especially in a world where some heroes still care about those lost in the shadows.

(Inspired and dedicated to corndog-patrol’s Villain!Mic AU on Tumblr.)

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Chapter Eighteen

Hizashi didn’t have to open his eyes to know he was in a hospital. Even without his glasses or hearing aids it was all too easy to pick up the overly bright lights, the smell of bleach, antiseptic, and blood, and the feeling of an uncomfortable bed that was just on the side of too firm.

Considering he hadn’t been in a hospital since he was a teenager, it took him a few groggy seconds to try and figure out what he had done to end up there. Maybe the stove at his job had exploded and that meant he no longer had to deal with his villain of a boss. That would be worth the trip to the hospital.

Jeez, he hurt a lot worse than when his shoulder had been shot while doing his ‘hero’ work. His throat and neck, especially, hurt, which usually meant he had overused his quirk and…

Hizashi jerked up at realizing what must have happened, biting back a scream as he near tore his arm out of his socket, hazy vision focusing on where a silver pair of handcuffs - quirk suppressing handcuffs - was keeping him chained to the hospital bed by the arm that wasn’t hooked up to wires and medical equipment.

Right. Right, okay, Hizashi could think about this calmly. First, he didn’t see his glasses anywhere, but that could just be because he couldn’t really see to find them. The bright lights weren’t helping his headache, either, so Hizashi closed his eyes and tried to take a few deep breaths.

As it turned out, that was a very bad idea because his throat suddenly felt like it was on fire. It took everything he had to not fall into a coughing fit because that, he was certain, would just make things bad enough that he would start crying. Hizashi really didn’t want to start crying while in a hospital.

Getting control of himself, he noticed that his hearing aids were gone, too. Overall, he was unable to see, unable to hear, chained to a bed, and the pain from his throat felt like it was ready to tear him apart. Suffice to say, Hizashi mused, he must have had a very bad day.

It wasn’t until he was starting to calm himself down that Hizashi remembered what exactly had happened before he woke up in a hospital. The details were fuzzy, at that moment, but Hizashi remembered enough to know that all of Japan, and by extension the police, knew who he was and knew him as nothing more than a villain. How depressing.

At least he had survived the fight, he realized. There was also an almost forgotten memory of Aizawa coming to his rescue and, considering Hizashi was sure he hadn’t had brain damage at the time, that probably meant it was true. Good. That meant the kids must have been safe and those villains dealt with.

Attempting to crack his eyes open again, Hizashi took a glance around the room he was in. There were no windows, the door was firmly shut, the lights were annoyingly on, and his was the only bed in the room. A private room, then, without any windows. No doubt it was because his status as ‘villain.’

He couldn’t make heads or tails of what he was hooked up to or what it was showing about him, but he noticed he at least had a heart monitor and an IV drip of something. Hopefully it was pain medication because Hizashi felt like his body had been used as a chew toy by something really big with really sharp teeth.

Getting the urge to close his eyes again, Hizashi paused and squinted as he saw a blurry outline of a black rectangle. Careful of everything he was hooked up to, Hizashi carefully poked at the outline and felt smooth glass. It was a phone, he guessed, and, judging by the cracked screen, it was his phone.

Hizashi snatched it up in an instant, wincing at the extra light on his already battered eyes. He could at least squint enough to find out the time and date, nodding to himself as he saw it was three in the afternoon. That wasn’t too bad, but it was the date that showed tomorrow’s date that had him almost falling into another panic attack. Had he really been unconscious for over twenty-four hours?

He couldn’t even call it sleeping when he still felt so exhausted! Fuck, he was supposed to have been at work and he hadn’t even been able to call in. Wondering if he could still fix it, Hizashi squinted and worked his phone one-handed, wincing at the pressure it put on the IV needle. It wasn’t like he could use his other hand, though, seeing as he was handcuffed.

Right, okay, messages from his boss; ugh, multiple messages. That was never a good sign. A quick scan through showed that, if nothing else, he would have a lot of free time in the future. Being fired over the phone was a new low, though, even for that slimy little bastard- Oh. Right. His identity had been broadcasted over national television, hadn’t it?

Hizashi took a steady breath through his nose, trying to stay calm as he went over the facts. So far, he had been asleep for over a day, he was chained to a hospital bed, he had been outed as a villain, and he had just been fired from his job. His phone was also flashing a low battery symbol and about to die in his hand as his head pounded from all the light and the unnerving silence started getting to him.

He was just starting to think it couldn’t get any worse when he saw the door start to open. Hizashi dropped his phone and his arm, screwing his eyes shut and falling back to lean against the obscene number of pillows behind him and now almost grateful for his missing hearing aids. At least now he could put off whatever lecture was coming; whether it was from the police or the doctors or some weird mix of the two.

There was silence, as always, and Hizashi started bracing himself before… the lights were turned off? Cracking his eyes open, Hizashi saw nothing but blissful darkness and a vague, shadowy shape moving around the room. Maybe if he closed his eyes again, he could pretend to be asleep? It was better than anything else, seeing as now his eyes were burning.

That officially left no part of his body that wasn’t hurting and Hizashi was almost frustrated enough to start crying. Before he could give in to the urge, there was the feeling of soft, dim light filling the room and then the feeling of hands on his arm and Hizashi had to fight not to jerk away as he felt something cold and wet wiping around the needle.

It took a moment, but Hizashi realized that he must have caused some bleeding where he had his arm bent, earlier, and the doctor, or nurse, was wiping away the blood. At least they weren’t trying to ask him questions - or, if they were, Hizashi didn’t hear them.

His phone was taken next, Hizashi hoping that it was at least just set down again instead of taken away from him altogether. Starting to relax, Hizashi tensed back up as he felt something touching his ear and he really did not like that-

“-looking like I’m going to kill you. Oi, can you hear me? I don’t know how these things are supposed to work.” The low, sleepy drawl of Aizawa Shouta had Hizashi jerking back up, eyes wide before they were focusing on a pair of glasses being held in front of him. “Sorry I couldn’t find any of your sunglasses.”

“Aw, Eraser, that’s so sweet of you!” Hizashi tried to say - tried seeing as the second he started talking it felt like his throat was on fire, no noise escaping besides a broken, jagged whimper that his hearing aid picked up all too well.

“Hey, hey, easy.” Hizashi felt a warm, steady hand rubbing circles on his back and then the feeling of a plastic straw against his lips. Hizashi focused on the straw, first, sucking down water and, again, almost crying. It was almost worrying how strong and often the urge was getting, Hizashi mused to himself before taking a few moments to try and steady himself.

“I know this might be an impossible task for you, but don’t try to speak for a while.” Aizawa’s voice was a low, concerned mumble, soft and easy on his hearing as the man worked on hooking his other hearing aid around his ear. “These are some spare aids that the hospital had. The doctor said you should know how to adjust them yourself.”

Settling for giving a shaky thumbs-up, Hizashi took another sip of water before pushing the cup away. As Aizawa set it back on the nightstand, Hizashi took a moment to fiddle with his hearing aids one-by-one, softening the sounds and giving another thumbs-up when they were at the level they roughly should be.

“Right. Nod or shake your head, do you remember why you’re here?” Ah, straight to the point as always, his hero. Hizashi nodded, noting that Aizawa… hadn’t removed his hand from his back. He was still rubbing little circles against Hizashi’s spine, small and soft as if he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

Hizashi made absolutely sure he wasn’t going to cry at the soft touch before leaning into it, making a mental note to blame whatever was in the IV drip later. Remembering he had been asked a question, Hizashi nodded in answer, noticing a bit of tension leak out of the man.

“Good. That means you know what I’m talking about when I call you an absolute idiot.” Well, that was a little harsh. “As soon as you’re out of this hospital I’m going to give you an entire lecture I give to my students in the first week of class about how not to be a dumbass.” An entire lecture, huh? That sounded like it could be fun if Aizawa was the teacher…

Feeling a light pinch to his back, Hizashi gave the man an exaggerated pout, swearing he saw Aizawa blushing. It had to have been the pain meds. “You and Nemuri are too much alike, I swear.” Nemuri…? Oh, right, Midnight. “What hurts the most right now?”

Hizashi pointed to this throat without pause, a bit worried at Aizawa’s expression. It was a frown, as was the usual with him, but he also looked so worried. Hizashi resisted the urge to clear his throat or try to talk again, instead waiting for Aizawa to speak first. He was almost surprised he didn’t have to wait a century for that to happen.

“You overused your quirk, but you also… Do you remember the end of the fight? Right as me and Midnight got there?” Thinking about it and making a face, Hizashi waggled his hand to try and convey a ‘sort of.’ “They had you pinned.” Ah, they had, hadn’t they?

Let’s see… Hizashi remembered feeling a lot of pain, he remembered seeing Eraserhead and then the disappearance of that awful shield, and then… Hizashi touched his fingers to his throat for the first time, feeling thick bandages wrapped around his neck. Bandages like this wouldn’t be used just for bruising.

“They managed to directly attack your neck since they were trying to stop you from using your quirk. You were in surgery for a while last night and early this morning.” Stop him from using his quirk, huh? Depending on how they did that, it was quite possibly a miracle that Hizashi was still…

“You’re lucky you’re alive,” Aizawa mumbled, soft and quiet and hand on his back forming a fist that was clutching at Hizashi’s hospital gown. Since he was unable to speak, Hizashi settled for turning his head just enough to kiss at that scar under Aizawa’s eye, pulling back after a moment and biting his lip.

There was a second where Aizawa blinked, looking surprised and completely caught off guard before Hizashi felt lips pressing against his own, soft and sweet and so unlike the first and last kiss they had shared.

Hizashi wasn’t sure how long it lasted, whether it was a second or a lifetime, but when Aizawa pulled back, he looked a lot less stressed, rubbing at Hizashi’s back again. The two were both silent for a few moments before Aizawa finally straightened up, moving to pull a chair over and take a seat in it.

“The kids are all alright, by the way. All of them were accounted for and none of them have more than a scratch or two.” Aizawa was a mind reader and Hizashi had never been happier for that, it felt like; although he was a little bummed that Aizawa was no longer so close and rubbing at his back because that had been nice. “They also made you a card.”

Wait, what? Hizashi looked over to see that Aizawa was holding up a little cardboard card with a cartoon of a bird with a bright yellow crest on it. Aizawa then flipped it open and Hizashi saw that it was scribbled all over with kind words and addressed to ‘Mr. Hero.’ In the end, Hizashi figured he couldn’t be blamed for crying at that.

Taking a minute or two to wipe at his eyes, Hizashi startled and looked over when he saw Aizawa’s hands moving… Oh.

‘I know sign, by the way.’ Aizawa signed and then looked back to Hizashi with a smirk. Hizashi wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch him or drag him back over for another kiss. Oh, who was he kidding, he definitely wanted to drag him back over for another kiss. Sadly, though, it seemed that would have to wait.

Moving to finally ask the questions he had, Hizashi winced and dropped his shoulders when he felt the hand that was handcuffed draw up short. So much for signing. Maybe he could pout enough that Aizawa would feel pity and pick the lock like he was already doing. Wait.

“I don’t even know why they cuffed you,” Aizawa muttered, Hizashi’s heart speeding up at how close the man was as he leaned over him to get at the lock. Where did he even find lockpicking tools? Did he just carry those around- Shit, the device monitoring his heart rate was getting louder. “It’s not like you’re about to run for it.”

Okay, good, Aizawa didn’t seem to notice. At least, that was what Hizashi thought before the man was giving him a quick, nowhere near as soft kiss, smirking at him when Hizashi’s heart rate shot up again and this man was a horrible human being.

‘You’re awful.’ Hizashi signed as soon as he could, glaring at Aizawa as he sat back down and looked smug. ‘Are all of those kids really alright? What’s been happening while I’ve been out?’

“Ah, well…” Aizawa trailed off, scratching at the scruff on his cheek and not quite looking at him. Hizashi didn’t like that. He really didn’t like that. “The kids are safe, but… Japan seems to be heralding the rise of the newest hero Present Mic.” Japan what now? “Apparently Present Mic is one of the most promising new heroes on the scene in a while.”

Aizawa looked back to him, expression softening to a smile as he gave a quiet laugh, “The kids were interviewed, and they promised to start a fan club for you. Oh, yeah, your hero ranking right now is 46, by the way.”

This time it took a lot longer for Hizashi to stop crying, Aizawa only smiling at him and mentioning little pieces of information from time to time as he tried to calm down. It wasn’t anything as big as being the number forty-six in all of Japan among heroes, but it was nice, little things.

Aizawa’s homeroom class had wanted to throw some kind of slumber party with the kids from other classes and had managed to break every window on the first floor. Shinsou had invented his own move with the binding cloth that Aizawa used as Eraserhead and then used it on him. Aizawa let him know he was equally annoyed and proud. Midnight, too, came up, Aizawa mentioning that she had been blowing up his phone every few hours asking for updates.

Overall, the man just kept talking. He sounded bored and tired as always, but he never let there be too long a moment of silence. It was enough to make Hizashi cry for a few minutes longer than he probably should have.

Finally, he got control of himself enough to start finger-spelling out Eraser, startled when Aizawa shook his head before Hizashi felt his heart almost stop when he heard the words, “Just call me Shouta.”

Hizashi stared, unable to even try to say anything because… He would really give Hizashi a gift like that? They had been villain and hero for so long and yet he would give Hizashi the gift of using his given name? Just like that?

“Oh, right, here’s how you sign it.” As with most sign languages, names were made up of different signs to give them a personalized feel and help distinguish them. Hizashi had to cover his mouth and fight not to laugh, though, because the signs Shouta used for his name were the signs for cat and sleep.

“Oi, oi, stop laughing,” Ai- Shouta complained, looking more amused than upset. “A student gave it to me a few years ago and I was too lazy to ever bother changing it, is all.”

‘More like you liked that student too much to bother changing it.’ The silence was an answer all its own, Hizashi supposed. ‘Fine, but you have to call me by my own name.’ Fingerspelling his name, first, Hizashi followed it up with his own personalized signs; the ones for microphone and sun.

“Hizashi, hm?” Shouta was grinning in a way that made it seem as if he knew something Hizashi didn’t, yet, and… Yamada Hizashi. The civilian barista who Eraserhead had saved and then helped home. That meant he knew- “Oh, before you try to panic again, I knew it was you that night I helped you with your shoulder.”

‘I knew it! I knew you were too smug about something that night!’ Hizashi had been worrying himself to death over that night and so of course Shouta had already known everything! That meant he was fully aware of who Hizashi was when he told him he could be a hero. He… He had known the entire time.

“Yeah. I knew.” Shouta knew all too well what he had been saying and who he had been saying it to and he still had believed every word of it. “Looks like I was right, though.”

Hizashi covered his mouth for a moment, remembering those quiet words of, “I have a feeling that you would be an amazing hero, Yamada.”

Trying not to cry, because he really had done far too much of that already, Hizashi instead dropped his hands and gave a small smile and carefully signed, ‘My cat’s name is Snowball, in case you forgot.’

“Mine is Jelly,” Shouta laughed, a warm and fond smile on his face. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.” Hizashi was so stupidly in love with this man. Half-ready to say as much, both paused when there was a knock on the door.

Hizashi swallowed as he saw it open to reveal an older man who was going gray and, after a second glance, showed he was no doubt the doctor for this ward. Hizashi was already bracing himself when he saw the man reach to the turn light on.

“Leave it off,” Shouta spoke up, startling the doctor and Hizashi both. “He has light sensitivity. What do you need?”

“Oh, Eraserhead, you’re still here. Good.” The doctor walked in and fluttered around the bed for a minute or two, checking on everything and jotting down notes in an annoyingly silent way until he was done. “Can I talk to you out in the hall for a moment?”

“Sure,” Shouta sighed, standing up with a little grumble, not moving away from Hizashi until the doctor was halfway back to the door. Hizashi appreciated it more than he could currently say, but he had a feeling Shouta already knew that.

“Oh, and he’s supposed to still be handcuffed, you know.” Oh, right. Shouta had taken off the handcuffs earlier, hadn’t he? Jeez, here he was beat up and could hardly move and they were still worried about him and his quirk. “He may not be a threat at the moment, but for safety’s sake-”

“He’ll be good,” Shouta interrupted, Hizashi trying to figure out what sort of joke he could make before he felt fingers skimming along his jaw, tilting his gaze up to where he could meet Shouta’s, the man giving him a look that had him shivering, words drawled out low and quiet. “Won’t you?”

In that moment, Hizashi realized there was very little he wouldn’t be willing to do when Shouta asked him like that. He was quick to nod, flushing as Shouta ducked in to press lips against his temple, soft words near a whisper against his skin that sounded out a soft, “Good boy.”

A second later and Shouta was walking to the door, perfectly composed in parallel to the strangled wheezing sound Hizashi was making as he patted his cheeks, staring down at his blankets as the door was left cracked open.

He tried to gather his thoughts together because while he certainly hadn’t known he was into something like that, he was definitely into something like that. Right, right. Okay. He needed to focus. Actually, he should probably try to listen to what the doctor was saying to Shouta.

It took a bit of fiddling with his hearing aids, but with the door cracked Hizashi was at least able to make out that they were talking about his quirk, the words getting a bit louder when one of them bumped into the door and it opened a bit more.

“-this point it’s safe to say that there’s little doubt that he’s lost the ability to use his quirk.” Oh, they must have been talking about someone else. One of the villains he had fought, maybe? Hizashi wondered what had happened.

Shouta’s voice was harder to hear where he was so quiet, but Hizashi still managed to catch all of it, “There’s still a chance, though?”

“Well, there’s always a chance, Eraserhead, but realistically…” Damn, Hizashi almost felt sorry for whoever this was. “There’s also the matter of recovering his normal voice, as well. There’s a very real chance he might never be able to effectively speak again.”

Hizashi swallowed, slowly lifting a hand to trace at the bandages around his throat. Someone else must have hurt their throat at the fight, too, then. Hizashi wouldn’t be surprised. It had been a chaotic end.

He remembered that he himself had been pinned down and he remembered the shield falling. One of the villains, though, had a spike quirk and Hizashi remembered, just vaguely, feeling like he was being strangled before there had been such a sharp sting coming from his neck. It had hurt.

Even with how exhausted and painful everything was, it was that sharp, stinging pain from his neck that had hurt so much. Strangely enough, after that, it felt like he had been drowning, and he couldn’t tell if it was memory or imagination that made him ‘remember’ hearing Shouta screaming his name.

He had been strangled, then a sharp sting, and then the feeling of drowning, and then Shouta screaming his name… Hizashi felt the bandages around his neck again. They really were too thick just to cover up some bruises. It made more sense if they were covering up some sort of cut. Shouta said he had been in surgery, too. If his neck had been cut deep enough, then whoever they were talking about in the hallway could have been him. It wasn’t, though. It couldn’t. He was fine. He was fine.

“Hizashi…” Jolting at the quiet, pained sound of his name, Hizashi shuddered as he felt Shouta’s hand cupping his cheek and wiping away tears. It seemed Hizashi had been crying again. “How much did you hear?”

Ah, and there it was. Hizashi could lie to himself for as long as he wanted, but he had never quite been able to lie to Eraserhead; and Shouta he could never lie to.

‘Who am I without my voice?’ He hated his voice and quirk more than anything in the world, some days, and he had spent so long running away from them, but it was who he was. He was the Voice Vi… Hero? The Voice… ‘Who am I without my quirk?’

His hands were shaking, but Hizashi couldn’t stop himself from trying to ask his questions. It wasn’t like he’d ever be able to speak his questions again, a fact that made everything hurt as he tried to take steady breaths through his tears. ‘Does that make me better, now, Shouta? Does it make it better now that I don’t have a quirk? That’s probably better, isn’t it? To be quirkless rather than to be a villain?’

It wasn’t fair, though. Hizashi hadn’t even gotten the chance to change before it was all over for him. ‘Maybe this is for the best, right? It’s probably better-’ Hizashi startled as his hands were grabbed and held softly, fingers linking with his before Hizashi felt lips nudge and press against his own, giving him a distraction that he didn’t hesitate to take.

This time Hizashi pressed back just as much Shouta, freeing his hands and wrapping them around Shouta’s shirt, tugging him closer, too scared to pull away and ask what this meant for them.

It was a lot longer before they pulled away this time, Hizashi still pathetically shaking and crying, breath hitching when he felt Shouta kiss at the tears still rolling down his cheeks. Hizashi didn’t even get to try and ask any other questions before Shouta was asking one himself, voice sounding as wrecked as Hizashi’s would if he could still speak.

“Go out with me?” Not even Hizashi could pretend Shouta meant that as anything than what it was. There was no way to confuse the fact that Shouta, even after all this, still wanted him.

Hizashi was near sobbing when he managed to bring his hands up to sign yes over and over until Shouta grabbed his hands and pulled him into a kiss that was harder than all the ones before it. It was rough, hard, utterly consuming, and impossible to think of anything else.

Hizashi couldn’t find it within him to do anything but press back, hands gripping at Shouta’s tight enough to no doubt leave bruises. That was okay, though. It was all okay. Hizashi didn’t need his hands or voice to speak to Shouta, after all.

He knew without a doubt, just like every other time before, Shouta heard him loud and clear.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #erasermic #villainous heroics #villain!mic #corndog-patrol

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justanothersadgirl95-blog · 5 years ago

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Medical marijuana advocacy

First Tumblr post!

I created this account so I can voice what I need to without the inevitable backlash from family and peers.

Weed is a strange subject right now. It's sort of legal, but sort of not. Sort of criminal, maybe kind of decriminalized. It's still taboo even though a huge number of people use it. It's still frowned upon by mother's (mine haha), employers, law enforcement.

Hi, I'm Alex and I'm a pot head. I first smoked weed out of a tobacco pipe on a highway overpass, on a hot summer evening when I was supposed to be at a church fair down the street, when I was approximately 14 years old and the rest is history. Now I am a 24 year old functioning member of society. I'm a wife and mom of two incredible and intelligent kids. I go to work when I'm supposed to (mostly), I pay my bills and my taxes and I (sort of) uphold traffic laws.

I also smoke cannabis whenever I am conscious. I doubt that anyone knows the difference between sober and stoned me anymore. I enjoy it. I use it as a crutch for my clinical and sometimes debilitating depression. I use it when I get headaches or migraines, a stomach bug, unnecessary family drama, tired, awake, hard day at work, celebrating, you name it.

At the end of the day, I do not care what the laws are. I should but I don't. In my state, medical marijuana is legal, recreational is illegal, but has been decriminalized so I think all you will get is a fine if caught with it. I advocate for medical marijuana to be fully accessable as needed for many ailments, mainly centered towards cancer patients.

A few weeks ago I sat in a waiting room after a follow up appointment with my oncologist. I'm still clear, in case you are wondering. I sat there with my husband staring at a TV screen with a health information slide show playing. Eventually it came to a slide concerning nausea after treatment. And all the "suggestions" were Bull. Shit. Different foods to try, exercise, medication. I lol'd. Because let me tell you guys, after a few hours of sitting in a chair with an IV in your chest receiving chemotherapy nicknamed "red death" (due to its bright red color before injection, when you pee it out, and simply because the side effects SUCK,) you don't want to eat, you cannot exercise, and you've already pumped every kind of pharmaceutical into your body desperately trying to relieve the sickness.

When I was 18 years old, freshly graduated from high school with a 6 month old on my hip, I was diagnosed with cancer. My mom was super proactive and got the ball rolling immediately. Just the year before, I saw my father die from cancer. I thought I had some preparation for how I'd feel after treatment. I was wrong.

The first treatment, I cried when they inserted the giant needle into the medi port in my chest. More because I was scared than because of pain. They told me I probably wouldn't feel any side effects until the next day so I finished the treatment a little dazed, but continued on to the grocery store with my mom. We tried to buy food for when I got hungry. I started feeling the weight of the world on me. A feeling I can only describe as poison taking over your body. Nausea. Oh the nausea. I went home and slept for two to three days. Only opening my eyes for water and medication. It. Was. Torture. Id never felt so bad in my life. I never imagined feeling so bad. Ever. And when I finally woke up, I looked my mom in the eyes and told her I couldn't do this. So told me I had to.

