#now there's a surgeon who needs to get out of bed and come actually clarify what's going on

[trek-tracks]

for the next five minutes before there's another crisis

[ffwriterbts]

Lunar- BTS Werewolf AU Part 4

AN: As I’ve said before, if slowburn BTS werewolf AUs that have springlings of angst, smut, and fluff, this is the story for you! Other than that, please leave a like or comment so I know you’re enjoying the story!! The sections should start getting longer as I keep updating :) 

Also! Let me know if you want to be on a tag list for this story! 

Word Count: 7.7k

Warnings: General angst; slight medical talk; mental health issues; soulmate themes if you squint

Posted: 31 Dec 2020

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When YN wakes up, she is lying in what looks like a fancy hospital room. Her shoulder is on fire, there’s an IV in her hand, her leg is propped up in an almost uncomfortable way, and all the rest of her feels like she was repeatedly hit by a cement truck. 

YN tries to sit up, but only makes it a few centimeters before pain wracks her body and she stops in her tracks. Her eyes snap shut and she takes a few deep breaths, doing her best to remember what happened and where she was.

And- nothing. YN doesn’t really remember anything that happened. 

That is, until Jin walks into the room, and everything hits her all at once- how Jin and Yoongi came to cook, how she was going back to the garden to grab her phone when a mystery wolf tried to harm her, how Yoongi transformed into a giant black wolf, how he fought for her, how Jin helped her. 

“I didn’t expect you to wake up so soon. Welcome back, YN.” Jin breaks the silence, and YN’s eyes snap up to him. 

“I-” YN starts, taking a second to collect her thoughts before continuing. “What happened to me?” Her voice is gruff, hoarse. 

“You were attacked.” Jin gives a little shrug before continuing, “Your shoulder was bitten, your ankle broken, you have three cracked ribs, and deep tissue bruising on the side with the bite. Other than that, you’re covered in scratches and bruises from the dragging and the nasty fall you took.” 

“Oh.” 

“Don’t worry, you have the same blood type as Jimin, and he was more than happy to donate for you. The wolf blood will have you healed by the end of the month for pretty much all of it. The ankle will take a little longer.” Jin shrugs again, going around and checking all of the monitors, making sure everything was good before he makes small talk with YN and helps her sit up, giving her water. 

Once he is sure she is as fine as she can be, he takes a seat at the end of the bed. YN can feel her ears get hot as she realizes that he has plenty of room, seeing as her legs don’t even reach three-fourths of the way down when she’s lying, much less when she’s sitting up. She doesn’t know why she feels this embarrassment, but she does anyway, and she silently hopes that Jin doesn’t know. 

“You must have questions, so why don’t I give you the full story?” Jin lightly pats where YN’s good foot is, smiling warmly at her. “If you want me to, of course.” 

“Please, I feel like I’m going crazy.” YN’s voice is much softer now, as she looks at him with those big, innocent eyes of hers, sipping water. 

“Well, I hope you’ve figured out by now that we are all werewolves.” Jin lets out a little laugh as YN nods softly. 

“We are a hidden race among humans, almost extinct. There are a few large groups over in America, there’s a couple here, a few somewhere in Europe, and a whole bunch over in Africa. There’s also a city of only wolves and special, trusted humans in China, which is also hidden from the world. We are bigger, faster, and stronger than even the very best human. We have the ability to change into wolves whenever we want, so long as we are fully healed.” Jin takes breath, looking to YN to make sure she was following along. 

YN nods, eyes trained on Jin as she listens, and he continues. 

“In order to survive, we had to breed with humans, muddle the gene pool. The fastest, strongest, largest of the humans, they are all part wolf. Our pack is one of the purest here, genetically speaking, but we would be considered basically human by our ancestors. But, to be fair, some humans are able to be welcomed into packs.” 

“Packs?” YN asks, head tilting slightly to one side as Jin smiles. 

“Yeah, like wolf packs. There are Alphas, Betas, and Omegas, which are basically what you think they are, though there is a lot more variation than you would think. Each designation is on a sort of scale, though that scale is not something that can easily be explained.” Jin gives another half shrug, glancing up at the IV, before standing and doing something that YN didn’t understand. 

“Here, let me get this changed so your body doesn’t starve or dehydrate. And I’ll let the rest of the boys know you’re awake, they’re excited to meet you and make sure you’re okay.” Jin clearly makes the move away from the subject of werewolves, and even though YN’s mind is swirling with questions, she doesn’t question the dropping of the subject. 

YN assumes (correctly) that any and all questions she possibly has will be answered in time, because something about the way Jin putters around the room doing this or that feels like coming home. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next week, YN steadily gets better. Whatever it is about the werewolf blood that makes healing kick it up into overdrive was working better than expected, which all of the boys were grateful for. She had visitors every day, for most of the day, and she quickly got along with each of them. 

Jin, who YN found out was actually a fully licensed medical doctor and surgeon, mandated that the boys were only allowed to go and see her in pairs, so she wouldn’t be overwhelmed. 

And thus, YN met Hobi and Jimin almost as soon as Jin opened the door to let the boys know she was accepting visitors. She could see who she would later find out to be Jungkook and Taehyung peaking in the doorway, wanting to be included but not being allowed to be. 

Both Hobi and Jimin very enthusiastically introduced themselves, taking no time at all to occupy the end of the bed that YN was far too short to occupy herself. Talking to them felt like talking to people she had known for years, and they had YN almost rolling with laughter within the first five minutes. 

It was almost an hour of not-so-patient waiting on behalf of Taehyung and Jungkook before Jin came back and kicked Hobi and Jimin out, scolding them half-heartedly for not letting the other two have their time yet. 

With quick apologies, those two boys slipped out of the room as two more replaced them. Again, just as enthusiastic, the two boys introduced themselves, and had YN in stitches almost too quickly. 

Without a second thought, YN is talking with them for almost two hours, before Namjoon comes in and cuts them off. He kicks the two youngest out of the room, telling them that YN needs to rest sometime, that she has to heal. 

Namjoon in turn takes the same spot at the end of the bed, but he is bearing gifts. Namely, the gift of her electronics from her home, a nice lap desk, and some of her very favorite sour candy.

“I figured you would want these things, seeing as you’ll be here for a while.” Namjoon smiles softly as he almost sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. 

“Oh, thank you!” YN is much more animated than she was even an hour ago, snatching the sour candies from Namjoon’s hand as quickly as she dares to, trying her best to open the bag without moving her one arm very much. 

“Do you want some help YN?” Namjoon’s voice is soft but deep, and YN nods without even a second’s hesitation, holding out the offending bag with a small pout. 

Namjoon just chuckles, making small talk as he easily opens the bag, carefully handing it to YN. She lets out a grateful sigh, carefully balancing the bag in her hurt hand, and throwing candies into her mouth. 

“How’d you know I like these?” YN asks absently, paying far more attention to the wonderful flavor than to Namjoon and his response. 

She was tired, her body was sore, and honestly, she was more excited for her candy and the prospect of a nice long sleep than she was about anything Namjoon had to say. That was, at least, until she actually heard the words that came out of his mouth. 

“Oh, we can read minds. We know all sorts of things about you.” His voice was that same even calmness, to the point that YN didn’t actually register what was said for almost a whole minute. 

“You… you what?” YN pauses and looks up at Namjoon, shock and confusion written so clearly on her face that Namjoon didn’t even need to read her mind to know exactly what she was thinking. 

“Hyung was supposed to tell you, but yes. It’s an innate ability of ours, and once you present you’ll probably be able to do the same.” Namjoon gives a little sort of half shrug as YN’s face just scrunches up more as she tries to fully process what Namjoon actually said. 

“I can see you’re confused.” Namjoon speaks again and YN rolls her eyes without taking a second to think about how that might be perceived. Sure, the men she had met had all been incredibly kind to her, but that doesn’t mean that they’re comfortable enough to start with the half-bratty sass that YN was known for with her close friends. 

“Yeah, I wonder why.” YN speaks for the first time, her eyes locking up onto Namjoons in a way that seemed out of character for the girl that he had begun to get to know. “It’s not like this is a lot to process or anything.” Sarcasm seems to drip from every pore like venom, and Namjoon pauses for the first time, slightly confused. Again, this was unlike the character that he had come to know as YN.

He’s sure YN doesn’t mean any harm by what she’s saying, that much is clear to him because of her thoughts, but he was under the impression that YN was just a sweet, mild mannered woman. Silently, Namjoon chides himself for allowing himself to believe that YN, a fully functioning adult woman, was something other than a three dimensional person with multitudes to her personality. 

“May I ask some clarifying questions?” YN asks after a short silence. For the first time, she felt slightly uncomfortable in the silence, wondering if she had actually offended Namjoon inadvertently. Usually, she tried to tame the more bratty side of her personality for fear of being hurt by someone she completely offended, and it seemed to hit her all at once that these men, who were already giant in comparison to her, also held an unknown strength.

YN’s fears are assuaged when Namjoon gives her a beautiful smile, nodding his head and motioning for her to ask away. 

“How much of my head can you see?” YN tilts her head to one side, not catching how strange her phrasing is until Namjoon lifts an eyebrow. By that point, too much time has passed for YN to really change her statement, and she can feel her ears getting hot as she waits for Namjoon to actually respond. 

“Well, any of us can read basically any thought you have. We can also access memories, though it is incredibly frowned upon to do so, as it is sort of like torture for the person whose mind you look into for that one. But, we can also teach you how to make sure we can’t see inside your mind, and when the door to the room closes, we can’t see into anyone inside the room.” Namjoon answers with a sort of practiced nuance, which is comforting to YN in a strange way. 

“Do you look at my thoughts all the time?” 

“No, of course not. That wouldn’t be fair, and honestly, we don’t really look in your mind at all. You do throw off emotion, but that’s different in the first place.” Namjoon gives that same little half shrug. 

“How’s it different?” YN’s voice is much softer now. There’s something about the way Namjoon speaks that makes her feel like she’s coming home. 

She shakes the feeling, instead trying to focus on what Namjoon has to say.

“When in the pack, emotions are shared and felt by the other members of the pack, to varying degrees. When it comes to other wolves, we are sensitive to their emotions and have a large amount of completely non-verbal communication. Part of why you’re so interesting to us is the fact that we can feel your emotions, though you clearly aren’t fully wolf.” Namjoon pauses, brow furrowed. 

“What does that mean?” YN’s expression turns to match Namjoons. 

“It means you’re one of us. But also that you’re not.” Namjoon brings a hand up to rub the bridge of his nose. “I’m not sure what it means, honestly. You smell like an Omega. You act like one, mostly. But you clearly won’t be able to turn once you finish presenting, you know nothing of our world or customs, you’re absolutely tiny.” 

YN shifts uncomfortably when Namjoon looks up at her, her ears heating up again, though she has no idea why she’s embarrassed. It’s not her fault she didn’t know about a hidden society of werewolves, after all. 

Namjoon opens his mouth to say something else, but the door opens and Jin steps in. 

“Namjoon, go separate Taehyung and Yoongi. They’re at it again. Both of them are acting like children.” Jin lets out a deep, exasperated sigh. “And you need to leave YN alone, she needs to heal. Didn’t you say the same thing to Tae and Kookie just a bit ago?” 

YN can’t help but smile softly at the familiar interaction, almost laughing when Jin shoos Namjoon out of the room. 

“As for you, Miss YN, you need to actually rest. Don’t be afraid to tell any of the boys to leave, they know full well that you are here to heal.” Jin gives YN a bright smile as he reaches behind her to make sure her pillows are arranged correctly. 

YN nods, a grateful smile on her features. “I’ll do my best to heal well, thank you.”  She speaks softly, her thoughts a jumbled mess after everything Namjoon told her, her prior annoyance and attitude melting away.

“Do you need anything else? It’s getting late enough I’m going to leave you, I know Namjoon set you up with your technology and chargers.” Jin stands in the doorway, facing YN. 

“No, thank you! I’m good until tomorrow.” YN answers quickly, arranging herself so she can rest comfortably for the night. 

“I’ll leave you then. If you need anything through the night, there’s a call button on the side there. Good night, YN.” 

“Good night!” YN calls, watching as Jin flicks off the light and closes the door. She then proceeds to lay there, in the strange bed, and stare up at the ceiling. 

It was a lot to process, everything that she’d been told. 

“I’m fucking crazy.” YN groans, sighing deeply and checking her phone for the first time in what could have been weeks. 

She was unsurprised to see that the only notifications she had were from her editor, sending back things for her to work on and asking for the corrections and newest works.

YN can’t help but sigh again, throwing her phone to one side and settling in better. She was thankful to the men who had saved her, and she knew somewhere deep down that she could trust them, but it was just a lot to deal with. 

What did it mean that she smelled like an Omega? What the fuck did it mean to present? What did Namjoon mean when he said that she threw off emotions? 

YN was confused, to say the least, but as she relaxed more and ignored the aches of her body, she realized just how tired she was. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep, even with her mind swirling with question after question about what everything meant.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was three weeks before YN had the use of her arm back, her shoulder only stinging slightly when she actually used her arm properly. It was another month after that before YN could walk on her ankle, which had been almost shattered from the attack. And that whole time, YN was bonding with the boys. 

She quickly found that the three youngest were incredibly physically affectionate, which YN just adored. She quickly found herself curling up beside Jimin, playing with his hair and feeling completely enveloped in his arms. Or laying across Jungkook’s lap, laughing at his facial expressions as he played his games. Or jokingly having Taehyung carry her around, lovingly calling him her “trusty steed” from her perch on his back.

She found that Jin’s love language was acts of service, which usually translated into him cooking this or that for the group. YN quickly fell into the habit of helping Jin as much as she could sitting at (or on) the counter, laughing at his dad jokes and making some of her own. She made sure that Jin didn’t forget to serve himself as well, always sneaking some of the best parts that he gave to her back into his own portion.

She found that the best way to bond with Namjoon was to just talk to him, about anything and everything, especially philosophical topics. Both YN and Namjoon loved the debate of this or that, the exchange of ideas, the passion of discussing things that others find to be boring. They would spend hours sitting in the library and reading this book or that novel, just to discuss it as soon as both of them had finished, getting off topic in that special way that isn’t really off topic, if you think about it on a deeper level. 

She found that Hoseok loved to dance, loved to explore music and feel it through the movement of  his body. While YN wasn’t able to stand and actually dance with him, even though she would have loved to, she did suggest new songs for him to try making routines to, bringing him water and snacks every so often. He would always ask her to stay and watch, which she did, always giving him the biggest applause she could at the end of the beautiful dances, talking his ear off about her love for movement like that, even if she couldn’t ever really do it herself. 

She found, however, that it was with Yoongi that she felt the most at peace. She quickly gained access to his ever-so-exclusive “genius lab,” where he made his music. Most of the time, YN would work on her writing as Yoongi worked on his music, the studio space filled with the soft sounds of YN’s typing and the sounds of whatever Yoongi was working on. They didn’t need to talk, instead the two sat in silence most of the time, just enjoying the fact that there was someone else there who understood that being together was all that was really needed.

Every so often, Yoongi would spin around in his chair and capture YN’s attention, asking her to listen to something and give her opinions on what could be improved or changed to make the song sound better. While YN didn’t have a lick of musical experience, she was sensitive to sounds and could pick out parts that didn’t quite mesh correctly with ease, which is just what Yoongi needed. 

On the flip side, when Yoongi was taking a bit of a break to stretch, YN would ask him to make certain motions or how to say certain things in different accents to help her be able to write this or that out in a way that actually made sense. Her editor was praising the way her work was coming back with less mistakes and awkward parts, and YN was absolutely loving the way she and Yoongi got along. 

And yet at other points, when neither Yoongi nor YN could seem to focus long enough to get anything done, the two would lounge side by side on the couch and just talk. They never really had something specific to talk about, but YN would find herself opening up about things that she had never told anyone else. She would find herself listening intently to whatever Yoongi decided to open up about, carefully choosing her words in a way that was meant to make him feel better, without making it feel like she was dismissing the feelings that he had in the first place. 

It was a system that worked, with YN falling into the routine of the home far quicker than any of them would have ever expected.  She found joy in helping Jin cook, she felt loved at the unashamed touchiness of Jimin and Taehyung, and again in the much more shy touchiness of Jungkook, she found quiet appreciation in sharing music and watching Hobi, she felt wanted during the long conversations and debates with Namjoon, and she felt at peace with Yoongi. 

She felt like she was home.  

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

But nothing can last forever, can it? YN knew just as much as the rest of the boys that she would have to go back to her own home eventually. 

And so, after two and a half months of living with the seven men, YN was taken back to her own home. 

Jin’s the one who drove her, with Namjoon riding shotgun. There was an aura of sadness the entire time, like none of them really wanted to go anywhere, but it wasn’t like YN could just move into their house. 

This wasn’t a movie or some crappy romance novel, after all. It was real life, and in real life, people don’t just pack up and move into the home of people who were basically strangers. 

The whole parting was quiet. YN couldn’t bring herself to actually say the word “goodbye” to either of the men who had come to make sure she got home safe, instead throwing her arms around their necks and giving them a good squeeze, wishing that she didn’t have to leave. 

The whole thing rang the same as the way she had parted with the other boys before the drive, the ache settling into her chest like someone had ripped out her heart and thrown it under the tires of the car as it pulled away, tears falling freely as a sharp longing settled in her stomach. 

It wasn’t until Jin and Namjoon left that YN actually cried, sobs tearing out of her throat as she crumbled to the ground, knees hitting the hardwood sharply. 

She had no idea how long she stayed there, feeling like there was a hole ripped into her very being, wishing for the comfort of Yoongi’s words, or Jimin’s wonderful hugs, or of Jin’s gentle prodding to “eat well.” 

Eventually, YN drug herself to her feet, stumbling to the kitchen and chugging some water before grabbing the bag she had borrowed to take her things back to her house, deciding she needed to put things away. 

“Why did I let them pack the bag?” YN groans, finding quickly that she is wholly unable to actually pick the bag up, and instead has to drag it to her room. She’s silently thankful for the wood floors because she can actually slide the bag. 

It isn’t until she gets to the last couple sweatshirts in the bottom of the bag that YN realizes she’d picked up a few presents from the boys. Shaking her head, she realizes why they had insisted on helping her in the first place, each of them had gifted her something small and they didn’t want her to refuse them, like they knew she would. The knowledge of how kind they were being was completely bittersweet, however, because they felt like “goodbye, at least remember us” presents.

From Jin she got the knife she quickly claimed was her favorite because it was the only one that was properly sized for her. There was a small note attached tha read “For my favorite kitchen helper, since it’s too small for me, -Jin” 

YN felt the tears well up in her eyes as she carefully set the knife to the side, not wanting to accidentally hurt herself. She then reaches back into the bag, wondering what else she might find. 

Hobi’s gift was next, giving her the one black headband of his that she always stole and jokingly wore around. It was wrapped around an adorable little teddy bear, with a note saying “For my favorite dancer, even if you couldn’t really do anything. Next time, I’m sure you’ll show me up -Hobi <3” 

Tears were flowing down her face now, but YN couldn’t stop looking for what was next, no matter what kind of feelings arose from it. 

Next she found one of the small figurines from Jungkook’s games, the one she always told him was her favorite because of it’s cool jacket. The note simply read “He might be your favorite, but you’re mine.”

YN smiled at the lack of signature, getting up and placing the figure on her nightstand, carefully angling it so it could watch over the room. Taking a seat on the edge of her bed, she reaches into the bag again, pulling out a gift that couldn’t have been from anyone but Namjoon. 

It was a book that was equal parts old and beautiful, and as YN ran her finger down the spine, she took out the note that was sticking out of the book. She wiped the tears from her face before she read the note, not wanting to drip tears onto it.

“Our Miss YN, 

Please don’t take this as a goodbye, but as a promise for the future. You’re just as important to us, to me, as we are to you. Remember us, remember the good, and look to when we can be together again. 

-Joon” 

It’s with this that YN starts sobbing again. They’re so sweet, those boys, and YN couldn’t help but feel almost lost without them. Her chest hurt like someone had shot her, a strong sort of longing that seemed endless settling into the pit of her stomach. 

It takes a while this time, before she can reach into the bag again. When she does, she almost immediately has renewed cries falling from her lips. 

She had pulled out the one super soft sweater of Jimin’s that she absolutely adored. She had told him that she was going to steal it from him whenever he wore it, twisting her fingers in the material and snuggling closer to him. It was soft, it smelled nice, and she knew that it would make her both look and feel tiny. 

There’s no note with this one, but YN can feel the love and sincerity behind the action, draping the sweater over her legs for the time being. She reaches into the bag again, smiling as she pulls out one of Taehyung’s million beanies, wrapped around a small toy horse. 

There is a note with this one, which simply reads “Horse.” It’s the most Taehyung thing YN can think of, and without a second thought, she places the horse next to the figurine, pulling the beanie on. 

She doesn’t find anything else immediately, taking a minute to put the things she had gotten in safe spots and going to put away the last couple hoodies, which she knew were hers. 

It isn’t until she reaches the last thing in the bag that she finds what Yoongi left her. At first, she thought it was just one of his hoodies, which she absolutely adored, but when she took it out to lay it next to the sweater Jimin had given her, something fell out of the folding. 

Quickly, YN picks up whatever fell, and finds that it’s a CD. She shakes her head, knowing that Yoongi would be the kind of person to share music as a gift. She sets the CD carefully on the bed, gathering up her shower supplies and a towel, both because she needed to take them back to her bathroom, and because she needed to actually shower. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Once she’s freshly showered, using Hobi’s headband to keep her hair out of her face, wearing nothing but the amazingly soft sweater Jimin left her, YN settles into her bed with a CD player she found, Yoongi’s hoodie layed out beside her. Now that she had calmed down, she could smell the boys on the things they had given her. She would have been lying if she said that it wasn’t incredibly comforting to have their scent around her. It made the gaping hole in her chest feel a little less bloody, for whatever reason. 

Pressing play, YN settles in, not knowing what to expect. Neither the CD nor the CD cover had any sort of writing on it, so YN had no idea what was going to be playing, or for how long. She can’t help the small smile that graces her face as Yoongi’s voice fills her space, speaking deep and slow in that comforting way YN loved. 

“YN, my lovely secret keeper. You’re hearing this now because the day has come that you had to go back to your own home. I know none of us want you to leave, and if your actions have anything to say about it, you don't want to go.

You know as well as I do that things don’t always work the way we want them to, though.  We will be coming to visit you, as much as we can. And we will keep an eye on you. 

YN, please listen to me when I tell you I won’t let anything happen to you. It broke my heart, letting you get hurt once. And I’m not sure what I would have done if Hyung and I weren’t there when you were attacked. 

If you need me, if you need any of us, we will be there. Always.” 

YN curls up in a ball, hugging Yoongi’s hoodie to her chest, breathing in his scent deeply. She knew that he meant every word, that he truly would never let anything happen to her on purpose, but she also felt abandoned by him. By all of them. 

She had spent the last ten weeks of her life talking to Yoongi or Namjoon when she felt bad. Going to Jimin or Taehyung for cuddles when she was lonely. Gaming with Jungkook when she was bored. Laughing with Jin while prepping meals. Doing what little dancing she could with Hobi when she was restless. Laughing as Taehyung insisted on carrying her from one room to another, even once she had healed enough to walk. 