So off to the next treatment I went two weeks later (every other week.) This time we added additional nausea medications to my IV before treatment. Same results. I was asleep for a few days. When I finally woke up, my husband (fiance at the time) suggested we go search for food I'd be able to stomach. We drove off, he pulled out a blunt for me to smoke, I was scared to try it, feeling as awful as I did. But then the nausea started to lessen. I wasn't in such a "brain fog". I. Was. Hungry. AND I was able to eat and keep down just about anything I wanted. I was amazed. I was thankful. I was going to get through this.

So the next appointment, my husband took me. He held my hand during treatment, packed me into the car afterwards, drove off and again, handed me a blunt. And again, I felt okay. I felt.. definitely better since the last round. After that, I smoked weed as needed. Which was frequently. The chemo was Hell. But instead of being in a coma for three days, then days of sickness afterwards just trying to recover, I would bunker down for two to three days, use the pot as needed and THEN I WAS ABLE TO GO ABOUT MY LIFE FOR THE NEXT WEEK AND A HALF UNTIL THE NEXT TREATMENT. I mean, holy shit. It was like night and day, the difference cannabis made during all of that.

This stuff is the reason I made it. This stuff is the reason I was able to function like I did. I was able to be a mom and a daughter and a partner. I was able to live.

And then I realized that this shit, weed, ganja, pot, cannabis, MJ, the devil's lettuce, is not available to every cancer patient out there. There are still states where this is illegal.

Wait until you read what I am about to type next.

Because of lack of education and the unfortunate stigma against marijuana use, people who really need this shit, people going through chemotherapy, do not have regular and full access it. Everywhere.

It's insane really. Something so simple, easily grown, can make such a difference. THIS is what should be playing on the slide shows in the cancer centers. This is what we should be educating our family and friends on when they get sick. This, marijuana, is hope when there doesn't seem to be any.

Be open minded. Educate yourself. Pass it along. You never know who it could help.

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heartsunholy-a · 6 years ago

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☪ five times our muses almost hold hands, and the one time they do. (MORRIS/BETTY ENJOY)

Five Times Drabbles // Selectively Accepting // @tomorrcwsnews

Aka: Morris yanks Betty around by her wrist a lot and they end up protecting each other a lot more than either of them will ever admit

She can barely see where she’s going - which, admittedly, makes everything worse since she’s only lived in Manhattan for a week or two. But she knows the way to the butcher’s, at least. Problem is, she’s carrying too many packages. Chic said he would take them when he finished his shift but the butcher was close enough to her school that Betty figured she’d lighten her brother’s load - as much as a 12-year-old girl could. But the stack of groceries in her arms makes it difficult to navigate the busy Manhattan sidewalks.

It’s all a blur. The noise of a trolley car rings in her ears as an unseen hand reaches for Betty’s wrist and yanks her backwards, away from the curb. Her groceries fly everywhere but she’s safe. Still a little dazed, she moves to gather her belongings, sparring a look up at her savior. A boy, roughly her age. He makes no move to help gather her things and perhaps Betty’s confusion looks like something more ungrateful to him.

“I saved ya from being tomorrow’s headline. ‘Girl Crushed By Trolley.’ Yer welcome, by the way.”

Betty huffs in annoyance and brushes the dirt from her skirts as she stands with the stack of groceries back in her arms. Just as precariously stacked as before. She’s mostly annoyed he didn’t give her a chance to thank him in her own time - she would’ve. He was right, she very nearly could’ve been hurt. Instead, not appreciating his attitude, the Brooklyn-born blonde peeks around her belongings to shoot the boy a sugary sweet smile. “My hero,” she coos, insincerity dripping from her words. He scoffs and turns on his heel, clearly no longer interested in her thanks.

She misses Brooklyn.

ii.

Hiram Lodge is kind to them but Betty wonders if it’s only because of her friendship with Veronica. She had been friends with the heiress practically since moving to Manhattan and she sometimes forgets how powerful and wealthy the Lodges truly are. With Hal Cooper laid up with a leg injury he got at his construction job, Betty’s connection to the Lodges has been invaluable. She and Chic need jobs of their own and Hiram will ensure they find decent work.

He’s offering Chic a distribution job, showing him around the World’s distribution center, introducing him to Mr. Wiesel. Betty’s left to her own devices. Hiram’s already promised to introduce her to THE William Randolph Hearst, to be a secretary or maybe a columnist herself! So the blonde thumbs through a stack of papers, bound and ready to distribute. Well…if she tied them back up, what was the harm in taking just one to read for now?

She unties a bundle and moves to grab the paper on top when a warm, rough hand slams atop her own and Betty glances up. There’s…something familiar about this boy.

“And whaddya think you’re doin’, Blonde?”

…Oh god.

“Baking a cake, what does it look like I’m doing?” She’s not winning herself or Chic any favors with her sarcastic retort, but Betty swears she can hear her brother, Hiram, and Mr. Wiesel laughing in the background, so she doubts anyone else has heard her.

“It looks like you’re tryina steal from us,” he presses, hand still warm atop Betty’s but his gaze icy cold.

“Steal a paper, are you kidding? Do I look like I can’t afford a dime for a paper?” She’s no heiress like Veronica but her family is doing okay. Or at least had been but with Betty and her brother joining their sister in the workforce, they’d be fine again soon enough.

“Then cough it up. Put ya money where ya mouth is.”

“Ah! Betty dear, I see you’ve already met one of Chic’s potential work mates!” There’s something sly in Hiram Lodge’s smile and Betty’s cheeks burn at the implication. “Chic, my boy! This young man is Morris Delancy. He and his brother Oscar run most of the day to day operations here. And Wiesel, good man, this is Miss Betty Cooper, Chic’s youngest sister and my Veronica’s best friend.”

Betty uses the distraction to slip her hand out from Morris’s hold - with her paper clutched victoriously in her grasp. She turns back to Morris, that same sweet smile in place from years before. “Thank you for the paper, Morris. It was really very sweet of you to offer.” Her smile grows smug as Hiram escorts the Coopers to the New York Journal’s offices, away from the seething Morris.

iii.

Chic doesn’t take the job at the distribution center, instead opting for a security officer position at City Hall. But Betty finds herself back at the distribution center before she knows it. She’s chasing a story, with dreams of writing something other than a vaudeville review. The trolley workers are striking and she’s trying to get a quote from the Delancys, about rumors that they were paid to harass the strikers. As per usual, there are raised voices and arguing - Betty’s never seen eye to eye with the Delancey brothers - but Morris cuts himself off when his attention is stolen by a more pressing matter.

Rough fingers curl around Betty’s wrist, tugging her into the nearest alley. His other hand clamps against her mouth when she starts to protest. Only then does the blonde hear the noises from further down the block. She tries to plead with her eyes, assuring him that she’ll stay silent. Morris seems to get the message as he lifts his hand from her mouth. Betty peers around the corner, taking in the shadows. She’s only heard whispers and rumors like he’s some sort of boogeyman but she knows what’s going on. Snyder the Spider taking in an unsuspecting victim to the Refuge.

It’s sometime later when the sounds die down and Snyder doesn’t appear to be nearing their location. Morris’s grip on her wrist is loose, calloused fingertips barely brushing against her skin. He doesn’t protest when she pulls her hand out of his hold entirely.

“Um…Thanks. For that,” she murmurs, gaze flickering back to the street just in case Snyder was about to show up again.

Morris nods and it’s the most civilly they’ve spoken since they’ve met. “Yeah, well. Shoulda been home anyway, Blondie. Next time, I might not be here t’ save ya.”

Maybe it’s because she’s seen someone far scarier tonight, but there’s less malice in his voice than usual.

iv.

The newsies are striking and it’s Betty’s chance to get a real story published!

When the newsies successfully stop scabs from delivering the papers in their places, Morris and Oscar try and muscle them all out. Betty has no problems going toe to toe with them. She doesn’t mind being the thorn in their side if it gets her the story - especially not when they treat other kids like crap. They don’t really hit the girls back, just sort of cart them off to the side, but Betty contents herself to being a distraction, for some of the other boys to get somewhere safe.

Then the bulls arrive. And relief lasts for only a second before a nightstick swings back and strikes Romeo’s face. And then chaos returns, a hundredfold.

The next time Morris scoops Betty up, he doesn’t try to carry her to the circulation gate. He moves to an alley, a side street. A way out. And when he sets her down and Betty tries to rush past him, he stands his ground.

“For a smart girl, you’re really fuckin’ dumb. It’s suicide, goin’ back there!” His voice is loud but not louder than the heartbeat thumping in Betty’s ears.

“They need me! Not everyone’s a selfish prick like you!” She struggles, hands pressed against his chest, knees lifting but he stands strong, even when she can tell her blows are substantial.

One of Morris’s hands lifts - not to push Betty back, but to hold her in place. His hand around her wrist causes her to freeze. She’s confused and angry and the battle rages on behind them and she just wants to help, hates hearing the way the newsies are crying out, she needs to help!

“Cooper.”

It’s the first time Betty can ever remember Morris calling her by name. And there’s something urgent, almost pleading in his voice. “It’s gonna get ugly. You don’t wanna go back there. Use that big ol’ brain o’ yours and do the smart thing.”

Oscar approaches, corralling Katherine and Veronica - but he appears less like he’s shoving them and more like he’s guiding them. Veronica, with one hand twined in Katherine’s, reaches for Betty’s.

They’ll regroup. They’ll find the newsies who’ve already escaped. Snyder and Pulitzer may have won a battle but they haven’t won the war. Katherine and Betty have their articles to finish, after all.

Morris lets go of her wrist, his face unreadable, and he watches for a moment as the girls - hands clutching each other’s desperately - flee into the night. Betty swears his eyes haunt her dreams for the following nights as much as the fight does.

“Honestly Delancy, what would you ever do without me?”

“Stop havin’ so many damn headaches a day, pro’ly.”

She chuckles but doesn’t stop her work, wrapping cloth around bruised and bleeding knuckles. She hasn’t asked what Morris was doing before she found him, resting in an alley on her route home from the Journal’s offices. She’s learned the hard way she doesn’t always want to know the nitty gritty details of Morris’s life. Not like he’ll tell her anyway. They may have formed some sort of tentative truce now that the strike’s over but she knows the Delancey brothers don’t trust a nosy reporter as far as they can throw her. (And Betty wagers they could probably throw her a fair distance.)

But she can’t leave him like this, struggling to bind his injuries with his non-dominant hand. So she takes his wounded hand and rests it in her lap, her fingers working to tie her handkerchief as a makeshift bandage. The banter is short-lived for once and a silence falls over the pair as the blonde continues her work. Once completed, Betty pats his palm gingerly with her fingertips, as if to punctuate the end of her work. “There. That should hold for the night, at least.”

He curls his fingers experimentally but doesn’t remove his hand from her lap. Betty pretends not to notice.

“…Why?” Morris finally speaks up, gaze aimed at his bound hand and ignoring the blonde beside him. His question’s so quiet Betty barely hears it.

She too is silent for a long moment, only shrugging in reply at first. “I don’t hate you, you know. You and Oscar seem to think I do but…I don’t.”

“Coulda fooled me,” he grumbles and Betty finds herself chuckling softly.

“I mean, you’re an absolute prick, don’t get me wrong. But I’m not gonna just let you bleed out on the street. No one deserves that.” He falls silent and Betty risks a glance in his direction. Something she can’t quite name worms its way into her chest and she hates it but she doesn’t ignore it. Instead, she pats his palm once more before standing up. “…G’night, Morris.”

She almost swears she hears a “G’night, Cooper” as she returns on her path home.

vi.

She really hates having to do this. But the headlines had all been talking about the borough-wide streetlight repairs being done and she knows it’ll be dark on her walk home tonight. Chic’s home with the flu, meaning he can’t pick her up from the Journal’s offices. She doesn’t want to bother her father - he’s still easing back into work after his leg had healed and walking across town and back wouldn’t be good for him.

She leaves the offices while it’s still light and tries to rush to the World’s distribution center. She figures there still oughta be some of the newsies around getting their pay. Maybe she can ask one of them to escort her home. But when she arrives, all she sees is Morris, stacking empty crates. None of her friends, not even Oscar or Wiesel, though Betty figures they’re inside.

Shit. She glances at the horizon, watches the sky turn dark. She could probably make it to the Tribune to see if Darcy was still there, but…

“Hey! Beat it, Blondie. Ya ain’t got nothin’ better t’ do than hang out around here? All ya newsie pals ‘re gone.”

…Great. So much for getting away without dealing with Morris.

Betty sighs, blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face. “Yeah, I’ve noticed. Don’t worry about it, okay? I was just trying to see if Jack or Davey or someone was still around and could walk me home. You know, since the lights are down and all?” Her gaze refocuses on the sky, trying to calculate how dark it would be by the time she walked somewhere else to find an escort home. “But forget it, I’ll go back to the Journal and-”

When Betty turns back around, words died in her throat at the sight of Morris’s outstretched hand and expectant stare. “…Are you serious?” she questions, skepticism all but dripping from her tone.

“D’ya see anyone else around here? C’mon Cooper, the sooner I get ya home, the sooner I can go t’ bed. You ain’t the only one who had a long da-”

It’s Morris’s turn to go speechless when Betty takes his hand, fingers lacing between his. Her smile is a little too smug to be aimed at someone doing her a favor. But Morris deserves it. He doesn’t really retaliate, only scoffing. He tugs on her hand, urging her to walk. And she does, falling in step beside the boy.

It’s dark enough to mask any heat that dusts Betty’s cheeks, allowing her to focus on the warmth of Morris’s hand in hers.

#messages #tomorrcwsnews #betty cooper » ic #connection » i know my skull bustin' arm could use a day of rest (morris delancey)#((hey hi uh?????? im fucked up????? these two got me fucked up????))#ship » i don't trust you but i want to ; please don't let me fall (betty and morris)#misc » i wanna scream 'i love you' from the top of my lungs (save tag)

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chibinightowl · 6 years ago

Text

Bakery AU, Part IX

One more chapter to go...

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII

~*~

“Tell me what?”

Tim’s heart starts to race, a last ditch effort by his body to give him the brainpower needed to get the words out of his mouth. He takes hold of Jason’s hand and removes it from his chin, but he doesn’t let it go. “I know you’re Redwing.”

To his credit, Jason doesn’t even flinch. “Right,” he drawls. “Tim, I think you’re a little sleep deprived.”

“Oh, I am,” Tim agrees. He forges on. “But I know I’m right.”

“Really? How so?”

“Because I figured out that Dick Grayson was Robin when I was nine years old.”

Jason’s grip on his hand tightens, the only sign his words are affecting him at all. “Okay, suppose I buy this tale. How did you figure it out?”

Tim launches into a story that has never once passed his lips. About how as a young boy he went to the circus with his parents and met an acrobat who promised to do a quadruple somersault just for him. He spoke of how that night ended in tragedy, with the acrobat’s parents falling to their deaths when their ropes snapped. “I kept tabs on Dick after I heard Mr. Wayne took him in. Sometimes I saw him at society events it was okay for kids to attend. When I was nine, I caught a clip on one of those paparazzi TV shows of Robin. They were running a brief segment on local urban myths. The video was absolute crap even if they did try to clean it up, but it wasn’t the person I recognized. It was what he did that struck me the most.”

“What did he do?” Jason prods when Tim pauses to gather his thoughts.

“He did a quadruple somersault. There’s only person in the world who can do it. Dick Grayson. After I figured that out, the rest was easy.” Tim bites his lip, stopping the flow of words.

There. He’d done it. No going back now.

Jason places his hands on Tim’s shoulders, holding him firmly in place as he stares intently at him. “Are you telling me a nine year old boy figured out one of the most closely guarded secrets on the planet?”

Tim nods. “If you’re referring to Batman, yes. He goes to great pains to hide it. Superman on the other hand…a pair of glasses? Really?”

A heavy hand covers his mouth faster than Tim can blink. “I think that’s enough tonight. You’re tired and obviously getting to the point where you’re not thinkin’ straight.”

What? Tim stiffens and jerks himself away from Jason. “You think I’m making this all up? I’m exhausted, but I’m not stupid. Jason, I have never, ever, spoken about this to anyone before. If you don’t believe me, fine. I was trying to be honest with you, because if you want whatever this is between us to work, then you need to be honest with me.”

“I don’t think this is the time or place to be having this conversation. You don’t have a door right now, remember?”

Tim’s mouth snaps shut. Son of a bitch. Had he been speaking too loudly? He doesn’t think so, but Jason is right. All that’s keeping the rest of the world out of his little shop is a piece of plastic. “Sorry. Sorry, you’re right. I’m just…”

“You’re tired, Tim.” Jason hauls him back in and plants a tender kiss on his forehead. “Go take a nap. I’ll finish cleaning this up.”

There isn’t anything Tim can do but nod. He’s blown it. He knows he has. Goddammit, why did he say it? Had he really misread things so badly? What’s going to happen now? Jason would be fully within his rights to never see him again after this little bomb. Fuck.

Tim lets Jason direct him into the kitchen and, under his watchful eye, gets his blanket and pillow out of the storage bin. Jason doesn’t comment about it, which says a lot about where this is all heading. He makes a little pallet under his desk and lays down. Through bleary eyes Tim watches Jason turn off the light and close the door, leaving it open just a crack. This is the last time he’s going to see Jason, he knows it. It hurts so bad that he doesn’t want the same thing as him.

So much for that gamble.

As Tim falls into a fitful sleep, he swears that he hears the low tone of Jason’s voice speaking to someone. “B? You won’t believe what I just heard…”

~*~*~

The next day Tim decides is quite possibly one of the worst he’s had in a while. Jason is gone when he wakes up to the alarm the man apparently set for him. No note, no nothing, not that Tim expects anything after the mess he made of things last night.

Stephanie tries to get the story out of him when she arrives an hour later with breakfast and coffee, but he refuses to say a word other than that he and Jason had a disagreement. This isn’t something Steph can help with. It’s all his fault.

“Do I need to call him and tell him to stop being an ass?” the blonde asks pointedly.

Tim loves that her loyalty is unwaveringly with him even if she doesn’t know all the details. “No, I’m pretty sure this is all on me.”

“Oh, Tim.” Steph wraps her arms around him and holds him tight. “Are you guys done then?”

He sighs into her freshly washed hair. God, he has to stink to high heaven at this point. “I don’t know.”

Steph squeezes him, then draws back, hands still on his arms as she gives him a serious look. “You know what’s going to make you feel better?”

“The ability to rewind the last twelve or so hours?”

“A shower. Go home, Tim. Get cleaned up, and for God’s sake, brush your teeth.”

Tim laughs weakly because what else can he do? He put himself out there and got rejected.

This is why he doesn’t date. It always hurts when things fall apart.

The rest of the day passes in a blur. It takes a few phone calls to get someone out on a Saturday to replace his door, and as soon as that was done, Tim calls it a day. He and Stephanie already have a plan in place to get things back up and running tomorrow, even if it will take at least a week to get a new display case. That’s fine, they can still take the truck out and Tim can set out a tray with a single cupcake of each design for any walk-ins to choose from while keeping the rest in back. They can make this work. Gotham and a broken heart are not going to keep Tim Drake down.

As he walks home in the late afternoon sun, Tim decides to allow himself one night to wallow in his misery. He deserves that much. A quick stop by the store gets him a six pack of his favorite microbrew and he swings by a Chinese restaurant that makes what he swears are the best noodles in town. Literally, since they make their noodles right there.

Properly fortified, Tim brings his prizes home. Another shower and a change of clothes later, he settles onto his sofa to binge watch Netflix. There are some shows he needs to catch up on.

He does not think about Jason. Much.

Three hours later, he’s finished half his stir-fried noodles and three bottles of beer. Sleep sounds like a great idea, lightweight that he is, so Tim manages to put away his food before returning to the sofa where he puts on a BBC nature documentary to fall asleep to.

He cuddles under his afghan and is out in under a minute.

~*~*~

It’s late when Tim wakes up. He feels like he should still be asleep, but something has drawn him out of that sweet oblivion where he doesn’t think about Jason. Everything is quiet, so he decides it must be his faintly hurting head that woke him. Some headache meds and water will fix that, as will sleeping in his bed rather than the living room.

Tim opens his eyes blearily as he sits up. Then he opens them wider and jerks upright, the afghan pooling around his waist.

Standing in front of his muted TV is Batman, outlined by the glow of the screen behind him.

Oh, shit. Why…Oh. Oh. Jason must have told him everything. Of course, he would, the little bomb Tim dropped on him last night impacts everything his family works so hard for. God, how could he have been so thoughtless?

His inner fanboy cowers in the corner of his mind, wailing in fear even though Tim is reasonably certain Batman won’t actually hurt him. Scare the crap out of him, yes. Intimidate him, hell yes. This is very intimidating, yup. Babbling seems like a stupid thing to do right about now, so Tim keeps his mouth shut and waits for Batman to say something.

And waits.

Seriously? Is he waiting for Tim to speak up first? He has not had enough sleep for this. Tim shoves the afghan off his lap and swings his legs to the floor. “Would you like some coffee? If you’re just going to stand there, then I’m going to need some.”

Batman doesn’t move. If anything, he frowns harder without even moving his face.

Now there’s a trick Tim would love to learn. He makes his way into the kitchen and flips on the overhead light by the sink to see by. Coffee prep is something he could do in his sleep, so while the little pot is brewing, Tim takes two mugs out of the cabinet and sets them on the counter.

“Do you take cream or sugar?” he calls out, not really expecting an answer.

He doesn’t get one.

Black it is.

Tim pours two cups and returns to the living room. He doesn’t try and hand Batman his cup, but he does place it on the coffee table in front of him before sitting back down on the sofa. This is by far the strangest interview he’s ever been part of. It must be a neat trick, using your reputation to get everything you need to know out of a person without having to say a word.

This could go on all night. “What do you want to know?” Tim asks eventually.

“Start from the beginning.” Batman’s voice is a low growl, one that makes Tim’s throat hurt just listening to it.

So Tim starts there, telling Batman how he met Dick, the promised quadruple somersault, and the tragedy that occurred later. He tells him about how he kept tabs on the former acrobat through the news, that he just wanted to be sure the boy was happy. Then he tells him what happened when he was nine… “I’m not sure there are many people who could have made that connection,” he admits slowly. “I mean, sure, the people at the circus probably can if they ever happen to see Robin, or Nightwing now, do that. But outside of there? I don’t think I would have if I hadn’t been there that night and saw it myself.” As well as everything that happened after, but there’s no need to rehash that again.

“You were very young.”

Tim nods. “I was almost four. My mom always said I have a mind like a steel trap. That when something goes in, it’s not coming out. I think that’s part of the reason why I didn’t forget. I couldn’t, even if I’d wanted to.” He sips his coffee, debating about the next part. This is where he could get into some serious trouble.

Well, this is supposed to be a confession of sorts. And it does feel good to get everything off his chest after holding it so close for years.

“When I figured out who was under Robin’s mask, I decided I needed to see Dick in action again for myself. We lived in the city, and Mom and Dad were never around much, so it was easy to sneak out…” Tim tells Batman about how he used to map his and Robin’s patrol routes, how he would hide and wait half the night for even a glimpse of his hero. As he got better and grew more confident, that was when he started bringing a camera.

If Batman was rigid before, then those words made him even more so.

“Those first photos were horrible,” Tim admits with a wry shake of his head. “It took a lot of practice to learn how to shoot at night, just as it took a lot of trial and error to learn to develop my own pictures because these were not something I wanted to take to the convenience store and have just anyone see. But I got better and by the time I did, there was a new Robin.”

Jason. The Robin he got all the best photos of.

“I took my pictures for a little over three years,” Tim continues. “And then my parents were murdered in a botched kidnapping. My life was turned upside down for a time, but when it became clear that I was going to end up in foster care since I had no family to take me in, I knew I couldn’t keep any of those pictures. I couldn’t risk it, even if no one knows the faces beneath those masks.”

“What did you do?”

“I took them up to the roof of my parent’s townhouse and burned them. Each and every one.” It still hurt, even after a decade and more having passed. But it hurt like ripping off a bandaid hurt, and no longer tore at his soul. “All my negatives, I soaked in bleach.”

Batman gestures to the pictures hanging on the walls. The black and white photos are taken from various angles high above Gotham. “You didn’t stop taking pictures completely.”

Tim shakes his head. “No, but I didn’t take those until I’d graduated from culinary school and had my own place. I like photography, it’s something I’m good at. But it’s a hobby now. A skill I can put to use in my shop for my website.”

“You understand the concerns I have.” It isn’t a question and Tim doesn’t pretend to take it as such.

Still, he knows he’s expected to answer. “I do. Honestly, I wasn’t planning to say a word about this to Jason at all. Until last night, I thought what we had was just a mutually beneficial arrangement between two consenting adults. He’d never given me a reason to believe otherwise.”

“Until last night,” Batman states, echoing Tim’s words. “Why did you tell him this?”

Tim hedges and sips his coffee as he tries to gather his thoughts. For all that opening his mouth had been a mistake, the reason why he did hasn’t changed. On that one fact, he still feels like he’s on solid ground.

“Because last night he said he cares about me. That what keeps him coming back is me.” No need to mention the frosting part. Nope. “I’ve known for a little while now that I like him more than what our arrangement calls for. I figured that if he wants a real relationship, then he has a right to what I know so that he doesn’t have to lie to me when the shit hits the fan or he gets all battered and bruised and needs to cancel plans we’ve made. I can’t imagine it’s easy for anyone who tries to date one of you guys.”

“It isn’t. Especially for someone like you who cannot protect himself.”

The implication is clear as day. Tim tightens his fingers around his warm mug. “I know I’m putting myself in harm’s way if Jason and I keep seeing each other. I know I can be used against him or as a means to hurt him. I know all of this. But isn’t it up to us to decide if that’s a chance we want to take?”

“Yeah, B, stop stickin’ your nose in our business.”

Tim almost spills his coffee as Jason comes striding around from behind the sofa in full Redwing regalia. It’s an impressive sight, from the battered leather jacket to the dark gray uniform underneath that fits him like a glove. How long has he been here? Oh, shit, what has he heard? Tim tells himself to get a grip. Everything he’s said to Batman is stuff he plans to tell Jason, if the other man ever gives him a chance.

He’s here though, so that has to mean something. Right?

Batman doesn’t move, but it’s clear when he turns his attention on his son because that weighted gaze no longer sits like a ton of bricks on Tim. “I am trying to ascertain what this man’s intentions are towards all of us.”

Jason snorts incredulously. “No, you’re trying to be a dad for a change and scare away a potential boyfriend. B, Tim knows and hasn’t said a word to anyone. Do you have any idea how much easier this makes things for me? I don’t have to fucking lie for a change.”

Tim clutches his coffee mug, afraid to make even the slightest of noises for fear of interrupting what is clearly a very important argument. Inside, his heart sings with joy because Jason is fighting with Batman for him. If that’s not a sign from the heavens, he doesn’t know what is.

“What happens if it doesn’t work out?” Batman says to Jason. “Think about the damage Tim can do in a single moment of petty spite.”

“I’d never do that,” Tim interrupts. This is something he has to speak up about. “What you guys do is so much bigger than anything I deal with. You’re important. You all mean something to the world. For however long this lasts between Jason and me, I’m glad to be able to support him in whatever way I can. And when it ends, well, I’ll at least know that for a time, I made him happy. Because I can’t imagine you guys get that a lot.”

Both men turn and stare at Tim, heavy and weighted and wow, this must be the same feeling that makes bad guys quiver in their shoes. But Tim holds firm and doesn’t drop his gaze.

“B, you’re done here,” Jason finally announces. “You got what you came for. Tim won’t spill the beans. Now get out.”

“Redwing—”

“Get outta my business, B. I can either air dirty laundry about you and Catwoman or toss you out that window. Take your pick.”

Batman looms over his son, but Jason is clearly having none of it as he just stares him down. All the long years of exposure must make him immune. Tim finds that impressive because wow. Just wow.

That heavy gaze settles back on him for a moment before Batman walks away without another word, brushing past the sofa towards the window leading out to the fire escape. Tim feels a faint rush of cold air on his neck and then nothing. He turns around to look, just to be sure. The only thing he sees is the faint movement of his cheap window blinds.

“So that’s what being interrogated by Batman feels like.”

Jason snorts and picks up the coffee Batman never even touched. “Sort of. There’s usually a lot more punching and getting tossed off the side of a building involved.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Tim feels faint at the thought. Although jumping off the side of a building doesn’t sound too bad if he’s with the right person…kind of like skydiving perhaps.

An awkward silence falls over the room, neither of them seemingly able to start the conversation that needs to happen. Tim fiddles with his mug and steals glances at Jason, who seems lost in thought as he drinks the not-so-warm coffee. What’s going on in his head? How does Jason feel about all this? He apparently likes the idea of him knowing who he is if his statement to Batman was legit.

Tim takes a deep breath and breaks the ice. “How much of that did you hear?”

“All of it. I followed B here and snuck in through your bedroom while he loomed over you like a creepy fuck until you woke up.”

“How long did that take?”

Jason chuckles quietly. “About half an hour. Color me impressed.”

“I may have had a few beers earlier tonight.”

“Lightweight,” Jason teases, but there’s a fondness to it. “You were quite the little stalker once upon a time, weren’t ya?”

Tim nods, feeling steadier now that they’re talking about his past. “I guess you could call it that. At the time though, I was so incredibly lonely that sneaking out for even a glimpse of my heroes was enough to negate the creep factor.”

Jason walks around the coffee table and takes a seat in the recliner. Under the jacket, Tim can just make out the stylized red bat on his broad chest. “You’ve mentioned before that your parents were never around that much.”

“No, they weren’t.” Tim takes a sip from his mug. It’s almost empty. “I had a hard time mourning for people who were never there. I got lucky when I was placed with Grandma Ives. She gets kids in a way I’d never seen before. Probably because she had six of her own, plus over a dozen grandkids. She helped me figure out what my grief was really about and gave me something constructive to do while I worked my way through it.”

“She the one who taught you to bake?”

“Yes.” Tim has many fond memories of Grandma Ives. Perhaps one day, he can introduce Jason to her.

“Did you really take all those pictures of me?” The question seemingly comes out of left field, but Tim has a feeling it’s a precursor to something bigger.

“I did.”

“Is it… Is this the reason you want to be with me?” Jason gestures to his uniform, to the mask he’s still wearing.

Tim is shaking his head before Jason finishes speaking. “No. Not at all. In the beginning, I was shocked that someone like you even spared a glance in my direction. I kept telling myself not to look too deeply into it, to not get attached, that we were both getting something we needed. But when we went out for dinner to that bar, it felt like a date. I wanted it to be a real date so badly that I had to keep reminding myself it wasn’t.”

Jason sighs heavily and leans forward, his solid arms resting on his thickly muscled thighs. “I think of that night as a date. It was all so clear in my head what I was doing, sweeping you off your feet and romancing the crap out of you, but in hindsight, I can see why you believed what you did.” He sounds defeated, which no. No. Tim is not letting this happen.

Standing, Tim sets aside his coffee and kneels in front of Jason, resting his hands over the man’s gloved ones and forcing him to look at him. This close, the lenses in his mask are disconcerting, but Tim knows Jason’s eyes are on him. “We’re both idiots,” he pronounces. “Doing everything ass backwards from the way we should have.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve fucked up,” Jason tries, but Tim shushes him.

“Me neither. But I think we have a good reason to want to do this right. If you want to, that is.” Tim trails off, his momentary boldness tapering into uncertainty.

Jason grabs hold of his hands, holding them firmly in his gloved ones. “I want to. Christ, I want to. But the risks…Tim, already the thought of something happening to you hurts like hell. If we go further…”

Tim raises their joined hands and presses a kiss into the material of Jason’s gloves. “I understand. Just know that I’m willing to take those risks. But really, the choice is yours, not mine. What you do, who you are…it’s all so much bigger than just me.” His confidence shocks him, even if it is nice to know he can bring it out when he needs to, despite the less than stellar circumstances.

“I need some time to think.”

“I respect that.” Tim tries to stand, but Jason rises along with him and draws him in close, pressing his forehead against the top of Tim’s head.

“Tim, this isn’t good-bye. I will let you know what I decide. And in person because you deserve that much, even if it’s not what either of us want.”

It’s more than Tim can reasonably expect. “I appreciate it.”

Jason pulls back a bit and runs his fingers over Tim’s cheeks, seemingly memorizing the planes of his face. “I’ll see you soon.” He leans in and presses a brief kiss against Tim’s mouth.

And then he’s gone, vanishing into the night.

#chibinightowl writes #Tim Drake #Jason Todd #Bruce Wayne #JayTim #Bakery!AU

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geneshaven · 6 years ago

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The Distance Between Two Hearts

Oliver lost consciousness before hitting the ground in the prison yard. Blood gushed from multiple places---his face, his neck and a puncture wound under his ribs from a shiv. He had taken a particular vicious beating this time. After only two months being locked up, Oliver had been fighting a constant barrage of attacks. When word got out that the Green Arrow was now part of the general population, the criminal element that made up the prison’s inmates lined up to get at the former vigilante, to get some pay back and to enact as much damage as possible. The attacks were brutal and often sudden, but Oliver was not some new fish swimming in a tank of sharks. He was a seasoned warrior who had just as much deadly skill as his assailants. He gave as good as he got.

But after so many beatings, Oliver was constantly on guard. The only moments of peace he found was alone in his cell, usually licking his wounds and slowly healing after the outcome of said beatings. He was not sleeping very much and the exhaustion from this was beginning to take its toll, slowing down his reactions and leaving him open to the kind of engagements that has currently left him out cold on the hard -packed dirt ground of the yard.

No one came to rescue him. He was like a toy being played with by the population. Even the guards were in on the abuse, laying bets on Oliver’s survival, on the outcomes of the small battles he was fighting and how many inmates he could take out before falling under the weight of numbers. As Oliver lay on the ground, it started to rain, mixing his blood with the dusty earth beneath him and creating scarlet streams of running anguish.

Oliver came to in the prison infirmary. He was stretched out on a small gurney and an IV was attached to his arm. He could feel a gigantic headache crashing through his brain as he came more awake. His left eye was covered by some sort of bandage and he had cotton stuffed into his broken nose. Oliver tentatively reached down and ran his fingers over the wound below his ribs. The area was covered by gauze wrapped around his chest. But he was breathing and had his senses about him. He had survived another encounter with inevitability.

There was only one other person in the room with him. It was another patient laying on another gurney across from him. Despite the bandages covering the man’s face, Oliver recognized him. He had been one of his attackers out in the yard. Oliver had taken him out of the fight early on, with a backhand to his face and a knee in his stomach. The man appeared to be asleep and Oliver ignored him. Then he caught movement to his left and turned his head that way.

The prison doctor---Simmons was his name, came into the room. He approached Oliver’s gurney and stood over it, looking down and shaking his head. “Mr. Queen, you are one tough customer. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone in my five years here who has taken as many beatings as you have and lived to tell the tale.”

Oliver directed his one good eye at the doctor. “Yeah, well it has been my MO for a lot of years,” he deadpanned his answer. “I have been through a lot worse than some inmates beating on me. I’m a survivor doctor, and I have learned over those years how to come back from the brink.”

“Well,” Simmons responded. “I’m pretty sure you can’t survivor many more of these types of beatings. But whatever you say. Despite having a fresh set of cuts and bruises, I think you can go back to your cell.” The doctor paused for a moment, as if he was contemplating giving some advice. “Mr. Queen,” he went on. “I’m not here to help you find your way. I don’t care if you’re here because you deserve this kind of punishment or that you being the Green Arrow is noble or even heroic. You are just another inmate I have to care for in this crazy jungle. But I just wanted to let you know that there is a movement going on in Star City by thousands of its citizens. They have signed petitions and have protested outside the local FBI office. They want you freed. After everything came out about the corruption and the way you assisted in ending that corruption---well, a lot of people think you do not belong in here. Maybe that will help you deal with what is happening to you in here and maybe it won’t.” He stopped his monologue for a few seconds and then finished his conversation with Oliver. “If I was a betting man, I would put my money on you.”

Oliver still showed no emotion, but there was a slight shift in his heart. It was a small touch of gratitude.

Later that evening, Oliver was stretched out on his cramped bunk in his cell. He had a notebook binder open and a pen clutched in his hand. He was about to start a letter to Felicity. He was having some difficulty adjusting his depth perception onto the page with his one good eye, but he knew what he wanted to say and fought through it.

Dear Felicity,

I know I usually write these letters for both you and William, but this one is just for you. I am not sure if these letters are getting to you, mainly because I haven’t received any from you since I came to this wonderful country club. Either someone in the chain of command is stopping them from reaching you or you don’t want to talk to me. If it is the latter, I completely understand. My guilt for not including you in the decision I made that put me in here still runs deep. You told me during my trial that we are married and that we’re supposed to protect each other. I did not give you that chance when I agreed to Watson’s terms. I am sorry for that. I don’t want you to think that my reasons were the same ones I latched onto two years ago when I kept you out of the loop with William. I told you that I wanted to protect you and William and I could not find any other way to do that except by assuring myself that even with me gone, you two would be safe and taken care of. Felicity, knowing that helps me sleep better at night.

Oliver stopped writing and read back what he had written. It seemed veiled and did not go far enough to let his part in all this play out. But he was finding if more and more difficult to let his guard down enough to make himself vulnerable, even to his own wife and child. When he wrote these letters, it almost seemed like he was a kid at summer camp, covering the highlights of spending time away from home, but not letting on how lonely he was and how much he missed his family. The headache he had all day was notched down a bit, but he had another ache that was much harder to endure.

It was in his heart.

Oliver closed his notebook, capped his pen and placed them in the storage netting on the side of his bunk. Maybe Felicity had decided to ignore his letters. Knowing her as well as he did, it sometimes took her a while to process trauma, especially when it was aimed at her, at the way Oliver blindsided her with his deal with the FBI. He knew she was angry at him, and rightly so. His life wasn’t the only one set adrift. She and William’s lives had been just as plagued as his. Oliver’s incarceration was a shock to his family and his guilt over everything brought bad memories of him not being able to look into Felicity’s eyes in their last moments before he was taken away. It was him not giving his wife, his soulmate a hug and a kiss. Oliver just could not let himself touch her. It would have driven him over the edge and reminded him what he was giving up. Felicity’s fear of losing him danced in her leaking eyes like a victimized affront. And that was Oliver’s deepest guilt. He once again shattered Felicity’s heart by keeping her away; by not letting her find any of her own comfort in a simple touch.

Oliver felt a tear leak out of his good eye as he turned over and started to search for a few hours of sleep. Rain was in the forecast for tomorrow and Oliver wanted to have enough rest to face it.

@it-was-a-red-heeler @memcjo @hope-for-olicity @almondblossomme @biermank @allimariexf @ajillgreen @silencehealth @mylittlesimba @cruzrogue @dmichellewrites @gabriellamarie97 @bandanab310 @wanhani @1106angel @omglovechrissie @marisatwit @swordandarrow @candykizzes24 @wordslovedreams @melolicity @starofaries

#oliver takes a beating #thinking about home #survival

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kottawrites · 7 years ago

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Burnt Out

JUSTICE LEAGUE 2017 MOVIE UNIVERSE

Barry Allen & Bruce Wayne (the rest of the team appear briefly)

Words: 2077

There isn't time to worry about blood sugars and metabolism when you are in the middle of a fight. Barry would just have to take the consequences.

The Justice League. The epitome of a of strength and smarts. Each member unique and yet when put together the work like a well oiled machine. Cogs all turning in unison. But that's not to say that they always work perfectly. If life is a learning curve, then forming a team of hero's to stop the forces of evil, well, that's a long harsh drop.

Over time they have worked out the kinks in their team. certain members leaning to hold back until a plan was formed instead of charging in head first. Others learning that they can depend on those around them. The feeling of what its like to actually have friends for the first time.

Learning that there are limits.

Training together during the day, getting the signal that the league is needed in the evening. Its a lot.

On a team made up of a goddess, an alien, an Atlantic warrior, a cybernetically enhanced athlete, Batman and a college kid who got struck by lightning- guess the weakest link.

Barry could feel that he was going slower, he knew he was almost visible to the human eye- more than just a red blur. He was starting to feel out of breath- since when did running make him breathless? He stopped briefly, resting a hand on his knee as we watched the rest of his team fight valiantly against their latest foe.

The league found themselves fighting some kind of large technologically advanced blob of an alien monster. The sort of generic villain thought up by a two year old with a decent imagination and access to an array of crayons. The blob was protecting itself with some kind of purple electronic field, which cyborg had just found the weak spot on.

Batman called in the latest model of bat-fighter-jet (the power of money) and was now shooting relentlessly at the the monsters shield. Superman flew through the air, heat vision focused on the weak spot. Dangling off each of his hands were Wonder Woman and Aquaman, sword and trident gripped in their respective hands, ready to slash the great monster through the middle once the opening was there.

The Flash could see it happen in slow motion. The shield broke. Arthur and Diana swung from Clarks hands, battle cries exploding from their mouths as their weapons broke the slimy skin of the foreign being. But instead of making a strong slice though their foe, they began to get swallowed up by the surface of the monster.

Barry moved with out thinking, Batman and cyborg weren't fast enough to help, Superman (as much as he liked to think he was) wasn’t fast enough either.

He was there in a second, only sharp shocks of lighting tracing his steps. He vibrated his body at such a rate that the monsters surface couldn't get a grip on him, he reached in pulling his friends out from the ooze. Then jumped back himself. All three of them fell to the ground harshly, tumbling and rolling before grinding to a stop. Victor, Bruce and Clark all charged up their weapons, and together dealt a finishing blow to the monster. It let out a shriek and eventually fizzled away to nothing.

Arthur and Diana get up from where they fell and brushed themselves off.

“Thank you, Flash, we can always rely on you to be there when we most need you.” Diana said as she stretched out her muscles, before she noticed her team mate struggling to sit up.

“Hey man, whats wrong?” Arthur said, hurrying over.

Barry managed to sit himself up, he held his head in his hands, eyes clamped shut- was he spinning around? Or was it just the world? Either way he felt sick to his stomach, and like molasses were being poured all over him . “Nothing, nothing I just-” he let out a deep breath “I need a second.” he tried to brush it off but he honestly just sounded pained.

“If you are not well, tell us whats wrong,” Diana said on her approach.

Bruce had now landed. He, Clark and Victor made their way over quickly.

Diana sat behind Barry, supporting his back and holding him up. Bruce knelt in-front of him an held a small light at Barrys face so he could get a better look at the speedster. His eyes were unfocused and his skin looked clammy. “Barry are you hurt anywhere?” Bruce spoke clearly and firmly.

“Only my pride.” Barry sounded like he didn’t really know what he was saying “I’m no match for you guys.” his words were slurred. His eyes rolled back and his head lolled to the side, Diana cradled his head gently.

Victor stepped forward, “Let me run a scan on him.”

Bruce put his hand up to stop him “I’ll take him back to my manor, we have the facilities there to help him, I have a feeling I know whats wrong. Speedsters aren't built to run on empty. Today has been rigorous, we all need time to recuperate.” he turned to Superman “Clark, if you could.”

Clark nodded. Wonder Woman lifted the speedster up with ease, handing him over to Superman who then flew off, up and out of the building.

“I’ll monitor his blood-sugars and make sure he eats enough to feed a small village.” Bruce continued. He seemed calm, but he was kicking himself for not taking in to account the speedsters needs first. He was aware that Barry was at risk of overdoing it, but never really took notice.

Barry didn’t do anything slowly. But waking up from the exhaustion induced sleep he’d fallen in to seemed to take forever. He was semi-conscious for quite some time, he could hear Bruce and Clark talking about what could have gone better on their last mission- listening to them be so serious was very… boring. It was sending Barry back to sleep.

Eventually Clark left, all Barry could hear after that was Bruce typing at the bat-computer. It was quite soothing, he couldn’t remember that last time he felt so calm. But he was also really starting to feel the need to move again, his fingers were twitching with the want to be active.

He groaned and opened his eyes, the batcave was brighter than he remembered. The light giving him a headache instantly. “What I would do for like fifty deep pan ham and pineapple pizzas right now.” He mumbled, voice sounding dry.

“I need to re-evaluate your membership to the league if you like pineapple on your pizza Flash.” Bruce stated, sounding an awful lot like he wasn’t joking.

“Don’t knock it till you try it- We cant all have caviar on our pizzas Mr.billionaire.” Barry ginned.

Bruce exhaled almost fondly in reply before going back in to serious mode “Don’t move too much, your hooked up to a specially mixed IV solution, it took a bit of work to make something to bring your blood sugar levels back to normal. Your metabolism is really something else.”

“I’m a freak I know.” Barry laughs and tries to sit up but he honestly still feels light headed, the laughter only adding to his headache.

“Try not to move for a bit longer. You really burnt yourself out.”

“You're telling me.” Barry rolls head back “I cant remember the last time I was still for so long. I don’t even sleep this long at night- power naps work wonders, even better when you're a speedster.”

“Yesterday-” Bruce began “-how long had you been without eating before the fight?”

“I don’t know- since second breakfast? Maybe? We were really busy.”

“And did you feel your blood sugar affecting you before the fight?” Bruce asked, lips tight in his usual frown.

“I guess. But we didn’t have the time to stop for anything. Its not like I can tell some gooey alien monster thing to stop for a time out ‘cause I gotta grab a pizza or ten.” Barry sighed, he couldn’t help but feel like Batman wasn’t far off of kicking him off the team. Why wouldn't he? He can move at super human speeds, sure, but hes scared of so much and hes the only one who seems to have a limitations.

Bruce was silent as he took in the information.

Barry braced for bad news.

He really didn’t want to leave the team. They were his first real fiends since… well, ever. He felt such a sense of belonging with them, purpose, like he was actually doing something good with his life. Fighting against evil forces. Instead of doing his best and running away before there was any real sense of danger.

“I've made some modifications to your suit so we can avoid situations like this again.” Bruce said, walking over to Barrys uniform, which was spread out on a table near by.

Barry didn't want to think about who got him out of the suit, and how they did so. He felt that it should be one of the only questions that he never found out the answer too. “

Pimp my suit!” Barry joked. When Bruce didn’t respond the speedster felt the need to explain himself- he spoke too much when he felt nervous “Y’know, like- Pimp My Ride? You ever watch that? Is that where you get your ideas for the batmobiles for?”

“Right.” Bruce said, he clearly hadn't listened to whatever Barry had just word-vomited.

He picked up one of the deep red arm guards off the table and showed it to the flash. He clicked a small button on the inner side of the piece of costume and a panel slid back revealing eight small balls. “These are energy balls. Alfred developed the recipe back when I first became Batman, they are extremely useful for giving your body an extra kick when you need it. He changed the mix so it could work with your heightened metabolism. If you ever need more we will keep a supply here, just say the word. But don’t eat these for snacks. I can tell you they don’t taste good and should never replace an actual meal.”

Barry blinked in surprise. He couldn't believe someone, let alone Batman, had done this for him. “Thanks.” was all he could muster, he felt quite speechless.

“-And” Bruce continued going back to the table “Press and hold here for five seconds,” He pressed an area on the left hand shoulder of the Flash uniform. Another compartment but this time on the right side of the outfit opened revealing a small injection. “This, is for emergency situations only. Its a mix much like whats in that IV, but with a concentrated dose of adrenalin also. Again, only use this if you feel it is necessary.”