She had spent the last ten weeks evening out their teams when they played games, singing off-key on karaoke nights, fielding Taehyung’s touchiness before he got on Yoongi’s nerves (because for some reason, Tae insisted on trying to cuddle Yoongi at every opportunity), celebrating with them, helping to clean the wolves if there was a fight, stealing blankets off of every surface she could, curling into the side of whoever sat beside her in the name of stealing their boundless warmth.

She had spent ten weeks creating a space for herself in their lives, in their home. And now, it was back to living in a house that was way too big for her, with nobody to keep her accountable. 

It was because of this that she cried herself to sleep, even the sound of Yoongi’s beautiful music filled the room. She missed them, more than anything. She felt like she was crying more than she ever had, and it had only been hours since she left their home.

What YN didn’t know was that the boys were missing her just as much back at their home. 

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

Jin had decided to make a fancier meal than usual, because it would take more time and take his mind off of everything, but as he went about getting things done, he couldn’t help but miss seeing YN, perched precariously on the counter, babbling away about this or that as she carefully cut whatever needed to be chopped up. 

He internally cringed as the thought of the time YN had slipped and almost fallen on her hurt ankle, his own quick reflexes being the only thing that had saved her from weeks of extra healing. Honestly, even though it stressed him out to no end to have her cutting things balanced the way she was, it was also something that he had come to expect. Secretly, he wished she had fallen on that ankle, because that would mean she would have still been right there, trying to out-joke the dad joke master himself. 

Jungkook had holed himself away in his room, going to game, setting out a second controller without thinking about it. He had been in the middle of teaching YN how to play his favorite game, so that they could properly play together instead of having her just watch him play all the time. It felt wrong for him to have to just put away that second controller. 

The feeling was just exasperated when he went to start the game and it came up with the section that they had been working through. Fondly, Jungkook remembered the way YN would bring her bottom lip between her teeth as she concentrated on doing things correctly, bouncing in her seat when she finally figured out how something worked. Despite the fond memories, he found himself close to tears, staring at that second controller. 

Jimin and Hobi both went to the studio, deciding to dance away the hurt. Without thinking, Hobi went to ask YN what song they should freestyle to, the words dying in his throat as he turned around to talk to the girl that just wasn’t there. Jimin can see just how much pain Hobi is in, not even speaking as he brings the slightly taller man into his arms, feeling the same sense of loss. 

They sunk down to the floor, neither of them wanting to talk, which in itself was strange for the two normally boisterous men. Jimin missed the feeling of having YN curled up beside him, stealing his heat. Hobi missed being able to talk to her about the dances he was doing, getting a perspective from someone who didn’t really know anything about dance. They missed her. 

They didn’t realize until that moment, when the two were both trying to get the same sort of comfort from each other that they had begun to seek out YN for, how much of a hole there was in their group. Sure, they had been just fine before YN, and would be fine again without her, but there was a comfort with her that they didn’t know how to replace. Things just weren’t the same.

Taehyung busied himself with a book that Namjoon had been recommending to him about one artist that he recently found, but he couldn’t focus on the words or pictures in front of him. Instead, his mind was preoccupied with the fact that, for the past two months, he had spent this lazy time in the afternoon helping YN get from place to place, laughing with her as the others did this or that. He missed those moments, with YN laughing in his arms or on his back, even though it shouldn’t have been long enough for those feelings to settle in. 

He closed the book, flopping down onto the sofa he had settled on and trying not to think too hard about what he could have been doing with YN. If he was being honest with himself, he liked having someone who was so small and easily carried around, because he liked feeling big and important in comparison to her. It was an added bonus that her personality meshed so well with his own, and that she seemed to just understand  the weirder parts of his personality, instead of being put off by them like so many others. 

Sure, he was one of the largest of the pack, but that didn’t mean he felt like it. By wolf standards, he was pretty close to normal, but for whatever reason, he loved the way YN would curl into his side when they were seated next to each other, mumbling about being cold, looking absolutely tiny in comparison to his own body. 

Or how she’d sigh dramatically whenever she had to stand to do something, hopping around the room and never asking for help, despite the fact Taehyung would be the first to jump up and whisk her off her feet completely, just carrying her to wherever it was she needed to be, chiding her for not asking for the help she so clearly needed. 

Namjoon decided to go to the library, curling up in the chair that YN usually occupied in the mornings before everyone else woke up. His mind was swirling, automatically analyzing why he felt the way he did, instead of really feeling those feelings. Absently, he stroked the spine of the book that YN had been reading, a soft smile gracing his face when he realized that it was the one he had recommended when she was still completely bedridden during those first few days. 

He glanced down at the small table beside the chair, realizing for the first time that YN had left a little notebook under the book. He picks it up, flipping through it and quickly realizing that she had been taking notes over things she was eager to discuss with him, which should have made him happy, but in reality just made him feel worse because she wasn’t there to actually follow through. 

Namjoon chuckled to himself as he imagined YN, absolutely tiny in the chair, curled up in one of the fluffy blankets she always seemed to be wrapped up in, lovingly devouring the book that he had recommended to her, scribbling notes onto her notepad for later. He realized absently that he had missed one of the ways that she showed her growing love and appreciation for him was through this small action, making sure that she knew what she was going to say before their discussions. Namjoon was surprised when a drop of water fell onto the page in the notebook YN had marked, not realizing until he sniffled that it was his own tears. 

Yoongi locked himself up in his Genius Lab as soon as YN was in the car, headphones on as he did this or that to the song he had been working on. He tried to ignore the fact that he couldn’t hear the soft clicks of a keyboard behind him. He tried to ignore the sinking feeling of being lonely.

 He had never once felt lonely in his studio, not before he started letting YN hang out on the couch as he worked.

 Not until he got used to spinning around in his chair and seeing YN there, typing away on her laptop. He remembered hearing her little sighs of frustration or exasperation when something doesn’t work out quite right, her brow furrowed, her tongue sticking out slightly, with a growing fondness.

Yes, Yoongi liked being alone. He enjoyed the silence, he enjoyed his own company. He had always liked being alone, it was how he recharged. And it wasn’t until he let YN into his most private sanctum that he had ever really felt lonely. 

It wasn’t until Jin rounded all of them up for dinner that they realized that every single one of them were missing YN. 

“This is bullshit.” 

Yoongi is the one who speaks, heads turning towards him. None of them had really been in the mood for much talking, but none of them had figured Yoongi, of all people, would be the one to break the tense silence. 

“What, I know you’re all thinking it too. This is bullshit.” Yoongi glares at his plate, taking a deep breath before he looks up at the others. 

“None of us wanted YN to leave. YN didn’t want to leave. And now we are all miserable.” Yoongi stands now, not bothering to push in the chair he had been sitting on. 

“I don’t care what any of you do. I don’t care what the consequences are. I’m going to YN’s.” Yoongi’s eyes sweep the faces of the six boys he loves the most, a fiery intensity radiating off of him in a way that has them all flinching away from him. 

“Yoongi you can’t ju-” Namjoon starts, standing and going over to try to calm Yoongi down, but a sharp growl from Yoongi makes him stop in his tracks. 

“No!” Yoongi’s voice drops an octave as he steps closer to Namjoon himself, squaring up with the leader in a way that could very easily lead to a fight.

 “You know as well as I do Alpha,” Yoongi spits the word like it’s acid on his tongue. “she smells like one of us. She has our scent all over her. If they find out we let her go, that we aren’t around her all the time anymore, they’re going to kill her.” 

Namjoon opens his mouth to say something, anger bubbling up in him like a cursed well, when Jin stands, pushing himself between the two Alphas. 

“Both of you! Stop it!” Jin stands, making sure each of them are an arm’s length away from each other. “We all miss YN, but there’s a reason she’s not here. As much as it might seem like it, she isn’t one of us. She doesn’t belong with us.” 

The other boys are all standing now, helping to make sure Yoongi and Namjoon stay away from each other, trying to calm both of them down. A fight between the Alphas would not end well.

“How could you say that?” It’s Hoseok who speaks this time, his voice sounding oddly small. 

“Because it’s been almost a hundred years since there was a lost Omega! You all know how rare they are, seeing how strong the Omega gene is. We knew her uncle, and he didn’t have a lick of wolf in him, even if she managed to somehow get some wolf in her, it can’t be enough for her to be able to pack bond.” Jin flicks his eyes between the other boys, focusing his attention on keeping Namjoon behind him. 

It’s silent for what feels like hours. 

“Then why do I feel like I lost a piece of me, huh?” It’s Taehyung who speaks up this time, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides, tears rising in his eyes. “Explain that, Hyung.” His voice is barely above a whisper, choked out over a growing lump in his throat. 

“I-” Jin starts, the words dying in his throat as he watches Taehyung turn into the closest person, seeking the comfort of someone else. 

For once, Yoongi opened his arms to Taehyung, glaring at Jin from over the other man’s shoulder, trying to comfort him. 

“I don’t know.” Jin finally admits, his face falling. 

Again, the room falls silent, only the soft sniffles of Taehyung breaking the deafening quiet of the room. 

“I think we all feel the way Tae does, don’t we?” Namjoon speaks for the first time in a while, the anger he had felt having finally subsided almost completely. There are nods from everyone. 

“The feeling is new, and we don’t want to make a mistake. If we report YN as being lost, she will become a target. If we don’t, we will. Let’s wait for at least a week before we approach her again.” Namjoon eyes the others in the room. “But let’s keep patrols heavy in her part of the woods.” 

Yoongi glares at Namjoon, thoughts swirling. A whole week without YN, knowing that she’s in pain being away from them? It sounded like downright torture to him. 

“Yoongi, Hyung, you know how big of a deal it is to be the pack with a lost Omega. She’ll become a target, just because she can’t handle half as much as we can. It’d be easy to not only to just kill her, but to break her spirit, to force her to tell them about our weaknesses as a pack. She’d have to be with at least one of us almost all the time, have to live with us. She’d have to give up big parts of her freedom, and the YN we know wouldn’t enjoy that at all.” Namjoon pauses, taking a deep breath. 

“We have to be sure before we approach her with this. For all we know, she won’t ever fully present and YN isn’t really one of the lost at all.” Namjoon brings a hand up to rub at his temple, a headache starting from the strong mix of emotions. 

Yoongi sighs, Taehyung finally detaching himself from the smaller man as Yoongi runs a hand through his hair. 

“You’re right Joon. I know you’re right.” He lets out another, more exasperated sigh before he continues, “It’s just hard, ya know? Waiting another week feels like torture, because I know, I know, that YN is hurting. And we caused it.” 

The other boys nod, giving murmurs of agreement as they start to dissipate, their meal forgotten as they begin to retreat again. For whatever reason, even the most other-person oriented of the pack wanted to be alone, wanted to have a minute to process everything that was going on by themselves. 

“Jin, Yoongi. Can we go talk further in the office? We need to actually figure out what to do next.” Namjoon catches Jin by the shoulder before he walks out of the room, reaching for Yoongi as well, even though he was across the room. 

Yoongi just nods, Jin letting out a short hum of approval. The trio then turn in unison, heading out towards the office space that Namjoon used so often. 

[crowensbaby]

CHAPTER 2

“Mom, we're not staying at the hotel, are we? I do not like them!" although they had woken up at a very unusual time that morning, Vanessa had not slept for the whole flight and now that they were about to land, it seemed that not even the jet-lag had calmed her "No Nessa. We will stay at Aunt Mer's house. So you can play with Zola, Bailey and Ellis as much as you like. "" Are they coming to the hospital kindergarten too? " “Zola no more. She is grown up now and she has to go to school. Now stand still and I fasten your seat belt ".

Within minutes, mother and daughter were running into Meredith who was waiting for them with someone else beside her. The little girl immediately let go of Cristina's hand and ran to meet the two people “Aunt Mer! Aunt Lexie! " she hugged both of them tightly smiling "Honey we missed you!" the cardiothoracic surgeon made her appearance at that moment "Apparently you stole my daughter" she joked, as she hugged her person and her best interne, who was now a close friend almost on the level of her sister "Don't get me wrong but that's enough for me my children. Then she is literally a mini version of you embodied in a female version of Owen! " "I would gladly steal she but I think Mark is enough Sofia and the baby on the way" continued the game Lexie, putting a hand on her baby bump of six months of pregnancy "Mom who is Owen?" Vanessa had been silent listening to them until, she had not realized that she did not know the man who had mentioned Aunt Meredith. Cristina blanched but she still tried not to be noticed by her daughter, and Lexie opted to change the subject “What do you think darling if we all go home now? You will be tired. You rest for a while and afterwards, when Zola, Bailey, Ellis and Sofia get back from school, you play everything together, will you? " the little girl smiled in agreement, momentarily forgetting the initial topic of the conversation.

After returning to the Shepherd-Grey's dream house, the two Yangs settled in the room that had always been destined for the Asian and slept for several hours. Jet lag was devastating for anyone!

They woke up just before dinner because four hurricane children had thrown themselves onto their bed as soon as Meredith told them they had arrived “AUNT CRISTINA! VANESSA! HOW BEAUTIFUL TO SEE YOU! " both laughed as they were embraced with all the strength they possessed. "We too missed you little beasts" said Cristina "Ness, we have to tell you so many things! Come to the hospital tomorrow, right aunt? We need to introduce you to lots of new people! " when she spoke with this enthusiasm, Sofia resembled Arizona much more than she aesthetically resembled Callie. “I think so… indeed certainly. I promise I'll bring she to you soon after, however, first let's go and see Alex and Jo "while they were talking, the whole little company ended up in the living room where the hosts, Lexie, Mark, Callie and Arizona were sitting on the sofa" CRISTINA! O MY GOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE ?! " the orthopedist did not immediately notice the little girl that her friend had in her arms until she had almost hugged her "Awww! And who is this beautiful teddy bear? " Arizona said, approaching and stroking her redhead hair. “This is Vanessa, my daughter. Say hello honey ”“ Hello. Are you mum's friends? " the two brides looked at the curly hair with disbelief “Moms, she is Zola's cousin I told you about. Can we give you a tour of the hospital tomorrow? " "Of course sweetie. There are no problems for us. Go ask Dad and Aunt Meredith now. ”The whole time they hadn't stopped looking at the - apparently - mother of that little girl who looked so much like Owen Hunt. Cristina felt very uncomfortable unfortunately, she knew that sooner or later she would have to talk about it so, with a look she made it clear to the two to wait until after dinner.

But apparently "after dinner" she wasn't just going to talk to Callie and Arizona because Miss Alexandra Caroline Gray had decided that throwing a little party with people from the hospital for Cristina Yang's return would be a great idea! Fortunately, some had not been able to come because they had emergencies. Present were Bailey with Ben and Tuck, Jackson and Harriet, Maggie Pierce - Meredith's other sister -, Teddy Altman and a very pregnant Amelia Shepherd!

A strange sensation formed in the pit of the Asian's stomach when she saw her, thinking that Owen hadn't taken so long to replace her with someone else who wanted to give him children without thinking twice "It's not his. As I predicted they didn't last. ”Altman had stopped behind her and now she was also reading her thoughts“ Teddy! Oh my God, look at you! Is this a time of year when everyone is pregnant? " “It may be but, the next is Amelia. She could give birth at any moment and, if it happened tonight, I would not want to be in the father of the child who, as I told you, is not Owen "" Oh, you weren't kidding? Weren't they married? As far as I know, they were "" You said well, they were. A lot of things happened and they got divorced. About a year ago a new God of orthopedics arrived - actually two but the other is not important now - and… well now Amelia is with him who, of course, is the father of the child "the owner of the KlausMann Institute felt. immediately as one of those burdens she carried on her shoulders, he took off, reassuring her at least on one aspect of her life.

In the end, the dinner was not as bad as she had expected, quite the opposite! She had talked a lot with Teddy who, had also introduced her to Maggie Pierce. Apparently the girl is a genius since she graduated in medicine at 18! Apparently her intelligence belongs to the family.

She then had joked with Jackson and April - arrived just before the start of dinner - and had discovered the little girl with whom the man had arrived belonged to both of them. Not that she was surprised, those two were absolutely made for each other.

But the important part of the evening came at that moment: after Shepherd and Pierce had left, all the others had made themselves comfortable waiting for Cristina to clarify some things while, all the children were playing in the other room " You are doctors! You all know how to create a child! " began the Asian, trying a little to dampen the tension "This is not the point Yang! How could you hide such a thing from him ?! " Miranda Bailey and her scolding “I never wanted to do that! When I realized that I could have been pregnant I was shocked but I immediately took the test. It came out negative and, before you ask, I also did the blood test. That too was negative. So when I realized I was actually pregnant, I was in my fifth month. When Vanessa was born the first thing I thought was that I had to tell Owen but then, they told me he was married and I ... I was afraid of ruining his life "Meredith, next to the cardiothoracic surgeon, shook her hand, in 'exact moment when all the children entered screaming in the living room "Are you bad, Mom?" her little girl is too bright “No darling. Did you have to tell me something? " "Did you know that Harriet also comes to the daycare?" "Yes, I know. Her parents work in that hospital. They’re that woman with red hair and the black man with green eyes. But you have to promise me not to run away from daycare, okay? " “Okay mom. I promise you ”“ Good darling ”and the two Yang embraced.

Tonight, when the whole Shepherd-Gray house was in complete silence, Cristina thought only that tomorrow would be the hardest day she had ever experienced.

[drreporting]

Infections of A Different Kind of Human

3. ALL IS SOFT INSIDE

“And how long has she been like this?”

“Going on 18 hours now,” Owen explained. Ryan looked at Amelia, unconscious and tubed, with a variety of wires and lines running to her. He sighed, running his fingers through his hair, which he’d recently cut pretty short, so it didn’t do much to quell his anxiety. He couldn’t understand why Amelia had left his name on her medical forms.

“Do you have any idea why she would’ve still had you as her proxy?” Owen inquired, twiddling with the hospital band around his wrist. “I thought she would’ve updated it or something, especially after James…”

“If I remember Amelia correctly, she gambles,” Ryan accurately described, “Perhaps she gambled on your marriage working out.” How could she be so reckless? “I have no problem transferring the proxy to you, if that’s what you want,” he appreciatively offered, adding a joke after, “From one divorcee to the other.” He couldn’t take on the pressure of making life or death choices for her, and Owen would likely know all the medical jargon better than he would’ve, so it made sense to transfer it to him.

“I’m not entirely sure if I should take it,” Owen sombrely replied. When Ryan looked at him with a confused expression, he said, “We weren’t exactly in a good place when…”

“So?”

“I literally caught her cheating on me, I don’t think she’d want me making medical decisions on her behalf,” Owen put it bluntly.

“That’s pretty harsh, don’t you think?” Ryan queried, folding his arms, “Isn’t this supposed to be the love of your life, or something?”

“Yeah, but I am clearly not the love of her life anymore, so I don’t think I should be making those decisions,” Owen clarified, sternly. They were not on the best of terms when the accident had occurred and adding the consent of her medical health to that would only make things worse if she eventually woke up. “Give it to Derek, or Meredith. I think that’s best.”

“I think I’ll keep it, actually,” Ryan pondered, eyeing the trauma surgeon as he unfolded his arms, “She can decide what she wants, once she’s awake.”

Owen sighed, submitting. “Sure, why not.”

“How are the kids?” he asked, changing the subject, “How’s R junior doing?”

“He is pretty shaken up,” the red head confessed, “Rosie is…I don’t know. And the twins are pretty young, sounds think they’re coping alright. They don’t like sudden, loud noises much anymore.”

“Yeah, I could imagine,” Ryan sympathized. He walked over to Owen and patted him on his good shoulder before saying, “I’m gonna go talk to him before I leave, if that’s okay.” Without looking at him, Owen nodded, keeping his eyes on Amelia’s small frame, willing her to wake up.

The next day made it two days since Amelia had been shot, and a little over 36 hours since her surgery had been done. As per usual, there was an entourage in Amelia’s room, consisting of Derek, Meredith, Maggie, Ryan, Owen, and more recently, Tom. He’d offered to stay for the while to maintain her condition, and then hopefully query about the patient Amelia had been speaking of to him, the entire reason for his visit. They lazed about the room for most of the day, offering support to each other, and to Owen, as they patiently awaited Amelia’s outcome.

---

Sometime in the evening, they’d all received overhead pages from a nurse, all calling them to Amelia’s room.

“Tom?” Owen rasped as he all but slid into the patient room, Ryan following closely behind, “What’s going on?”

“She’s waking up,” Tom voiced calmly. He’d already called the nurse and began adjusting her pumps for the medications she was being administered when he began hearing a soft cough coming from her.

“Yes, she’s definitely waking up…”

“Well, is she going to open her eyes?”

“If you’re patient enough, Dr. Hunt…”

Amelia opened her eyes to a crowd of people standing over her. She only recognised two of them in the room and they looked…odd?

“Amelia, can you hear us?” Tom asked, shining his penlight in her eyes. Why wouldn’t she be able to hear them? What was Tom doing here?

“Can you try talking?” he asked further, offering her a cup of water with a straw in it. Amelia took the cup and had a small sip, clearing her throat as she figured out what she wanted to say first.

“Where…where am I?” she whispered hoarsely.

“You’re at Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital, in Seattle,” the Hopkins neurosurgeon expertly answered, a look of concern crossing his face for a flash of a second, “Do you remember any of what happened two days ago?” Two days ago? Amelia shook her head. She looked over at Derek, then at a blonde standing next to him, holding his hand. She figured that was probably the Meredith that Addison had been speaking about. Next to her stood another blonde, more strawberry in colour. His face reeked with fear and stress, and Amelia wondered what would’ve caused him to look so horrified.

“You were in an accident a couple days ago,” Tom explained, “You were wounded, but everything’s okay now; surgery was successful.” She nodded, showing that she understood what he was saying. Looking around the room once more, she observed the faces of the people at her bedside.

“What’s the last thing you remember, Amy?” Derek offered softly, trying to coax her back from wherever in her mind she was right now.

Amelia blankly looked at him before looking away and shrugging. “I wasn’t in Seattle.”

“Do you remember me?” Ryan piped up, garnering the attention of everyone in the room for a moment. She looked at him, at his jet-black hair and icy blue eyes, his loosely fitted plaid shirt and washed-out jeans, and his soft, welcoming smile.

Shaking her head, Amelia responded, “No, but you’re very cute otherwise.” Ryan quirked an eyebrow at her, not expecting a flirtatious reply, while Owen scoffed and averted his eyes as he rolled them.

“Amelia, we met over ten years ago,” Ryan vaguely replied, trying to help her remember, “In LA?”

Amelia raised her eyebrows in shock as though she remembered something, taking another sip of her water. Ryan looked hopefully at her as she continued, “I was in LA.”

He sighed, combing his fingers through his hair. “So, then you don’t remember me…” Amelia furrowed her eyebrows, slightly annoyed that he was asking her the same question again. Why did he want her to remember something about him? “We met at a party?” Ryan explained to her.

“I’ve met a lot of men at parties,” she bluntly replied, “Excuse me if I don’t remember you exactly.”

Owen’s eyes widened. “Wait what-,”

“Okay, let’s give our patient some time to gather her thoughts; she’s only just woken up,” Tom voiced, trying to temporarily brush everything under the rug, “In the meantime, I’m going to need to see her most recent CT scans, and perhaps we can get some new ones?”

“They’re all on the tablet,” Derek explained, pointing at the device that was in Tom’s hand.

“No they’re not,” he  replied, “I imagine I’d have to access them physically in your dinosaur hospital?”

“They’re supposed to be available on the iPad.” Derek took the device from him and began scanning through his sister’s patient chart, only to find out that Tom was right. There was no file, nor record, of any brain scans done on her.

With smoke metaphorically piping through his ears, Derek stepped outside and went straight to the front desk, seeing Isaac there. His eye was still shining purple from Owen’s elbow to his face, and he had to admit that he was kind of glad now that Owen had done it. While Tom was still making his way over, the Shepherd asked, “Where are Amelia’s CT scans?”

Isaac looked up at him and furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t know, they’re supposed to be on the system. I sent an intern to request the scans once she was out of surgery.”

“Wow you must really hate Shepherd to have done that,” Koracick chimed in as he arrived at the desk, “What did she do to you?”

“What? She didn’t do anything to me…”

“You secretly in love with her or something? Did she break your heart?” he further provoked the attending neurosurgeon, making him stand up angrily to defend his actions, “She the one who gave you the black eye?"

“No, it was me,” Owen intervened, making his presence known. Looking to Isaac, he added, “And if there’s something wrong with her brain, you’ll have more than that to worry about.”

“I’m sorry, was that a threat, Dr. Hunt?” Isaac challenged, staring him in his eye. “Perhaps I should report you to HR?”

“And maybe I should report you to the board for negligence concerning a missing CT scan on one of your patients who exhibited neurological symptoms,” he retorted. If Owen could only get his hand out of this sling and hit him, he would. Tom watched the lesser neurosurgeon with a satisfying smirk, while Derek glared at him. To say Amelia had an army, was an understatement.

Isaac wanted to respond, but he knew he was in the wrong and had possibly jeopardised the brain function of his boss by assigning an intern to do his job, so he relented. “I’ll call up CT and get it done right away.”

“Perhaps I should take over head of neuro here,” Tom teased as Isaac walked away, knowing he could be heard, “Looks like this place might fall apart without Shepherd.”

---

When Amelia awoke, she was in a patient room, lying down in bed. Owen’s head laying against the side of the bed, and she would’ve thought he was asleep if it wasn’t for his soft snoring. Weak and in pain, she was barely able to stretch her fingers to poke his head, but he felt the action and his face instantly popped up to look at her. “You’re okay,” he sighed in relief, taking her hand as he let more tears fall, fresher than the ones that fell earlier.

“What happened?” she whispered hoarsely, letting him take her hand in his two larger ones.

“You collapsed during surgery,” he explained, not sure how to explain the rest of the story, “You…Robbins said you were having an ectopic pregnancy. 8 weeks.” Amelia closed her eyes as the tears began to fall. “There was blood leaking from your fallopian tube when she went in…” The words coming out of his mouth slowly faded into the background as she absorbed the information. She couldn’t help but feel like she’d spited herself by their earlier conversation about having an abortion, as illogical as it sounded.

“…there was nothing that she could’ve done,” Owen finished, waiting for her response.

“So, I had a miscarriage,” she repeated, to which he nodded. Amelia averted her gaze and looked out the window, unsure of how to process the information, if she could.

“Are you okay?” he asked, not expecting her silence. He expected an outcry, tears, emotions all over, but there was just silence; Amelia seemed unfazed, numb. “I mean, I know you’re not okay, but…”

“I’m okay,” she said unsurely. Truthfully, she didn’t know if she was really okay, or if the emotions were just waiting to burst out of her at some untimely point in the future. It was hard to tell when all she could think of was how stupid it was that she was actually anxious earlier about how to go about raising a fifth child. Now she felt numb, the kind of numbness that came from touching ice for too long. The type of numbness that stung you after a while, and made your hand cramp.

“Is there anything you need?” he further asked, trying to determine what she might want right now, “Should I bring in the kids?”

“No, don’t bring them,” she responded, pulling her hand out of his grasp, “Can you…can I be alone?” Alone? Amelia never liked being alone with her thoughts, Owen knew this.

“Okay…are you sure?” he sought to confirm, a little disappointed that she couldn’t seem to make eye contact with him, “We don’t have to talk or anything, I could just stay here quietly?”

“Alone is fine, thanks,” she coldly answered him, still not looking in his direction. Sighing, Owen stood and left, looking back once at her small figure, still in bed, facing away from him. After that, Amelia had slowly, but surely, begun to shut him out. To the point where he no longer knew if she even had feelings.

---

“How long do I have to stay in this thing?” Amelia complained. They were in the CT room now, with Owen, Derek and Tom on the other side of the glass, awaiting her results.

Pressing a finger on the mic, Tom responded, “If you stay still and stop talking, we could be finished in less time.”

“What are you even doing here in Seattle?” she further complained as the nurse injected the dye, “Did you lose your job at Hopkins?”

“Far from it,” Koracick replied, “You called me on a consult for a patient, but you never told me who the patient was.” He turned off the mic and looked to Owen and Derek, adding, “Did she ever tell you she had a crush on me back in the day?” Derek rolled his eyes while Owen furrowed his brows in confusion; he really didn’t like this guy.

“Just do the scan,” Derek insisted, a disgusted look on his face. Tom chuckled, enjoying the discomfort he was causing amidst Amelia’s colleagues.

“Okay, scans are coming up now, stay still,” he said into the mic once more. The three doctors watched in anticipation as the scans slowly presented, one by one. As the scans showed their final forms, Derek and Tom furrowed their eyebrows in confusion, leaning in closer to assess them.

“Is that…?” Derek began, unable to say the words aloud.

“What? What’s wrong?” Owen asked, scooting closer to look at the screen, “Oh…”

“That is a…” Tom started, for once at a loss for words, “…big tumour.” He looked up at Amelia through the glass, just as she came out of the CT machine.

“So what’s wrong with my brain?” the Shepherd naively asked, noticing their horrified looks, “Do I have a slow leak bleed or something?”

“No, but you definitely have something…” Tom vaguely replied, giving the scans another once over.

—-

“So these are brain scans from over ten years ago,” Tom explained, handing Amelia the tablet to show her the images, “They were done while you were in LA, as part of your hiring process at a private practice.”

She looked at the scans. “I don’t remember this scan.”

“Yes, I know,” the neurosurgeon humoured her. He swiped the images to the left, landing on her most recent scan. “These are the scans that we took just now.” Amelia looked at the scans in front of her with a look on her face that was hard to read.

Looking up at Tom, and the rest of the doctors in the room, she sought to confirm, “I have a brain tumour?”

“You do, a grade one meningioma,” Derek confirmed, “It would explain why you called Tom. Actually, it explains a lot of things you’ve done over the past five months.” Meredith held Derek’s hand, hoping to offer up some sort of comfort as they displayed the truth for her. Truthfully, a massive brain tumour was the last thing Meredith had thought of when wondering why Amelia was so erratically crazy.

“How long has it been there?” she queried in a small voice, looking back at the scans.

“Likely around ten years or so,” Tom estimated, “You would’ve begun showing signs from a year to two years ago. Pregnancy would also speed up the growth process, so it’s hard to determine how long you’ve had it for, or when exactly you would’ve begun to show symptoms.” Looking to Owen and Derek, Tom asked, “Has she been pregnant over the last five years?” Both surgeons nodded.

“Wait a minute,” Amelia stopped them, “I was pregnant? How many times?” Pressing a hand to her chest, she added, “Oh my god, do I have kids?”

“Five times,” Owen relayed quietly, anticipating a negative reaction. He looked to Ryan, who seemed just as uncomfortable as he did, divulging this information.

“Who’s the father?” she asked slowly, looking suspiciously between Ryan and Owen.

“Me,” was the response that came out of both their mouths.

Opening her eyes even wider, the youngest Shepherd pursed her lips, saying, “Two baby daddies sounds like something that would happen to me.” Both men blushed, averting their eyes as they fiddled with the clothing they wore. “So, which one of you am I still screwing?”

“Amy!” Derek berated her.

“I don’t even like kids.”

“Looks like someone lost their filter again,” Meredith murmured coyly, receiving an eye roll from Derek.

“I am…well I was…” Owen tried to begin to explain their relationship, “We were married. We no longer are. We were together, but I don’t think we were around the time that your accident…”

“So, I am a single mother with four children and two baby daddies,” she begun, trying to make sense of the complicated situation, “And…is there an affair I should be aware of as well? Because that sounds like something I’d do.”

“Is this the tumour talking?” Ryan sought to confirm from Derek.

“I’m not even sure anymore,” Derek sighed.

“This doesn’t explain the memory loss, though,” Amelia accurately pointed out.

“Yes, that’s the only problem,” Tom agreed with her, “The seizure you suffered after your injury would’ve likely had a part to play, but we aren’t seeing anything on your scans. Now, there is a possibility that the tumour is masking it, but we won’t know until we do more testing. The other, faster option, of figuring out what’s going on in there, is surgery.”

“And when can we do surgery?”

“Amy, one step at a time,” Derek condescended his little sister.

“Says the Shepherd without a massive tumour in their head,” she sarcastically retorted, glaring at Derek.

“You need to heal and regain your strength before you can qualify to do this surgery. It is a fairly large tumour, after all; even if it’s not cancerous.”

“Let’s reassess in four weeks,” Tom suggested, taking the tablet from her, “That’ll give you time to heal from your abdominal wounds, and hopefully you’ll be able to regain some of your memories, give us a better idea of how your brain is working and healing.”

Amelia nodded. “And what do I do in the meantime? What if I don’t remember?”

“Heal, get back into your routine,” Tom offered as he slowly exited the room, “Maybe learn to like kids?”

At the mention of the word kids, Amelia gulped. “Okay…” She looked to Owen and Ryan, asking, “When should I…?”

“Maybe we should wait a little longer?” Owen offered unsurely.

“Owen, they miss her,” Ryan defended, “especially Ryan. Let them see her for a bit.”

“I don’t know much about kids, but I’m pretty sure they’d be dying to see their mom,” Amelia offered intuitively, “So…why not?” Ryan and Owen exchanged confusing looks. “What, are they gonna hate me or something?”

“Well,” Ryan was the first to speak up, “the Amelia I remember, isn’t very good with kids…”

“And I think one of them may have a bit of an affliction with your decisions,” Owen offered vaguely.

“So is that a no?” Owen and Ryan exchanged an unsteady gaze..

—-

“Are you sure that’s what you saw?”

Rosie nodded her head. “She was there with Dr. Isaac.”

“But why would she do something like that?” Ryan exclaimed, betrayed and confused by his mother’s finnicky behaviour. Rosie shrugged, hugging her arms around her shoulder as she looked around the conference room. She was having a hard time feeling compassion or guilt for her mother’s condition, after having seen her betray her father. Yet she couldn’t figure out why she jumped into action to help save her life. She felt conflicted, and numb.

“What are we gonna do if they break up for real this time?” Rosie asked her older brother. She and Ryan were far too familiar with the back and forth that appeared to always be going on between their parents. It left a consistent feeling of anxiety in the air for both of them.

“We stick together,” Ryan assured her, putting his arm around her shoulder.

“Okay guys, are you ready?” Owen asked as he came into the waiting room to collect them and take them to Amelia. Both kids shrugged, not entirely sure how they were supposed to be feeling right now. Ryan felt emotionally exhausted, while Rosie felt emotionally numb. Realistically, neither kid wanted to deal with anything right now. Rosie just wanted to go home and sleep in her own bed. And Ryan, well oddly enough there was a book he was hoping to get home and finish before all this had happened.

Stooping to their level, the father asked, “What’s going on? I thought you guys would be more excited to see your mom?”

“I am,” Ryan defended lamely, looking down at his lap. No one could ever doubt that Ryan loved his mother with all his heart. “I’m just…”

“We’re just tired, daddy,” Rosie cut in, saving the day with what she would soon learn was called a half truth, “Can we go home?”

Owen frowned, not believing the response, but going along with it. “Okay, yeah. Yeah, we can do that.” He stood up and held his hand out for Rosie, and Ryan jumped off the couch to follow them.

While Owen took the kids home, Ryan sat in the patient room, keeping Amelia company until the trauma surgeon returned. Although a bit odd, it was funny and sentimental talking to the Amelia that he had initially fallen in love with all those years ago.

Taking her hand in his, he asked, “How have you been feeling?”

“I feel like I have really bad food poisoning,” she joked, making him chuckle, “And my head is spinning with all this information.” Ryan nodded sympathetically, imagining how confusing it could be to wake up in the middle of your life and not know anything. “Where is the Owen guy? I thought he was bringing the kids.”

“Oh, he ended up taking them home,” Ryan summarized carefully, “They were pretty tired, and they’ve already missed three days of school, so you know.”

“Oh,” Amelia hummed, looking around her patient room. Mumbling softly, she insightfully stated, “Why do I get the feeling that no one is really fond of me right now?” Ryan opened his mouth and then closed it, unsure of if or how to answer her question.

“It’s a complicated situation, Amelia…”

“Feels more like everyone thinks I’m a bitch,” she retorted, looking outside her patient doors at the personnel on her floor. “I don’t blame them; I probably was a bitch.”

“They’re still dealing with the whole situation,” he explained, squeezing her hand, “A lot happened before you got injured. There were a lot of feelings in the air.” Just then, Owen finally reappeared, seeing the two talking and holding hands and choosing to wait by the nurses’ desk outside her room. Standing up and letting her hand go, Ryan added, “There’s still a lot of feelings in the air. Don’t be too harsh on him.” He patted the back of her hand before exiting the room and going to the desk to speak to Owen. “She’s all yours.”

“Hey, what’s your deal?” Owen accused him in an edgy voice. His eyes were a bit red, and he looked pretty agitated and tired, but Ryan chose to entertain his erratic behaviour still.

“What do you mean?”

“Suddenly, you’re just choosing to stay here and take care of her?” the trauma surgeon assumed, putting his hands on his hips as he tried to tower over Ryan and appear bigger. “I bet you’re real glad she doesn’t remember anything, huh? Now you two can start over…”

“Owen, you’re being unnecessarily weird,” Ryan cut him off, “Amelia is the mother of my son, I just want to make sure that she makes a full recovery.” He was being illogically aggressive, and Ryan knew it was likely because of all that had happened in the last few days, so he tried to be understanding. “I’m not jumping back in the race or anything. I’m just making sure she’s comfortable.”

“By flirting with her?”

“Hunt, I am not the enemy here.”

“Ha, where have I heard that before,” he dismissed him, ready to add to his statement before his phone rang. “This is Dr. Hunt.” Listening to the man on the other line, his anger began to escalate. “I’m on my way.”

“Hey, where are you going?” Ryan called as the trauma surgeon stormed down the hall. Owen ignored his question, making him decide to follow him out of the hospital.

“Owen!” Ryan yelled, following him to the parking lot. When he got close enough, he grabbed him by his shoulder. “Hey-,”

“What?” the surgeon asked through gritted teeth, spinning around to glare at him.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to the station,” he replied, “They found Amelia’s car, and the person who stole it.”

“And what are you planning to do when you get there?” Ryan accused, knowing Owen wasn’t thinking straight right now.

“Look, either you come with me or you don’t,” Owen said, pulling his car keys out of his wallet with his good hand, “But I’m going.” Sighing, Ryan combed his fingers through his hair as he weighed his options, realising the only one was to go with him. Amelia wouldn’t forgive him if he allowed Owen to do something ill-advised. The question now was, would he be able to stop him?

[ddixons-angel]

Fated: Season 5

Summary: Gloria Rhee narrowly escapes Atlanta with her brother as the outbreak reaches the city. Luckily, they find a camp outside the city and together, they fend through encounters with the living and undead.

Starts a little before Season 1 and then follows the main storyline of the show.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Glenn Sister!OC

Warnings: major TWD spoilers, language, violence (the typical TWD stuff)

A/N: And we’re back! So last week, our group finally made it to Alexandria and Gloria found her sister was there too! As I expected, she wasn’t very well liked xD she does get better though... eventually :P I really can’t wait to see what you guys think of this chapter, hehe let’s get into it!

Chapter 9

The next day, the group had been told to explore, get to know the place and meet people. Rick was surprisingly encouraging of it and so the group took off. Gloria decided to leave her daggers at home, she had planned to check out the community’s infirmary and if she was to work there, having daggers strapped to her sides may not be the best first impression. Gloria walks out to the porch where Daryl was seated on the floor, his back leaning on the rails. She looks at him and tilts her head, blinking.

“What are you doing just sitting there?” she asks, taking a few steps to him.

He shrugs, “‘m good here.” 

“Are you sure? You can take a walk with me,” Gloria says with a smile.

“The sun’s out, thought ya only liked full moon walks.” Daryl says, a hint of a smile on his lips. 

She chuckles and shakes her head, “I like walks with you, sun or moon.”

“Ya go off, I’ll be here...” Daryl says, not moving from his spot on the porch floor. 

“Okay, I’m just going to check out the infirmary, I’ll be back soon,” she tells him as she starts to go down the steps.

“Ya ain’ gon’ bring yer daggers?” Daryl calls out as he notices he doesn’t have her weapons on her.

“I don’t think I’ll need them, pretty sure I can take down anyone who comes at me here,” Gloria says, earning a snort of a laugh from Daryl.

“I think we should check out their pantry, see how well they do on runs,” Glenn says as he walks out of the house and down the steps with Maggie trailing behind him.

“Room for one more?” Gloria calls out as she follows suit behind her brother. 

Glenn chuckles at her choice of words then the three of them walk down the street together. They come across the house that is supposedly Gena’s house, she made sure to let Glenn know which one was her’s. A young man around Glenn’s age steps down the porch of that house and both Glenn and Gloria stop in their tracks when they see who the man is. Maggie looks at the two in confusion, trying to figure out why they both stopped dead in their tracks. 

“You’re kidding me... right?” Glenn groans.

“Okay... who else are we going to find here...” Gloria grimaces. 

“Glenn! Gloria!” the young man who came out of Gena’s house runs towards them and tackles Glenn in a hug as Gloria swiftly dodged out of the way. 

Glenn makes a face at his sister just before the man pulls away, grinning at Glenn, “I seriously can’t believe you’re here, man!” 

“Jacob... I can’t believe it either,” Glenn says, an uncomfortable smile on his face. 

“I never thought I’d ever see you again!” Jacob grins. 

“I never wanted to see you again...” Gloria mumbles under her breath, making Jacob look at her, but he still had a grin on his face. 

“Gloria... I missed you so much!” he says as he makes his way towards her.

“W-woah!” Gloria exclaims as Jacob picks her up in a hug. 

“You have no idea how happy I was when Gena told me you’re both here,” Jacob says, putting Gloria down and looking back at Glenn.

When Jacob turns to look at Glenn, Gloria signals to him that she is going to go and to keep him distracted. He catches her eye and nods, knowing just how uncomfortable Jacob made her feel. 

“Yeah...” Glenn says, then he gestures to Maggie, “this is Maggie, my wife.”

“Oh right! I heard from Gena that you got married in this? Woah, she’s a beauty, man.” Jacob says, shaking Maggie’s hand. 

As they make small talk, Gloria backs away and mouths ‘I love you, brother’ to Glenn then she quickly takes her leave. She turns on the next street over where the infirmary was located, Aaron had let her know where it was earlier. Gloria walks up the steps to the building and knocks on the door, waiting a short moment before the door opened. 

“Hi?” a woman with red hair in a ponytail, and glasses greets her, seeming somewhat nervous at Gloria’s sudden appearance. 

“Hi, um, I’m Gloria.” she smiles at the woman.

“I’m Denise,” she says, awkwardly waving her hand. 

“I’m part of the new group that came in yesterday, pretty sure everyone knows about us...” Gloria says, causing Denise to nod, “I just wanted to check out the infirmary, I’m apparently gonna be one of the medics working with the doctor? Pete, I think his name was?”

“Oh! You’re one of the new medics! Well, I’m one of the... other medics, please come in,” Denise says with a smile as she invites her into the infirmary, ���did you want me to get Pete? I can if you want me to.”

Gloria chuckles and shakes her head, “it’s okay, I don’t actually start until tomorrow, at least that’s what Deanna told all of us. I just wanted to check it out here, if the doctor’s not in I wouldn’t want to bother him on his downtime given he always has to be on-call.”

Denise nods, pursing her lips, “you... actually worked in a hospital... didn’t you?”

Gloria nods but furrows her brows, noticing the woman’s drop in facial expression, “what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing... just... Pete’s a surgeon, you worked in a hospital, and the other medic probably has some experience in being a medic... meanwhile, there’s me, a psychiatrist.” Denise sighs, slumping down on the empty patient bed. 

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself,” Gloria says, “a psychiatrist is still a doctor, no matter what.”

“I’m useless when it comes to saving lives and in emergencies,” Denise looks down.

“A psychiatrist heals wounds people can’t see.” Gloria tells her, making Denise look up at her.

“Did you get that out of a book or something?” she asks.

“I think I heard it somewhere,” Gloria says, making the other woman chuckle, “it’s okay for you not to have experience in these things. When this all started, I barely had experience.”

“Really?” Denise furrows her brows, “but I heard from Deanna that you helped stop someone’s bleeding.”

“That was after the world ended. Before that, I would just watch the doctors do all the work since I was only an intern. The most I did was give shots and stitches,” Gloria explains.

“At least you still have experience with stitches... You know I planned to become a surgeon?” Denise says, a sad smile on her face, “it’s what I wanted to be but then... my anxiety acted up and then the panic attacks... and that’s when I got really interested in psychiatry.”

“I know what you mean, we probably have the most stressful and pressuring job there is now,” Gloria sighs, “but hey, we’ll work through it all together.” 

“I’ll just stand in your way...” Denise looks down again.

“Denise,” Gloria calls out, making the other woman look up at her, “I’ll be right with you, I just need you to try, okay?”

Denise ponders her words for a moment before nodding with a smile on her face. Gloria understood what Denise was going through with the pressures and stressfulness of being in the medical field. She’d felt it while she was an intern and even more so after the world ended. Gloria felt that Denise was a good person who wanted to do her best. She knew that with the proper encouragement and guidance, Denise would become a fine medic. 

---

Back at the house, Daryl was pacing around the living room, driving himself absolutely crazy. The others had been out for a few hours already to explore the community, leaving him at the house alone with his thoughts. He didn’t care that the people in Alexandria were watching him, eyeing him like a hawk and judging him. He knew they would no matter what, and that wasn’t what bothered him. What plagued his mind was him seeing another man hug his girl. 

Since Daryl remained on the porch when Glenn, Gloria, and Maggie left to explore the place, he was able to hear when an unfamiliar male voice called out to the siblings. He turned to catch the man picking up Gloria in a hug, regardless of her being visibly uncomfortable towards him, and seeing that made his blood boil. It took everything in him to not run over and punch the man in the face. Daryl trusted her, of course he trusted her, he just hated seeing someone who was not him embrace her the way he did. 

“Hey Daryl,” Glenn says, interrupting his pacing as he walks into the house with Maggie behind him, “everything okay?”