Barry listened carefully. It was impossible not to listen to Bruce when he spoke in that serious tone. “Bruce, wow.” Barry sat up slightly, he felt his energy slowly returning. “I don’t know what to say. For once.” He chuckled “Thanks for looking out for me. Honestly I thought I was about to get the boot form the team, you guys really don’t need me holding you back.” the sadness in his eyes showed that he really meant what he said.

“Barry, you're stronger than you think and more important to this team than you could ever truly know.” Bruce didn't waste any time getting to his reply, he felt that the youngest of their team could use a boost. Years of being a father to Robins and support from Alfred kept him from being one hundred percent made of stone.

Barry nodded, his famously chatty and chirpy voice failing him. Overwhelmed by the care he had received and also still a bit woozy from recent events.

Bruce understood, silent communication made more sense to him that actual conversation sometimes. “When you're ready, let me know. I’ll call the other league members and we can discuss plans gong forward over dinner. We’ll order pizza, save Alfred cooking enough to feed your ‘snackhole’ as you put it.” Bruce smirked.

“Will do!” Barry smiled laying back, just five more minuets and he’ll be zapping around again no problem. He could listen to Bruce tying on the batcomputer for a bit longer.

He may be the weaker of the justice league members on paper. But he knew he was valued and just as important as his friends.

He could get used to this.

I Hope you enjoyed it! Please like/comment/re-blog to let me know your thoughts! This was originally posed to Ao3 in 2017.

#justice league #justice league 2017 #barry allen #the flash #fanfic #fanficion #bruce wayne #batflash

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emo4life · 7 years ago

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kdrama recs

i haven’t watched a kdrama in a long while, i think the last one i watched was oh my ghostess um but these are the ones ive seen and good and everyone should watch them

- the lover !!!!!!!!!!!!! (the gays , bless but the other couples are good too 😔 i cried but it’s so funny too like!!)

- reply 1988 (this was rlly long ..long eps and i didn’t finish it but i know how it ends and im SATISFIED)

- oh my ghostess (this had me STRESSED and the guy was so cute and concerned pls …a sensitive beefy man)

- descendants of the sun !! (people w tear ducts grab your tissues! jinki crying the whole time was a Mood™ :””( also the ending eps made me wanna SCREAM.. AND the couple is MARRIED IRL !!!)

- my love from the star (ICONIC ! LEGENDS ! the ending disappointed…a big let down but.. HES AN ALIEN !!)

- cheese in the trap (STRESSED.)

- WEIGHTLIFTING FAIRY (listen they love each other sm my heart hurts. also wow a beautiful couple ! and i think they had good subjects AND also the cameos ., my moon lover stan self was satisfied)

- boys over flowers (… i can never finish this …but listen the scene where they’re bullying jan di and burn her bike and - IT RLLY IS AN EXPERIENCE. the styling gave me a headache honestly.. horribly iconic also stand by me ????!! iconic AND almost paradise too)

- cheer up/ sassy go go (HAKYEON!!! omg also jisoo was in this and eunji pls this was cute and srs)

- MOON LOVERS (LISTEN. WATCH THIS I MADE MY FRIEND put it on and she was NOT having it and neither was i tbh the first ep confused ,,, BUT ALSO ? THAT SAME NIGHT or next day? WE FINISHED IT ENTIRELY??? THE EMOTION. POWERFUL.)

- w two worlds (this was fun and cute not a personal fav but it rlly was entertaining also THE ENDING !! me and my friend were played when watching this bc we thought there was an ep after idk ANYWAY lee jong suk is a handsome fellow the concept is rlly cool)

- masters sun !! (the lead actress is so pretty n cute i love her this SHOW was cute and had ghosts ! iconic ! i didn’t finish it i think bc seo in guk was making me sad 🤮😭 but def should watch)

- ITS OKAY THATS LOVE (LISTEN. i think this was like the first drama i watched…no one of the first and wow !!! again..THE EMTOTION. u just gotta watch ..it was long ngl and took me a while but ?? like !! also CHENS OST!! life changing and powerful where is that one edit of the cartoon kids crying to it)

- to the beautiful you (PLEASE SGSJDB THIS was prob the first drama i watched lmao lov u minho… idek what to say about this u gotta watch for the experience also i was STRESSED. like i never experienced this before also the second lead sgdjbdbd hes so cute shsh when he was imaging what they would do when camping poor kid lmao…anyway it’s just an experience also jinkis ost is so beautiful!! all the OST songs r !! also i still don’t understand WHY she had to go to korea like it seemed dramatic- )

- SHE WAS PRETTY !! (i rmr my friend kept telling me to watch this so i was like :| ok AND I DID AND DO NOT REGRET. I LOVE THIS DRMAA LISTEN. ! THEY LOVE EACHOTHER this and weightlifting fairy..tru love even tho well like in this one it’s more dramatic relationship wise bUT !! THE ENDING 😭 truly one of my favs possibly THE fav)

~~~

shorter web dramas i guess?

- exo next door (again …an experience. sehun and the coffee brother are legends that’s all i gotta say ! show stealing !)

- choco bank (CUTE!!!! im the debt.. I can NAWT rmr how this ended but listen i rmr i thought it was cute!!!)

- lilly fever (we love gays! please this was super super short the ending was weird i think svndbd but wow legends)

~~~

other ones ive watched but idk how i feel !

the producers (iu ..beauty! idk i could just never finish this i think i would just forget sgdjdb but it’s cute n funny ! there’s this one clip from it that made me SCREAAAAAM also heart by iu ?? one of my fav songs😔)

reply 1997 (LISTEN this ain’t bad wow i love the 90s and suspense BUT i couldn’t stand the older brother lmao)

hwarang (i watched like four eps… listen i love minho and taehyung and also that guy from she was pretty AND the king dude in this was cute but … i could not. like the plot needs to be FIXED the king dude deserves better idk i can’t rmr sgdjdb)

#kdrama #idk why i made this im bored scdbdbs ALSO like i just remembered everyone needs to watch these #wow i think these r all the ones ive seen ..wild #its not a lot i feel like #if i remember abother... i will add

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taegonia · 7 years ago

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the heir – pt. 5

Group : BTS

Member : Park Jimin

Word Count : 5,955

Description : It has been eight years, long enough for you to forget about him. But seeing your son everyday, who is almost a duplication of him, always brings back the painful memories of how the only one you had ever loved had died eight years ago. Killed by the police for being a criminal who had broken into a bank and kidnapped a hostage.

A/N : I finally did it! I finished part 5 after three days of sleepless nights! YAy me. *laughs maniacally while clutching to cup of coffee*

previous | next : coming soon

“Is she awake yet?,” Jimin asked, his brows pulled together as he pinched his own lips.

It had been an hour since you passed out and you hadn’t showed any signs of recovery yet. Even when the doctor had assured him that you were fine, Jimin refused to leave you alone until you roused from this unconscious state. At this moment, he needed you to stay strong and he needed you to stay strong himself.

“No, Sir. But she will soon, I promise,” replied his doctor. He couldn’t do much, except for giving you an IV and wait until you wake up, but no matter how many times he had told Jimin not to worry, your worried boyfriend would march in every fifteen minutes, asking the same question again.

Jimin ran his hand through his hair with a sigh. “Call me immediately when she’s awake, okay?” When receiving a slight nod from the doctor, he stormed out of the room again.

The moment you collapsed to the ground, Jimin’s heart sunk with you and almost stopped when you wouldn’t wake up. He would have lost his mind if it weren’t for his servants that acted fast and called the doctor while trying to keep Jimin away from the edge of hysteria.

As much as he wanted to stay by your bedside, he had to find your son, as soon as possible. He was determined to find him before you wake up, even if he meant to engage every of his servants.

But… where was that kid? Could he have run off to the street and gotten lost - or just hid somewhere in the house where nobody would find him? But then the cameras would have seen him wandering around.

Jimin shook his head. Screw the cameras.

They couldn’t catch his grandparents’ assassins, then they surely won’t be able to catch a little kid. So there was only one last option left.

He felt a prickle in his chest. This scenario was scaring him, and as he allowed himself for one second to imagine it to be true, an uneasy feeling of despair and anxiety filled his guts and send shivers to his fingertips.

It couldn’t be. There was nobody around here who could have done that, and there were guards around the house who would have seen it. There had to be another explanation behind Taeguk’s disappearance.

A random chuckle suddenly slipped out when he realized that your parents must have felt like this when he had kidnapped you nine years ago. He entered his office and his eyes instantly caught on the bright yellow post-it on the table. On it, written in Baekhyun’s neat handwriting, were the words: ‘I have a meeting with an old acquaintance. I will be back soon.’ Jimin frowned. Baekhyun isn’t supposed to leave without telling him, and he knows that. What was so important that he had to leave all of sudden?

“I want every house within walking range to be checked, every room scrutinized clean, you understand? Don’t you leave without making sure that my son wasn’t in there,” Jimin hisses, jabbing in the table with his finger to accentuate his words. His men, who are being ordered to search for Taeguk, are avoiding their boss’ sharp eyes.

“And I want one group to look in the forests. He could be in there, too” he added, before rising from his chair. “You will not rest until Taeguk is under my roof again, did I make myself clear?”

No answer.

“Did I?” A grumbling was the only reply Jimin got. “When Baekhyun comes back, tell him what happened. He will be in charge while I’m gone.” He stood upright again, his hands flying to his neck to adjust the black tie. Fidgeting with it, it helped him to prepare himself for what was about to come next.

But when Jimin barely exited the conference room, he saw in his peripheral view the doctor running up to him.

“Sir, she’s up,” he announced breathlessly.

–––

The last thing you had remembered was the butler’s voice as he admitted to having lost sight of Taeguk. The worst scenarios flooded your thoughts at once which included your son being in great danger, or the possibility of never seeing him again and having lost him in this big, foreign country. You felt hands holding you as you slipped to the ground before the world turned black.

You woke up with a headache pounding your skull and a sharp sting piercing the crook of your arm, followed by the noise of thumping, running footsteps entering the room.

Jimin.

“Y/N. Y/N,” his soft fingers brushed a hair strand off your face. “Baby.”

His face was scrunched up in worry, his hair messy from the many times he had run his fingers through them but you could smell the minty fragrance that was so uniquely him you would recognize it any day.

“How are you feeling?” He asked. You smiled back at him.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry,” you replied, bringing a finger up to trace along his jawline. “And stop frowning, it’ll give you wrinkles.”

“Well, you better get used to seeing me with wrinkles because you’re stuck with me forever,” he whispered, his hot breath hitting your cheek, and planted a kiss in the palm of your hand. His soft lips made you yearning for a second one.

“Is Taeguk…” You didn’t need to finish the sentence for you could read on his face that Taeguk was still gone.

“But I have sent off my men and they will find him, I promise you,” he kissed your palm again. “I’ll do everything to find him, I promise.” He gazed at you, studying all your perfect features and thinking about what a lucky guy he was to have you.

Staring back at him, you could suddenly see your entire future in his dark-brown eyes that were making you feel like coming home, whenever you looked at them. In Jimin’s eyes, you could see him standing by your side, like the moon always standing with its stars or the lightning forever followed by a thunder. Then there was Taeguk in between the two of you, with his pouty lips he had from his father. It was the perfect picture and just the imagination of it filled you with a warm feeling like hot cocoa on a winter day.

“I trust you. I trust you that you’ll find him, our son,” you whispered to him, emphasizing the last two words that brought a wide grin to his lips. “I have to admit, making you pregnant was a mistake I’m pretty proud of,” he said, earning an eye roll from you as he giggled.

“Come on, let’s get out of here. We have to––” You were about to sit up when he stopped him.

“We? You’re not going anywhere, baby girl, you stay here and rest. I’ll bring Taeguk back to you by tonight, I give you my––”

“No, I want to help finding him. I can’t rest knowing that he’s somewhere out there, among strangers, all by himself, without me or you to protect him,” you interrupted. “Teamwork makes the dream work, Jiminnie.”

“But you need rest. I can’t allow you to walk around just after you’ve passed out on me,” Jimin reasoned, stroking your cheek. You could see the adoration of him for you in the soft gaze he looked at you with but you knew better than to fall for it.

“No, I’m fine, really. I can walk,” you assured him but he shook his head.

“I love you, and I don’t want you to be exhausted so please do me the favor and stay,” he pleaded. Then you had the perfect idea how to get him.

“You’re gonna be by my side all the time, right? You’ll catch me if I fall, right? I know you will, that’s why I know I will be fine. Because you’ll be always there for me. So why do you worry that anything could happen to me when you’re there to protect me?” you laced your voice with an extra portion of sweetness and added a kiss on his cheek that finally disarmed him.

With a mix of a heavy sigh and a groan, he mumbled: “Fine.”

You sat up from the bed and Jimin nodded to the doctor to remove your IV. As the doctor did his work, Jimin was looking you up and down, checking to see if you were really fine or if he did have to forbid you to go, even if he knew it’d break your heart. He knew how much you yearned for Taeguk and that you would be stubborn enough to risk your health if it meant you could see your son again. But he could relate how you were feeling, and, if he had to admit, he would act just like you.

“Do you have a clue where we should start looking?” you asked him. Stretching his hand out to support you as you climbed off the bed, he said: “I actually do. He’s an old… acquaintance. Not in a good way, though.” Jimin filled you in about what orders he had given his men and about how Baekhyun was gone, leaving back only a note.

A scary thought suddenly entered your mind.

“J-Jimin, could there be a possibility that Taeguk’s disappearance is connected with Baekhyun’s?” It sounded strange and absurd, but what a coincidence was it that they both happened to be gone at the same time?

“Are you saying that Baekhyun could have snuck out Taeguk? Why would he do that?” Jimin said, and was right. There was absolutely no reason for Baekhyun to do such.

“I don’t know…,” you replied. “It was just a random thought, I guess.”

Jimin supported you as you stood up from the bed, keeping a hand on your lower back. As you crossed the hallway, every servant bowed to you and sent you a friendly smile that you shyly returned. When there was no one around, you turned to Jimin.

“Stop making them treat me like this,” you hissed. “I’m not royalty or anything.”

He smirked. “What are you talking about? Of course, you are. You’re now the queen of the house, that’s why they treat you like this.”

“Since when?”

“Since you came here? I told them what you mean to me and needless to say they immediately knew what to do.”

You rolled your eyes. “Really, I don’t need all this attention.”

He shushed at you. “Just shut up and enjoy it.”

When the doctor had come to get him and he was making his way to you, he had ordered his butler to get the car ready. Now, it was waiting for him and you at the front door. It was a fancier car than the one you had taken to drive to the Busan Tower. This one was royal blue, elegant and graceful and radiated a sense of prestige, as in saying: “I’m the superior here”. Of course, it was a statement Jimin only needed to express to specifically chosen acquaintances.

“Very nice,” you whispered as you stepped in.

“Not as nice as you, though,” Jimin replied, tainting your cheeks rosy.

The engine sprang to life and slowly the mansion slid into the background, soon out of sight even in the side mirrors. But looking into the mirror, you became suddenly aware of the clothes you were wearing, too casual for such an important visit. Your attire didn’t go well with the fancy car you were in or the fine man you were with.

But then a remorse hit you: how could you care about your appearance when Taeguk was still gone? Possibly getting farther and farther away from you with every second you waste on selfishly thinking about your looks. Everything that you should be thinking about now was to find your son, shabby clothes or not.

Jimin, on the other hand, had the time to change. The pink wig was gone, replaced by his natural dark hair that had been skillfully styled and was boosting his already existing handsomeness. Instead of the striped shirt and blue, fuzzy cardigan he had been wearing, he was sporting the most expensive looking suit you had ever seen, one that not even royalties could wear. Next to him, you looked like one of his servants.

As if he could read your mind, he intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing them playfully. “You look beautiful, as always,” he said, with a shy smile. Butterflies were flying kamikazes in your stomach.

“You don’t look bad yourself,” you smiled back. “But even nine years ago you already did.”

Jimin chuckled. Time had passed so fast. In one moment, he was with his friends, living in the middle of nowhere as exiles. In the next one, he had a son, a mansion and hopefully soon to be wife. He still remembered clearly the day you two first saw each other when he and Hoseok had broken into the Swedish bank you were working in. Thinking back to it, he mentally kicked himself for how rough and cold he had treated you, not knowing how you would soon share a future together.

Even until the present day, he still couldn’t believe how you had sacrificed your whole life for him. Instead of going back home, you decided to stand by him through every hardship, be it escaping the police or whatever, instead of running away and leaving the criminal and outlaw he was.

But the one thing he loved you most for was raising his son, instead of abandoning him or even aborting him. You weren’t even ready to be a mother, yet you took the responsibility on you and fought through all the years of being a single mother. If Jimin was asked who he thought was his strongest man, he would right away say your name.

The outside flashed by in a blurry as the car raced down the street, hurrying to get to its destination. Jimin could only hope that Suho was there, otherwise, he wouldn’t have a plan B.

“How is the funeral planning going on?” You asked him as the silence in the car got too heavy. You knew that the current mood was like a gray and rainy day, and there were many good reasons for it, but you didn’t want it to be.

“Uhm… fine, I guess. There is still some stuff I have to take care of, like which flowers to buy and how they should be arranged, or which slots in the cemetery to choose. But I should be done soon. I’ll get back to it once we found Taeguk,” Jimin replied, rubbing his eye like a tired kid. You could see the exhaustion on him, the sleepless nights following his grandparent’s tragedy. You wished you could help him somehow, relieve his burdens for him but you knew there was little you could do.

“If there is anything I can help you with, tell me. I don’t like seeing you like this,” you told him, squeezing his hand.

“Having you back had solved pretty much ninety-nine percent of my worries,” he said and shrugged. Your laughter brightened up the atmosphere at once, like a sunray cutting through the rain clouds.

“We are almost there, Sir,” the driver announced suddenly. Sitting up, you could see the tip of a castle-like building growing from the horizon. It was made of chocolate-brown bricks, the roofs being slightly darker than the walls but both hues still harmonized together. As you approached it closer, you could see the large windows engraved in the house, with glass that shone in rainbow colors if hit by the sunlight. The building was modest but still pronounced wealth and luxury.

“Okay, so, a little background information for you,” Jimin leaned over to you. “The guy were are about to meet, hopefully, is Kim Junmyeon, also known as Suho around here. He is the leader of our probably most bitter rival group, gang, family, whatever you call it, and we kinda suspect him of my grandparents’ assassination.”

You arched your eyebrows at the news. “Are you serious? So you think he might have Taeguk?”

Jimin tilted his head. “Let’s say it wouldn’t surprise me. Our relationship is pretty… severe. The only thing that would surprise me is how he knows that Taeguk exists.”

“But what if he does have Taeguk? How could we get him back?”

The answer was obvious. “Money, of course. Even when his family had always been our biggest competition when it comes to money, they could still never surpassed us. So I can imagine him wanting around eighty percent of my pesos.”

Eighty percent? Telling from how rich Jimin was, you knew that eighty percent was enough money to buy Hawaii.

“Hey, but don’t worry. I would give up every cent for Taeguk, Y/N. I’d rather be homeless with you and Taeguk than having to live without you two for the rest of my life,” Jimin brought your hand to his lips, pressing another kiss on its back. “You’re my everything, not the house or the cars.” You couldn’t believe that this was the same person who had tried to rob a bank because he was so desperately in need of money.

“What if Suho doesn’t have Taeguk?” You asked, releasing a shaky breath. “Jimin, I seriously don’t know how I could live without him. I-I won’t be able to do anything like eat or sleep or just basic human stuff because he isn’t there anymore and it will be like I have lost my soul and mind and I’d turn–” With a swift press of his lips on yours, Jimin silenced your stupid rambling.

Slowly and with expertise, he moved them against the roughness of your dry and raw-bitten lips, nibbling on them in a tease before you felt his tongue asking for entrance into your wet cavern, where it joins into a harmonized waltz with yours – a dance that stole the breath from your lungs and left you gasping for air.

When Jimin was so close to you, his skin touching yours in places only he had the privilege to, it felt like you were escaping reality for a moment and instead descended into a dreamland you two had made for yourselves and each other, a place you would like to stay in forever if you only could.

Your chest was heaving once Jimin pulled away, the lack of oxygen that his kiss had created had your head spinning and craving for more.

“I had promised you I will find Taeguk, Y/N, and I aim to keep that promise,” he pecked your lips one last time, then once on your cheek. Tingles strewed where he had touched you. “So stop saying nonsense.”

Right in that moment, the driver pulled up into the mansion’s driveway. which was as broad as a tennis court. Nobody was standing guard, like at Jimin’s place, making everything look deserted.

“Are you sure he’s at home?” You asked Jimin, who grabbed your hand as you stepped out the car.

“I hope so.”

–––

A maid was the first person you encountered as you rang the doorbell. She opened it and an expression of surprise and maybe also nervousness promptly plastered on her face.

“K-Kim Jimin, what an honor to have you here,” she said, forcing a strained smile. “If you are here to see M-Master Suho, then unfor–” Your hopes were already sinking as you listened to her words when a male voice behind the maid suddenly spoke out.

“Jia, let them in,” the stranger said. When Jia stepped aside to allow you and Jimin in, you were greeted by a man who looked like Jimin’s age, or maybe one or two years older. He had jet-black hair which was flipped to the back, revealing his bright, clear skin. His onyx eyes behind his round lenses were slightly squinting as he looked at you and Jimin. He had his hands clasped behind his back, showing that the dark suit he was wearing was obviously too tight for his broad chest.

“Welcome, Mr. Kim. We hadn’t expected you to pay us a visit today,” he said in a deep but coherent voice. His appearance radiated discipline and control like a powerful general in an army, and you now understood why Jimin had dressed up so much. He needed to be able to compete with this man in terms of appearance and avoid looking like the weaker one.

Jimin nodded at him. “I was hoping, too, that I wouldn’t have to come here today, Mr. Oh, but current circumstances required this visit.”

“I understand. And I see you have company with you,” Mr. Oh smiled in your direction. “May I ask who that fair lady is?”

The weight of the silky box in Jimin's pants was edging him to answer with the f-word but he held his tongue and simply said “my girlfriend”.

“Ah, I see. It is my pleasure to meet you, Miss,” Mr. Oh slightly bowed at you and you awkwardly returned the gesture. “Me too, Mr. Oh.”

“Shall we move this conversation into the guest hall, if you aren’t in a hurry, of course,” Mr. Oh suggested. You almost blurted out that you were indeed in a hurry and had no time to chit-chat-sip-tea but Jimin was faster.

“Of course, we have time to go into the guest hall.” When Mr. Oh turned around to lead the way, Jimin shot you a glance that said ‘trust me in this’.

The guest hall looked like King Midas had lived here a long time ago, because everywhere your eyes gazed, they were met with gold. Looking up, there was a golden chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Then in front of you, golden chairs and tables were standing around on a golden rug. Even the window frames were gold and the curtains, too.

“Master Suho has a thing for this specific color, you must know,” Mr. Oh suddenly said and it took you a few seconds to realize that it was directed towards you.

“I see,” you replied, still overwhelmed by all this blinding metal. Jimin guided you to sit down on one of the golden chairs and you almost thought it was possibly a small throne when you then saw the actual throne in the room, where Mr. Oh found his seat.

It was just a massive block of gold in the form of a giant chair, half covered with rare gemstones of all kinds of colors, and which sure must poke into one’s skin when leaning back.

“I do not want to waste your whole day, so would you like to inform me about the reason for your presence here?” Mr. Oh said, adjusting his suit and tie.

The mom in you almost sputtered out about Taeguk and him disappearing and how Jimin thought Suho might have kidnapped him, when you felt a gently squeeze around your hand, stopping the upcoming flow of words.

“We… we were looking for someone. A small kid, an eight-year-old. Brown hair and big brown eyes,” Jimin started, sounding almost nervous. Meanwhile, Mr. Oh was listening with a gleam of interest in his eyes, and a smirk tugging on his lips with every word Jimin voiced.

“No offense but we had the idea that Suho might have.. gotten him, the kid. So we decided to come here and to see if we might have been right,” he continued. You could only stare at him as he spoke. Even if he wanted to appear strong and dominant, this situation was forcing him into a position he had never imagined to be – a desperate father trying to find his son. And being in this position, he automatically had to yield to his enemies, whether he wanted to or not.