Daryl looks at him, mid-step and nods at him in acknowledgement. He felt stupid for feeling the way he did, but he really needed to know who the hell that guy was. 

“Yo Glenn...” he calls out just as he’s about to sit on the sofa. 

“Yeah?” he responds, looking at Daryl.

“Come here for a sec?” Daryl says, beckoning him over to the kitchen counter where he stood.

Glenn furrows his brow as he walks over to him, “what’s up?”

Daryl hesitates for a moment, biting his thumb nail nervously, “that guy... who is he...?”

“What guy...?” Glenn tilts his head in confusion.

“Don’ be playin’ dumb, tha’ prick tha’ hugged ya an’ Gloria,” Daryl says, frustration in his voice as his patience was running out.

“Oh, Jacob?” Glenn clarifies.

“Whatever his name is, who is he?” Daryl persists.

Glenn finally realizes what’s going on with Daryl and has to keep himself from chuckling, “he’s a guy on Aiden’s run team, used to be a cop before all this, but he’s not someone you need to worry about.”

“Ya know him from before?” Daryl asks.

“Yeah, we went to the same highschool, and his sister is Gena's best friend,” Glenn tells him truthfully.

“So, he’s yer friend too...” Daryl says, not liking this.

“I wouldn’t exactly call him a friend...” Glenn says, earning an eyebrow raise from Daryl, “I knew him before highschool because of Gena and he was in a few of my classes but we barely even talked. He was one of those jocks who always thought they’re better than everyone else.”

“Ya were friends with that kind o’ person?” Daryl asks, furrowing his brow in confusion, he thought that Glenn was saying he wasn't his friend just so he felt better about not liking the guy. 

“I told you, we aren’t exactly friends,” Glenn says then sighs when Daryl stares at him, “okay, long story short... he bullied me in highschool.” 

Daryl narrows his eyes at him, he knew Glenn wasn't the type to fight back, especially not in his teen years. He wanted to tell him that he should have told his older sister, but knowing how Glenn is, he wouldn't want to potentially ruin his sister's friendship with Jacob's sister. Now, Gloria on the other hand, Daryl was sure that she'd do something about it. 

“Gloria wouldn’ let that slide...” he says. 

“She wouldn’t... and she didn’t. When she found out, the next day she found him and punched him in the face,” Glenn chuckles at the memory then sighs, “but then that’s when he apparently fell in love with her...”

“What?” Daryl frowns at that, “what kind o’ masochist prick is he..?”

Glenn shrugs, “I don’t know, man. I just remember that he couldn’t stop bothering her after that... asshole even used me to get her to go on a few dates with him.”

“What?!” Daryl exclaims, he couldn’t stop the jealousy from exploding inside him as he registered Glenn’s words.

“He threatened to keep bullying me if she didn’t...” Glenn sighs as he looks down, “I practically begged her not to go and that I could take whatever he threw at me but you know her...” 

Daryl sighs heavily and nods, knowing how protective Gloria is over Glenn, she would have done anything to prevent Glenn from getting bullied, even going on dates with a prick. The thought of it made Daryl uneasy and curiosity plagued his mind again as he wondered what they did on those dates, or rather what that guy tried to do on those dates. Glenn seems to catch onto his uneasiness as he snaps Daryl out of his thoughts when he puts a hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to worry about him, though. Gloria still kinda hates him,” Glenn says with a chuckle.

“Ya tellin’ me not to worry about her ex who might still be in love with her?” Daryl asks rhetorically.

"Gloria says he’s just a guy she went on a few dates with to save my ass, nothing more.” Glenn reassures him “yeah, he might still be in love with her or whatever, but she doesn’t care. She cares about you, Daryl. And if it makes you feel any better, I approve of you, not Jacob.”

Daryl scoffs playfully, and he nods, “thanks...”

“No problem,” Glenn smiles at him, patting his arm, “also, let me know if you’re ever planning to kick his ass, I’d love to join in.”

Daryl snorts a laugh at his words and nods again, wordlessly promising Glenn to let him know. He felt himself more at ease after talking to Glenn, although he didn’t like that they would be living in a community with someone from Gloria’s past but he had to deal with it. Later in the evening, Gloria had come back to the house and she told Daryl about Denise. He was happy for her that she made a new friend at the community, all the while he kept quiet as he listened to her talk about her day. Daryl felt that he didn’t need to bother confronting Gloria about Jacob, he was a person from her past.

---

Next Chapter

Okay so! I know that Denise doesn’t actually appear in the show until Season 6 but I love her and she deserved so much more so I just added her here haha and then we have another new character (you all probably already hate him too xD) who triggered a jealous Daryl. Reason why I thought that it was best to add more characters from Glenn and Gloria’s life before the apocalypse is because it wouldn’t really make sense to me for Gena to come to a community alone without any friends since it seemed that everyone in Alexandria originally has a family with them. Also, I just really love writing Daryl and Glenn moments ❤❤❤ Please let me know what you think about this chapter and what you guys think will happen! ^^

And as always, I would really appreciate any comments left for me! I’ll be replying to any comments in a new post because this is a sideblog!

Taglist (please let me know if you’d like to be added/removed!):

@twdeadfanfic​ | @fandomfanatic97​ | @crossbowking​ | @watchmeaspire​ | @spidergirla5​ | @kamieshep​ | @letsstarsfalling​ | @molethemollie | @alicewinchester99 | @neilox | @womanup22​ | @jodiereedus22 | @theonlyone-meeeee | @theunofficialduke | @inlovewdxx | @delightfullykrispypeach | @mrsfortune1306 | @wolfkg | @funeral-7 | @wnygirl2012 | @alispaceme | @themihala | @aavocadocloud |  @polkadottedpillowcase | @felicisimor | @depressedfrog2 | @spacexkiddo0

[spicysoftsweet]

A Very Important Episode starring Hisoka

Or the one where Hisoka learns Bungee Gum is not a food group.

A/N: We all know that Hisoka likes candy and Bungee Gum but we would like to encourage Hisoka to make healthier choices and prevent diabetes complications. There will possibly be a part 2. I hope this is educational.

---

This time Hisoka had actually done it. He’d actually managed to fuck up his entire body beyond what he could repair with Bungee Gum or Machi’s services - which she was charging higher and higher for - and now he was somewhere almost unthinkable - an emergency room.

“Illumi~~~~” he half-sang, half-whined now that he was finally lucid, after undergoing an exploratory laparotomy to stabilize his profuse internal bleeding - the surgeons had been in awe of just how much of his body had been purely synthetic due to Texture Surprise exclaiming that he’d be an incredible case to write up - and being amped up full of pain meds. He probably didn’t need the pain meds, but it was fun to go in and out of consciousness; he couldn’t remember the last time he had an actual night of sleep.

His unwilling friend sat at the side of his hospital bed, legs crossed and focusing his jarringly large, black eyes at the fluid and blood that was being transfused into him by IV drip. A small part of him was surprised that Hisoka could be transfused with regular looking blood and regular looking fluid. He was almost sure that he was made up purely of nonsense and Bungee Gum.

“Illumi~” Hisoka moaned dramatically a second time. His gaze slid now to him, with lips pressed into a flat line of distaste.

“Don’t ever use my name as your emergency contact again.”

Illumi had to hide the fact that he was impressed Hisoka could spell clearly enough to make out the letters of his name and had actually retained his phone number. He had been surprised to get a call, but made his way over as soon as he had finished gutting an enemy and stringing them up for display as requested in his latest contract. The idea of Hisoka being dead was incredibly alarming, for he did enjoy his health and company, but also sparked a morbid curiosity in him. Could Hisoka actually die?

“But you came, didn’t you?” Hisoka teased, with a shit-eating grin.

He had him there.

There was a soft knocking on the door, and a young woman in a white coat, followed by a taller man wearing a pair of scrubs came in. The young woman glanced at Hisoka and then Illumi, visibly wincing at the hard stare of the latter in the semi-dark room, then raised her badge to introduce herself. 

“H-hello, I’m Dr. Rhgyl, I-” her eyes flickered to Illumi briefly, unsettled by the fact that he hadn’t yet blinked in the past two minutes, then shifted back to Hisoka, whose devilish smile was almost more unsettling. “I was one of your surgeons and am here to answer any questions you have.”

She turned to Illumi, and gave a nervous nod of the head. “And who is in the room with you, Mr. Morow?”

“My husband,” he said, in a sickly-sweet voice. Illumi gave him a glare, then crossed his arms.

“Sure,” was all he said.

Sure, what? What is sure? Just answer the damn question... The poor young doctor’s face fell as she already knew this was something she’d have to spend unnecessary minutes during her already excessively long call night clarifying in her documentation. She turned to her nurse behind her, who gave her a small shrug. 

“So uh, Mr. Morow, how is your pain?”

“It’s wonderful!”

The doctor again tried to conceal her internal screaming, and continued to keep her professional smile plastered on her face. “In that case, please let us know if you have any more pain, and your nurse will take care of it.”

“We do have one other issue, however, “ she added, making sure to communicate this next part as clearly and effectively as possible. Hisoka perked up in surprise, and Illumi continued to sit perfectly still, as still as a statue. “Your blood sugar. Your blood sugar was extremely elevated, and we were concerned about a diagnosis of prediabetes or diabetes.”

“Diabetes?”

“We expect you to make a fast recovery… surprisingly fast in fact, but we would still like you to follow up with a primary care doctor about your blood sugar. We’ll draw a lab test to check how your sugars were for the past 3 months, called a Hemoglobin A1c test, and then we’ll have your primary care doctor follow up the results and help you with strategies to have better control.”

Illumi turned to Hisoka, who he could tell that whatever the medical team was telling him was going in one ear and out the other, and he was now only thinking about either his next fight or Bungee Gum based on the elated smile on his face.

Bungee Gum.

Bungee Gum was the fucking problem. 

As the doctor and the nurse finally exited out of the room and Hisoka went back to telling Illumi battle stories, Illumi started to clear his schedule in his head, to figure out when he could best drag Hisoka to his follow-up appointments, which he would have to make for him. Someone had to be the adult in this relationship. 

---

Hisoka’s new primary care doctor, another similarly young woman, but less easily intimidated as the tired one from the hospital sat at a computer, pulling up his chart to review his lab results from his hospitalization.

Illumi and Hisoka noticed how she visibly paled as she scrolled, then turned to Hisoka and gave him a reassuring smile, that looked to reassure her more than them. 

“What is it? Am I dead?” Hisoka asked. Illumi gave him a look to quiet down.

“Well, you’re diabetic, all right... Your A1c is 14%.”

“Is that bad?”

She swiveled in her chair to face him, hands in her lap. 

“Well, diabetes is diagnosed at an A1c of 7%. So... unfortunately,  yes.”

Hisoka started counting on his fingers and Illumi forcefully put his hand down.

“Hisoka, listen to the doctor. Diabetes is serious. My great-grandaunt was diabetic.” Illumi said in an even, impassive voice.

“Oh, how old was she when she was diagnosed?” The doctor asked, attempting to build rapport with the patient and the patient’s loved ones.

Without skipping a beat, he replied, “206, exactly. She loved nothing more than to unwind with Mountain Dew after her assassination missions. She ended up on dialysis.” 

The doctor seemed to be at a loss of words briefly, so she turned back to Hisoka, pulling out a pen and a notepad to focus on rather than lose her cool. 

“So, uh… let’s start by talking a little about what you usually eat,” she began. “What do you eat in a typical day?”

“Hm... “ Hisoka didn’t usually keep track of what he ate, so it took him some time to come up with an account. “Ah! Okay, so in the morning, I usually skip breakfast, but sometimes I’ll have some Bungee Gum.”

Odd choice, the physician thought, but she nodded and wrote that down, allowing the floor to Hisoka to speak.

“For lunch, I try not to eat too much, but I also have a couple pieces or ten of Bungee Gum.”

Hm…

“Oh and for dinner, I have a bowl of gummy candy if I’m feeling particularly peckish and also Bungee Gum.”

She looked up from her pad and paper to see Hisoka looking blissfully unaware that he had just revealed that he subsists solely on sweets. She suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to pull at her hair repeatedly. This would be a ton of education, and she still wasn’t exactly sure what exactly Bungee Gum was.

---

Illumi parked his custom Ferrari minivan, purchased entirely for this shopping trip, outside the Costco Wholesale, and gave Hisoka, a long, hard look. 

“Do you have the list?” Illumi asked, hand outstretched as Hisoka handed over a partially crumpled sheet of paper, outlining the basics of a balanced, carbohydrate-controlled diet for people with diabetes.

Hisoka looked outside to the large building, then looked back at Illumi. “Isn’t this for families? I thought we were shopping for me only, and sometimes you when you come over.”

“I don’t know, the butlers told me that they come here to stock the kitchens. It seems from the website that this store provides high quality bulk goods for very competitive prices so this will be an appropriate next stop.”

This was just one out of countless stops today - Hisoka had spent the earlier part of the day searching frantically for sugar-free Bungee Gum in every supermarket in a 25-mile radius unsuccessfully, and demanding to see the manager every time, only to kill them when they told him they didn’t have his particular brand. Illumi warned him that there would be no such shenanigans any longer.

They stepped out of the car and walked right past the door greeter who was waiting eagerly for them to present their membership card only to recoil once they both turned to look at him in unison with intent to kill. 

The first things Hisoka noticed as he walked in were the multiple little free sample kiosks at the aisles every so often and curiously wandered over to them. 

“Make sure to avoid anything glazed or with a sauce,” Illumi called after him, poring through the list as he wandered over to the produce aisle. He didn’t understand the draw of free samples; if he wanted to try something, he would simply buy it.

Hisoka made his way to Illumi and Illumi’s overfilled grocery cart about a half-hour later after wandering the entire store, arms filled with small paper cups and tasting spoons. It was clear that he had sampled literally everything, possibly twice or thrice. Illumi let out a sigh and moved to the front of the store to check out. 

Keeping Hisoka’s blood sugar low would be a daunting task, but he was determined that by the next visit to his PCP, he’d have some improvement in his A1c. Texture Surprise can only replace so many amputated limbs at once. He’d just have to buy every supermarket’s supply of Bungee Gum and possibly halt every single production chain devoted to it or something similar. A pain, but it was worth it. Hisoka was annoying as all hell, but still, he was worth it.

[fakeyellow]

A betting pool starts amongst the Edenbrook staff on who Dr. Lila Valentine is dating.

It was yet another day in the locker room as the interns stripped off their clothes and put on their scrubs. There was the usual mindless sound of chatter as they asked each other how their weekends had went when Mitch paused, his muscled chest on full display as he stared imperiously at his fellow interns.

“So what’s the deal with Dr. Valentine? Is she seeing anyone?” he asked.

“I’m out,” Esme slipped on her top and walked out of the room.

Mitch didn’t spare her another glance as he leaned against the lockers, his arms crossed, “I bet she’s with Dr. Ramsay.”

Sothy looked uneasy, his usual grin gone from his face, “Dude, that’s not cool. Dr. Valentine’s a good doctor.”

“I don’t mean she slept her way into the diagnostic team,” Mitch said, rolling his eyes, “She was the best competitor and she won the position. I’m just saying, I think they also have a thing.”

“I don’t know,” Gary interjected, his face turning thoughtful, “Dr. Varma seems to really like her too. She keeps complaining about how good Dr. Valentine is.”

“Nah, you guys are both wrong,” Sothy said at ease now, his grin reappearing, “She’s definitely with Bryce. Have you seen that dude?”

While Mitch had indeed seen Bryce in the changing room, he was not as impressed with him as Sothy seemed to be, “Fifty bucks she’s with Ramsay.”

The other two looked at each other curiously before shrugging.

“You’re on.”

—

Gary Garrison was having a good day.

Sure, Dr. Varma had shut him down immediately when he’d asked about her relationship with Dr. Valentine, but he was confident that his intuition was correct.

As snarky as she usually was with Dr. Valentine, he hadn’t heard her talking about anyone else quite so often. Not to mention when he’d first been introduced to her, Dr. Varma had had called her one of the best damn doctors in the hospital.

Gary had no doubt that there was some sort of passion beneath their friendly rivalry. He was going to win a cool $100 from the others.

“So, do you know if Dr. Varma and Dr. Valentine are in a relationship?” Gary asked pleasantly.

The nurse he’d been talking to frowned at him, startled by the sudden change in subject, “I don’t know. Why do you want to know?”

Gary suddenly realised that the bet he’d made with Mitch and Sothy was probably something he should keep to himself.

“Oh, no reason!” He said loudly, feeling himself starting to sweat, “I just wanted to know if she was… free?”

The nurse looked wholly unconvinced and she continued to stare at him, waiting for an answer.

“I-well-“ Gary stammered before hanging his head in defeat, “I may have made a bet that Dr. Valentine is with Dr. Varma.”

He looked to the ground, sheepishly scratching his head as he waited to be reprimanded.

But when he looked up to meet the nurse’s eyes, she seemed positively thrilled.

“A bet?” She asked, her eyes burning with excitement, “Count me in.”

—

There were few people at Edenbrook who did not know Dr. Lila Valentine after her tumultuous first year.

Even if they didn’t know her personally, they knew of her: the doctor who had taken the hospital by storm, the doctor who had nearly lost her license by stealing from a pharmaceutical company to help a much loved patient, the doctor who had saved the life of the new Chief of Medicine when even he hadn’t been able to figure out what was wrong with him, the doctor who had become the youngest fellow on the diagnostic team.

There were numerous stories told about her and while they were filled with varying levels of truth, there was still one underlying consensus:

Dr. Lila Valentine was a damn good doctor and a damn good person.

It was hard not to like a person like Dr. Valentine, ever diligent and willing to help out others. Despite efforts to sabotage her reputation, there was hardly anyone who actually had something bad to say about her- most people only had good anecdotes to share, when she’d helped them out one way or another.

As it turned out, there were quite a lot of people interested in Dr. Valentine’s love life and Mitch soon found that he needed to keep a notebook in order to track the overwhelming number of bets being made.

—

“Dr. Zaid once caught her and Dr. Lahela making out in the supply closet,” An IM resident told Mitch conspiratorially as she handed him a twenty, “He was in a bad mood the rest of the day. Well, worse than usual.”

~

A NICU nurse went out of his way to find Mitch, “$50 on Ramsay. They stayed overnight once, watching over a premature baby. There’s something between them for sure!”

~

“I walked into the on call room once and I had to walk out immediately. I don’t think Drs. Valentine and Varma noticed but… I definitely noticed them,” A surgical resident whispered, blushing furiously even as she pushed a fifty dollar bill to Mitch.

~

The nurse sighed heavily, “I was personally rooting for Rafael.”

Seeing Mitch’s blank face, she quickly clarified, “He’s a paramedic. But then he showed up at the hospital one day with his girlfriend.”

“It’s a shame. I saw them sleeping together in his hospital bed once and it was just the cutest thing I’d ever seen…” she clucked her tongue in disappointment before turning serious, “I want $40 on Dr. Lahela.”

—

Mitch had just handed a ticket to Dr. Taylor when he found himself facing a certain surgical resident.

“Dr. Lahela,” he greeted professionally, giving away no signs of apprehension.

Bryce glanced down to the notebook in Mitch’s hand with a smirk, and Mitch felt his grip on it tighten.

“I want $50 on Bryce,” Bryce finally said, handing him a crisp bill.

“Nice,” Mitch couldn’t help but nod in respect as he handed him his ticket.

“Always bet Bryce, baby!” Dr. Lahela declared as he walked off jauntily with his new betting receipt.

“Alright, Dr. Lahela has moved down to even money,” Mitch announced to a muttering crowd.

—

One day, during his break, Mitch was surrounded by a verifiable militia of hospital personnel, from security guards to lab techs to physicians. The chatter suddenly died down and Mitch had only the time to wonder why when the sea of people parted and the Chief of Medicine appeared in front of him.

“Dr. Banerji,” Mitch greeted with one of his most winning smiles, even as he began to panic internally. Was he going to lose his career all because of a single bet?

No. The panic quickly dissipated, and Mitch felt a calm take over him. He’d been in worse situations than this and he’d found that there was little the charm of a good looking and self assured man could not mitigate. There was only one way he’d get out of this.

“Would you like to place a bet sir?” Mitch asked confidently with one of his most winning smiles.

Dr. Banerji remained silent but Mitch did not let his composure break, staring intently at the man who held his career in his hands.

And then Dr. Banerji laughed and Mitch could not help but breathe in relief.

“No, no. I don’t think I’d be setting a good example if I were to bet on the personal lives of my employees,” he said and while he was chuckling, there was still an underlying current of warning that kept Mitch on edge.

“Of course,” Mitch said.

“But I do have to admit. I was a bit curious as to who was in the lead.”

“Sir?”

Dr Banerji looked at him expectantly and Mitch quickly responded.

“Well Dr. Lahela is the current favourite, although Dr. Ramsay is a close second.”

“Hmm,” Dr. Banerji murmured, a mysterious smile on his face, and Mitch suddenly remembered that Dr. Banerji was the personal mentor of Dr. Ramsay. Not to mention, Dr. Valentine had saved his life.

There was no way he didn’t know who she was actually dating.

“Good day,” Dr. Banerji took his leave, chortling, and Mitch felt a sharp pang of regret that he had missed out a chance to ask for inside information.

—

A month had passed since the start of the betting pool, and while it had expanded to include a good quarter of the entire hospital, they were still no closer to reaching an official verdict.

If Dr. Valentine had felt scrutinised after the announcement of her disciplinary hearing, there were twice the number of eyes on her now.

But she didn’t seem to notice, passing each day oblivious to the attention on her.

Lila walked out of a patient’s room now, her brow furrowed in concentration as she made a few marks on the patient chart.

It was at this moment that Jackie made her way down the hallway. Upon seeing her, Lila bumped her hips playfully against Jackie’s, and the eyes of all of the staff in the vicinity seemed to focus in on that single action.

There was a playful exchange of “Doctor” between the two but Lila continued to keep walking to the disappointment of many.

Bryce appeared now, turning around the corner as he wheeled one of his patients out. Seeing Lila, he winked at her, and while this was standard behaviour for the flirty resident, Lila suddenly stopped him, placing a light hand on his shoulder.

Unknowingly, people began to lean forwards as Lila and Bryce engaged in a quiet conversation. When they stopped talking, there was a sudden buzz of activity as everyone pretended to be busily absorbed in their work.

The ding of the elevator announcing its arrival caused a current of excitement in the air as people waited with bated breath to see the newcomer, hoping desperately that it might be a certain diagnostician who would put an end to this bet.

Dr. Harper Emery, Chief of Neurosurgery, entered the ICU and there was a collective sigh of disappointment as Lila greeted the woman, handing her a patient file on the diagnostic team’s newest case that was in dire need of a neurosurgeon’s expertise.

The mood seemed to dampen until a sharp look from the surgeon caused everyone to begin working with renewed focus.

—

“You want to come over?” Sienna asked Danny brightly, “My roommates won’t mind. I mean, Lila barely comes home these days anyway.”

At the mention of Lila’s name, Mitch suddenly sidled up to her at the nurse’s station.

“Dr. Valentine hasn’t been home lately?” Mitch repeated and he slowly looked over Sienna, as if reassessing her worth to him.

Looking thoroughly unimpressed by his blunt intrusion into their conversation, Sienna responded, “If you have any questions, you should ask Dr. Valentine herself. Bye Danny.”

Sienna left but Mitch was beyond caring as he also left to round up his fellow interns.

“Dr. Trinh mentioned that Dr. Valentine hasn’t been home lately. That means she can’t be seeing Dr. Varma, she has to be seeing Ramsay!” Mitch declared triumphantly.  While the bet had started out harmlessly, it had gotten so big, and now, it was a matter of principle to him. He needed to know for his own pride that he was right, that Dr. Valentine was dating Dr. Ramsay.

“Well, Bryce doesn’t live with them either so he’s still an option too,“ Sothy pointed out.

Mitch grimaced at the truth of his statement.

—

After yet another tiring day of work, Mitch made his way to the locker room when he suddenly did a double take and took a few steps back.

There, in the diagnostic team’s room, visible through the glass walls, were Dr. Ramsay and Dr. Valentine alone.

The walls were unfortunately soundproof and Dr. Valentine’s face was obscured from his perspective, but Mitch could still see how close the two were to each other.

A tender smile appeared on Dr. Ramsay’s face, the likes of which Mitch had never seen before on the usually strict and tough physician. Dr. Ramsay then placed a hand on Dr. Valentine’s shoulder and Mitch surreptitiously sneaked over to a different vantage point.

And there it was.

Dr. Valentine’s face was flushed pink, her eyes filled with an adoring light as she listened to what Dr. Ramsay was telling her.

There needed to be more evidence before the bet could be finalized but this was as good a confirmation as Mitch needed and he whistled cheerily all the way home.

—

Lila practically purred in contentment, curled into her lover’s embrace on the couch and relishing the feeling of their hands stroking her side.

Reflecting on her day, Lila still felt herself flush with pride at the memory of Ethan’s words to her. Even after the better part of a year, it was hard not to feel out of place in the diagnostic team meetings, not to let herself become overwhelmed by the sheer knowledge and skill of her more experienced colleagues.

But today, Lila had been the one to guide the team to the correct diagnosis after days of struggle and countless consults; she’d been the one to see past the distracting myriad of abnormal test results. She had been the one to see the patient and notice the hepatomegaly that indicated liver failure even as the lab results said otherwise. She had been the one to figure out that the patient had Wilson’s Disease and place her on the list for a desperately needed liver transplant.

Ethan had pulled her back after the meeting to express his admiration for how far she’d come (“Good work, Doctor.”) and she felt like she was still on a high from that. Lila had never imagined she’d hear those words from a doctor she’d idolised since her days in medical school.

But then there were a lot of things Lila had never imagined would happen.

Their relationship had faced a lot of obstacles, including the woman herself because of her reservations, but it had all been worth it the day Harper Emery had told Lila that she loved her too.

There wasn’t an exact moment that Lila could pinpoint the start of her feelings for Harper; it had been a gradual realisation. Outside of the hearing, she hadn’t had much chance for interaction with the Chief of Medicine, but she’d stumbled upon the woman one day, alone in an empty surgical suite, running her hands wistfully over the surfaces.

One conversation had led to another and Lila had seen more and more of the woman behind the mantle with each meeting.

And then one day, she’d looked at Harper and realised that she loved her, had loved her for a while.

It had taken a long time for Harper to admit her own feelings but now they were together and Lila would not trade the world for it.

Of course, they both knew it was too early to report their relationship to HR. It was too soon after her disciplinary hearing and Lila had no intention of staining Harper’s professionalism, nor did Harper want to cast a shadow over Lila’s burgeoning career. It’d still be a year or so before things settled down and they could safely report their relationship without fear of excessive backlash.

But for now, Lila contented herself by snuggling into the warmth of Harper’s arms.

“You’re getting bold,” Harper said with a smirk in her voice as she pulled out the post it note that had been attached to the file she’d received from Lila.

“They all think I’m dating Bryce or Ethan or Jackie anyway,” Lila dismissed carelessly, “I don’t know how any of them believe I don’t know about the bet. They’re so obvious.”

“And wrong,” Harper murmured before leaning down and drawing Lila into a kiss that stole her breath away.

Lila hummed happily as they continued to kiss, feeling as if her heart might burst from all the happiness and joy she was feeling in this moment.

“Bed?” Harper asked sultrily, gently tugging Lila’s lower lip with her teeth as she withdrew from their kiss.

“Please,” Lila breathed out and all thoughts escaped her mind as she lost herself in the embrace of the woman she loved.

—

A/N: lol did anyone guess the pairing?

several points of explanation:

We don’t know much about the new interns so I just based their personalities off of what we’ve seen so far. It made sense to me that Mitch would be experienced with large betting pools as like a frat guy or whatever, and that Gary wouldn’t be able to lie about the bet.

I wrote Lila to be a very affectionate person. She enjoys having fun and she’s had a couple of light trysts with some of her friends her first year; they’re all young and good looking and under inordinate amounts of stress that only each other understand, what’s to stop them? I don’t know if Ethan would have been up for a one night stand so you can think whatever you like, it’s open. But ultimately, she falls for Harper and they’re in a committed relationship.

Dr. Banerji knows about the relationship and thinks they’re good for each other although he regrets that they have to hide it for now. Sienna knows and I couldn’t decide if Bryce/Jackie/Elijah also know or if they only know that she’s in a relationship.

The Wilson’s disease case I summarised briefly is a true story that Dr. Lisa Sanders wrote about in her book, “Every Patient Tells a Story.” Fun fact: she actually inspired the show, House MD

Bryce has moved down to even money - this means that if he turned out to be dating Dr. Valentine, everyone who bet on him would get their money back. 1:1 odds, as opposed to getting like double their money.

to reiterate: Lila’s flushed bc she’s proud to be praised by her idol turned friend. Mitch is just misunderstanding everything.

[whumphoarder]

Beanimia

Summary: While Peter is visiting Tony and Morgan at the lake house for a long weekend, the six-year-old manages to accidentally break his nose. Unfortunately, Spider-Man's super-healing decides to go on holiday the same weekend that he does.

Word count: 3,877

Genre: Fluffy illness/injury, whump, hurt/comfort, humor

A/N: Thanks to @xxx-cat-xxx and @sallyidss for beta-reading and to @awesomesockes for plot, summary, and title ideas <3

Link to read on Ao3

“So”—Tony snaps the single use ice pack to activate the chemicals and gives it a few shakes as he moves back over to the kitchen table—“which one of you is going to explain what happened here?”

Morgan shakes her head gravely side to side. “Peter didn’t catch the beans...”

“Well, to be fair,” Peter points out, his voice significantly more nasally than usual due to the wad of paper towels he’s pressing to his heavily bleeding nose, “you didn’t really warn me you were about to chuck a can of beans at my head.”

“But I did!” the six-year-old defends. “I said, ‘I’ll throw down the supplies.’”

“Supplies for what?” Tony questions. He passes Peter the ice pack, earning a grunt of thanks.

“For the mission,” Morgan explains as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “We were playing superheroes and we needed to pack the supplies to take with us ‘cus we had to go fight the bad guys in space.”

“She’d been stockpiling stuff for the last couple days in the treehouse,” Peter goes on, “so she was just tossing everything down for me to put in the bag. Which, y’know, was fine for the stuffed animals and the walkie-talkies and the plastic lightsabers”—he gingerly touches the ice to his nose—“just not for a sixteen-ounce can of refried pintos.”

(Tony winces in sympathy.)

Morgan lets out an exasperated exhale. “Well, we had to bring something to eat—it’s a long way to Pluto.”  

Huffing out a laugh, Tony shakes his head slowly. “I guess it’s hardly Peter’s first experience getting injured before a mission officially even begins...” he muses. He grins at the teenager. “Remember when you tripped off the quinjet ramp and sprained your ankle two minutes after we landed?”

Peter rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed. “That was one time, Mr. Stark.”

“Memorable though,” Tony quips. He gestures to the kid’s messy face and sighs. “Alright, let’s see the damage.”

Reluctantly, Peter pulls the paper towels away and fresh blood starts to trickle down. There’s a cut at the bridge of his nose and it’s rapidly swelling, a dark bruise already starting to form under his eye.

Tony prods carefully at the break, making Peter wince. “Well, it���s definitely broken,” he reports after a moment, “but it seems pretty well-aligned at least. Nothing to reset.”

Peter lets out a short, breathy laugh. “Probably because it was already a little crooked from the last time I broke it. Guess she knocked it back.”

“So… I made it better?” Morgan asks hopefully.

Tony turns in his daughter’s direction. “Oh no, don’t you start thinking you’re off the hook here, Little Miss Budding Plastic Surgeon,” he says, holding up a stern finger. “You still need to be more careful where you’re chucking your beans.”

Peter snorts, then instantly seems to regret that as he groans and adjusts the ice pack on his face.

Morgan’s expression sobers and she drops her gaze down to her feet. “I just thought he would catch it. He always catches stuff when I throw it to him…”

Her comment gives Tony pause. Now that he thinks about it, it’s not the first time since Peter arrived at the lake house for their long weekend that the kid has seemed rather sluggish and off his game. He’d dozed through most of the drive over on Friday afternoon and then slept in until almost noon the next day. Even now, he can see the dark circles under Peter’s eyes and the pallor to his cheeks that can’t be completely explained by his current blood loss.

“It’s okay, Mo,” Peter reassures her with a small smile. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. It’ll be all better by morning, okay?”

Morgan perks up at that, so Tony pushes aside the twinge of worry in his gut. After all, Peter’s been taking seventeen credit hours at MIT this semester, not to mention his Boston vigilante activities and the additional part-time lab assistant gig he’s picked up; that’s enough to make anyone run a little ragged.

“Why don’t you two just watch a movie or something?” Tony suggests. “Give Peter’s nose a little time to sort itself out.”

Morgan and Peter agree, so Tony rustles up some of Peter’s super-strength painkillers and sets the kids up in the living room with some weird movie that Morgan inexplicably loves about a talking parrot whose biggest goal in life is to see the sun rise over the Grand Canyon. Before they even hit the fifteen minute mark, from out of the corner of his eye, Tony sees the ice pack slide down Peter’s face as the boy drifts off.

X

The combination of pain pills and the usual post-injury recovery time knocks Peter out and he sleeps straight through the rest of the movie. He’s still a little groggy and disoriented when Tony wakes him for dinner, but years of mentoring a reckless teenage superhero have taught the man that this is all par for the course.

Given that the pork chops Pepper left for them to reheat (before heading to her sister’s house for the weekend) require a bit more chewing than Peter’s face is up for at the moment, Tony whips the kid up a smoothie to drink instead.

Peter peers warily into the glass Tony hands him, swirling the green contents around. “What’s in here?”

Tony shrugs. “Whatever I found in the fridge. Blueberries, yogurt, scoop of protein powder, a banana, some spinach…”

“Ew, why would you drink spinach?” Morgan interrupts, her nose wrinkling up in disgust. “That’s gross.”

“Says the girl who put mayonnaise on her graham crackers last week,” Tony points out.

“It was good!” she defends.

Peter takes a cautious sip of the drink. He looks contemplative for second, then must have decided that he approves of the flavor because he just shrugs and proceeds to down about half the glass in a few gulps.

Morgan makes a dramatic gagging noise. Tony rolls his eyes and flicks her arm playfully.

“It’s actually really good,” Peter admits, lowering the cup back down. “Been awhile since I’ve had real vegetables.”

“Ugh, lucky,” Morgan groans as Tony adds a few pieces of asparagus to the little girl’s plate. “They’re the worst. Except for artichokes—those are good.”

“You like artichokes?” Peter questions.

“Uh huh.” She grins. “And turnips!”

“Well, Gerald likes turnips,” Tony clarifies, “and Morgan likes feeding them to him.”

This comment inspires Morgan to launch into a long-winded explanation of all the things she’s ever seen Gerald eat—from grass, to broccoli stalks, to a weird-looking bug—and which of those were his favorites. Peter nods along to her rambling, but seems far less engaged than usual and doesn’t even react when she mentions Gerald’s favorite type of cookie is double stuffed Oreo.

(Tony, on the other hand, interrupts at that point with a stern lecture for the six-year-old on what she can and cannot feed the alpaca moving forward.)

Once dinner is over, they all migrate back to the living room. Morgan wants to play Uno, and Peter obliges for a while, but his overall lack of focus persists.

“Peeeterrrr,” Morgan whines for the third time, poking his arm to snap him out of his daze. “It’s your turn again. You gotta draw two.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Peter takes two cards from the deck and adds them to his hand before reaching up to rub tiredly at his temples.

Tony’s brow furrows. “Headache?”

“Yeah, kinda,” Peter admits. “It’s not bad, just like… there.”

“Hm.” Tony nods. Turning to Morgan he says, “What do you say we finish this game up tomorrow?” Morgan’s face screws up and she looks like she’s about to protest before he adds, “Pretty sure there are some fudge-pops left in the freezer. I won’t tell Mommy if you don’t.”

Morgan drops her cards with an excited whoop and jumps up to run to the kitchen.

Tony gets to his feet to follow her. He glances back at Peter, who has sunk into the cushions with a relieved sigh. “Fudge-pop?” he offers.

Peter makes a non-committal noise in his throat. “I dunno. Think I might just head to bed.”

Tony glances at his watch. It’s just shy of eight o’clock—even Morgan doesn’t usually go to bed for another half hour. He knows Peter’s healing always takes a lot out of him, but he’s seen the kid looking less drowsy and out of it after getting slammed into the airport tarmac in Germany and cracking three ribs than he does at the moment. “Think you might be coming down with something?” he asks.

Peter shrugs once more, prompting Tony to press his hand to the kid’s forehead. He definitely isn’t detecting a fever—if anything, Peter’s skin is a little cold.

“What’s not feeling good?” Tony clarifies. “Head? Stomach? Throat?”

Peter hesitates a second. “Just… just my head I guess.” He sighs. “I think I’m just tired. Haven’t really been sleeping that great lately,” he confesses.

Tony’s forehead creases in concern. “Kid, you know May and I talked to you about overloading yourself your first year at school.”

“No, I go to bed,” Peter clarifies, “I just don’t always, like, sleep.”

“Why?” Tony’s frown deepens. “Are you having nightmares, or…?”

“No…” Peter exhales deeply, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not that. I just can’t always, like, settle down? I don’t know—it’s really not that bad,” he quickly backtracks. “I think I just need a good night’s sleep. I’ll be better tomorrow.”

(Like an idiot, Tony believes him.)

“Alright, well, sleep well kid,” he says as Peter shuffles off to the guest room.

X

“Okay, so... this is a little weird,” Peter says as he enters the kitchen the next morning.

Tony glances up and blinks at the sight of Peter’s very swollen and now darkly bruised nose and cheekbone. He sets down the bowl of waffle batter he’s been whisking and moves over to get a closer look.

“What the hell, kid?” Tony mutters under his breath, running his fingertips carefully over the still-clearly-broken bone. “You once healed from a compound fracture overnight.” He pauses a beat. “Of your femur.”

“Eh...” Peter shrugs tiredly. “Super-healing isn’t really a science, is it?”

“Well it’s certainly not an art,” Tony retorts. He gestures to the kid’s nose. “Unless this is your Black-and-Blue Period, Picasso.”

Peter groans, sinking down onto one of the kitchen chairs. “That was almost as painful as my face,” he complains.

It’s clear the kid meant it as a joke, but that admission does nothing to alleviate Tony’s concern. He finds Peter a fresh ice pack and doses him out another painkiller before resuming making breakfast.

Somehow even a second night of sleep doesn’t seem to have restored much of the kid’s energy. Peter sits hunched forward with one elbow on the table to hold the ice to his face and has his phone resting in his lap. He scrolls idly through it, looking like he might nod off any second.

After a few minutes, the backdoor to the kitchen swings open and Morgan re-enters with pieces of hay still stuck to her boots.

“I gave Gerald two turnips,” she announces. “And he hummed at me and then he tried to steal my hat but I got it back ‘cept for the fuzzy thing.” She points at the red knit hat on her head, which is missing a pom-pom.

Tony groans as he ladles more waffle batter onto the iron. “He didn’t swallow it, did he? Because if that vet has to come out here one more time, I swear—”

“Peter!” Morgan blurts, suddenly noticing the boy at the table. He startles and looks up from his lap as the six-year-old runs over to him. “Your face looks so bad!”

Tony clears his throat. “Uh, Morgan, we don’t—”

“So, so, so, so bad,” she emphasizes, as tears well up in her eyes. She throws her arms around his waist. “I’m really r-really sorry!” she cries. “I didn’t m-mean to hit you with the beans!”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Mo,” Peter assures, wrapping her in his arms. “It’s gonna heal really soon, okay? I’m a spider, remember? I always heal fast.”

“But sp-spiders don...don’t heal fast!” Morgan sobs into his chest. “You can squish ‘em re-really easy and they d-die if it gets too c-cold or if they get sprayed with bug killing stuff, an-and…”

Peter glances up and shoots his mentor a look of utter helplessness.

In return, Tony shrugs his shoulders in an exaggerated fashion. “Don’t look at me, kid. I’ve been wondering the same thing since we met.”

Still holding the crying child, Peter rolls his eyes at him.

“Kidding, kidding...” Tony says under his breath. He abandons the waffle iron and heads over to gather the sobbing six-year-old up into his arms. “Morgan, sweetheart, listen to me,” he says as he rubs her back gently. “Peter isn’t really a spider, okay? He’s actually more of a mutant.”

(Morgan only cries harder at that.)

Peter huffs out a short laugh and leans back against the chair. “Doing great, Mr. Stark.”

“...And because he’s a mutant,” Tony plows right along, “his DNA is different from ours and that’s why he usually heals freaky fast,” he explains over her tears as she buries her face in his shoulder. “Except it’s just being a little slow today, so we’re gonna just let him rest and eat some good food and that should help fix him up, okay?”

She hiccups a few times. “So he ju...just needs some w-waffles?” she manages to get out.

That jogs Tony’s memory. He spins around to see that the iron is still very much on and the waffle is starting to burn, smoke wafting up around the edges. “Ah shit,” he mutters.

“It’s okay, I got it,” Peter says, pushing himself quickly up from his seat. But the moment he gets to his feet, he staggers sideways and grips the table, his face draining of color.

“Pete?” Tony goes to set the still-sniffling six-year-old back down, but before he’s able to get her feet on the floor, Peter’s knees give out.

Tony curses and shoots a hand out just a second too late as Peter crumples first to his knees and then to the ground, landing directly on his already-injured face.

Morgan’s eyes go wide. “Daddy!” she shrieks.

Tony plops her down abruptly. “Go unplug the waffle maker, okay?” he instructs her as he drops to his knees next to Peter. He figures the last thing they need to add to the chaos is a smoke alarm.

Eyes still locked on the scene before her, Morgan nods and runs over to the counter to unplug the device. Meanwhile, Tony rolls Peter over onto his back and instantly grimaces at the sight. Besides the deathly pallor, the kid’s broken nose is definitely crooked now and fresh blood is streaming down.

“Is he… dead?” Morgan asks, horrified.

“No, no, of course not...” Tony presses two fingers to the pulse point in the boy’s neck, relieved to feel a strong, albeit fast, beat. “He just fainted—he’ll be fine,” he says, shaking the unconscious boy’s shoulder. 

“He looks dead,” Morgan whispers, still staring.

“Yeah, but he’s not,” Tony says firmly. Not wanting the blood to run down Peter’s throat, he continues to roll the kid over until he’s on his side in a sort of modified recovery position. “Pete, c’mon, this isn’t a good look,” he mutters, tapping Peter’s cheek. “We’re all getting enough trauma therapy as it is…”

Finally, the kid’s eyelids start fluttering open. “There you go, that’s it,” Tony praises when Peter blinks up at him. “You back with us yet?”

Peter groans and lets his eyes close again. “Do I ‘ave to be?”

“Yes,” Tony says curtly. He starts shaking Peter’s shoulder again, though gentler now. “I need to know how I’m taking you to Bruce—car or ambulance?”

“Ugh… How ‘bout neither?” Peter mumbles. He lifts a hand up tiredly to wipe a bit of blood off his upper lip. “‘M alright. Just got a lil’ dizzy…”

“Nope.” Worry is quickly taking over Tony, though it comes out in the form of briskness. “You’ve got sixty seconds to get off the floor or I’m choosing for you,” he declares, already pulling out his phone.

Morgan’s voice comes out small and quavering. “Peter...?”

Ultimately, that sound is what it takes to make Peter move. With Tony’s support, he pushes himself up and sits there for a moment, blinking wearily as blood trickles down from his nose. Tony sends Morgan to fetch a box of tissues and a clean shirt for Peter, then loads them both into the car for a little field trip.

X

“Anemia?” Peter repeats, incredulous.

The kid is sitting on an exam table at the SHIELD Medical base, his recently-reset nose now splinted. Meanwhile, Morgan sits in the chair beside Tony, entertaining herself with a handful of wooden tongue depressors and a roll of medical tape.

Bruce adjusts his glasses as he scans the results from Peter’s blood panel on his tablet. “Yeah, that’s what the tests are showing. Basically, it means that your body isn’t getting enough iron to produce hemoglobin, so it can’t carry oxygen effectively. This results in fatigue, lightheadedness, insomnia, headaches, shortness of breath, and—apparently in your case—a reduced healing factor.”

“But how did I get anemia?” Peter balks. “I’m Spider-Man.”

“Well, there are a few possible causes,” Bruce explains, “but based on several nutrient deficiencies I’m seeing in your bloodwork, my best guess is from your diet.”

“Ah.” A look of understanding flickers across Peter’s face for a second. “Yeah, okay, that checks out...” he mumbles.

“Wait, how exactly does that ‘check out’?” Tony asks.

Peter shrugs. “Well, I just… haven’t been eating the best food lately.”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean? Doesn’t MIT’s cafeteria serve a pretty decent spread?”

“Uh, yeah, I think so,” Peter allows. He rubs a hand at the back of his neck awkwardly. “I just haven’t been really… uh, going there?”

Tony blinks at him. “Why the hell not?”

“That’s Mommy’s word,” Morgan pipes up without looking up from the two wooden sticks she’s connecting together with tape.

“I just don’t have a lot of time between my classes and job and stuff, and the cafeteria is all the way across campus,” Peter explains. “So I mostly just eat my own food.”

“Which would be…?” Bruce asks.

Peter hesitates. “Ramen,” he says after a moment. “The chicken flavor one.”

“Hm, okay…” Bruce nods, jotting this down on his tablet. “Not really the most nutritious option, but definitely a college staple. What else?”

Dropping his gaze to his lap, Peter starts picking at a piece of fuzz on his sweatshirt. “Uh… sometimes I get the beef one?”

Tony blinks at him. “Beef ramen?”

“I tried the lime chili shrimp one once. Not a fan.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Tony blinks again. “Peter, I’m paying for you to have three square meals a day at that college—not three styrofoam cups of dehydrated noodles.”

“I also eat granola bars,” Peter says. “And bagels.” He starts ticking foods off on his fingers. “Microwave burritos, yogurt, uh.... those little frozen chicken taquito thingies? But like, only if my roommate isn’t using the freezer for his weird cult ritual stuff. That’s why I usually stick to the soup.”