“Hold up, Mr. Kim. I think I might know what you are talking about,” Mr. Oh interrupted him, making both you and Jimin look at him in surprise and maybe even hope. The next words left Mr. Oh’s smirking lips in a crisp, ominous whisper.

“The heir.”

The two syllables rang in your ears like a dull song on endless repeat, before they finally made sense.

“How did–” Jimin ran his palm across his face. “How did Suho know?”

Mr. Oh simply shrugged. “He has his ways, I would guess.”

“But nobody knows, except for me! How could he had…” Jimin’s voice reached higher in anger.

The exposed truth still had you in shock and the aftermath was still rippling in your guts. It felt similar to the moment you had realized you were pregnant. But this.. this was something you could have been warned about, if Jimin had chosen to confide you in – yet he didn’t.

“If Suho already knows, then you have him, don’t you? You wouldn’t miss out on the chance of kidnapping the future heir of the infamous Kim family,” Jimin spit at Mr. Oh but he seemed unfazed.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you but we don’t,” Mr. Oh sipped at his tea. “I haven’t been informed about any plans of kidnapping your child, so I’m afraid you must look for him somewhere else.”

“Do not lie to me,” Jimin balled his hands into fists. “Let my son out of this rivalry, because it’s only between Suho and me, not my son.”

Regrets were slowly settling in you. This could have been prevented if you hadn’t come to here, if you had stayed in Sweden and gone somewhere else for vacation. All this trouble was created because cruel fate just had to make your path cross Jimin’s.

“Mr. Kim, I’m being absolutely honest with you right now. We do not have your son, nor do I know where he is or if he might be in Suho’s possession at the moment,” Mr. Oh spoke calmly. “And I suppose you will know about it, sooner or later, if Suho is indeed intending to steal your son away. As far as I know him, he would trade for a good price of money, which I’m sure you have. So don’t worry, Mr. Kim, you will get your son back at some point. Except you choose your money over family.”

You couldn’t stand listening to those two speaking about your son like a piece of good they could traffic with like on a street market. Even if you were still hoping Mr. Oh could somehow give you a clue about Taeguk, the way he was talking clearly indicated that he knew nothing, and that you were wasting your time here.

“Jimin, I think we should go,” you said, wrapping your fingers around his arm. He glanced at you. “But… they might really have him, or know where he is, at least. Suho’s agents are freaking savages, they see everything and–”

“Jimin.”

He stared at you, reading the unspoken words in your eyes before releasing a heavy sigh. “I tried, Y/N. I.. I don’t know where else we could look,” his voice midway broke, making your heart skip. “I want Taeguk back as bad as you, but I just… I have no idea where he could be.”

You cupped his clenching jaws. “Let’s go home. That’s all I want right now.”

He nodded and stood from his chair. You followed his example. “Thank you, Mr. Oh, for your hostility. We will make our way back now,” Jimin announced, his voice pretending to be strong.

“You know the way out, Mr. Kim,” Mr. Oh made no effort to stand up, which you found odd. He had seemed so polite the whole time. “I do wish for you to find your son again, but our families’ mutual history can not be erased because of one missing child. I’m afraid blood is indeed thicker than water, after all.”

You could understand the cold meaning behind those smooth and well-chosen words : For us, your son’s disappearance will be only an advantage.

Even when Mr. Oh had welcomed you so cordial, at the end of the evening he was still your opponent and he had to act like that.

“I see,” was all Jimin said, before he led you out. Mr. Oh’s eyes were trained straight, his index finger and thumb wrapped around the handle of his tea cup, as you walked past him. In this moment, he looked like a statue, having been fixed in this position on this spot for ages. This thought sent shivers down your spine.

–––

“Talk to me. I know you’re mad,” Jimin begged, his worrisome orbs staring at you but you refused to react. Your anger was palpable in the car.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I know I should have consulted with you, mention it to you at least and asked for your consent but I don’t know had gotten into me and made me make this decision without you,” he rambled in a voice that was filled with guilt and shame. “I know I’m such a bad… boyfriend, father, and that I have probably put our son in danger by doing this and I’m so sorry about it. My stupidity probably took control at the wrong time and place.”

You huffed and turned your head away. You knew you were acting petty, but you still felt insulted by Jimin’s deed.

“Say something, please,” now he was using his soft voice. The one that made him sound like a toddler. The one that was comparable to a puppy’s whine. The only one that could melt your iron heart.

“Jimin, what do you expect me say?” you exploded, whipping your head to him. “What’s done is done and I just have to live with it, I guess. But what made me mad, as you already noticed, was that you did this without me. I’m Taeguk’s mother, for God’s sake. How could you forget that I have a say in this, too?” Jimin lowered his eyes and said nothing.

“I don’t want to sound bitter about this, but I practically raised him all by myself, all these past eight years. I know it wasn’t your fault that you couldn’t be there, but you can’t just snatch him away from me and do whatever you want with him now that you have him.”

“I know!”

“Then how come you acted like that wasn’t the case?” You creased your brows. “I just… I just don’t understand it.”

Jimin’s hand brushed yours, lightly at first, but when you didn’t twitch, it wrapped around yours, holding yours firmly in its grasp. “I’m sorry, babe. I’m truly sorry,” his thumb was drawing circles on your skin. He still wouldn’t look at you. “I know that I fucked up and I wish I could redo it somehow and get Taeguk out of this.”

You wouldn’t tell him, but the image of your little boy being the head of the Kim house was scaring you. It wasn’t the future you had pictured for him, and if it became reality you wouldn’t know how to deal with it.

“Who would have become the heir if you wouldn’t have known about Taeguk?” You asked Jimin.

“Sooyoung would have been the heir if I had failed to provide one.”

“Do you think she is upset now that Taeguk is here? I mean, she was so close to becoming the heir.”

Jimin shook his head. “She is a sweetheart, she wouldn’t have hard feelings about it.”

Suddenly, the blinding light of streetlamps swooshed by. Dusk was setting in now, throwing a shadow over the city, and at the thought of the night, your heart grew heavy from thinking about Taeguk being alone in the dark, empty streets.

"I want to go back to Sweden. Soon." Your words surprised Jimin. He had expected you to stay here with him, preferably forever.

"But... but you just got here? And what about us? I can't leave my household here to go to Sweden," Jimin replied.

You shrugged. "I don't want to leave you either, but if it means that Taeguk is safe from dangerous gangs who'd like to kidnap him, I would do it."

Your baffled boyfriend was loss at words. "But.. but.. don't you want to be together with me anymore? I know Taeguk is very important to you and he is to me, too, but Y/N, I love you and the last eight years without you had been torture–"

"I know, and I was the one who had to live with the pain of thinking you were dead while raising a child. So I wonder who had suffered more," you countered.

Jimin sighed. "You think I wasn't missing you like hell? Knowing that you were there but I can't be with you or get to you was tearing me apart. There was not a day I didn't think about you."

"You know what? This wasn’t even about who missed who more. This was about Taeguk being safer in Sweden than here, which is why I wouldn't hesitate to leave with or without you, even if I hate to say that," you responded. "Even if I was dying inside, I still managed to survive the many years without you, and I'm sure I can go on for longer if I need to."

Jimin’s ringtone blared the second your sentence ended, startling you.

When he had fished it out of his pockets and looked at the caller, he mouthed: “Baekhyun”.

“Where have you been?” Your boyfriend immediately shouted into the phone. What Baekhyun then answered was incoherent to you so you could only watch Jimin’s face and guess what was being said, when suddenly his eyes ripped open and darted to you.

Afterwards, the car ride of only fifteen minutes felt like an eternity.

Your mind was a mess, turning and spinning at the news you and Jimin had received. You wanted to kiss fate but slap it in at the same time for playing such a joke on you.

“Hurry up,” Jimin barked at his driver who was already going dangerously beyond the speed limit. Under other circumstances, you would have told Jimin to calm down, but right now, you were just as impatient to get home as him.

The reason Baekhyun had called, was because a stranger had brought Taeguk back.

The stranger claimed to have found your son walking in the neighborhood by himself and was worried Taeguk might get snatched by some sketchy people, so he took the little boy with him into town where he allegedly bought him new clothes (fancy ones, Baekhyun said) and jjajangmyun noodles for dinner, before he brought Taeguk back.

That stranger was either the purest person to exist or a complete psycho.

But either way, you were still utterly thankful of him for taking such good care of your son. Your worries that something bad had happened to him were slowly fading.

Your heart began to race the moment the mansion appeared on the horizon. In the darkness, it was just an enormous shadow, all its fancy complexion invisible.

Before the car could come to a complete stop, Jimin was already pushing the door open and you followed suit. The guards at the door hectically ripped the front door open for their boss and attempted a quick bow which the racing Jimin probably missed. You managed to acknowledge them with a brief nod before you went inside.

Baekhyun was already awaiting you on the other side. “Welcome home, Sir.”

“Where are they?” Jimin asked breathlessly. You were panting as well, maybe from the running, but definitely from the excitement.

“In the guest room, Sir.” Baekhyun started to walk but Jimin was already running past him, pulling you with him by the hand. When you suddenly heard Taeguk’s sonorous, high-pitched laughter, your eyes started to tear up. You had your son back, safe and sound.

But unexpectedly, Jimin stopped at the threshold and you bumped into his back.

“Appa!” Taeguk exclaimed. You should have paid attention to why Jimin had suddenly stopped but when you heard your little boy's voice, you pushed past Jimin.

But when you finally sighted the stranger, the one who found Taeguk, your body froze to stone as well.

“Oh my god,” the stranger said, dumbfounded. He stared at you two through his round glasses, his jaw hanging open.

Over the years, he had changed a lot. He didn’t look like the rebel who was into bandanas that you had known, but now he was a grown man who had developed an exquisite taste for fashion, as visible in his clothing choice – black slacks paired with a burgundy button up, white cap toe shoes contrasting the two dark colors.

Never have you imagined him to look like this.

But when his lips pulled apart into a wide grin, the boxy smile verified that it was him.

“No freaking way!” Taehyung said, resonating a laughter so bright it lighted up the dark evening.

#the heir #syndromes part two #bts #bangtan boys #bangtan sonyeondan #bts scenarios #park jimin #jimin #jimin scenarios #jimin fanfic #kpop #kpop scenarios #bts smut #jimin smut #kpop smut

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animeniac · 7 years ago

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Starbomb Ch. 7

Fandom: BNHA Pairing: Bakugou x Uraraka; slight Izuku x Tsuyu Genre: Romance Chapter Summary: Uraraka doesn't show up to class. Bakugou confronts Midoriya about how he somehow caused Uraraka to run away, but he has no recollection of his "steamy" encounter with her. Late that night, he finally sees her again. (See Chapter 1 for story summary.) A/N: Sorry for the delay. Hurricanes and stuff. I don’t know if I mentioned this on here but there’s a possibility of a side pairing. [AO3]

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII

Bakugou had some choice words for the anti-gravity girl that sent him into the air not once but twice. In class the next morning, he leered at the door and everyone who passed through it. The moment he heard it slide open, he snapped his head around to see who entered. And time after time when he failed to see her round hair, face, and cheeks, he growled.

Initially, he assumed that she feared an encounter with him because of her transgressions. When the clock neared the start of class and the bell rang, he grew sick of the game that she had forced him into playing. The tension that spanned from his spine to his fingers and coursed through his veins had all been from her relentless attack, hadn't it?

She would pay.

The shrill bell of the end of class snapped Bakugou from his thoughts, and he needed an outlet for his hostility.

Midoriya crossed his path, and Bakugou pounced to corner him outside meters away from the door. Immediately, the green haired hero bowed his head and apologized, "Sorry for interrupting the other day."

Interrupting? Come to think of it, Bakugou had no idea what transpired before Uraraka fled. Narrowing his eyes at the ceiling, all he could recall was a decent workout; Midoriya entering; Uraraka pushing him into the air; her trembling back as she ran. That was it. Hesitant to ask, the blond figured that particular word choice to be impertinent to the main issue. "Didn't I tell you to go after her?" he reminded him.

"I couldn't find her," answered Midoriya, for he searched around the pathway up until the dorms before he figured that she wanted some time to herself.

Had Bakugou known his classmate's reasoning, he would have exploded. Fortunately, he used the time to try to recall the fragments of memory that he'd forgotten - the embrace, the bite, the almost kiss. They had all conveniently slipped his mind. Perhaps, his immature thoughts could not properly handle the depth of the raw emotions he had felt in those moments. The behavior all contradicted his vows that his association with Uraraka had been purely legal and self-serving to his bloodline.

And when she left because of Midoriya, Bakugou felt more than simply anger - loss.

Lost in his thoughts, Bakugou wouldn't have heard anything Midoriya had said within the past few moments if he said anything. "Why didn't you fucking try harder to find her? Tell me where she is now. Do you have some kind of pathetic crush on her?" he interrogated and with each question, his hand tightened into a fist.

Where did that last question come from? Midoriya's face reddened as he shook his head. "I don't know where she is, and I don't know if I have a crush on her."

Who wouldn't? Surely, a sappy, sentimental kid like Midoriya developed feelings for someone like her.

Snarling, Bakugou sneered, "Drop the bullshit."

Midoriya had yet to put his feelings into words, but maybe his concern and interest in Uraraka had developed into some kind of infatuation at least. He gulped. That tightness in his chest stayed with him along with the picture of ecstasy and intrigue painted across her reddened face. As a hero - no, as her friend, he just wanted her happiness regardless of who she chose to be with. "I," began Midoriya.

Their confrontation had gained curious spectators from class 1-A. After all, Bakugou decided to interrogate him outside of the classroom.

Iida interrupted, "You know, she was fine before you began harassing her." He believed that. Over the past few weeks, he sensed stress in her tense features.

Exiting the classroom with Kirishima, Sero caught sight of Bakugou and failed to read the tension of the scene. "Hey, you okay, man? We were just kidding yesterday. I don't care if you hang out with Uraraka," he interjected in an attempt to mollify the hostility.

Too many nosy people swarmed the area for Bakugou, so he barked, "Fuck off! Everybody. You know what? This isn't some kind of grand spectacle for people to chime in their fucking opinions. I don't give a shit what you losers care about what I do. Forget this." He backed away while staring down Midoriya. "You two can be all lovey dovey for all I care, but at the end of the day, I'm going to take what's mine."

He huffed and puffed as he stomped all the way down the hall and out the building. Midoriya and Uraraka laughing like kids - that's what he saw in his thoughts as he went up to his dorm room instead of the gym like he had planned. They might as well have been laughing at him, for that pit he had felt all day exponentially grew when he observed Midoriya's wide eyes and reddened cheeks.

Easily, he could have confronted her, but something subdued his typical hubris. His frantic thoughts tossed him, and of all the times he had lost control, nothing beat that afternoon. So he confined himself. These feelings that had flown asunder were more than just rage, and he only dealt with anger.

Surely, a loser like Deku liked a girl like Uraraka - that little cheerleading cutesy act was right up his alley. And that angered Bakugou. The pride he had felt when he drew the stick that promised her to be his partner faded into doubt that any of his plans would happen. At the end of the day, he loathed the idea of a love affair between the two. Yet, he felt the trajectory of events and fate nearly missed him and ensured the future of Midoriya and Uraraka.

Midoriya and Uraraka. His thoughts stormed as a premature drowsiness took over. If they liked each other, then what could an outsider like Bakugou truly do to stop it?

He groaned and put a pillow over his face to stop his heavy breathing for a few moments. The tension he felt had spread from his gut to his chest and then to his throat. Pain replaced his anger until he slowly fell asleep.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen of the commons, Asui hoped to catch Midoriya by surprise with a vanilla sundae topped with chocolate syrup and a cherry. Whipped cream, too. She didn't know everything about Midoriya, but after witnessing his Bakugou harangue him, she knew he would stew in his conscience. Surely enough, he sat at the table and stared down at the glass filled past the brim with ice cream and decadent toppings.

Within seconds after Asui clinked down the glass, he jumped and squirmed and stammered all in one place - much to her amusement. In response, she placed a finger on her chin and asked, "Are you trying to stall until it melts? You must not like it."

"No!" he squeaked in protest. "I'm really happy and surprised." Why would a girl make him a sundae? He would have never have guessed how to properly react to such a gesture. While he knew a simple thanks would have sufficed, he hurried the ice cream down his throat with a spoon.

Asui blinked as she sat next to him. "Don't drink it too fast, or you'll get," she began to warn until she observed the faded hue of blue cascade down his face, "brain freeze."

Midoriya leaned forward and rubbed his palm against his forehead. "I-It tastes good," promised the hero as he tightly grinned. Maybe such a treat could cure the troublesome encounter he had with Bakugou. In fact, he had already forgotten about the tense encounter in the wake of Asui's kindness. As an intense headache faded, his grin melted into a smile. His shoulders yielded to the largesse gesture of his partner, and he inhaled.

"Ribbit. You are pretty energetic sometimes," commented Asui.

"Really?"

"You're all over the place at once," she noted as she gently stretched a finger towards his face. Residual turmoil hung between his eyebrows and the slight tremor of the corners of his mouth had never left. Even as he bit his lip, she could sense every ounce of tension that radiated through the rest of his rigid joints. "Even now, I can tell everything that you're thinking."

Covering his features with his hands, he replied, "All over the place? I didn't notice." Peeking through the valleys of his fingers, he reluctantly and slowly dropped his literal guard and placed a hand on his lap as he continued to spoon more ice cream into his mouth. How could something cold cause him to melt?

And, he had a cute personality, but Asui knew not to say something like that. With the mere presence of ice cream and a friendly face, he somehow sprouted a smile and could shift his mood as easily as her younger siblings. She watched him finish the dessert that he rightfully deserved as she leaned forward on her open palm. Her large eyes wandered to the corner of his mouth where a sizeable dollop of whipped cream sat. Was he unaware?

By habit, her tongue pushed against her mouth and emerged to clean the goop, but she stopped herself with a hand and pushed it back. Even someone as nice as Midoriya would probably get put off by such an odd gesture. Her face heated, and she wondered why she would be that bold. "You have something on your face," she muttered as she averted her eyes and hoped he didn't see.

Midoriya saw, but he interpreted the gesture a lot differently than she feared. "She must have wanted some," he thought as he frowned at the emptied glass. Wiping Smoothly as he could, he commented, "This was really nice of you, Tsu. I guess I'm still hungry after all of that."

"If you'd like, I could make you something else," she suggested as she got up to return to the kitchen area. Asui frowned at the absence of her usual equanimity.

Midoriya apologized, "Sorry, no, I meant, we should go somewhere. You're probably hungry, too, right?" Was that an intrusive thing to ask? Girls probably didn't like to talk about their hunger. He wasn't sure.

In accordance with her buoyant, beating heart, she smiled, "But, I like making food for you, Midoriya." Maybe for that day, she wouldn't press him for introspection. Whether or not he liked Uraraka hardly mattered. She simply wanted his goofy smile to stay on his face for as long as possible.

"Tsu," he whispered with a wide smile. His chin pressed to his palm, he leaned forward and knocked over the glass. Scurrying to catch it from falling onto the floor, he somehow found Asui's tongue binding his hand to the glassware. Midoriya apologized as his heart raced, "Sorry! I wasn't thinking."

Asui released him. "Ribbit," she groaned. Why did she do that?

Bakugou made his way to the bathroom late one night. Surprisingly, he figured that he could sleep until the morning based on the heaviness of his eyelids and grogginess in his head. Maybe he had overdone it with his workouts that week. Yawning for the fifth time, he could hardly see through his blurred vision as he exited the boys' restroom. His drowsiness expelled the unpleasant thoughts of Uraraka from the day and his dreams until he saw her?

That cursed, revealing black tank top and those familiar navy blue shorts that she always wore to training had a different appeal for that time of night. His eyes shot open, and he had to use every muscle in his body to suppress the twitch of the corners of his mouth. Questions flooded into his mind. Raising a finger, he pointed and jeered, "Uraraka." However, he could think of no insult.

The curves of her face, thighs, and chest drew silence from his throat. The dramatic darkness of her squinted eyes would have been unflattering on most people, but on her, the contrast to her typically bright, brown and round eyes amused Bakugou. Where had that energy gone?

He stepped closer to her and tilted his head down so that he maintained an unbreakable stare.

"Bakugou," she whined. "I gotta go."

Bakugou slammed his hand against the doorway of the girls' restroom to block her way. No, he hadn't finished studying her yet. "Where the fuck have you been?" demanded he. He noticed that her face had regressed from its typical roundness and developed slight, deviant dips. If his audacity led him to survey the shape with his finger tips, then he knew he'd find an anomaly. He frowned as his eyes traced up to the tips of her paling, pink cheeks. Those had changed, too.

She jumped. "Bakugou," she repeated more shortly this time. "What are you doing?"

He dropped his train of thought and snapped, "Nothing."

"Come on," pleaded Uraraka as she squirmed and bounced in place. "Please, I can't take it anymore. I need you-"

Bakugou drew his hand back into his pocket and scowled, "Shut the hell up." He cursed his heart, for he enjoyed the desperation in her eyes a little too much. That jiggling dance she did definitely didn't help. Such desperation seemed all too familiar and evocative of a time they shared away in the dimensions of his dreams. His face grew hot with anger or something of the sort.

Without another word, she passed him. Instead of taking a step towards his room, he stayed still for more moments with her. As his observations gave way to his initial fury, he remembered just what had pushed him into a disturbed state of mind. He recalled watching her flee from behind in the gym the day before.

Fortunately, she returned and tried to pretend as if her tormentor had left.

"I'm not done with you! Why did you run away?" he growled.

Uraraka, without the energy to argue, reluctantly decided to engage in his interrogation. Her heavy head finally rose to meet eyes with his. She expected more of a hostile glare than a bitter, narrow-eyed stare. As she stood her ground, she could not recall the events leading up to her fleeing from the gym. "Run away? Didn't you tell me to leave? I've been sick," she answered both his questions as her chest heaved.

"Cut the bullshit. I didn't tell you shit."

Her shoulders slumped, and she finally admitted, "I don't remember."

Bakugou had few comebacks for that, for he had also forgotten. Earlier, Midoriya had claimed to interrupt something. "Deku showed up," he reminded her.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," she lied as sweat jumped from her face, for of course, she remembered Midoriya. Taking strides away to her dorm room, she avoided Bakugou.

That reaction - the renewed blush on her face and glow in her eyes. Did that confirm her infatuation with that loser? He couldn't sleep or stand still with that as the conclusion to their discussion. Reaching out, he meant to stop her, but once his finger tips touched the cold, soft surface of her triceps, his eyes dilated and heat climbed up his hand to his body and engulfed his entire face.

Racing heart, sweaty palms, he snatched his hand back as if her skin were molten lava.

He remembered.

Without dignifying him with eye contact, raw rage grew in Uraraka's eyes. She suddenly remembered as well. Midoriya had seen everything, but it wasn't her fault. It was Bakugou's. "What you did was unforgivable and weird," she muttered loud enough for only him to hear. The spot on her collar bone where he had marked abruptly sparked a hot sensation that spanned her entire body.

She remembered, and she had enjoyed it.

Bakugou had no chide remark to spit back at her, for she was right. Searching the words of his vocabulary, his teeth tightened to hiss an unorthodox term that had only passed his lips a few times in his life. Of all the instances to say it, he would have said it in that moment because truly, and he wouldn't willingly allow himself to lose control like that again.

He watched as her head fell back, and her body fell towards the ground like a toppling tower. Without a second thought, he caught her by the shoulders. The light had left her face like a new moon. Her eyes had shut and became illegible. A frown mounted on her lips complemented the solemn serenity of her empty profile.

Grimacing, he scoffed away his tension. His roaring thoughts and heart had mostly calmed, and he focused his energy on finding a place to dump her unconscious body. Lacking the tact of the conventional hero, he began to drag her backward towards her dorm. Uraraka Ochako.

Bakugou kicked the door open with the bottom of his shoe and entered her austere room. While she had a few clothes on the floor, some might assume she kept her area neat. Her barren, blank walls and solid, tan bed sheets lent to a completely neutral feel. Save for a few objects designed for organization, she had the bare minimum.

Tossing Uraraka onto her bed, Bakugou would have immediately left if he didn't catch sight of a sheet of notebook paper on the wall with his name on it. He scowled and put his left knee on the bed next to Uraraka's sleeping body to lean forward and get a closer look. "Bakugou and Uraraka 100% Friendship Compatibility! Perfect Match," he read next to a drawing of chibi, anime versions of themselves happily standing next to each other. He noticed a full, brightly red colored meter at the bottom beneath a somewhat intricate time graph.

He scowled, "They must have done this behind my back."

A few days before the arcade trip.

Uraraka sat in Kotone's room playing Super Smash Brothers and miserably losing. She hardly put as much heart into it as Bakugou or Kotone for that matter. Rubbing the back of her head, she apologized, "Sorry, I guess I'm bad at video games." Nonetheless, she enjoyed the energy of the room, and she always delighted in seeing Kotone.

Bakugou had gone to the restroom for longer than usual, so Kotone turned to Uraraka. They obviously wouldn't have much fun playing just video games. "Can I show you something? I want to know what you think," she casually suggested after staring at the door for a few moments. Kotone stood up before hearing her response, for time was of the essence.

"Sure," responded Uraraka as she stood up as well.

Kotone pulled a sheet of paper from her drawer and laid it out on the desk. "I never told you what my quirk was," she began. "I can hear hearts, and that tells me a lot."

"That's really cool, Kotone," she cheered before she spotted the contents of the paper.

While the girl smiled at the compliment, she wanted to be quick. "Hearts tell me a lot about people. I can hear their fears, happiness, and their sickness. Sometimes, when I hear two hearts together, I can figure out their compatibility, so I drew you and Bakugou's chart."

"Friendship compatibility, right?" Uraraka corrected her.

Pausing, Kotone then nodded.

"Really?" Uraraka grinned. "Lemme see that." She saw the ups and downs of their rhythm like an EKG monitor. Smiling faces were drawn between certain points. Although the hero-to-be could not properly understand the correlations of her student's logic, a light and flighty sensation fluttered in her heart. "100%"

"You two are really happy when you're around each other," explained the girl with a soft smile and blush on her cheeks.

Furrowing her brow to read, she looked up to ask, "Bakugou's happy?"

Kotone's eyes widened at the sudden shift in Uraraka's heartbeat - a habit that she knew that she needed to suppress one day. People usually didn't like to hear the meaning of their own hearts, so any indication that something had changed could cause conflict. Regardless, she smiled again. "Yeah," she nodded, "And, so I mapped out your hearts when you guys are together."

"Wah!" squealed Uraraka. "This is amazing!" Pointing to the first happy face, she asked, "W-When did this happen?"

Thinking back, Kotone remembered, "That's when you helped me with my history. I think you answered my question before Bakugou."

"He was happy about that?" she asked, for, at the time, she figured her eagerness to jump in annoyed him. Eagerly pointing to the second smile, she asked again, "How 'bout this?"

"Uh," Kotone stammered to keep up with her zealous attitude, "That's when he handed the controller to you."

"Maybe I was nervous instead," Uraraka suggested. There were more times, too, but in that moment, she reveled in the fact that there were any happy moments at all. Not that she could admit that she was particularly happy around him. In fact, that was far from how she'd describe her sentiments. Maybe fascinated.

To say the least, Uraraka's slight denial disappointed Kotone. She thought that her mentor would readily acknowledge any bit of joy that she felt around Bakugou. One of them had to, or else nothing would come of such a wonderful tune.

Uraraka's eyes glowed as she continued to study their personalized heart map. Her cheeks full of joy, she continued to grin when she praised, "You have a really good memory, Kotone! C-Can I keep this?"

Kotone nodded and waved her hands like a music conductor. "It's nothing, really - like listening to music. Your hearts make catchy music," she giggled as she rose her head to reveal her blue eyes through her black bangs.

They both had more questions.

Upon closer inspection, Uraraka noticed small, simultaneous jolts on the graphs. "What are these?" she asked.

"That? Oh, um, that's just," Kotone began, but she wasn't sure what to answer without sounding too intrusive. After all, no one truly liked for her to expose their deepest thoughts and feelings. She often tried to merely scratch at the surface. Otherwise, she would lose friends and alienate those around her like she had already accomplished in her young life. Moreover, she respected Uraraka to the degree that she didn't want to dig too deep.

Fortunately, Bakugou slammed the door open. "What are you losers talking about?" he frowned.

"Our game strategy!" cheered Kotone as she stealthily slipped the paper into Uraraka's binder. "How about we team up against you - 2 vs 1?"

"That's fair. You're not gonna beat me without a handicap," responded Bakugou as he sat in a purple beanbag chair in the corner of the room. He stared at Uraraka despite the fact that she hadn't challenged him.

When their eyes met, she nodded, "You're on."

In her head, Kotone noted, "There it is." That was the jolt that Uraraka had noticed earlier. Whenever Bakugou and Uraraka exchanged glances, she could almost guarantee that she would hear that familiar downbeat. At the young age of 12, even she could deduce what that meant, for only few heart harmonies had such a rhythm accompany such a happy melody. Closing her eyes, she heard the chorus return, and she smiled.

In his project partner's bedroom, Bakugou seethed as he knelt on Uraraka's bed above her. Initially, he thought to grab the paper, but more effectively, he could grab her. His rigid fingers sprawled as he reached the center of her face. And when his palm met her nose and his finger tips grazed her forehead, he pulled back once again.

She was hot. Not in that way - well maybe in that way, but he hadn't thought of her like that yet. Her skin was hot in the way that warranted concern.

The girl must have been sick, and thus, she had become his responsibility.

All that time, she had been suffering in this room alone and sick. "How could you?" Bakugou cursed with a twisting tension in his chest and a contorted scowl on his face. He had felt that helplessness on the train before. Moreover, how could he be blind enough to overlook the withering constitution of the person he had planned to marry? Just how sick had she been?

His hand hovered over her arm as he thought to shake her from her sleep and admonish her and force her to the infirmary, yet upon witnessing her heaving chest and reddened skin, he reconsidered his tactics. Sweat collected on her forehead as she furrowed her brow and stirred. Dark circles under her eyes, she tightly shut them as she not-so-peacefully slept. This stupidly sick girl was in no condition to walk herself. Even the student hero that only thought about beating villains knew that.

Pulling her arm, Bakugou awkwardly and as carefully as he could, placed her over his shoulder. He had no idea how critical her condition had become, so he erred on the side of caution by slowly proceeding to the door. "Fucking shit. You better not tell anybody I'm doing this," he warned the unconscious girl in a low murmur. While Bakugou may have thought of her as a foolishly stubborn and robust, without knowing her exact ailment, he treated her limp body a bit more tenderly than what was conventional for him.

What a troublesome idiot.

Sometime later that night, he reached the clinic. According to Recovery Girl, she had a moderate case of malnutrition and dehydration. All in all, she would fully recover with enough rest, food, and water - essential stuff for daily life along with the nurse's quirk.

Bakugou fumed as he overlooked Uraraka sleeping peacefully with an IV feeding into her arm. The sight wrung his gut as he bit his lower lip. She probably spent her money on that loser Deku instead of food or something. Moreover, she had too much pride to come to him for help. He would have figured something out despite literally having just enough money to cover his meals until his next allowance.

Allowance.

Whipping out his cell phone, he dialed his mother's number as quickly as he could. "Oi, I need money," he tersely greeted as he shut the door to the clinic behind him. Leaning against a wall, he slid down to sit.

"Katsuki?" Mitsuki answered from the other end. She spoke considerably louder than was necessary. "It's 4 am. Are you okay?"

"Just give me some. It doesn't have to be a lot," he paused to still his gravelly voice. "I need it for the girl I'm going to marry."

She shortly questioned, "What?!"

"Shut up about it," Bakugou ordered.

"You're telling me that a girl is not only dating someone with your attitude, but she agreed to marry you? She must be pretty tough for that to happen," she said with a chuckle at the end of her tone. "Masaru!"

"Hurry up. Pl-" began Bakugou before he corrected himself. "Now." With that, he turned off his phone and buried his face into his hands. Uraraka was tough - too tough like overcooked chicken. And stubborn like an untamed steed. That was why he decided to not lose her to anything or anyone including the likes of Midoriya.

#bakugou x uraraka #kacchako #kacchako fanfiction #katsuki bakugou #ochako uraraka #midotsuyu #slight

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illuminateshawnn · 8 years ago

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try again {part iv}

masterlist

i. ii. iii.

word count: 1,494

Shawn and I were closer and more open to each other than ever while trying to cope with the pain of the adoption not going through. We tried to avoid the room we had prepared for her, but it was hard since we had to pass it to go to our bedroom. The pastel pink room with flowers all over the walls and a half way finished crib in the floor stayed closed off. If the door was closed at all times, it made it easier to ignore the nursery made for a baby that never came home with us.

Sometimes, though, when I walked by I only hoped that we could bring our baby home from the hospital and that could be their room. I hoped for a baby every day. I had started treatments for infertility once again. Our only other option at this point would be in vitro fertilization or having a surrogate mother. Shawn and I didn’t like the idea of the latter so I continued taking the medicine and if it didn’t work, in vitro fertilization was always an option. I started to take my medicine for the day, when I noticed the bottle was empty. One day without it wouldn’t hurt anything. If I was going to get pregnant, it would have already happened by now. At this point, I was just hoping for a miracle.

I called the clinic and made an appointment for the next day. I had to go to the clinic before the medicine could be filled. They wanted to make sure the medicine wasn’t harming me in any way, everything was still normal with my body, and the side effects I was experiencing were normal.

Thankfully, Shawn had gotten to spend a lot of time at home over the course of the past few months. Touring was put on hold even though I encouraged him that I would be okay. But Shawn insisted that he stay home with me, to be there for me whenever things got rough. Sometimes, I would think about the adoption failing and let it get the best of me. Other times, I would have dreams about having a family with Shawn. When I woke up with small tears escaping my eyes, Shawn was there for comfort. I was thankful for his presence and his soothing. I knew he would never admit it, but I think he needed to be comforted as much as I did. He had been greatly affected too, so I knew he was going through the same pain I was.

I plopped down beside him on the couch, it was already afternoon and we were both still in pajamas. He was watching a tv show which he stopped paying attention to due to the kisses I left on his cheek. His skin was soft and it made me not be able to pull away from him. I continued kissing his cheek and now the rest of his face too. He diverted his attention from the tv to me as I kissed his soft skin that had a tiny bit of stubble growing out. Shawn turned towards me, pressing his lips against mine softly. We both smiled into the sloppy kisses shared between us. He rubbed his thumb over my bare thigh while kissing me. We both tried to stop kissing multiple times, so we could talk, but we couldn’t bring ourselves to it. Lazy kisses with Shawn were one of the greater things in my life. When Shawn finally pulled away, I pouted slightly.

“Do you want to go do something tonight? Maybe go out to eat?” He asked. His hair was a mess from my fingers running through it while kissing and from not bothering to fix it today. His eyes stared directly into mine and I had to fight off a smile while admiring his looks.

“Uh, I’m not really sure. I haven’t been feeling great.” I admitted. It wasn’t a lie to keep from going out, I really hadn’t felt well today. My head had been pounding agonizingly. I was sorta nauseous too, everything I smelled made me feel like vomiting.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, licking his lips and furrowing his eyebrows. He was always concerned with me and my health, I loved that about Shawn.

“I’ve had a headache and been a little nauseous.” I told him. A grin crept on his lips and I knew I looked confused. He smiled so hard that his eyes crinkled at the edges. “What?”

“Couldn’t be pregnant, could you? I mean I’ve been home every day for the past few months. We have been trying, you know.” When were we not trying? I shook my head at Shawn’s ridiculous question. There was no way. We had been trying, but we had done that for years and it didn’t work. Why would it now? He had been home more often than before, but how could that make a difference?

“Yeah, real funny Shawn. Maybe it’s even twins!” I said sarcastically. He shook his head at me before pulling me into his chest and then kissing my forehead. “I really don’t feel well though.”

“Looks like we’re staying in then.” Shawn announced with me cuddled into his chest. I’d never tell Shawn, because he liked to go out so much, but staying in with him was much better than going out. I loved laying against his chest and hearing his heart beating. Especially when he had his shirt off with his chest bare and our skin pressing together, like we did right now. A night in, cuddling with Shawn sounded much better than going out.

“Hello, Mrs. Mendes, how are you today?” my endocrinologist asked. I sat and fidgeted on the white paper covering the doctor’s office bed, hearing it crumple underneath me. My legs were too short to reach the ground, so they swung freely in the air. No matter how many of these appointments I went to, I always got nervous. And when I was nervous, I couldn’t be still.

“Great,” I assured, a faint smile on my lips. My doctor was always friendly, but every time I came in I was reminded why I was here. No matter how hard Shawn and I tried and tried again, we couldn’t have a baby. That was the sole reason I was here.

“Any unusual side effects since the last time we saw you?” She continued on with more questions then told me they needed to do a test on my urine, just to assure everything was normal, which I of course obliged to. I walked into the bathroom still feeling nauseous like yesterday.

I sat in the small, square, white room while I waited for the doctor to return with the results. Time in the doctors office always seemed to pass more slowly, so it seemed to take ages for her to return. I could hear the sound of commotion outside and the annoying sound of a clock ticking in this silent room. I was about to text Shawn, when I heard my doctor speaking to someone just outside the room, indicating she was about to come in.

“Ma'am, have you taken a pregnancy test recently?” The doctor asked, bursting through the door. I paused and raised my eyebrows, thinking she was joking.

“No, I haven’t. Why?” First Shawn was suspicious, now the doctor? I told her about the headaches and the nausea, but she said there could obviously be other causes.

“The results from your urine sample are showing that you’re pregnant.” She told me. I can’t imagine what my face looked like in the moment. The expression I wore must have been photo-worthy. The look of surprise, shock, and happiness all mixed into one, that’s what it had to look like.

“Wait, you’re kidding, right?” She shook her head. I took in the information and once my mind processed it, I felt the biggest smile spread across my face.

I left the doctors office feeling as if I was on cloud nine. A dream I thought would never come true was finally happening. I drove home but Shawn wasn’t there, it was unusual for him to not tell me when he left the house. I shook it off because nothing could ruin my mood at the moment. I made lunch and waited for Shawn to return.

I ate my lunch and placed my hand under my shirt, on my stomach while doing so. I imagined what baby Mendes would look like. I wondered if it would be a boy or a girl, but that didn’t matter. I thought about names and the little nicknames Shawn would make out of whatever name we chose. We would finally get to use the nursery. We would finally a bring a baby home. We would finally have a family. Shawn and I would be finally be parents. Oh, how I couldn’t wait to tell Shawn the news.

#shawn mendes au #shawn mendes series #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes writing #shawn au #shawn imagine #shawn fanfic #shawn fluff #shawn peter raul mendes #shawny #this kinda sucks #but the next part will be better

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brettonio-one-chicago · 8 years ago

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Heartbeat Song

A/N: Sorry for the delay... I’ve been planning this one for a bit now, and I’ve had some help this time around. A huge thank you to @magnificentkidstarfish for your input! Hope y’all enjoy it. It’s way different than what I’ve normally written. Will also be really long... so, click on the ‘Keep Reading’ to get into it.

Kelly was walking past the ambo when he could hear a large amount of cussing coming from the back of it. He looked around. He knew that Gaby and Casey were making lunch, but he hadn’t seen Sylvie in a while. He knew the others were in the main room watching TV. He knocked on the back of the ambo. “Brett?”

“Go away.” She muttered.

“Not gonna happen. What’s going on?”

“Go away.” She reiterated.

He wasn’t going to give up. He tried to open the doors but they were locked. He went around and hopped in the driver’s seat. He looked into the back of the ambo. IV tubing was strewn across the back. There were packages of 4x4s and other gauzes on the gurney, and Sylvie was leaning forward, head on the gurney, sobbing. She never looked up. He sighed. He saw the side door was unlocked, so he slipped out and went around and got in the side door.

Sylvie’s head shot up when he closed the door. “Which part of ‘go away’ didn’t you understand?”

“The part where a friend is crying in the back of an ambulance that looks like a war zone.” Kelly sat next to her. “Talk to me... please.”

Sylvie wiped her cheeks and nose. “Why?”

“Because you look like hell... you haven’t been yourself the last couple days.”

“Yeah... well... I think I found out why.” She reached into her pocket. She hadn’t planned on telling anyone. She didn’t even know what to do with the news herself. “Here.”

Kelly took the small object from Sylvie. He flipped it over. “Is this was I think it is?”

“It’s an ICON.” Sylvie sniffled. “I’m pregnant.”

Kelly looked at her, mouth agape. “Seriously.”

She nodded slowly. “And... I don’t know what to do... hence the disaster in here.”

“Uh...” Kelly cleared his throat. “Is... Antonio?”

Sylvie’s tear filled eyes stared into his. “Yeah... it’s his baby... and with everything that’s happened, I have no fucking clue what to do anymore.”

Kelly handed her the pregnancy test back and pulled her into a hug. “Just breathe, for now.” He rubbed her back. “Breathe... and cry if you want to.”

Sylvie wept openly into his chest. The tears drenched his shirt. Her whole body ached from the sobs. “I’m sorry, Kelly...” She tried to breathe. “This isn’t your mess.”

“No... but you’re a friend... and I’m not exactly a guy to let their friends go through this kinda thing alone.”

“Thanks.” Sylvie hiccupped.

Kelly smiled. “You tell anyone?”

“Just you... and April... at Med... she’s the one who ran the test.” Sylvie whispered. “I... I didn’t want to tell Gaby... she and Antonio don’t have secrets.”

“You... you don’t want Antonio to know?” Kelly scratched his head.

“I... I don’t know... I know we... we took a break... but...” She sniffled again. “I don’t want him to... to come back... just because of a baby.”

“Sylvie... I don’t think that’s the only reason he’d come back. A blind man could see how much you two cared about each other.”

“If he cared so much... then... why did leave... tell me he wasn’t good enough... let Laura drive a wedge between us.”

“I wish I could give relationship advice, but I’m not exactly the best guy for that.”

“I... I don’t want to get rid of it... but... I’m terrified to go through this alone.”

Kelly sighed. “How ‘bout I start by helping you organize this and then you just focus on the job for now... and maybe after shift... you and I can talk about this, with no chance of interruptions?”

Sylvie wiped her tears on her sleeve. “Okay... sure.”

Kelly grabbed the 4x4s and started putting them back in the compartments. “You’re gonna be fine... just make sure Gaby doesn’t catch on...”

“I’ll blame it on bad sushi.” Sylvie chuckled.

“Yeah, well no more sushi, or booze...”

“Yes, Dr. Severide.” Sylvie smiled. “I know... I am a paramedic after all.”

He closed the cabinet. “There...”

The alarm sounded. “Ambo 61, Squad 3, Truck 81... 3 car collision...”

“Right on time.” He patted her shoulder. “See ya there.”

Sylvie unlocked the back of the ambo and hopped out. She got in the passenger seat as Gaby ran up to the driver’s side.

Gaby gave her a weird look. “You okay?”

“Yeah... just was checking inventory... and dealing with the side effects of bad sushi.” Sylvie rubbed her stomach.

“I told you not to hit that place... last time Casey and I did, we ended up sick for two days.”

“I will listen to you more often when it comes to take-out choices.” Sylvie chuckled. “Let’s just get there... 3 cars never ends up being a good thing.”

By the end of the shift, Sylvie was beat. Between calls, she’d spent a majority of the time in the bathroom. Luckily for her, they all were buying the bad sushi excuse. She couldn’t wait to get home. She’d texted Kelly to meet her there, that she just wanted to go home.

Once home, she changed into some pyjamas and wrapped herself in a blanket. She was flipping through Netflix when there was a knock at her door. “Who is it?”

“Severide.”

She got up and went to unlock the door. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He handed her a bag. “Gingerale and crackers... I was told they’re a nausea cure all.”

“Thanks.” Sylvie smiled. “I was out.”

Kelly came in and closed the door. “How was the rest of shift?”

“Well, luckily everyone believes the bad sushi excuse, but I don’t think I can keep using that for the next 9 months.”

“9 months?” Kelly arched an eyebrow.

“Well... to be honest... it may be less than that.” Sylvie popped open one of the cans of gingerale.

“Not to be nosey, but... how long since the last time... you know?”

Sylvie thought back. “The day Laura caused the rampage at 51.”

Kelly did the math. “That was 2 months ago.”

“So... more like 7-8 months.” Sylvie sighed. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do... I can’t risk staying at 51 when I start showing.”

“Well... I’d suggest talking to Chief. He’d understand.” Kelly took the bag from her and put it in the kitchen. “You... you really want this baby?”

Sylvie took a sip. “Yeah... I do... I... was adopted as a child... wish I had known my birth parents... and... as much as I could probably give a baby up for adoption... I don’t want him or her asking questions 20 years from now.”

“Fair enough.” Kelly sat by the counter. “And you’re sure you don’t want to tell Antonio?”

Sylvie nodded. “If he comes back to me... if we get back together, I want it because he loves me and not because I’m growing his baby in my uterus.”

Kelly chuckled. “That’s that the most romantic way I’ve heard a pregnancy described.”

Sylvie shook her head. “Kelly... I... I’m at a loss. The person I’d tell about this... ask help from... is the father’s sister... I don’t want her to know because she’ll go blabbing to him... or she’ll hate me.”

“Why the hell would Dawson hate you?”

Sylvie glared at him. “Really? You have no idea why she’d hate me?”

Kelly shrugged.

“She lost the baby... then they took Louie away...”

“Shit.” Kelly bit his lip. “Yeah... I can see your point.”

Sylvie sighed. “I may not be able to drink, but you can have some beer... it’s in the fridge.”

Kelly smiled. “Uh, thanks... you eat today?”

“I tried... didn’t keep much down.”

“How about I order out?”

“I can try to eat something.” Sylvie drank more gingerale. “Any good soup places?”

“I know a couple that will deliver.” Kelly popped open the beer. “Chicken?”

“Please.” Sylvie took one pack of crackers and began to nibble on them. “Hey, um... Kelly... I know that some women can do this whole pregnancy thing on their own, but I... I really don’t want to.”

Kelly looked up from his phone. “What exactly are you asking?”

“Could you be my pregnancy buddy?”

Kelly thought about it. He had volunteered to be Shay’s baby daddy back then. “Sure.” He put his phone away. “Food will be here in about 30 minutes. In the meantime, what’s good on Netflix?”

Antonio was at Molly’s like he’d been for the past few months after he got off work. He wasn’t drinking but he just liked being there. He looked down at his glass of sweet tea and sighed. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore. Laura had limited the amount of time he could spend with the kids since her blow out with Sylvie.

“Hey, ‘Tonio... you okay?” Gaby came up to him, wiping a glass.

“Uh... what?” He shook his head.

“You okay?” She put the glass and towel down.

“I don’t know.” He finished his drink. “How... How’s Sylvie?”

Gaby sighed. “I don’t know. She was real messed up after it first happened... hell, she was gonna marry some random guy when Kidd and I took her out for a girls’ night.”

Antonio gaped at his sister. “She what?”

“Don’t worry, we didn’t let her marry the guy.” Gaby patted his hand. “Why are you so worked up about this... aren’t you two on a break?”

Antonio ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah... but it doesn’t mean I don’t still care about her.”

“Antonio.” Gaby leaned across the bar. “Why don’t you two make up... save everyone a headache?”

Antonio stared at her. “Gaby... she said when things settled down.”

“And what? They haven’t?”

“Well, sorta.”

“Then call her up.”

“You still haven’t told me how she’s doing?”

“She had food poisoning a couple weeks back.” Gaby answered. “She’s been kinda emotional, but I blame that completely on this stupidity that you two have going on.”