Tony pinches the bridge of his nose and heaves out a sigh. “Jesus take the wheel…”

“Oh! I had an apple last week!” Peter throws in.

Bruce runs a hand through his own hair, exhaling a carefully measured breath. “Okay, Peter, you know that you have an enhanced metabolism, right? That means you need to eat significantly more food than the average person.”

“Right, and I do!” Peter nods. “I always make sure I get enough calories.”

“And that’s good,” Bruce says, “but you also need to make sure you’re getting enough nutrients. Calories are just a part of that. With your unusual physiology, it’s especially important that you’re getting all the required vitamins and minerals to support the rapid regeneration of your cells, and a diet of cup noodles and bagels—”

“And frozen burritos,” Peter interrupts.

“—is simply not nutritionally dense enough for you,” Bruce finishes. “Not by a long shot.”

There’s a beat.

“Oh.”

“What does ‘nu-tri-tion-al-ly dense’ mean?” Morgan asks. Her tongue depressor creation has folded over itself and vaguely resembles a collapsed bridge now.

“It means Peter needs to eat more vegetables,” Tony butts in. “Just like you and Gerald.”

She sticks out her tongue. “Gross.”

“Alright, we’re gonna start you on some iron supplements,” Bruce addresses Peter. “But it might take a couple weeks to get your levels back up enough to reverse the anemia. I’m also going to give you a list of foods high in iron—things like dark leafy greens, broccoli, dried fruit, nuts, red meat, kidney beans—”

“NO BEANS,” the other three all declare in unison.

X

After hauling the kids back to the lake house, Tony sets Peter and Morgan up on the couch with another movie (Pirates of the Caribbean this time) and heads to the kitchen to fix them all some lunch. Potatoes and turnips are both high in iron, so he cooks and mashes up a big potful with some milk, butter, and salt, figuring that would be easy to chew without hurting the kid’s face too much. He scoops some into a bowl for Peter and then whips up another green smoothie for him to drink, as well as sandwiches for himself and Morgan. Once everything is ready, he piles it all onto a tray and heads back.

As he approaches the living room, Tony can already hear Morgan’s voice floating towards him in the falsetto stage-whisper she always uses when she’s voicing make-believe characters.

“Help me! Help me!” she cries. “Oh no, I’m falling!”

Tony stops in the room’s threshold to watch. The movie is still playing in the background, but neither kid seems to be watching. Instead, Peter is lying on his back on the sofa with his eyes closed, giggling quietly while Morgan kneels on the floor in front of the cushions, dancing a single M&M around the edges of the boy’s open mouth.

Suddenly, she drops the candy into his mouth with a dramatic gasp. “Noooo… the king has fallen into the pit! The anemia monster got him!” she cries.

“The anemia monster?” Tony asks in amusement.

Peter’s eyes snap open. “Uh, we were just playing a game.”

Morgan turns back to look at her dad, grinning. “Chocolate is on the list Uncle Bruce gave him!” she says, waving the piece of paper in Tony’s direction.

“Pretty sure that says dark chocolate,” Tony says, eyes narrowing at them as he crosses the room. “Not leftover M&Ms from the Christmas stash.”

Morgan’s face falls. “Aw…”

Tony sets the tray of food down on the coffee table. “Don't worry, kids,” he says, passing Peter the kale and fruit-rich protein smoothie. “Iron Man to the rescue.”

X

Link to all my fics

If you liked this story, you might also like:

Morgan Stark, M.D.

Dad Level: 3000

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X

[dimensiontripperhibiki]

The End is Where we Begin (4/?)

Just a couple of things I want to clarify at the start of this chapter - no, there won't be a love triangle. Don't worry about that. I think with the introduction of the 'crimson haired woman' it might be a concern for you guys but don't worry, it's not gonna happen, though I do want Lena to have her own storyline too. Also the pronunciation of Hisa = Hee-sa. :) Enjoy!

Lena let out a soft sigh as she subtly tugged up the sleeve of her blazer to check her watch. She’d only been waiting for her coffee for a couple of minutes but she wanted to get out of the coffee shop as soon as possible. She could feel everyone staring at her, their eyes burning holes into the back of her neck. She wasn’t surprised. Most people in National City knew her by reputation if nothing else. Most of them knew her for her work and a few of them, she was sure, still simply knew her as the sister of Lex Luthor. At the sound of her name being called, she looked up to see the impatient blonde woman behind the counter holding out her coffee to her. She took it, forcing a smile to her face and muttered her thanks before she turned around on her heel. She bumped into something solid and her already loose coffee lid popped off, the coffee from inside the cup splashing out between herself and the person she’d bumped into. She gasped as hot coffee spilled out onto her hand and her grip instinctively loosened. Thankfully the person she’d bumped into reached out and took hold of the cup to make sure it didn’t fall to the floor. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going! Are you okay?”

Lena grimaced at the panicked tone of the woman she’d bumped into. “I’m fine. It seems most of it ended up on you.” She stared at the coffee dripping from the woman's leather jacket for a moment before she glanced up to check who she’d actually bumped into. Her brow furrowed slightly as she took in worried green eyes and striking red hair. 

“I’m sorry.” The woman said again. She straightened up, taking Lena’s coffee from her to set it down on the counter. “Were you burnt?” “I’m okay,” Lena answered with a slight shake of her head. She had to admit that she was a little bit irked but she wasn’t about to snap at the woman. “Have we met somewhere before?” “I don’t think so. Oh, I’m Hisa. Hisa Evergreen.” The woman said with a bright smile. She offered her hand out to Lena. “And I don’t need to ask you who you are, of course.” Lena automatically shook the woman’s hand, her brow furrowing. “My reputation precedes me then?” Hisa gave a gentle chuckle. “You shouldn’t be surprised. Almost everyone in the city has heard of you. I happen to be a big fan of you. Your work too, of course.” She noticed Lena’s gaze flick to her now mostly empty coffee cup on the table. “Shit! Let me buy you another coffee!” “That’s not necessa-” “It’s the least I can do.” Hisa interrupted, waving off Lena’s protests. “What are you drinking?” “Black coffee,” Lena answered with a small smile, figuring she wasn’t going to win the argument. The two of them rejoined the short queue together, trying to ignore the distasteful look from the barista who’d been sent to clean up their mess. Silence settled between the two of them and Lena felt herself slowly growing uncomfortable. “So you clearly know about my work. What do you do?” Hisa looked to Lena with a slight smile. “I’m a Lieutenant in the Canadian air force. Trauma surgeon. I’m not from here exactly. Just visiting.” “Oh, I see.” Lena nodded thoughtfully. She’d thought she had detected an accent. “So your name is from…?” “My father’s side. His grandfather is half Japanese which makes me a quarter Japanese. I’m named after my great grandfather’s mother.” Hisa explained as she stepped forward. She turned her attention away from Lena for a moment to order her coffee. Lena took the moment of distraction to look the red-headed woman over. Something about her was strikingly familiar but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. When Hisa finished ordering coffee, they stepped to the end of the bar. “You seem to be far from home. If you don’t mind me saying.” Lena said, not wanting to let silence settle between them.  Truthfully she was somewhat intrigued too. Hisa chuckled softly. “Oh, I’m not sure where I’d even call home right now. I’m just...” “HISA!”  Hisa grimaced at the sound of her name being called. “Crap…” Lena frowned as a brunette appeared behind Hisa, grabbing her forearm to turn her around. “What the hell are you doing?” The brunette hissed angrily, her gaze briefly flicking toward Lena before she looked back toward the redhead. “We have things to do and you’re wasting your time in a goddamn coffee shop?! Why are you...dripping? Can you do anything right?” “I can do what I want in my free time, Siobhan. I’m just…” “What did I tell you about saying my name in public? Just hurry up! We wouldn’t want your sister to wonder where you are, would we?” With that said, the brunette pushed Hisa’s arm away, clearly making every attempt to inflict as much pain as possible without being too obvious about it, before she turned and stormed out of the cafe. “I’m really sorry about that.” Hisa said, staring after the brunette. “She can be a little...bossy.” “Your...friend? Girlfriend?” Lena asked, frowning in concern. She could see that Hisa’s eyes had misted over slightly. “I should go. Again, I’m sorry she caused a scene. It was nice meeting you, Lena.” “Wait!” Lena reached out and grabbed Hisa’s hand as she started to walk away. When the redhead looked back at her in confusion, Lena felt a wave of regret. She’d said she wouldn’t do this anymore. Not after Kara. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very wrong. She used her free hand to fish around in her back until she emerged with a business card which she quickly checked before pressing into Hisa’s hand. “My personal number is on the back. You should call me if you’re in any trouble.” “I appreciate that. But I’m fine. Have a nice day.” Hisa drew her hand away from Lena before she rushed out of the shop. Lena watched with a furrowed brow. She was sure she’d seen the brunette from earlier before. She just couldn’t remember where. “Miss! MISS, your coffee!” Lena sighed and turned around, taking her coffee from the visibly annoyed barista. She bit back the urge to snap at her and nodded her thanks instead before she left the shop, her mind still fixed on her strange encounter. ----

“Is she okay?” Kara turned her gaze to the door at the sound of Alex’s voice and found her walking into the room, an irritated look on her face. She grimaced and started to push herself off the bed. “She’s better.” Nia answered, nodding in response. “She seems stronger and she isn’t showing any signs of being affected by the kryptonite now. I watched her for any, like you said.” “Good.” Alex gripped Kara’s shoulder and lightly pushed her back down onto the bed. “Because we need to talk and I don’t want you flying away.” Kara sighed, throwing her arm over her eyes. “Alex, I don’t have time for this. I have to get back to work and…” “Oh really? Because I heard you haven’t been to work in a week.” Alex retorted sharply. “What the hell happened out there, Kara?” “I did my job.” Kara answered without moving her arm. She didn’t want to look at Alex and see the anger and disappointment on her face. “Nobody died and nobody was hurt.” “Besides you, you mean. Because you did get hurt. You nearly died, Kara! I gave you a direct order and you disobeyed me!” “Disobeyed?” Kara pushed herself up, staring hard at Alex. “Are you talking as my boss or my sister right now?” Nia swallowed thickly as she glanced between them. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen them in such a bad fight before and the last thing she wanted was to see it continue. “Kara, if you…” “Don’t!” Kara snapped, her eyes flitting toward Nia. “Please. Not yet.” “What’s wrong with you?” Alex asked, genuine worry mixed in with her anger now. “You’re acting reckless, you’re ignoring my orders, you’re not going to work, you’re snapping at everyone. Not to mention what you almost did to Nia’s arm a few days ago.” Nia guiltily bit her lip as Kara glanced toward her. “I didn’t say anything about it, I think J’Onn…” “J’Onn did the right thing by telling me.” Alex interrupted with a frown. “I need to know if you’re not safe.” Kara gritted her teeth at the insinuation. “You think she’s not safe around me? It was an accident!” Nia decided to step in, worried by the hurt look on Kara’s face beneath the anger. “I don’t think that’s what she meant.” Alex held up her hand to stop Nia. “It’s exactly what I meant. I think when you’re like this you’re a danger. Especially to yourself.” Kara’s shoulders slumped and she bowed her head slightly. “I would never hurt any of you.” “Not intentionally.” Alex softened ever so slightly and reached out to rest her hand on Kara’s shoulder. “I’m worried about you, Kara. Just talk to me. If there’s something wrong we can figure it out together. Like we always have.” “There’s nothing to talk about.” Kara shrugged Alex’s hand off and got off the bed. “I have to go.” “Kara.” Alex called as Kara walked away from her. She watched as Kara paused. “Take some time off.” “Is that an order?” Alex sighed. She didn’t want it to be like this. “Yes.” Kara scoffed and walked out of the room, heading down the hallway. Nia sighed heavily and perched on the edge of the bed. She wished that Kara would just come to her senses and tell Alex what was going on. If anyone could help, it would be Alex.  

----

“If I didn’t know you could fly I might be worried.” Kara jerked in surprise, turning her head to see Lena walking across the roof toward her. “Lena!” She pressed her hand to her chest, taking a deep breath. “You scared me! How did you get up here?” “I have my ways. I used to own this building, remember?” “I didn’t hear you come up.” Kara murmured, frowning at the idea. Her super-hearing should have kicked in as soon as Lena got to the roof. Before that even. “What are you doing here?” “I could ask you the same thing.” Lena stopped next to the ledge and offered her hand to Kara, raising an eyebrow. “Are you going to help me up?” Still puzzled, Kara gently took Lena’s hand and helped her up onto the edge, bracing herself for any sign that Lena was going to fall. She relaxed slightly only when she was sure that Lena was steady. “Did you do something to your hair? It looks a little...shorter.” Lena subconsciously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and gave a slight shake of her head. “No. I didn’t do anything.” She lowered herself down until she could sit with her legs dangling over the edge of the building. “It’s a long way down.” “Yeah.” Kara murmured softly, glancing down at the city streets below them. She let out a soft breath before she sat down next to Lena. “Why are you here?” “I was looking for you,” Lena answered honestly. “Why else would I be standing on the roof of CatCo?” “No, I mean...why were you looking for me?” Kara asked in confusion. “I thought you still hated me.” She noticed Lena flinch out of the corner of her eye and turned to frown at her. “I don’t understand.” “Nothing is ever as simple as love and hate. I thought you of all people would realize that.” Lena was silent for a long moment while Kara stared at her. She leaned forward, watching cars go by beneath her feet. “I saw what happened. On the news.” “Oh.” Kara swallowed thickly, recalling her argument with Alex. “I…” “You think that now you’re destined to die, you're invincible.” Lena’s voice came out sharply but she still didn’t look up at Kara. “You think that as long as this crisis you’ve seen isn’t here yet, you’ll survive anything. That’s not how this works, Kara. You’ve been given knowledge of your future. You know what’s to come but you could die tomorrow and create a new timeline. Maybe one you haven’t seen yet. This isn’t the time to be reckless. If anything you need to value your life now more than ever.” “What if I value my life too much?” Kara’s voice was strained as she spoke and it drew Lena’s gaze toward her. “What if I don’t want to die? I know it’s selfish but I have a life. I’m not just Supergirl, Lena. I have friends, family...and I’m supposed to leave them behind? It’s not fair! How am I supposed to tell Alex and my mom I’m...” Lena’s expression softened with sympathy as tears brimmed in Kara’s eyes. Her grip on the edge of the wall tightened and she briefly glanced over her shoulder before letting out a soft sigh. “This doesn’t mean I’m not angry with you. Or that we’re friends again. When I see you tomorrow, we don’t talk about this, okay? This never happened. Kara, I need you to promise me.” Kara nodded, her head bowed though she wasn’t even sure what she was agreeing to. She didn’t care. She saw movement from the corner of her eye and suddenly arms were wrapped around her, drawing her into a warm body. She turned instinctively, burying her face into the crook of Lena’s neck as a sharp sob escaped her. Lena sighed, gently stroking Kara’s hair as tears brimmed in her own eyes. She stubbornly blinked them away and focused her attention on the building across the street instead. “I don’t know how to tell her, Lena.” Kara whimpered, grasping the back of Lena’s shirt. “I don’t want to hurt her and  i-if Alex knows, it’s…” “Real.” Lena finished softly for Kara as the kryptonian trailed off. “It makes it real.” Kara nodded and slowly drew back to look at Lena. “How do I do it?” Lena let her hand come to rest lightly on Kara’s shoulders, her gaze fixated to the tracks of tears on Kara’s cheeks. “I don’t know, Kara.” She said quietly, her expression pained. “This isn’t something I have much expertise in, as you know. I’m sorry.” Kara closed her eyes for a brief moment before she seemed to steel herself and nodded. “I shouldn’t be asking you. You’re already helping me more than I deserve. Do you want me to take you home?” Lena answered with a sad smile. “I can walk. I’ll be okay.” Kara looked like she was going to argue for a moment before she nodded in response. “Alright.” Lena slowly shuffled her way off the ledge, aware of the way Kara tensed in case she fell. When she was back on her feet, she turned toward Kara, idly fidgeting with the ring hanging from the necklace around her neck. “You remember what you promised me? We don’t talk about this tomorrow. Tonight never happened. I didn’t sit with you on this roof, we didn’t talk. None of it happened.” Kara frowned slightly in confusion. “I remember. But...why?” “Kara.” “Okay, I-I promise.” Kara answered hurriedly. The last thing she wanted was to make Lena angry. She stared at Lena’s back as the brunette turned to walk away. “Are you sure you didn’t do something to your hair?” “I’m sure, Kara.” Lena called back. She lifted her hand up in a slight wave without turning around. “I’ll see you in my office tomorrow. Don’t be late.” TBC

[felicismagic18873]

We’re there, Kid (3)

Summary:Tony wrapped his arms around the kid who had barreled into his chest with a broken whisper of ‘Mr.Stark’. He almost joked about the kid’s obsession with trying to hug him but stopped when he realized something that sent a chill down his spine. The kid was crying.

His shoulders shook under Tony’s hands as he took shuddering breaths, a wet spot formed on Tony’s T-Shirt. Tony tightened his hold, what could have happened to the kid in the last few hours to do this?

—Peter finds himself back in time before everything happened. Somehow it is too much and not enough at the same time.

Part 2

Peter woke up with a start, going from sleep to wakeful in a single instant, his hand lashing out to grab the wrist that was about to touch his face. It took him one second to realize whose hand it was and another to feel internally horrified that he could have easily broken May's wrist if he hadn't subconsciously controlled his strength. 

"May?", Peter whispered, his voice laden with sleep. "Wha'?"

May who still seemed to be in shock, quickly pulled herself out of it and proceeded to glare at Peter, "Get up Pete, we need to talk."

Peter sat up slowly, letting go of May's wrist gently and running a hand through his hair. May seemed to be gathering her courage, she crossed her arms and Peter recognized the look on her face with an internal sigh. It was her 'I am gonna parent you whether you like it or not' look, it usually appeared when May convinced herself that she needed to be more strict with him.

"Look, I know I said I was okay with you being Spider-man and all but we made a deal, Pete. You get to continue this hero stuff as long as it doesn't interfere with your studies, "

"But it's not," Peter insisted.

"Well, apparently it is cause you decided it was okay for you to leave school halfway through the day without a word and then return home as if nothing happened. This can't go on, Peter." 

Peter leaned back, suddenly tired. "It wasn't that,"

"What?"

"It wasn't anything Spidey related," He managed to say, his voice breaking a bit as the events of the day rushed back into his mind. Peter mentally prayed to whatever deity that was out there that this was actually happening that it wasn't some fever-induced dream.

May sat down next to him on the bed, her anger fading away in wake of his obvious sorrow, "Pete," she said in a soft manner, "Are you okay,Honey?" 

Peter choked down a chuckle, knowing that it might actually lead to him bawling his eyes out again. He heard that sentence way too many times in the past four months that by now the answer was a reflex of his, 

"Yeah, I am fine," He pretended he wasn't holding back from rushing out of the window once more and going back to the compound. It took everything in him not to run back to Mr.Stark.

May clearly didn't believe him, she just waited silently for him to continue. 

"I'm fine May, really. I just...uh-It was stupid. Flash was being a jerk and I wasn't feeling well anyways so...it was rash, I know. It won't happen again, " 

May stared at him for a while before dropping the matter, it was clear he had no intention to continue the discussion, "Yeah, that'll be ideal really. But Pete," She waited for him to look at her, "You know you can talk to me about stuff right? I know you didn't want me to make a complaint against Flash but just-anything...anything you wanna talk about, I'm here," 

Peter almost broke down right there, almost admitted everything that was going on, the empty feeling he had for the past few months, the pain and loss, how hard it was to do anything.

Almost.

Outwardly he just nodded his head and said, "Right,"

May reminded him that as it was Sunday she would probably have night duty and left to get ready.

Peter watched her go.He couldn't tell her, he couldn't be that selfish. He knew how these stories ended, if he was in the past he couldn't babble to anyone about the future, not even Mr.Stark. But he needed help, a sudden idea flashed through his mind and it might be stupid, it was something at least.  He got up from his bed and opened up his Stark Tablet. He took a deep breath before typing in 'Doctor Stephan Strange'

-------------------------------------------------------------------

There wasn't any recent news about Doctor Strange, it seemed like the surgeon (and wasn't that a shock, he was a real doctor) had disappeared a few months after his accident.  And while that was disappointing, he was sure he could find one way or another to contact the wizard. 

It was weird seeing him in pictures without his extravagant attire, even more so when looking at him reminded Peter of endless space, of the battle he didn't think he'd survive but he managed to somehow. It reminded him of death.

There was a reason Peter had pulled back from everything Spiderman and Avenger related since taking off his uniform for the funeral, and it definitely wasn't him being too busy.

Finally, after hours of research Peter finally reached the conclusion that there was no way to approach this delicately, he'd just have to barge his way into the wizard's lair ( what was it called again?) and speak to him. 

Doctor Strange had been missing for over a year, it was enough time for him to...gain his powers or whatever, wasn't it?

Well, there was only one way to find out. Peter cast one glance at the spidey suit peeking through the wardrobe, then turned away and pulled on his sneakers.

Even if he'd only visited the lair once, he was pretty confident he'd be able to make his way there. He double-checked that he had his phone with him and grabbed a web shooter on the way out. It never hurt to be prepared.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Peter struggled not to fidget as he stood in front of the plain door of the not-so-plain place. He took a deep breath and raised a hand to knock on the door when it opened with a creak, which seeing there was no one visible through the glass panels on the door, was kinda creepy. 

Peter made a face, he didn't remember the lair being this...disorienting. Maybe it was because the last time he was here, he'd focused most of his energy trying not to scream at the sorcerer (Spoiler, he failed). He straightened his back and walked in with a confidence he didn't feel. 

"Who are you? And what is it you seek from the sanctum, trespasser?", spoke the kinda familiar voice. 

Peter looked up the stairs where Doctor Strange's friend, Kong? Wong? was standing. He looked tense.

Peter prepared to say what he'd rehearsed in his mind multiple times on his way there but what came out was, "I don't think it classifies as trespassing when you open the door for someone, I mean you kinda invited me in, not to say that I am not grateful for that but-"

"What is it you seek?", Wong cut him off, asking in a more stern voice. 

Peter stopped his rambling and got to the point, "I wish-ah, no, I need to speak to Doctor Strange? Like, Stephen strange?" 

Wong looked expressionless, " Stephen Strange isn't here." 

"What?" Peter managed to control his tone, even if he did feel like screaming out loud " But-But, that's not. He should be here, the time is right. He is a wizard, isn't he? He has to be here!"

Anxiety gripped his insides, Strange was supposed to be here, what was he going to do now? What if he wasn't even a wizard yet? What if him telling Wong the doctor's name somehow jeopardized the doctor becoming a sorcerer? How was he-

"Calm down, Kid. He's just not in right now," Wong shrugged a bit, walking down the stairs. His tone changed as though he had realized that Peter meant no harm." Though I would like to know who you are and how you knew of the sanctum, only those that know its location can see it." 

Peter let out a relieved breath and absently nodded, "Yeah, I know. It is like Harry Potter style wards, right? Like the Fidieus "

Wong looked like he didn't know whether to be insulted or not. 

Peter took a deep breath, " Look, My name is Peter Parker. And I- Just tell Doctor Strange it's about the stone, alright? Just tell him I need to talk to him. Can you do that for me, Please?" 

"What about the stone?" 

Peter turned around startled, and there he stood, Doctor Stephen Strange, In all his wizardry glory. He looked unimpressed.

"What about the stone?" The doctor repeated the question, raising an eyebrow.

Peter let out a sigh of relief, then stuffed his hands in his hoodie's pocket, "Its.....a loooong story." 

Strange crossed his arms, "Well then it's good that we have the time, yes?"  He opened one of his magical portals, showing the view of a study room with a table and chairs.

Time. Peter felt like laughing. No, they didn't have the time. There was never enough time.

They walked in.

Strange waited for him to finish his tale, asking a few clarifying questions on the way but not giving any input. In the end, Peter's throat felt hoarse, his eyes burned from the effort of not crying. He kept the story as informative and emotionally distant as possible.

"-He snapped away half of the universe. I was one of them, I got snapped away too."

A sentence, just a sentence not showing the tragedy that lies behind it. It was hard enough living with the whole battle playing in his head constantly, he couldn't bring himself to tell all the details. Not the painful ones, the deaths, the loss.

"He...I-Iron man saved everyone. He used the stones to destroy Thanos's army."

Screams. Tears. Burning flesh. Him, screaming. 

"And then you found yourself here, no idea how?"

Peter forced himself to nod, He took a huge gulp of the water Strange had provided him halfway through the story. The water helped soothe his throat a bit. 

"Thanos. You said he needed all the stones to work?" Strange was frowning, looking bothered.

Peter nodded again wondering where the doctor was going with this. Strange stood up from the chair looking agitated.

"It doesn't make sense," Strange's hand seemed to gravitate towards his necklace.

He's from space, he came here to steal a necklace from a wizard.

"Yes, it does. Come on, Mr.Strange" Peter stood up as well, "All we need to do is destroy the stone." He pointed at the necklace, "No stone equals no gauntlet and the universe remains protected." He pleaded a bit, remembering how stubborn the Doctor was about protecting the stone but surely even he could see that it was the only probable plan, a foolproof plan.

"Not possible," He shook his head.

"Look, " Peter took a calming breath, " I know you're like the protector of the stone and stuff but it didn't work! All it did was destroy half of the population,  you can't protect the stone. Even if we destroy the other stones he'll just use this one to bring them back!" 

"Mr.Parker-" Strange began.

"He'll find you and it will begin all over again. You have no idea what it was like and now that we have a chance you won't even-" 

"Mr.Parker!" 

Peters's mouth snapped shut, he was breathing heavily. Strange was pursing his lips. 

"It is not possible to destroy the stone, " He held up a finger when it looked like Peter was about to interrupt, " because it was already destroyed," The necklace opened with a click, it was empty. Strange looked at him intently, Peter didn't have any idea what he looked like. All he felt was shock. Disbelief clouded his mind.

"Destroyed?"  But it couldn't have been destroyed, this didn't happen before! The stone was fine and Strange gave it to Thanos and-and-

Strange nodded, "Destroyed. Five years ago, during the-"

"New York invasion." Peter breathed out, the words hanging in the air between them as silence took over both of them. What was going on?

[jack-andthestalk]

Our Son, The Deal, Chapter 3.

Thank you so much for the messages and asks for this story. I love hearing what you guys think, it always feeds into my writing in future chapters. 

The morning the Hellwater clients were due to arrive at Lallybroch, a weird like energy seemed to descend upon the Frasers. Ellen who was always an accomplished host, relaxed and competent at accommodating visitors in her home, appeared to be absolutely frazzled.  Brian resembled someone waiting on a promised attack, and Jamie wavered between zealous and sullen.  I took Willie into playschool and ran a few errands in the village. When I arrived back to Jamie’s cottage, Jenny was in the neighbouring one cleaning. Recognising my opportunity, I made two mugs of coffee and went to see her.

  Jenny’s mood wasn't too affected by the imminent arrival; instead, she was humming happily wiping down surfaces. “The Dunsany sisters will be staying in this cottage” she explained, and Lord Dunsany and Dougal will stay in the main house.”

  “Jenny?” I said cautiously not sure exactly what I wanted to know. “What is it about these clients? Everyone seems so ….” For lack of a better word I hazarded “highly strung?”, Jenny looked up from what she was doing and smiled knowingly “Ach each of them for different reasons Claire”, when my brows furrowed she threw down her cloth and accepted the mug of coffee from me, “What I mean is there are different reasons for Mam, Da and Jamie to be tense.” Jenny paused over the word tense and exhaled, “Mam doesna like Dougal, her brother” she clarified.

“Hmm Ok.” I gave her a nod in understanding   “that makes some sense...”, Jenny bowed her head “aye he isna someone ye could trust too easily, and he has shafted Mam in the past”, she gulped her coffee, placing a hand on her hip thoughtfully, “These Dunsany’s that he is bringing here…they're Big business ya ken? Own one of the largest Equestrian centres in Britain, Lord Dunsany is a personal friend of Dougal’s.” Jenny pressed her lips into a thin line and continued. “They’ve been buying horses from us for a while now ….but what they are here about this weekend…well, it would mean we would be the sole supplier of their stock, they're adding onto their premises in Hellwater, and building a state of the art equestrian centre, it will be used to train the best of the best". She paused raising her eyes in exclamation. My own widened, and Jenny continued. “It would make Lallybroch into a company, probably quadruple our workers, not to mention equipment and buildings that would be needed once the deal is established…it would secure the future of our business if ya like.”

  “so a lot is riding on this trip?” I stated unnecessarily.”, “Aye," she replied simply, Jenny smiled at me, her eyes like her brother were sparkling now, and I could see pride in them, she hesitated before she spoke again, "Jamie... well I'm no the type to lavish him with praise, but he has a talent for it, Aye?”.

  Her face lit up, "he knows just the right horses to cross breed to get the best animal, and he is renowned for his handling and training.” A bolt of pride ran through me at Jenny’s words.  “I dinna ken how he does it to be fair” She picked up her cloth and recommenced wiping a window ledge vigorously. “He can spot a good breeding horse a mile away, but it's not just that,  Jamie will consider what the animal will be used for and will match it with the best breed for its use. He will decide where that animal will be best trained and the equipment or method that should be used to get the best from the horse.”

  Jenny leaned up against the window for a moment and stared at her cloth thoughtfully before continuing, "Jamie has always been that way with the horses, he handles them, and whispers to them, they're almost hypnotised by him" she crooked an eye at me teasingly, "Ha maybe you do ken Claire" . A red flush ran up my face,   I could suddenly feel the ghost of Jamie's hand running up and over my hip that morning, his mouth tight to my ear as he whispered encouraging words to bring me into oblivion.  I dropped my gaze guiltily. Jenny just roared laughing, "Well then," she said pointedly.

  “He has bred and trained horses that have gone onto compete at the Olympics dressage or racing, she explained grinning at me,” it’s the main reason a lot of our buyers use us.” Jenny clarified soberly, “Jamie’s reputation.”

  Her face blushed slightly, and she gave me a sheepish look,  “Ya can see why Da couldna lose him to Boston?”

  “So it would seem” I breathed, “and that is what has Da's dander up”, she said quirking her mouth slightly, “what do you mean?” I asked puzzled. “Well, Dougal is hanging out of the Dunsany’s like he got us the deal when really Jamie did on account of what he sold them initially.”

“Oh” I played with the top of my coffee mug, “Is that what has Jamie annoyed then?”

Jenny shook her head laughing, “Ach no, he is edgy cause the Dunsany’s drive him mad, but he has to hold his tongue, or he will jeopardise the whole deal.”

  “Well then,” I said as I rolled up my sleeves, I better help you clean up!

                                It was late in the afternoon before Jamie got home; his face held the harsh tone of earlier but softened on seeing me. “ye look bonny Sassenach, with yer hair atop yer head like that.” Strong arms came around me from behind, and Jamie nestled his chin into my shoulder. “thanks”, I said while continuing to rummage in the press in front of me. “It’s my domestic hairdo,” I replied smirking and turned into his arms, “What do ye mean?”

  “Oh, I helped Jenny clean out the cottage next door for our ‘visitors’, whispering visitors as sinisterly as I could to make him smile. Jamie rolled his eyes, “I dinna want ye doing that Sassenach”, “um well Jenny was, am I not part of this family too...that I can’t be put to work on the family business?”

  Jamie’s face lit up, and he pressed on my lower back, so my hips bowed into him, “Yer part of my family aye,” he said smiling warmly “, and I am to be yer husband no?”

  “So I hear anyway, “I said grinning foolishly at him.

  “Aye well, Jamie bent to nibble against my ear, "in that case, it's my job to spoil ye and not have ye grafting like that.” His warm lips slipped onto mine, and I breathed him in. Jamie chuckled into my mouth “Asides Sassenach, yer a surgeon, not a housekeeper”,

  My eyes narrowed as a bold smirk formed on his lips, “it’s been like a bomb hit this house since ye arrived, I dinna ken why it’s next-door yer cleaning.” I pinched him full into his stomach, and he let out a large puff of breath. Pulling me to him again, pinching my sides until I was bent over wheezing, he suddenly lifted me and threw me over his shoulder, grasping my arse almost painfully. “Where are you bringing me?” I squeaked out, between screeches into his back, Jamie continued slapping my bottom and scolding me in Gaelic. “I am”, he continued while trying to manage my squirming “going to make love to my betrothed”, throwing open his bedroom door and shutting it with his foot again, he landed me unceremoniously on his bed, so I bounced slightly. I managed to look down, Jamie was crawling over me with a predatory look in his eye. “I have one hour to make ye scream afore our son comes home.”

    His hand ran over himself as he tugged on his zipper, "god Claire" he huffed, "I never stop wanting ye" a bolt ran between my legs, as he roughly grabbed at the button of my jeans. I bit my bottom lip; smiling up at him "don't make me scream too loud" he bent to kiss me, and I continued talking into his mouth "remember we have the Dunsany's next door..." my words were breathy and lacked real concern. Jamie pulled away from my lips crooked one wicked eye at me, “Oh let them hear”.

    _____________________________________________

  First impressions, Geneva Dunsany, was far more uptight than her younger much more likeable sister, Isobel. She was currently sitting across from me cutting her food into minuscule bites, pushing it around her plate and making a face of distaste as she attempted to swallow it.

  Her gaze flickered around the table until eventually, it rested on me “Claire, isn’t it? I spotted you leaving our cottage with Jenny this afternoon but didn't get a chance to say hullo or to thank you, the cottage is beautiful” she gave me a smile that didn't reach her eyes and waited for my reaction carefully. “No problem at all, Geneva isn't it?” She nodded, darting her tongue out to wet her lips before taking a small sip of wine. I, in turn, drank deeply.

  When I looked up again, Geneva was peering at me over the top of her wine glass inquisitively. “How long have you worked for the Frasers?” her cheeks raised for a second as she shot me another weak smile.

“Well no, I don’t actually work for them…trying to add humour

I finished lamely with "well I suppose you could call it work....”

   Geneva’s brow furrowed slightly, Jamie half turned his attention from Lord Dunsany  "Well,” she said biting her lip and gazing at Jamie in a way that made me feel completely uncomfortable “I would imagine the Frasers are tremendously supportive in the workplace if James is any measure”. I came to the sudden realisation that the Lady Geneva was indeed very sweet on 'James'.

Looking to my right demurely, I batted my eyelashes at Jamie, who smirked at my subtle attempt to flirt “Oh tremendously” another long sip of wine. 

  One of Jamie’s eyes crooked at an angle, bewildered. “Tremendous at what?” he probed “Well James” Geneva purred padding her mouth genteelly with a cloth napkin, “I was just saying to Claire that I imagine your family would be wonderful to work for.”

  Jamie took a long sip from his own glass, sucking in his top lip as he placed his glass down. “We aren't too bad...I suppose?", a flash of teeth, “why do ye ask?”

Geneva turned to me a bemused expression across her face. “I was just saying to Claire she did a wonderful job on preparing our little cottage, she will be a great asset”.  We seemed to have grabbed the rest of the dinner party's attention, as I pinked slightly conscious of several sets of eyes on me. “An asset?” Jamie cut across, his lips pursed and hands clasped together, resting on the table as if in prayer, engaged.

  Geneva glanced around the room quickly, her cheeks flushing “well at working for Lallybroch estates?” she clarified.

Jamie just snorted, head downwards and shaking from side to side, “She doesna work at Lallybroch.” He said grinning, he took  my hand delicately in his, rubbing over the diamond on my ring finger, eyes soft now as they sought me out  “Claire is the future Mrs Fraser.”

  It was only a second, but I watched Geneva’s face crumble before she fixed a bright smile across her lips. Hand shakily grabbing for her wine glass, it was the sympathy in Isobel's eyes watching Geneva that made me wonder how deep her feelings ran. “Congratulations” her voice wavered slightly.

  “We are having a small little celebration tomorrow night for Claire and Jamie, and hoped ye would be able to attend?” Ellen said smiling warmly before her sweeping glance fell on her brother and it cooled considerably. Dougal Mc Kenzie was in some ways the complete opposite to Ellen, he lacked her warmth, graciousness and kindness but I couldn’t argue that he didn’t share her astuteness. Since he had arrived alongside the Dunsany's he appeared to be presenting the Frasers as a sacrificial offering on a plate, there was something in it for him to facilitate this visit and I wondered if he was loyal to anyone, only himself?

  Dougal pushed his chair back from the table abruptly, almost bouncing his discarded dessert spoon across his plate. “Ellen dear sister, would ye be so kind as to bring  some cognacs into the drawing room?” the gentleman has some business to discuss.”

  Ellen looked at Dougal bemusedly, almost a hint of sympathy in her tone when she said “Dougal, I dinna ken what century ye think it is, but my husband is well fit to serve ye cognac, and if ye think for a minute the business ye consider only involve the men occupying the house tonight, ye are very much mistaken.”

  Dougal's 6ft, 6 height did nothing to intimidate his sister and when he opened his mouth to argue Ellen raised her hand, “I will join my husband if the matter is to do with our business” the ‘our’ said an octave higher than the rest. Ellen smiled warmly over at Brian “as always”; Brian ran his hand over the back of his wife’s “as always” he repeated softly.

  Dougal let out a huff of breath and swigged down a large gulp of whiskey, his cheeks were naturally ruddy, it was hard to tell if the deeper flush was to do with his temper or the vast amount of whiskey he had put away.

  “Of course sister,” he said smiling sweetly. Lord Dunsany’s deep aerostatic voice cut through the family tension. “Ellen, Brian, I will gladly discuss the matter with you of course, but its imperative that James should attend, he is the carrot in this deal.” He clapped Jamie on the back, and all eyes flicked to him, he didn't look at all surprised at Lord Dunsany's words but attempted a wink in my direction and said: “Aye, I will be there.”

  I squeezed Jamie’s hand “good luck, I will go ahead up to the cottage with Willie”. As I rose to leave Geneva stood, “you know I think you are right Ellen, I would like to talk business too, after all” she looked to her sister, “decisions taken today will affect us further down the line”, she gave me a curt nod, and excused herself from the table.

  ________________________

  I lay awake for some time hoping Jamie would return and tell me how it went, but I eventually was lulled to sleep.

  He woke me with a gentle shake sometime before dawn, my eyes were blurry from sleep, I rubbed them quickly and ran my hand through my hair, now able to take Jamie in, he looked positively wild, his hair standing in rufts ontop his head, clothes dishevelled and his eyes bloodshot. My heart started to beat painfully against my chest.

“Sassenach,” he said in a solemn whisper, “we need to talk.”

[pllandcompany]

Fire Meet Gasoline (Part One)

Summary: Hospital!AU. It’s Family Day at Sanders-Stokes Memorial and Patton’s parents are in town…and they want to meet Virgil. Meanwhile, Roman and Logan have their first couple’s therapy session.

Warnings: discussion of medical procedures, mention of past gun violence, mention of past addiction and drug use, past eating disorder mention, anxiety, nausea mention, some swearing

Pairings: QPP Moxiety and Romantic Logince

Tagged: @ziallwarrior @thefallendog @apologieslogan @trueunreal @flyingfreeyt @thecatchat @crofters-jam @jakesmolbean @band-be-boss-blog @ab-artist @asylia-5911 @backatthebein @oonagh-una

Notes: I can’t stay away from this ‘verse! I feel like I’m writing too much in it but it’s all I’m inspired for lately. This definitely isn’t as heavy as the last series so enjoy a breath of fresh air! Also, peep those resourced Cartoon Therapy characters!

Despite his penchant for ice cream, his occasionally childish ways, and eternal love of cartoons, Dr. Patton Parker was an adult, thank you very much. He enjoyed alcohol. He could change a flat tire, make a mean spinach omelet, hold a detailed conversation about politics, and suture a mitral valve defect in utero faster than anyone he knew.

That did not stop him from jumping joyously into his parents’ arms when they arrived knocking on his office door.

“MOM! DAD!” His shout drew the attention of the entire nurses’ station, one of them spilling their coffee. Patton gasped, hands immediately flying to his face. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you!” The nurse nodded and waved, still looking rather pleasant for someone who just lost their source of energy.

“You must be well-liked around here. Spilled coffee in my office is practically an HR offense,” his dad joked, patting his son on the shoulder. “Yeah, you could say that,” was the stammered response, a blush quickly spreading across his face. The three shared a quick chuckle before Dot, Patton’s mom, swooped in to fuss over him.

“Oh sweetie, come here, let me look you over. Oh, you look so tired, are you sleeping? And what have you done with your hair? You’re practically bald on one side!”

“It’s called a side cut for a reason, Mom. Virgil and I got it together. You should see his; it was bright purple before he started growing it out. Department head and all, he’s going for a more professional look.”

“Oh right, he did get that promotion! Oh, we’re so proud of him, son,” Larry, Patton’s father chimed in. “Can we sit?”

“Sure!”the fetal surgeon beamed, closing the door behind him. “Oh, I’m so happy you’re both here! I needed to see you, more than I realized.”

“I can only imagine. We were so worried when you told us about what happened with that awful shooting. Oh honey, are you all right? That must have been horrible to go through, do tell us if you’re all right?” Dot brought both hands up to his face, fretting over the worry lines around his mouth and eyes. “You look so tired. Are you sleeping? Are you eating?”

“Dot, don’t overwhelm the boy. He’s a Parker! Therefore he’s strong. Right, son?” Larry eyed him with a soul-searching gaze.

“But you can tell us if you’re not! You don’t have to be all right for us if you’re not, sweetie.”

“He’s fine, darling, you don’t need to fuss over him.” They bickered back and forth momentarily while Patton briefly closed his eyes, blocking out their chatter. This is why I could never tell them about my depression, he thought to himself. Their extremes made it difficult to confide in them; Dot with her incessant worrying and Larry with his stubborn insistence that Parkers never ever got overwhelmed. Patton was grateful, of course. They were wonderful parents.

They just were a bit…much at times.

“I’m fine, you guys. Really, Virgil and I are both good. You don’t need to worry, Mom, we’re good.” Patton’s trademark smile spread across his face. His heart rate began to slow once Dot finally calmed down, leaned back, and rested her hands in her lap. “Okay, sweetie, I believe you. Speaking of Virgil, though…could we possibly…meet him?”

Patton could barely stop his jaw from dropping. “You…you want to meet him? Really?”

“Of course! We were so excited when you told us you’d found someone who was accepting of your sexual orientation. I mean, aside from us, of course,” Dot clarified, grabbing Patton’s hands in hers. Patton fought the urge to roll his at the memory of his mother's reaction to his coming out as asexual. The next day, she proceeded to throw an all out ace themed dinner party, complete with napkins, paper plates, and a tablecloth with– you guessed it – aces of all suits printed all over them.

"I had to buy out their whole stock to have enough to pull out just the ones with aces on them!" He clearly remembered her bright tone and elated expression as she held up the discarded napkins to punctuate her point. He could also vividly recall the way his father stood back, a silently fuming dichotomy to her cheerfulness. They had ended up fighting that night after Patton "went to bed" over Dot's overindulgence.

It's actually not a great memory for Patton. The grounded, calm, accepting conversation they had as a family three days later about his future as a member of the LGBT community was all he really needed.

Dot's voice brought him back to reality. “Knowing that someone loves my son for who he is makes us over the moon with joy. Of course I want to know who that person is.”

“Only if he wants to,” Larry added, “…but we really hope he does.” Patton observed how his dad was practically vibrating with anticipation.​ He smiled again, simultaneously thanking the universe for his accepting parents and praying that this wouldn't end up in another ace decorated disaster.

"As long as he's okay with it...of course you can meet him. But I have to check with him first, you know? It's a big step, I just want to make sure he's ready."

"Oh, my thoughtful, caring son. Of course, we're in town for the whole weekend so you just let us know!" Dot exclaimed. "Come on, honey, we've gotta go check in to the hotel before 11!" Larry chided sternly, grasping his wife's hand and leading her out gently. She turned to face Patton and walked backwards out of the room, talking the whole time. "Call us later, sweetie! We'll do dinner after we watch your surgery! Oh, I can't wait to see you in action!" As he tried to rush them out of the office, Larry ended up slamming directly into another nurse who had yet another coffee hit the ground. "Oh no, I am so, so sorry! But hey, like father, like son, am I right?" Larry attempted to elicit a chuckle out of her but the nurse just glared at him, her chocolate eyes dark pools of irritation. Patton was on his feet in a flash, grabbing a stray surgical towel from his cabinet to help clean up the mess. "I am so sorry," he whispered.

"Dot, come on. We need to get out here before we start barreling over patients," Larry grumbled, his face red with embarrassment. "Bye, sweetie!" Dot called out over her shoulder, while being practically dragged by her husband.

"That your parents? They seem so opposite," the nurse mumbled, blowing her wiry curls out of her face. Patton looked up and nodded. "Yep, that's them. They're a crazy pair, for sure."

"Must be overwhelming to have them around." She sat back and watched Patton watching his parents sprinting down the hall.

"Yes, it is. And I wouldn't change a thing."

****

"Dr. Courtland to the ER lobby. Paging Dr. Courtland to the ER lobby." Virgil mimicked a crackly intercom voice while Roman walked up to the waiting room desk, his lips pursed in annoyance.

"Virgil, I was with a patient, this better be good." He eyed the trauma surgeon sternly, hands going to his hips.

"I don't know, see for yourself if what I called you for is good enough," he shrugged nonchalantly, gesturing vaguely to something behind Roman. He turned around, his expression of confusion instantly melting to excitement.

"Remy! Are you seriously here right now?"

"In the freakin' flesh bro." The younger man smirked and opened his arms. "Come hug me, I wasn't kidding about the flesh part. I'm squishable now."

"Oh, Remington, you stop it, you are beautiful!" Roman flowed into his arms and held tightly, grateful for the gentle give of muscle under his fingers. He leaned back and took in his brother's full face and bright eyes. "I am so proud of you. You've done so well in recovery."

"Let me tell you, sis, it has not been easy, like, at all but...I think this time it's gonna stick. Like mashed potatoes to my ribs," Remy playfully slapped his chest, eliciting a shake of the head from Roman.

"I see your twisted sense of humor hasn't changed."