“Is she seeing anyone?”

“I’m not in charge of her social life, Antonio. I’m her partner on ambo... I have enough on my plate.”

Antonio groaned. He didn’t want to give in but he did. “Can I get a beer?”

“I thought you weren’t drinking as much.” Gaby handed him a bottle.

“It’s the first beer I’ve had here in weeks... ask Herrmann or Otis.” He tipped the bottle towards her.

“Uh huh.” Gaby took the clean glasses and began to rearrange them on the shelf.

A couple months passed and Sylvie’s morning sickness was under control. She wore looser uniforms to make sure that no physical changes were noticeable. She finally had drawn up the courage to talk to Chief Boden about this. She knocked on his door. “Chief?” She asked.

“Sylvie... come in... close the door.” Boden waved her in. “What can I do for you?”

“Um... I...” Sylvie was wringing her hands together. “Umm... I don’t know how to start.”

“Well... I find just blurting it out helps.” Boden said.

Sylvie knew he was right. She took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”

Boden’s eyes widened. “Congratulations?” He wasn’t sure if Sylvie was happy or not.

“No, Chief... it’s... it’s a good thing. I am happy... I... I just don’t want anyone else to know.”

“Antonio’s the father.” Boden deduced. Sylvie nodded. “And you don’t want him finding out?”

Sylvie nodded. “I don’t want Gaby to know either... they... they don’t hide anything from each other.”

“I see.” Boden scratched his chin. “Well... how... how far long?”

“About 4 months.” Sylvie whispered. “I’ve been hiding... under bigger clothes... but there’s only so much I can hide before people catch on.”

“I see... and how would you explain the transfer? I mean I just got my house family back together.”

“Maybe see if I can move up to Dispatch... until I can figure out how to tell people.”

“Are you keeping the baby?”

Sylvie nodded. “I will tell him... I just don’t know how... I don’t...” She sighed. “Sorry, Chief... you don’t need to know all my sad story.”

“Sylvie... I take care of my own... I understand that Antonio and you are on break...”

“Yeah, Chief... but I don’t want him to come back strictly because of a baby.”

“I don’t think that’s how Antonio Dawson works, but this is your life... so I will respect your wishes. I can put in a request but it may take some time... can you handle that?”

She nodded. “Yeah... oh... and Chief... Kelly’s been my buddy in all this... He’s the one who found me cursing and trashing the ambo the day I found out.”

“I see.” Boden sighed. “Well... If he’s still your buddy... he can be on stand-by for when the time comes... just a word of advice.”

“Yes, Chief?”

“Be careful... should Gaby find out... she may assume that Kelly is the father.”

“I understand.”

Boden stood up. “Congratulations and I’ll let you know once the transfer goes through.”

“Thank you, Chief.”

After shift, Kelly met Sylvie at her apartment. “How’d it go with Chief?”

“He was understanding like you said he’d be.”

“Told you... Chief looks out for all of us.” Kelly smiled. “How you feeling?”

“Tired.”

“Where did Chief say he’d tried to get you?”

“He said he’d try to get me into Dispatch... at least until baby comes.”

“You excited for tomorrow?” Kelly opened the fridge. “What on Earth are you eating?”

“Um...”

“Sylvie... come on... you’re in the medical field... you can’t just eat nachos and pickles and still have a healthy pregnancy.”

“But...”

“No buts.” Kelly closed the fridge. “Tomorrow after the appointment, we’re going grocery shopping.”

“Fine.” Sylvie conceded. “Can we at least have Chinese tonight?”

Kelly shook his head. “Okay, sure... but you’re limited on the amount of friend foods you’re getting.”

Sylvie crossed her arms and pouted.

“Nope. No way. That never worked with Shay... it sure as hell ain’t gonna work on you.”

“But the baby likes fried foods.” Sylvie insisted.

“That baby is the size of an avocado... or at least that’s what this app is telling me.” He held up his phone.

“You bought a pregnancy app?” Sylvie grabbed his phone.

“Yeah... figured it would help me be a better pregnancy buddy.”

“You know that it’s not gonna be easy once Gaby finds out.”

“I can handle her... I just hope that you’ll tell people sooner rather than later.” Kelly snatched his phone back. “I’m gonna order that Chinese... you get fried rice and one other fried item. That’s it.”

“Egg rolls.”

“There... now go find us a movie to watch.”

Meanwhile...

“Hey, Matt...” Gaby handed him a beer.

“Yea?”

“You notice anything off with Sylvie or Kelly lately?”

Casey shook his head. “No, why?”

“Just... he’s really protective of her... and they’ve been spending a lot of together.”

“So?” Casey was desperately trying to watch the Blackhawks game.

“Matt!” Gaby jumped in front of the TV. “Seriously.”

“Gaby...” Matt pleaded. “I... Can I finish the game first?”

Gaby grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. “Matt!”

Casey threw his hands up in frustration. “Gaby!”

“Please... this is important.”

Matt collapsed back against the couch. “Okay... so what’s going on?”

“Have you noticed that Kelly and Sylvie have been spending time together a lot lately?”

“Kinda... so?”

“Is he sleeping with her?”

“How should I know?”

“The Bro Code... or whatever you call it.”

“Why would he tell me?”

“Matt, come on... has he talked to you about anything?”

“No... Gaby... He hasn’t... even if they were, what business is it of ours?”

“She was just dating my brother.”

“Four months ago... Gaby... she’s allowed to move on... the same way Antonio can move on.”

“Matt, they’re supposed to be on a break.”

“Then... what exactly do you want me to do about all this?” Matt was getting a little pissed off. “He’s your brother and she’s your partner... you want them back together, you’re going to have to make it happen.”

“Matt...”

“Gaby, I’m not helping your brother realize that Sylvie was the best thing that ever happened to him... he needs to do that on his own.”

“So, in the mean time... I’m just supposed to stand by and let Kelly weasel his way in.”

“I don’t think Kelly’s that kind of guy. If you’re so up in arms about it... then you confront them.” He grabbed the remote back from her. He groaned when the TV turned back on to see that the Hawks had lost in overtime.

“Well... baby is perfectly healthy.” Will did some measurements. “You wanna know what it is?”

Sylvie was sure she had wanted to know, but now that they were here, she wasn’t sure. She looked to Kelly. “I don’t know.”

Kelly shrugged. “Not my baby, your choice.”

Sylvie sighed. She looked back at the screen. The baby was active. She was starting to feel it move. “Coul... Could you write it down on a sealed envelope? This way, if I want to know, I can look later?”

Will nodded. “Of course.” He wrote down the gender on a paper and sealed it in the envelope. “Does Antonio know yet?”

Sylvie shook her head as she wiped away the ultrasound jelly. “No... I’m not sure when I’m going to tell him yet.”

“How’s the morning sickness?”

“Not as bad.”

“Eating habits?”

Kelly jumped it. “Those need to be fine tuned.”

Will arched an eyebrow. “How so?”

“When I checked her fridge last night, all I found were stale nachos and a jar of Kosher dill pickles.”

“Sylvie!” Will gasped. “You know better.”

“I’m going to... after Kelly takes me to the market.”

“Good.” Will handed her the envelope and a prescription. “Get these pre-natal vitamins... and have you found a real OB?”

“Not yet.”

Will reached into his pocket. “Figured. Here’s one. She’s great... I’ve already briefed her on your case... she’s happy to take you on.”

“Thank you, Will... you’ve made this... a little easier.” Sylvie gratefully took the envelope with her child’s gender and the card of the OB.

“Anything for a friend... how about work?”

“Chief knows... he’s working on getting me transferred to dispatch.”

Will finished some notes in her chart. “How are you going to explain the transfer?”

“I haven’t thought that far ahead.” Sylvie didn’t want to leave 51, but she couldn’t be an active paramedic when she was already starting to show. The job could get really dangerous and she didn’t want to put her child at risk.

“You might want to.” Will closed her chart. “Not to be nosey, but 51 is like here or Intelligence... everyone knows everything... when they don’t... the gossip mill tends to run at full steam.”

“I know... I just... I really don’t want Antonio to only come back because of the baby.”

“I get it.”

“Hey... you haven’t said anything to Jay about this, have you?” Sylvie asked.

Will shook his head. “I wouldn’t even if I could. Don’t forget, doctor-patient confidentiality.”

“Thanks again, Will.” Sylvie hugged him. “I’ll call this OB when we get home from the market.”

“Alrighty... let’s get going so we have time to do everything.” Kelly shook Will’s hand. “Thanks again, man.”

“Anytime.” Will left the room.

“So, ready to go?” Kelly asked.

Sylvie put everything in her purse and nodded. “Yep... and we’re going to a market... not a grocery store for filling my fridge and pantry.”

“Hey... you’re the pregnant one... I’m just the partner in crime to make sure you stay healthy.” Kelly grinned. “I drive, you give me directions.”

During her time dating Antonio and being Gaby’s roommate, Sylvie had gotten hooked on this small Latin-American market close to her old apartment. She loved the seasonings and a bunch of the more traditional foods that weren’t available at most grocery stores. She also knew there was a farmer’s market around the corner from the market today, so she would be able to get fresh produce too. They’d get meat later after they got lunch. They were browsing the spice aisle when Sylvie wasn’t paying attention to what she was doing when she backed into someone. She spun around and began apologizing in her broken Spanish. Her jaw dropped when she saw it was Camila Dawson. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” She exclaimed.

“Sylvie!” Camila put her basket down to hug Sylvie. “It’s a surprise to see you here.”

Sylvie blushed. “Both your children got me hooked on Latino food... so, I come here to get what I need for the recipes.”

Camila grinned. “I’m glad.” She looked over Sylvie’s shoulder and saw Kelly. “Kelly? What are you doing here?”

Kelly’s head shot up. “Oh! Mrs. Dawson.” He walked over to join them and hugged Camila. “I’m just helping Sylvie out... her, uh, car is in the shop.”

Camila looked between the two of them. Sylvie wasn’t sure if she bought that story. The last thing she needed was for Camila to find out that she was pregnant and tell Antonio.

“Sylvie... I was so sorry to hear what happened with Laura... and with my son.”

“You heard?”

Camila nodded. “Diego told me the next time he came to stay with me.”

Sylvie sighed. “We’re on a break... at least until things settle down.”

Camila took her hands. “Mija, don’t wait too long... my son is pig headed... he gets that from his father.”

Sylvie snickered. “As does Gaby.”

“Si... but he may need an extra little nudge...”

“I understand.” Sylvie smiled. “It’s been nice chatting, but my car should be ready soon, so I want to finish up here so I can pick it up and go finish my laundry.”

“Of course.” Camila pulled her in for a hug. “It was good seeing you again, you too, Kelly.”

Kelly nodded and took the basket from Sylvie, but the basket got caught on her jacket. This briefly exposed her baby bump. Sylvie did up her jacket better and prayed Camila didn’t notice. They headed to the till to pay.

Camila picked up her basket and scratched her head. Sylvie was generally a slim person, but she had noticed her being heavier around the middle. She shook her head. She couldn’t be pregnant. She then stopped and thought about it. Perhaps Kelly wasn’t just a friend. She would call Gaby when she got home.

It was almost 5 by the time they got back to Sylvie’s and she was exhausted. She never thought that being 4 months pregnant would make her so tired. She went to the kitchen to start cooking but she grabbed the counter as she got woozy.

Kelly rushed to her side. “Hey... you okay?”

“Jus... Just a little dizzy.” She shook her head.

Kelly didn’t like the sound of that. He swept her into his arms and carried her to the couch.

“Kelly!” Sylvie fought against him. “I can walk, you know.”

“Uh huh.” Kelly ignored her. “You’re staying put on this couch, I’m gonna cook.”

“You? Cook?” Sylvie stared at him. “Really?”

“I’m hurt!” Kelly feigned injury. “I do cook, just not at the house.”

“I’m not gimped, Kelly... I just need a breather.”

“Obviously, you know nothing about growing a baby... you’re gonna tire easier... you’re not gonna be able to do everything the same way you used to.”

“I know, Kelly... I just... I don’t want to be treated like some glass figurine that’s going to shatter any second.”

“I know you’re not... but you need to accept help.” He went to the fridge and grabbed her some apple juice. “Drink some of this... it’ll help your sugar levels, and keep any nausea you may have at bay.”

While supper was cooking, Kelly put the groceries away while Sylvie gave him orders on where to put stuff from the couch. They ate supper on the couch while watching the Food Network.

Kelly put his plate down. “I had an idea.”

Sylvie swallowed. “Okay?”

“What if I were to stay here, until either baby comes or you tell Antonio... just in case you need me?”

“And where would you sleep?” Sylvie asked. “I only have one bed.”

“I’ll sleep on the couch. This way, you know you’ve always got someone here if something happens.”

Sylvie pondered the proposal. It would make sense. She didn’t really like being alone. She had hoped that Antonio would’ve come around by now, but he hadn’t. “Sure... though, may I should get a pull out couch instead of this... you’ll get all cramped... but what about your place?”

“It’s fine.” Kelly took their plates to the kitchen. “I... I just know how much this baby means to you, and that you miss having someone around all the time.”

“I do miss that.”

Meanwhile...

“Ma?” Gaby answered her cell. “Is everything okay?”

“Si, si, Gabriela... I’m fine... I was... I ran into Sylvie today at the marcado... is she seeing someone?”

“Not that I know of... why?”

“Well... you may think I’m being silly... but I think she’s pregnant.”

“Ma... she hasn’t been with Antonio in months...”

“Well, she’s not as slim as she was the last time I saw her four months ago.”

“Ma... I’m sure if she was, she would’ve told me, or at least told Antonio.”

“She was with Kelly.”

“Severide?” Gaby was shocked. “Really?”

“Si, I may be getting older, but I’m not blind.”

“Okay, Ma... I get that... but...”

“What is it, mija?”

“I asked Matt the other day if maybe Kelly was seeing Sylvie.”

“What did he tell you?”

“That he knew nothing.”

“Maybe we’re just both being silly.”

Gaby sighed. “Maybe... I’ll talk to Antonio and see if he’s heard anything.”

“Don’t go gossiping, mjia... it’s not a pleasing attribute.”

“I know, Ma... but... what if she is?”

“Then, it’s up to her to say.”

“Mami!”

“Gabriela... enough. I shouldn’t have called. I have to go check on my dinner. We’ll talk later.”

“Okay.”

“And don’t go all Gaby on this.”

Gaby exclaimed. “Why does EVERYONE tell me that in situations like this?”

“Because... we know you.” Camila laughed. “Te amo, mija.”

“Te amo, Mami.” Gaby ended the call. She really needed to talk to Antonio. She dialed his work cell, knowing he was working a major case.

“You’ve reached Antonio Dawson, Special Investigator for the State’s Attorney’s office. I am unable to take your call. Leave me a message and I’ll get back to you.”

Gaby sighed. “I need answers.”

Sylvie was into her 6th month when her transfer from Dispatch came in. Boden had helped her hide the pregnancy to the best of both their abilities. When they weren’t on a call, Boden told the others that she was working on a project for the CFD to promote the Paramedical Services. Nobody questioned him, so it worked out. As for why Kelly was coming to work and leaving work with Sylvie all the time, they told everyone his place needed major renos, and Sylvie was letting crash on her couch. Again, no one questioned anything they said, well... Gaby was questioning things. She hadn’t been able to get more than a 5 minute call in with Antonio since their mom had asked her about Sylvie and Kelly.

Gaby had tried to see if Sylvie was pregnant but Gaby couldn’t tell. Sylvie always wore a baggier hoody. Gaby suspected it was to hide a baby belly, but Sylvie swore it was for comfort. Gaby was also very suspicious of Kelly’s changed attitude and behaviour around Sylvie. Gaby had over heard that Sylvie had taken a medical day, and Kelly had surprisingly called in sick. Chief hadn’t seemed bothered but Gaby was very intrigued. However, she couldn’t spend a lot of time worrying about it. They had a multi-victim fire and she and Chout were bringing the most critical, a 8-month pregnant teen, to Med.

“17-year-old female, 8 months pregnant. Smoke inhalation and burns to the legs. Broken arm... not sure how that happened.” Gaby said as they handed the victim off to Choi and April.

“Thanks, Gaby... Chout... Baghdad, April... let’s hustle.” Choi shouted, pushing the gurney down the hall.

“I’ll restock, you fill out the paperwork?” Gaby asked.

Chout nodded. “You got it, partner.”

Gaby collected what she needed but noticed the ED was missing a fetal monitor and she couldn’t just take the one that was still on the patient. “Hey, Maggie... uh... fetal monitor?”

“Oh... yeah, no ours was busted. You can either head up to OB or just text Sylvie... she’s up there, I’m sure you could just ask to bring one down.” Maggie said without looking up at the tablet she was holding.

“Why is Sylvie up in OB?” Gaby asked.

Maggie looked up, and judging by the look of shock on Gaby’s face, she knew Gaby knew nothing. She tried to cover her slip up. “She was up visiting a friend.”

“Oh.” Gaby didn’t buy it. She’d played cards with Maggie before, and Maggie had a tell and right now, it was as obvious as ever. “It’s fine. I’ll just head up myself.” She smiled and headed to the stairs. Maybe she’d catch Sylvie and really know what was going on. She was coming around the corner when she saw Sylvie and Kelly being brought into one of the exam rooms. “What the fuck?!” She gasped. Sylvie had obviously been hiding her pregnancy because she was sporting a very obvious baby bump. It also explained her sudden transfer to Dispatch. She was filled with emotions. She turned back, went to the desk and asked for what she needed before flying back down the stairs.

Chout just stared at her as she got back behind the wheel of 61. “Hey, you okay?”

Gaby just grunted and put the ambo into gear, tearing out of the parking lot. She was livid, and felt betrayed. She thought of Sylvie like a sister, yet, seeing what she saw, she felt as if Sylvie had played everyone. She expected something like this from Kelly, but not Sylvie. Obviously, she’d fooled everyone.

“That baby is so active.” Kelly chuckled as Sylvie made the salad for supper. He was busy grilling chicken.

“Yep... I’m pretty sure, boy or girl, they’re taking after their father as a boxer.” She groaned. “I’m sure that my kidneys and bladder will be thankful when this baby is born.”

Kelly patted her shoulder. “You’re tough. You’ll be fine.”

Sylvie was happy to have Kelly there, but she really wanted to be sharing this with Antonio. She had tried calling him to talk, but he was on a major case out of Chicago, so he wasn’t able to be reached. She didn’t dare show up to State’s Attorney’s office because the rumour mill would’ve started like crazy. She also knew it was only a matter of time before someone caught on. She was about to ask Kelly his opinion on her telling everyone when there was an incessant pounding at her door.

Kelly turned to her. “You expecting anyone?”

Sylvie shook her head. “No. You?”

“Nope.” Kelly flipped the chicken. “You want me to get it... or you wanna get it?”

Sylvie knew it was a gamble either way. She didn’t have a peephole, so she had no way of knowing who was on the other side of that door. “I’ll go... just don’t burn my chicken.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sylvie got off the bar stool at the counter and slowly made her way to the door. She swore she waddled like a penguin. She unlocked the door and slowly opened it. She jumped back as Gaby pushed the door fully open and stormed into the middle of the apartment. Sylvie slammed the door behind her. “Gaby?”

“HOW COULD YOU!?” Gaby screeched. “HOW COULD YOU!?”

Kelly ran from the kitchen. “Gaby?”

“Oh, I knew it!” Gaby lunged at him. “You cheated on my brother... with HIM!”

“What?!” Sylvie was backed against the door.

“I SAW YOU! BOTH OF YOU! TODAY! AT MED! GOING INTO AN EXAM ROOM! IN OB!” Gaby was beating on Kelly’s chest. “How could you!?” She broke down sobbing, falling to her knees. “How could you do this to Antonio!?”

Sylvie’s jaw dropped. “Do what? What the hell are you accusing me of?”

Gaby glared at her. “You denying that belly of yours isn’t Severide’s kid?”

“Damn straight she is.” Kelly extended a hand to help her up.

Gaby batted it away. “I don’t buy any of it!”

“Believe what you want, but I haven’t slept with anyone in a long ass time.” Kelly stepped back. “I’m Sylvie’s pregnancy buddy... I’m the one who caught her trashing the ambo when she got the the positive ICON.”

“Why you?”

“Because he butt his stubborn nose in... and I needed support.”

“Riiiiiiiiight.” Gaby mocked her. “Support.”

“Gaby, Antonio’s the father... I can tell you the day we conceived this baby... the day Laura showed up and ruined our relationship.”

“If this is all true...” Gaby stalked up to Sylvie. “Why the fuck haven’t you told my brother!”

“Because!” Sylvie got in Gaby’s face. “We’re on a break... I don’t want him coming back just because he feels like he has to because of the baby! I want him to come back because he wants the relationship.”

“I don’t believe you... I also don’t buy that Severide’s not the father.”

“I don’t care.” Sylvie growled. “Antonio is the father. And I will tell him when I can actually get a hold of him. Do what you want with that information.”

“I have a more pressing question.” Kelly got between the two women. “How the fuck did you know we were up in OB today?”

“I saw you because I needed a new fetal monitor for 61... but that’s not the problem here... the fact that she’s pregnant and trying to pass that kid up as Antonio’s... that’s low.” Gaby slapped Kelly. “How dare you, Severide? How dare you ruin any chance they had at fixing this?!”

“Your mother told you.” Sylvie grabbed her hand as Gaby went to hit Kelly again. “The day she saw you at the market.”

“I was suspicious before that, but everyone told me I was being crazy... well, I was right and they were wrong.” Gaby pushed them both aside. “I hope to hell you’re happy together.” She stormed out of the apartment, almost bolting Sylvie over.

Kelly caught Sylvie. “You okay?”

Sylvie was hyperventilating. She nodded. “The cat’s outta the bag now.”

“Yeah.” Kelly helped her back to her feet. “The baby?”

“Kicking like crazy... I need to sit down.” She felt tears filling her eyes. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do now.”

He hugged her, kissing the top of her head. “Just... focus on keeping you and baby healthy... I’ll deal with the rest.”

Gaby was livid by the time she got to Antonio’s. He wasn’t there, so she went to his work. She was in ‘pissed off Latina’ mode. She stalked straight passed all the receptionists and aides and didn’t even knock on Antonio’s office door. “Antonio!”

Antonio’s head shot up from the computer screen. “Gaby! What the hell?!”

Gaby slammed the door closed behind her, oblivious to the fact that Antonio’s partner, Laura Nagel, was sitting at her own desk. “She’s a lying, cheating whore!”

Antonio shook his head. “Who?”

“Brett!”

“What is she jammering about?” Laura asked.

“Butt out!” Gaby snapped at her.

“Gaby, you need to calm the fuck down.” Antonio tried to calm his sister, but he knew that when she was like that, it was an near impossible task.

“No! Antonio! I... I can’t!” Gaby was to the point of hyperventilating.

“Calm down and then speak, otherwise I’m calling Matt to come pick you up.”

The door burst open with Peter Stone and Security standing there. “Antonio?”

“Sorry... uh, my sister is having a minor crisis... won’t happen again.” Antonio said. “Sorry.”

Stone looked at the scene in front of him. “You sure? Security can handle this.”

“No... she’s good now... thank you.” Antonio prayed that he hadn’t just lost his job over his sister’s antics.

“Okay.” Stone waved security away and closed the door.

Antonio walked around his desk and grabbed Gaby by the shoulders. “What the fuck has gotten into you!?”

By this point, Gaby was shaking like a leaf. “Um.”

“Gaby... if you cost me my job over these antics, I deserve a better answer than ‘um’.”

“Sylvie... she’s 6 months pregnant.”

Antonio’s eyes bulged. “What?”

“Sylvie... as in your ex?” Laura asked from her desk.

“Why hasn’t she told me?” Antonio asked, shaking his head in hopes of clearing the ringing in his ears.

“Because it’s not yours.”

“Gaby...we were together six months ago... well... until...”

“Severide moved into her place and has been going to all the appointments with her.” Gaby whispered.

“What?!” Antonio’s jaw dropped. “Who?”

Gaby nodded. “She claims he’s just her pregnancy buddy... but...”

“You confronted her?”

“Of course I did!” Gaby shouted, then covered her mouth. She counted to 10 before continuing. “Mom ran into her a while back and questioned it, I’ve been questioning it for a while... I think... I think she was stepping out on you.”

“When you confronted her... did she say anything?”

Gaby sighed. “She denied stepping out on you, swears the kid is yours and didn’t come to me because she didn’t want you to know right away because she doesn’t want you to go back to her just for the baby.”

Antonio took a couple minutes to process that. “So, she doesn’t want me to be in the baby’s life?”

“No...” Gaby huffed. “She doesn’t want you to only go back to her because she’s pregnant.”

“And you’re sure it’s Kelly’s?” Antonio asked.

“Why else would he be watching her so carefully? Going to all her appointments?” Gaby was rambling. “Come on, Antonio.”

“Gaby, we were intimate the morning that Laura ambushed her at the firehouse... that was a little more than 6 months ago... you’re in the medical field... don’t you think the math adds up.”

“The math adds up to her also cheating on you... Severide’s a man whore... he’s probably always had his eye on her.”

Antonio knew Kelly and his womanizing ways, but he also knew Sylvie. Or, at least he thought he did. “I’ll talk to her, but Gaby... we’re on a major case... serial rapist and murderer... I can’t lose time on that.”

“Antonio... do you seriously think she was telling the truth?”

“Better question, sis... can you honestly say she’s lying?”

Kelly walked into 51 before everyone else. He knew that Gaby will have told Matt, and that the rumours would be flying. He knew the truth, and so did Sylvie. It was up to the members of the 51 family to choose which ‘truth’ they were going to believe. If anyone were to ask him, he’d be honest. He hadn’t had sex since the last fiasco of picking a woman up from a bar. He was still holding out hope that Anna would come around and move to Chicago. That had been what he’d been hoping since Chief Anderson made him realize that his place was here at 51, come hell or high water.

He was doing an equipment check as the members of 2nd shift started to trickle in. He had called Boden and given him the head’s up on the previous night’s adventures. He created the members of 51 as they came in. No one questioned him, so he didn’t know what that meant, but Gaby and Matt hadn’t gotten in yet. He was pouring himself coffee when Gaby stormed into the kitchen. He was ready for her. “Good Morning, Gaby.”

“Don’t you ‘good morning’ me.” She jabbed a finger in his chest. “I still know what you’ve done.”

“Gaby.” Matt grabbed her shoulder. “I thought we talked about this last night.”

“We did, but it doesn’t change the truth.” Gaby snarled. “He knocked Brett up and now she’s trying to pass his kid off as Antonio’s in some sick ploy to get my brother back!”

“Woah! Hold up!” Herrmann jumped in. “What’s this about Brett being knocked up?”

“Oh... yeah... that’s why she transferred... and hid under baggy clothes all time... she’s about 6 months pregnant!”

“And you think... he did it?” Herrmann pointed to Kelly.

“Damn straight!” Gaby was fuming again. “Why else would he move in with her? Go to all her appointments?”

“I told you and so did she, that I’m her pregnancy buddy... but believe whatever bullshit idea you’ve got going.” Kelly took a swig of his coffee. “That baby is Antonio’s... and I swear if your antics last night hurt it, I’M going go Vesuvius on you. Sylvie’s supposed to be your friend... this is part of the reason she didn’t want to tell you in the first place. That and she didn’t want to hurt you... not so soon after losing Louie and all that. She saw how much you were hurting, and she didn’t want to add to that.”

There was a crash and suddenly Kelly was on the ground and his coffee mug was shattered. Antonio had tackled him to the ground and was wailing on him. That was followed by a string of vulgarities in Spanish. It took all of Squad plus Otis, Matt and Boden to separate the two men. It took all of Squad to keep Antonio from attacking Kelly again.

Boden made Severide sit down and examine him. When he was satisfied that Kelly wasn’t going to die on him, he spun around and bellowed at Antonio. “WHAT THE FUCK IS ALL OF THIS ABOUT?!”

“He knocked Sylvie up!”

“Really?” Boden asked, his voice was shaking from the anger he was feeling. “Do you and Gaby honestly think so little of Sylvie? That she’d do that to you? She’s not that kind of woman... and she was more hurt by this break than anyone has given her credit for!”

“I made her tell me about the pregnancy.” Kelly spat some blood into a tissue. “I said I’d help her, and that’s what I’ve been doing.”

This made Antonio furious again. He broke free from the Squad members and knocked Kelly back onto the table. In all the ruckus, no one could hear the screams coming from the door way.

Sylvie was horrified at the scene in front of her. Chief had texted her to come in and talk to everyone to smother the rumour mill before it could gain momentum. She grabbed a glass off the table closest to her and flung it at the wall closest to Antonio and Kelly. She missed them, but the glass exploded. The noise died down and the kitchen was like a morgue. Antonio looked up from wailing on Kelly, arm locked back ready to strike. Sylvie had tears streaming down her face. Her voice hoarse was hoarse as she begged them. “Stop. Please.”

Matt pulled Antonio away from Kelly allowing Capp and Joe to get Kelly to a safe place so Chout could look him over.

“Sylvie.” Antonio could barely say her name. The blinding rage that had almost killed Kelly was gone. He saw her and realized she was crying because of what he’d done.

Sylvie was frozen in place. She was shaking and her hands were protectively covering the obvious sign of her pregnancy.

Antonio walked to her, keeping a little distance. “It’s true... you’re pregnant?”

Sylvie swallowed, but still couldn’t get her voice to work. She just nodded.

Chief looked to everyone. “Now, Chout... Squad... check on Severide. Gabriela, Matt... my office... the rest of you... drills...” When no one moved, he barked. “NOW!”

Soon, only Antonio and Sylvie were left in the kitchen. Neither knew what to say or how to say anything. Sylvie finally calmed down enough to speak. “Antonio... I... I’ve... I’ve been trying... to come up with a way to tell you... but, I... I didn’t know how.”

Antonio closed the distance between them. “And... it’s not Kelly’s?”

Sylvie shook her head. “No. I co... I couldn’t just sleep with someone else... not... not after I’d been with you... or... ho... how I felt about you.”

Antonio lifted her chin. “Look me in the eyes... and tell me.”

Sylvie blinked away some tears that were threatening to cause her to break down entirely. “Antonio, I am pregnant and it is your baby.” She took his hand. “Feel this.”

Antonio gasped as he felt the movement. “How?”

“I don’t know... we weren’t exactly being precise... look, Antonio... I... I don’t want you to just... come back...” She sniffled. “Just because of the baby.”

“Sylvie...”

“No...” She saw the rest of 51 slowly creeping back towards the kitchen. She grabbed Antonio and led him to the storage room and locked the door behind them. “I won’t stop you from being a part of its life... but I don’t want us to...”

Antonio stopped her there by cupping her face and kissing her. “Stop... Sylvie... I... I’ve been wanting to call or see you, but this last case had me away from Chicago... and I didn’t want to talk about any of this over the phone... You deserve the best... I may not be able to give you everything you deserve, but I will damn well try. I love you, Sylvie Brett... I don’t... I don’t know why I thought either of us was better off apart... I haven’t been the same without you in my life.”

Sylvie’s hand flew to her mouth. “An... Antonio...” She threw herself into his arms and held on tight. “I love you... I have for a while...”

“Then our pigheadness got the best of us.” Antonio whispered, rubbing her back.

“You still owe Kelly an apology.” She whispered back. “He’s just been a good friend... making sure I wasn’t alone.”

Antonio sighed. “I guess I owe him more than that.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I feel like an ass.”

“You were an ass.” Sylvie smirked. “My ass, but an ass none the less.”

He tapped the tip of her nose. “I missed you... every day for the past 6 months... I... I can’t do it anymore.”

“So... you believe me?”

“Your eyes are the most honest I’ve ever seen... I believe you.”

“Good, but in case you didn’t... I had a fetal paternity test done.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out an envelope. “In there, are the results... and my last ultrasound.”

Antonio took the envelope. He looked at the tiny, grainy image. “So small.”

“Uh... sure... okay.” Sylvie chuckled. “Not what I think, but hey...”

Antonio unfolded the results and sure enough, he was the father. “Where’d you get a comparison?”

“You left your toothbrush in my bathroom.” Sylvie admitted. “I... I was terrified to get it done... it’s risky... but... I... I knew that if there was doubts, something bad could happen... I was just too late.”

“And... is baby okay?”

“Yeah... Antonio, he or she is healthy and active... and definitely your child... my bladder and kidneys will be thankful when this baby is born.”

Antonio chuckled. “Already practicing their boxing moves?” He put his hand on her belly. “I forgot... what this feels like.”

“Antonio... I know that... Laura is still... and...”

“Sylvie, you’re over... over analyzing everything. I’m the one who... who pushed you away... I know... I know that I’ve missed everything that’s happened in the last six months, and I can’t make it up to you... but I want to be here for both you and the baby... I want to do what I can to help and I... I should’ve never told you we were done. I shouldn’t have waited this long...”

“Shut up and kiss me.” Sylvie ordered.

Antonio kissed her deeply. His lips were almost bruising her own. Sylvie moaned as his hands slid south passed her hips.

“Antonio... you keep going, we’re gonna be in big trouble.”

Antonio didn’t get to answer as there was pounding on the storage room door. “Hey, you two still alive in there?” Herrmann’s voice was muffled, but followed by laughter.

Sylvie unlocked and opened the door. “Yes, we’re alive. Where’s Kelly?”

“I’m here.” His voice was garbled due to the packing that was in his nose.

Antonio made his way through the throng of people and extended his hand to Kelly. “She told me everything. I am truly sorry for this... I let the Dominican temper get the best of me.”

Kelly shook it. “It’s okay... just... believe me when I say, she’s an amazing woman and that baby is lucky to have her as its mother.”

“Thank you for taking care of her... and I’m really sorry for what I did.” Antonio said honestly. “I should’ve believed you.”

“Hey, as long as she and the baby are healthy... I’m all good.” Kelly rubbed his jaw. One eye was nearly swollen shut and he clearly had a broken nose. “Just, don’t hit me again.”

“Deal.” Antonio patted his shoulder.

“Kelly...” Sylvie was not impressed by what Antonio had done. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey... you’re not the one who started this whole mess.” Kelly pointed out.

“That’s right... I’m not.” Sylvie spun around. “You did!” She glared at Gaby.

Gaby put her hands up. “I messed up! I’m sorry.”

“Sorry... Gaby... you couldn’t believe me... or Kelly... people who are supposed to be like family to you... then you make your brother fly into a jealous rage because you didn’t know any of the details... you did more harm than good at this point.” Sylvie snapped. “I’m hurt and furious with you. Next time you want to start World War III, do it with your own life, and leave me out of it.”

“I know.” Gaby said. “I went ‘Gaby’ on the situation.”

“It’s about time you realized that.” Antonio said. “You didn’t want anything to do with us dating the first time around, yet you had to put yourself in the middle of this now?”

“Look... I jumped the gun... I’M SORRY!”

“Alright... enough... now, Sylvie, Antonio... if you don’t mind, I think you can take your situation out of my firehouse... and maybe take Kelly with you to get checked out... Gaby... you’re on kitchen duty until further notice and I need to find a relief squad lieutenant.” Chief’s words were the end of it.

Sylvie bolted straight up in bed. “Ah!”

Antonio came running from the bathroom. “What? What is it?!”

“Ow!” Sylvie was pushing on her lower back to try and ease the pain.

“More Braxton-Hicks?”

“I don’... OH GOD!” Sylvie knew these weren’t false labour. “Nope... re... real deal.”

Antonio bolted to the closet and grabbed their hospital bag, pulled up some jeans and pulled on a t-shirt. “Okay... let’s get you to Med.” He helped her slowly get out of bed.

Luckily, having sirens on your truck made getting to Med that much faster. Maggie and April were waiting outside with a wheelchair. Antonio parked the truck and ran straight up to OB. By the time he got to Sylvie’s room, they had her hooked up to monitors and in a gown.

“I’m here.” Antonio kissed her cheek.

“They said the contractions are 8 minutes apart but baby hasn’t dropped yet.”

“So, in other words... it could be a while?”

Sylvie nodded. “I already asked for the epidural. I’m not doing this drug free... nope... saw it on ambo, not about to do it myself.”

“Hey, as long as you and the baby are healthy, that’s all that matters to me.” He kissed her. “You need anything?”

“Ice?” Sylvie asked.

“Sure.”

“Oh, Antonio... can you call Kelly... I... I want him to be the baby’s godfather.”

“I don’t think I could’ve picked a better godfather.” Antonio nodded. “You think we can ask Gaby to be godmother, or are you still pissed at her?”

“As long as she doesn’t barge in here when it’s time to push... I don’t want it to be a family affair.” Sylvie was trying to breathe through her contraction.

“Deal.” Antonio kissed her. “I’ll be right back.”

8 hours later...

“How much longer?” Antonio asked Dr. Lee for what was probably the millionth time.

“She’s almost there.” Dr. Lee reassured him. “Her water broke... she’s at 9 cm... contractions are about 1 minute apart.”

“Everything is still okay?”

“Yep.” Dr. Lee. “You’re very anxious.”

“I... It’s been 10 or so years since I’ve done this... so, yeah... I’m anxious.”

“Antonio!” Sylvie gasped. “You’re not the one pushing this baby out!”

“I’m sorry, Sylvie.” He squeezed her hand.

“I think I need to push.” She moaned.

Dr. Lee checked. “Yes, yes you do... on the next contraction, Sylvie... push!”

“Do babies always take this long?” Kelly asked as he paced the waiting area.

“Kelly, if anyone was watching, they’d think you were the expectant father.” Matt teased him.

“Si, Kelly... sit.” Camila motioned to the chair next to her. “You’ll owe the hospital a new floor.”

Kelly blushed and did what he was told.

“And no, mijo... not all babies take this long... however, this baby is a Dawson... and Dawsons are a pigheaded bunch.”

“Mami!”

“What? It’s true... Antonio took almost 15 hours... and you, dear Gabriela, took 20 hours... so... pigheaded.”

Kelly snickered. “Well, at least Sylvie’s got the best nurses and doctors in Chicago.”

“That they do.” Matt smiled. “Are Sylvie’s parents coming?”

“They’re on their way. They left a little later because they needed to find someone to watch the house.” Gaby answered. “I think they’re anxious about this... especially with them being so far away from here all the time.”

“I thought Sylvie had said they’d be staying for a while?” Kelly asked.

“It depends.” Gaby answered. “They weren’t really happy with her not telling them about the baby... or that she and Antonio had taken a break.”

“Oh.” Kelly had known that Sylvie didn’t want a fight with her parents, but he had thought she would’ve told them sooner. “When exactly did she tell them?”

“Um...” Gaby giggled a little. “About 4 hours ago.”

Everyone’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?” Matt asked.

“Yep... I’M the one who had to call them.” Gaby sighed. “Sylvie said it would make us even.”

“I told you not to meddle.” Camila reminded her.

“I know... I’ve learned my lesson.”

“For this time.” Matt chuckled.

They waited some more. Some played games on their phones, others mindlessly flipped through the magazines that littered the waiting room. It was eerily quiet. A scream pierced the silence. Everyone’s head spun to face the doors that led to the delivery/patient rooms.

“Was that Brett?” Kelly asked.

“No idea... she can’t be the only one in here having a baby.” Gaby said. She was really hoping that it wasn’t Brett. She texted Chief to activate the phone tree to get everyone here and asked him to call Voight and Stone. People needed to know. Anytime now, Sylvie and Antonio would be parents.

More time passed. Soon, many members of 51, Voight, Jay, Erin, Stone, and Nagel were waiting with them. Platt had joined Mouch and even Will had popped in to see how things were going.

“Any news?” Voight asked.

Kelly shook his head. “Not yet... so far, lots of screaming and many other babies being born... we also learned that Sylvie’s parents just found out... today... that Sylvie’s pregnant.”

This caused quite the commotion. It didn’t take long for things to quiet down though, the doors leading to the rooms burst open.

Antonio whistled loudly. “Woah!”

Everyone froze in anticipation. Cindy was the one who spoke what was on everyone’s mind. “Well?”

“We have a son.” Antonio beamed.

The whole room exploded into cheers and congratulations.

“And a daughter.” Antonio shouted over them.

“Wait, what?!” Kelly exclaimed.

The doors reopened behind Antonio. Anna was standing there. She motioned to Antonio and he nodded. She headed back down the hallway. Antonio went to Gaby and Kelly.

“Hey, come with me.” He whispered to them.

The trio walked down the hallway. The others watched them.

“What was that all about?” Capp asked.

“Knock knock.” Antonio whispered as he pushed the door to Sylvie’s room open.

Sylvie looked up from her bed. She looked tired, but her eyes still sparkled. She smiled. “Hey.”

Antonio sat on the edge of the bed and looked down at the two tiny bundles in her arms. “Hey, yourself.”

Kelly and Gaby slowly walked up to the bed. “Oh my God!” Gaby exclaimed. “They’re so small!”

Kelly was speechless. He just stared at the tiny beings that were sleeping in his friend’s arms. “Wow.”

Sylvie smiled at them. “Um, we wanted you guys to come meet them first... after we calmed down from the shock.”

“So you didn’t know?” Kelly asked.

“Nope.” Sylvie chuckled. “No fricken clue. They somehow managed to keep one another hidden all the time.”

“Wow.” Kelly grinned.

“You can say that again.” Anna laughed. “She’s a trooper.”

“She is.” Antonio kissed her. “I love you, Sylvie.”

“Meet, Graciela Kelly Dawson and Colby Gabriel Dawson...” Sylvie looked to them. “Antonio and I want you to be their godparents.”

“Really?” Kelly asked. He was shocked.

“Yeah... you took care of her when I was being too blocked headed to see she was everything I needed in my life.” Antonio gently placed Graciela in his arms. “They need someone like you to have their back if we can’t be there.”

“I’d be honoured.” Kelly beamed as he gently looked down at his sleeping goddaughter. “They’re both so small.”

“5 pounds each... that’s not small.” Sylvie grimaced.

Gaby reached for Colby. “They’re so cute.” She put her pinky near Colby’s tiny hand and he grasped it tightly. “He’s strong.”

“Like his father... I’m just praying that the Dawson pigheadness is diluted between the two of them.” Sylvie chuckled.

“Everyone’s here.” Kelly looked up. “Your parents included.”

Sylvie’s jaw dropped. “Who?”

“I... I called them... surprisingly... they didn’t know you were pregnant.”

“No shit!” Sylvie tried to sink in the pillows. “I didn’t want them to know... not until Antonio and I had worked things out... I don’t want them attacking him because we had a baby before we were married... now twins... oh Lord.”

“I’m sorry!” Gaby exclaimed, startling Colby.

Colby began to scream. Antonio reached for his son. Kelly caught a glimpse of something shiny on his finger. “Uh... what’s that?” Kelly motioned to his hand.

Antonio looked up from the screaming newborn. “What’s what?”

“This?” Kelly bumped his finger with his elbow. “Is that a ring?”

Gaby looked between her brother and her best friend. “Brett...”

“About that...” Sylvie smiled sheepishly. She held up her left hand. There on her ring finger was a very sparkly set of engagement and wedding rings. “It’s Dawson now.”

Gaby’s eyes bulged. “Since... wha... when? How?”

“Better question... why weren’t we invited?” Kelly asked.

“Well... I wasn’t going to let her go away... so yesterday... we went to the courthouse and got married... we’re going to do the big thing later... but, we wanted this... before anyone else decided to get in the way of our relationship.” Antonio answered.

“So, you just happened to have a set of wedding rings lying around?” Gaby was hurt that they would do this.

“No... we went shopping last week...” Sylvie whispered. “After... what happened with Laura... we couldn’t risk jinxing anything...”

“Who witnessed it?” Gaby asked. She remembered how they’d all shown up to their impromptu wedding.

“Ma, the kids, and Stone.” Antonio said. “Look, Gaby... I get you’re pissed, but... this was our choice... and we will do the whole ceremony and reception for family and friends later... I promise.”

“I better get to help plan.” Gaby mock pouted. She knew her brother deserved all this happiness and more.

Sylvie reached for her best friend’s hand. “Actually... I was wondering if you’d be my matron of honour.”

“I’d be honoured.” Gaby hugged her. “Congrats, you guys. You deserve all this and so much more happiness.”

“Yeah, man... that’s great news.” Kelly looked down to Graciela, who was beginning to whimper. “Uh...”

Sylvie reached for her daughter. “She’s probably hungry... uh... could you guys maybe get everyone together in one of the family rooms... Anna will get us there once they’re fed?”

“Sure thing.” Kelly placed Graciela in Sylvie’s arms and placed a quick kiss on Sylvie’s cheek. “Congrats... you’re gonna rock this.”

A short while later, Anna wheeled Sylvie down to where their family and friends were waiting. Antonio was carrying Colby while Sylvie held Graciela. They were anxious. They knew that some people would not be overly happy that they’d eloped.

“Hey, guys.” Sylvie said as the room quieted down. “Um, we’d like you to meet Colby and Graciela.”

The first people to approach them were Camila and the kids, followed very closely by Sylvie’s parents. As their mothers held their grandchildren, Antonio figured it was time to break the other news.

“While our parents, and Diego and Eva are busy with the twins, we have another announcement to make...” Antonio took a deep breath. “Yesterday, Sylvie and I got married.”

Sylvie took his hand and they held up their respective rings. At first the room was dead silent, but they were then ambushed by everyone with their congratulations and questions.

“Yes, we’re happy... no, it wasn’t just because she was pregnant and yes, we are going to have a proper wedding, once the twins are little older.” Antonio answered them all. “Now, once you’ve all seen them, we’d like to get them to bed and let Sylvie rest.”

Slowly, the crowd thinned out. The shook many hands and received many hugs. It felt good. Finally, the only ones left were Camila, Eva and Diego. They all went back to Sylvie’s room. The twins were laid in their respective bassinets and they were already sound asleep.

“When will you guys be coming home?” Diego asked.

“When the doctor says we can.” Antonio answered. “You guys okay with staying with Abuela a little while longer?”

“Sure.” Eva said. “As long as we can come see them tomorrow.” She pointed to the newest additions to the Dawson clan.

“Definitely.” Sylvie said. “I think we’ll probably be home tomorrow night.”

“I think we should let everyone rest... it’s been a very long day.” Camila put her arms around her grandchildren. “They’re here now, and they’ll be here a long time.”

“Dad?” Eva asked.

“What is it, Eva?”

“Does Mom know?”

Antonio shook his head. “Nope. She’ll find out when she finds out, but in reality, it’s none of her business what happens here... just remember that.”

The kids hugged their father and Sylvie and they left. Antonio sat in the chair next to the bed. They were talking about the changes that would have to happen when they got home.

“Well, the first thing is... you’ll need to double everything you already have.” A familiar voice came from the doorway.

“Maggie.” Sylvie smiled. “I was wondering when you’d pop in.”

“How’s our newest celebrities?”

“Exhausted.”

“Antonio, you do know you can lie next to her, right?” Maggie checked on the twins. “I don’t think we’ll have to worry about you two getting into trouble.”

“Maggie!”

“Just... enjoy this.” Maggie dimmed the lights. “Get some rest.”

Antonio laid next to Sylvie, carefully pulling her into his arms. They looked over to the twins, who were soundly sleeping. For the first time in a long time, they were right where they needed to be.

A/N: Okay... so... that happened... My brain went all over the place... it may have been slightly OOC but, hey... they deserve happiness! Please tell me what you think... I’ve only been working on this story for two weeks (10,000+ words later...) Cheers! Nicole

#Brettonio4ever #Brettonio #Antonio Dawson #Sylvie Brett #Chicago Fire #Chicago Justice #One Chicago #forgiveness #family #drama #angst #making up #reunion

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