"Did you really expect it to?" Remy smirked a second time, his expression softening at the unshed tears in Roman's eyes. "Hey, Ro, it's okay. Anorexia is a bitch but I'm a bigger one. It didn't take me out, I'm here."

Roman sniffled and tried to regulate his breathing. "I know, I know, it's just...can we sit?" Remy nodded and Virgil guided them to a private family room, sensing their need for a moment alone. Roman took a second to silently thank him before closing the door and turning to his brother.

"Please tell me this is not the room where you tell people that their folks are dead and shit," Remy deadpanned, looking mildly horrified.

"Fine, I won't tell you then," Roman responded, wiping his eyes and attempting to smile. Remy cocked his head to the side in sympathy. "What's with all the tears, Ro? I swear to you, I'm okay." They sat down the couch next to each other, Remy's body slightly twisted to face his older brother.

"It's not just that. I mean, I am so happy about that but that's not all of it," Roman's voice was watery, suppressed emotions fighting to be released.

"Is it about...you know, the...shooting?" Remy mumbled the last word, afraid to upset Roman further. "Virgil told me you got shot. Fuck, Ro, that had to be insane."

Roman stared at the floor. "Oddly enough, what happened afterward was worse," he whispered.

"You're not...are you sick? Is it Alz-"

"No, Remington! It's nothing, just drop it! You're here and you're healthy and well, I wanna talk about that." Remy nodded his heads, hands up in surrender.

"Okay, take a chill pill, yikes, we'll move on." The room was quiet for a moment before Remy spoke up again. "Hey, where's that dreamboat doctor that you were sort of an ass to while he was saving my life? I want to see him, I'm sure he'd appreciate me getting my shit together and not wasting his work. Btw, did you and him ever end up hooking up? I hope so because let me tell you, the freakin' unresolved sexual tension between you two was thicker than molasses in winter-"

Remy was cut off by the very audible sobs coming from Roman. He froze for a moment, the gears turning in his mind as to what was unraveling his normally unflappable sibling.

"Oh my God, please tell me he's not dead." Roman shook his head vigorously, still too choked to talk. "Is he sick? What the hell happened to him, Roman? Tell me!"

Roman tried his best to cease his crying and actually answer his now panicked younger brother. "He...he ran into some trouble after the shooting. Everything...it hit him pretty hard and he struggled."

"Trouble, like...the drug-related kind?" Roman nodded. "He's in rehab, Rem. I'm sorry."

"No....no, oh my God, no, he seemed like he was doing so well. He was so solid when he talked to me about recovery; it was part of why I took it so seriously when I went to treatment."

Roman laughed bitterly. "Yeah, well, he's good at that, making you think everything is okay when it's not, when the world is actually crumbling to pieces right in front of you and you're too damn blind to see it!" He looked up and realized he was yelling by the shocked expression his brother wore. He took a deep breath and began again, willing himself to calm down. "We were...are involved. We actually have therapy together tomorrow. It'll be the first time in two months that I've seen him."

"What? Why so damn long? He needs you, Ro, you can't just, like, desert him."

"I know, but...I'm so...angry with him! He lied to me about so much while nearly destroying himself in secret when I could have helped him! And I love him wholeheartedly, more than I can bear sometimes but...how can I trust him? How can I trust anything he tells me?" 

Remy smiled sadly, taking his elder sibling's hands into his own. "Ro, that's totally what you're going there tomorrow to find out! Look, if Logan is anything like I was in a relapse, he wasn't himself at all. But tomorrow? Tomorrow, sweetie, you get to see the real him and I promise there is nothing better than that. So give him a chance to show you who he really is. Besides, y'all went through hell together, that totally has to mean something."

"Yes, but I want us to be together because we're meant to, not because we're trauma-bonded."

"And I'm sure he does too. He wouldn't invite you into his private torture time if he didn't want you there on some level." Roman raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Private torture time, Rem?"

Remy rolled his eyes. "Look, therapy sucks, okay? I get that's it's useful and necessary and saves lives and shit but that doesn't make it suck any less! And you don't just invite anybody to watch you break down slowly. Notice I didn't invite you to any of my sessions."

"Yeah, what's up with that?" Roman tried to joke despite himself.

"Not important!" Remy quipped, holding up a hand in Roman's face that he swatted away. "The point is Logan invited you to his so go and, yeah, be honest and shit but...hear him out too, okay?"

Roman chuckled to himself. "I can't believe the day has arrived where I'm taking advice from my little brother." Remy stood up, gathering his bag. "Well, believe it, Princey, you know I know my shit." Roman paused, a fond look crossing his face. "You haven't called me that in years, Rem."

"And I am totally stealing that, thanks dude," a gravelly voice called out from the doorway. The brothers' heads made a synchronized turn towards one Virgil Davidson who was leaning in the doorway wearing a smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes. Remy looked sheepishly at Roman's indignant expression, one that faltered slightly when he read the mild distress on Virgil's face. "You need the room," he said sympathetically. Virgil nodded in silence, the unspoken knowledge dawning on everyone in the room and eliciting a gasp from Remy. "You said-"

"I never said anything, Rem." He wrapped his arm around the younger man's shoulders and felt him shudder. "Oh my God, we have to get out of here, like, stat or whatever. I cannot be in this cursed place a second longer."

"They don't actually bring the body in there, drama queen," Roman said in amusement, leading his brother out of the "cursed" room.

"Oh, haha, Mr. Pot Meets Kettle. Whatever, let's go get lunch in the cafeteria. I want see that hot scrub nurse again, damn, he was a tall drink of chocolate thunder."

"That...that doesn't even make sense, Rem."

Virgil watched them walk away, shaking his head at the last of their conversation. He entered the room alone and shakily sat on the couch, stomach roiling with anxious nausea. He had to calm himself before he made himself ill. 4-7-8, Davidson. Just breathe. Family Day was always overwhelming for him, to a point where he usually called out and opted to visit his mother's grave instead. This year, he had overlooked the upcoming event and forgotten to make arrangements in time, an oversight due to his adjustment into his new position, no doubt. He tried to make the best of it by facilitating the surprise arrival of Roman's brother but even that proved to be difficult and isolating, only driving home his lack of a sibling or any tangible relatives. Seeing people happy with their parents and siblings while everyone in his family was either dead or in jail triggered him to no end. No one would be visiting him today. No one would be watching his surgeries...well, usually no one would. Again, this year was different. This year, he'd be meeting Patton's parents. Patton's loving, overbearing, borderline smothering parents. Virgil, who had never known real love until his partner Patton was now going to meet the very seat of his creation and hopefully measure up to the high standards they most certainly held for their incredible son. Virgil, the child of two addicts, raised by his single, hoarding aunt was supposed to be deemed good enough not just for Patton but for Patton and his family. Right. He can do this. He's Chief now. He's been through hell and back, much worse than this. He'll make them see he's worthy...right?

Virgil's head spun as his mind churned out about hundred different ways this could all go horribly wrong.

[georgialouisea]

Family

Characters - Dean x Reader, Jody, Bobby, unnamed Aunt, Sarah (ofc), Josh (omc). Word Count - 1940 Warnings -  Canon-typical violence, character deaths, blood, violence, mentions child neglect, angst, fluff. Summary -  A/N -  Written for @jayankles ‘ One year everything challenge, I had the prompt Family. 

At no point in your life could you say you had a normal ‘family’. Your Parents died when you were a few months old, leaving you in the care of your aunt, she resented the fact you were now hers, dropped on her when she was just 24. You took her youth away and in turn she made your childhood hell.

Nights alone, fending for yourself, learning to cook at maybe 5 or 6 you had a definite bond with Matilda. You watched her leave every night sometimes returning with a stranger or two.

School was never an issue, you thanked your parents for your genes, excelling in every class it gave you something to work towards. Your aunt, on the other hand, couldn't care less about your education, instead, she ignored each report card and parents evening.

As the years progressed she spiralled further out of control, drinking herself silly and sleeping with any man in her vicinity.

By 17 you’d had enough, sitting her down you tried to talk some sense into her, begging her to change how she was living, that only ended in her screaming in your face about how you destroyed her life, 17 years of missed opportunities all to raise an ungrateful brat.

You attended the local college so you could keep an eye on your Aunt, if you moved away you were 100% sure she would end up dead, even with you home she was in a cycle of waking up, working, drinking and passing out around the house.

Things started to look up when you were midway through med school. She hated you less and got herself back on track, got a promotion, a boyfriend and even stopped drinking.

After finishing your residency at the local hospital you felt good about life, things were finally looking up, your aunt and her now fiance Steve were planning a wedding.  All was good until you got a call to say there had been an incident at your aunt’s house.

Rushing home you were met with a sight straight out of a cop show, yellow tape everywhere, police cars blocking the roads, on the front lawn lay Steve, you caught a glimpse of him before a white sheet was laid over him shielding him from prying eyes.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Sarah one of the local officers approached you.

“She’s dead isn’t she?” You watched the forensics team enter the house and walk upstairs.

“Yes, I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“How? Who did it?”

“Both are still uncertain, I know it’s late and you’re still living here but we have somewhere for you to stay and we can get you some clothes.”

“Thank you.” Looking back at her you didn’t know how to feel, the woman who made your childhood hell was now dead, but so was the only person you had left to call family.

“Miss Y/L/N?” A tall man in a suit approached you and Sarah.

“It’s Doctor.” Sarah corrected him, making you cringe slightly.

“Sorry Doctor.”

“Just call me Y/N.” You smiled as a second man approached, even taller and with longer darker hair, both men were so handsome you thought about pinching yourself to check if this was real but with a glance over to Steve’s body on the lawn, you knew it was.

“We’re Agents Page and Plant.” The shorter of the two spoke, producing a badge from his jacket. “Can we ask you a few questions?”

“I don’t know anything, I got a call now I’m here, I…”

“Can this wait until tomorrow?” Sarah questioned.

“Of course, we’ll be by tomorrow morning to talk.” The taller one smiled as he gave you his card.

The hours went by at an excruciatingly slow pace, you were unable to sleep despite the plush hotel bed you couldn’t sleep. You’d called into work asking if you could come in for a few hours to work, getting your mind off what had happened may help but when the chief of surgery said no after what you’d been through tonight you needed some time off you almost cried.

As promised the agents were knocking on your suite door at 10am introducing themselves as Sam and Dean before asking questions about your parent's death and your life with your aunt.

The hours ticked by in which you’d learnt a lot more about your aunt’s death, she’d died from blood loss, she’d been bitten multiple times, Steve had too however his throat had been ripped out causing his death.

“Doctor Y/L/N, we believe you’re in danger, we’d like to issue a protective detail for you.”

“What so cops outside my hotel room?”

“A little closer than that, one of us would stay here with you.”

“Oh.”

“Is that okay?”

“Sure, if there’s someone after my family … well me, but please stop calling me Doctor Y/L/N and Miss Y/L/N.”

“Of course so just Y/N?”

“Yes.”

The more time went by the worse you got, you needed to do something, needed to work. Pacing up and down the suite in your police donated sweatshirt and pants.

“Dean, how did my parents die?” You stopped in front of him, looking down at him sitting on the sofa.

“Erm…”

“Please.”

“Like your aunt did, bitten and drained of blood.”

“Is it the same killer?”

“We believe so.”

“So this guy must be pretty old right?”

“We don’t know.”

“Can I go back to work? Even if you come with me?”

“No.”

“Dean I have patients, people are sick.”

“I know, but you can’t sorry.”

“Fucking asshole.” You groaned, looking up at him you realised how it sounded. “Not you the killer.”

“You don’t seem that upset over your aunt's death.”

“She hated me, it wasn’t so bad recently but I lived with her to make sure she stayed on track and safe.”

“In what way?”

“I was as she put it ‘dumped’ on her as a baby, she was twenty-four, I understand she was so young but she could have put me in care, instead she just ignored my existence, I read a lot I guess I have to thank her in a way for my career.” You spoke walking towards the bed and throwing yourself down on it, looking up you saw Dean walking towards you.

“So you’re basically Matilda?” He asked perching on the bed beside you.

“Yeah, I guess I was.”

You spent hours talking to Dean about how you grew up, Dean told you about his childhood too, a lot of similarities appeared between how you both grew up, leaning against the headboard with an FBI agent next to you.

At some point you’d unintentionally decided on taking a nap, upon waking up you rolled over into the warmth of the body beside you, settling into the warmth you groaned when the sheet was pulled from your body. Opening your eyes you screamed when someone grabbed your ankles and pulled you off the bed.

Focusing on your attacker you tried as hard as you could to get him off you but he was so strong, too strong. His mouth opened to reveal his teeth which were quickly replaced by fangs.

Screaming for Dean’s help you squirmed and kicked under the weight.

“Get off her you bloodsucking bastard.” Dean snarled from behind you, looking up you saw Dean being held back by 2 men.

“She’s going to be a nice snack.” He smirked at Dean before returning his gaze to you, his head hovering over yours. Slamming your head upwards you watched your attacked stumble backwards, Dean used the distraction and overpowered both men holding him back. Sam burst into the room producing a machete from his duffel bag.

The man launched at you again but Sam was over you, with one swoop he’d been beheaded your attacker. Opening your mouth to scream you were stopped by Sam’s hand over your mouth, silencing you.

“You need to be quiet.” Sam ordered the machete lay beside you Sam helped you sit up just in time to see Dean behead the two other men. “Y/N, when I remove my hand you won't scream?” Sam clarified.

Shaking your head you glanced at Dean, his previously white shirt now a deep crimson. “Y/N, you’re okay, they weren’t human, you saw his fangs right?”

Nodding you blinked the tears away, you’d faced a lot in your life, you were an orphan, a surgeon, you’d held peoples lives in your hands, pulled people back from the brink of death and yet you had never been as terrified as you were right now. Looking between Sam and Dean you gave up, the past few hours catching up with you, the tears fell thick and fast as you furiously tried to wipe them away.

“We have a lot to talk about, we’ll tell you everything but we need to do a lot too.”

Ask any hunter and they’ll most likely tell you that finding out about monsters and what's really out there was the worst day of their life, yet for you somehow it was the best day.

Sure you were nearly killed by a vampire but Sam and Dean saved you.

2 years after your near death experience you were walking towards Bobby’s house 2 days before Christmas, after an 18-hour shift, you noticed all the cars outside Bobby’s yet your heart sunk when you didn’t see the one car you yearned to see.

Walking into Bobby’s you were greeted by a hoard of hunters facing the front door.

“Happy Christmas Y/N!” They all shouted as soon as you stepped into the house.

“Guys?”

“We just thought we should say thank you, most of us have been saved by you more than once and every day you save everyone else, you’re an actual superwoman.” Jody spoke handing you a glass of wine. “Plus we know you love Christmas and we haven’t had a real get together in years.”

“Y/N, you’re the reason my mother is alive.” Josh announced, Sam and Dean had met him a few times on hunts and helped him on occasion. “You convinced the hospital to do the surgery pro bono and give her free treatment, I don’t know how I could ever thank you enough but this is a start.” He handed you a box wrapped in Christmas paper.

“You didn’t have to do any of this guys, but I’m so glad you’re all here, happy and healthy, Merry Christmas!” Raising your glass you smiled when the cheers of ‘merry Christmas’ filled the room.

“Hey Jody, where’s Sam and Dean?”

“They’ll be here soon.”

“Good.” You smiled at her, resting on the doorframe you watched the bustling room, everyone laughing, drinking and having fun.

“You became part of this family the day you fought with the Winchesters.”

“I know.” You smiled at him before taking a sip of wine.

“You okay?”

“Sure am, I just never had this.”

“People or family?”

“Family.”

“Y/N, you’re our family, we don’t love you because you’re a surgeon, we love you for you.”

“Babe?” Dean shouted from the kitchen, as soon as you heard his voice you shoved your glass into Bobby’s hand.

“Dean!” You ran at him and launched yourself into his open arms, with a huff he caught you, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“God I’ve missed you.” Kissed you.

“Me too.”

“The Winchesters are here it’s now officially a family party,” Garth announced raising a glass.

“My first family party.” You smiled up at Dean.

“It sure as hell won’t be your last.”

Tags - 

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[i-may-have-a-point]

Review of 14x07 “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story”

The Mirage.  That was the name of the roller coaster.  When I saw that in the promotional photos that were released, I was hopeful that our characters would be seeing people from their past, in reality, illusion, or hallucination.  What we got was not quite what I hoped.  Either way, episode 300 brought with it memories of some of the most meaningful people and events we have laughed and cried over in the first 299 episodes.  So, lower your lap bar and sit back while I give you my take on episode 300.  

Meredith – The majority of this episode was devoted to the doctors trying to get Mer to go to the Harper Avery Awards so she could accept her trophy.  It was rather predictable that she would win.  Once the storyline was initially brought up, we all saw this coming.  They wouldn’t nominate both Cristina and Meredith and not give it to either of them. I think they could have built up to this moment better, but hey, Meredith got her Harper Avery, which is the more important thing to the writers.  I was underwhelmed by the whole thing, but I did think Ellis being in the gallery was a nice touch.  Not that she needs it now, but Meredith knows Ellis is proud of her.  

Amelia and Owen – So, are they actually divorced?  Or are they just pretending they are and having sex with other people?  Can we clarify that? Cause I get that the show wants us to believe they are both blissfully happy with each other jumping into whoever’s pants, and call me old-fashioned, but how about we sign those papers and make it official first.  Also, if this tumor story was supposed to be about correcting Amelia’s supposed character flaws (or the season 13 writing to be more accurate), then why is she exactly the same person?  Besides seeming a little happier and fine with Owen’s escapades, I see no differences. If anyone else does, feel free to point them out.  

Ben and Miranda – This is some petty, petty drama right here.  However, since they are insisting on Ben changing careers for the third time, I think Miranda is reacting appropriately.  She should be questioning if she can rely on him for anything because he certainly doesn’t seem like he knows what he wants.  

Arizona – I have no idea where this Sofia storyline is going, but I loved Arizona thinking about what Mark would say if he were there.  And the family photo on the wall was just the right amount of nostalgia to make me audibly sigh.  

Deluca and Sam – One of the things I think Grey’s has done well in the past is create such intense build up to a relationship that the audience cannot wait for the two characters to get together.  I wish they had done that here.  I think they should have kept the vague banter about their past and left out the on-call room hook ups.  It is so obvious where these two are headed that it took the intrigue and interest out of it for me.  I think they look great together physically, and if they want to go at it in every room of the hospital, by all means.  However, I didn’t get reeled in by their story the way it was told in this episode.

George, Cristina, and Izzie – I may be in the minority here, but I would have preferred flashbacks rather than look-alikes.  The casting of the Izzie look-alike was spot-on, though.  In some angles, she did look eerily like Katherine Heigl.  And one of my favorite Easter eggs was Alex picking her up because no matter how many times I watch Alex lift Izzie off of Denny’s bed, I still “clutch my pearls” as Jason George likes to say.

Jolex – One thing I think the show did well in this episode was to have Jo completely fine with Alex being flustered by the Izzie look-alike. The Jolex fans and Izzex fans are both very passionate and both very sure that their couple is the better couple.  I think the show did a nice job of remembering Izzie and respecting both relationships.  The scene where Alex describes the vision he has of Izzie’s life was long-overdue and executed perfectly.  Izzie is happy, surrounded by children, muffins, and Christmas decorations.  That is enough closure for me.

Japril -  I get A LOT of messages asking me to speculate or predict where Japril’s story is headed.  I, like you, have no idea, but I can tell you based on what I see on screen, I think it is far from over.  

Let’s look back at what we have seen so far this season.

In my 14x01/14x02 review I said that while April telling Jackson she needed to move out ripped our hearts to shreds, this was the first time, maybe ever, that we have seen April make a decision with her best interests above everyone else’s.  She has been through multiple deep traumas, and she hasn’t fully dealt with any of them.  For once, she is taking care of herself.  

In my 1403 review I said that I think April’s “complicated journey” this season is to find her happiness and fully deal with everything she has been through.  This episode, in a way, walked the audience and April back through many of her traumas.  They brought up several of the major things April has dealt with over the years for a reason.  They are reminding us what she has been through and what she still needs to deal with. We got the Nicole Herman mention, the Matthew flash-mob mention, and clear signs that April is not happy.  Because “No matter how many vows you make, you still end up in a new apartment and don’t see your kid half the time.”  (Side note:  That picture is Matthew.  I know some people don’t want it to be him, but it is.)

14x04 brought us Harper Avery calling April Jackson’s wife and telling him divorcing her made him like his father.  

14x06 is April revisiting the 13x07 storyline and perusing Tinder, insisting that she doesn’t want to date anyone in the hospital.  

In 14x07, we had every reason to scoff at the screen when the Cristina lookalike says, “You’re not Meredith Grey.”  This idea that April is less than any of the other surgeons has been tired since season eight.  The hypocrisy and overreaction to April being Interim Chief of Surgery in season 13 is one of the many reasons that season ranks at the bottom of my list, but I think that the idea was revisited again because it fits into the story of April analyzing her choices and whether or not she is truly happy.  During surgery, April explains to Meredith, “You’re like Jackson.  He grew up with so much money that he never had to balance a budget or check a price tag, and he just takes it all for granted…you take for granted that there is just going to be another one.  Some of us work really hard, and we’re just average.”  There is so much to unpack in these lines.  We finally get some of April’s thoughts on Jackson’s shopping spree, and April also tells the audience that she is still not completely confident in her own abilities as a surgeon and probably in other areas of her life as well.  April knows that Jackson’s behavior is out of the ordinary, but she is more focused on her own flaws.  I think she is really feeling her part in the problems in their relationship, but she still believes that her and Jackson belong together.  She just isn’t sure if he does.  She thinks he “…takes for granted there is just going to be another one.” This scene is not the show saying April is average.  Meredith’s line, “And Kepner you’re not average,” along with Glasses saying, “They were superheroes.  Both of them,” was the writers’ way of giving well-deserved credit to April.  The important thing here is how April reacted to those lines.  Watch her face when Meredith tells her she isn’t average.  She looks down and away as if annoyed that Meredith is patronizing her, and Glasses gets told to stop talking.  She doesn’t want to hear these compliments because she doesn’t believe them. I think getting to that point is part of her journey.

And those Japril looks. They are small, but they are there. And intentional.  Jackson and April cannot be in the same room with each other without their chemistry overflowing.

None of this sounds like a couple who is over.  To me, it sounds like a story that is just beginning.  

So, where ARE they going? Well, we know that we have Japril scenes coming up, but we also know we have Jackson and Maggie scenes coming up as well as Matthew returning.  I don’t know what is in store for us, but I still fully believe that even with some bumps in the road, Japril is endgame.  

[robbinsarizonas]

Home Again

In the week I got an awesome prompt from @soccerplusgirl who said ‘Could you write Amelia going to new york to find the best neurosurgeon to remove her tumour. she drops in to see her mom and they make up. I wanty this so badly. I need Amelia to make up with her mom’ and I loved it so much so thankyou for that. I wrote this almost straight away, and then just kept forgetting to post it xD So here it is, finally :)

New York. She had never thought she would be back. She had no reason to come back. Her family had basically disowned her, and her work was in Seattle. She had memories of New York, of course she did, they weren’t all bad, but she had never imagined herself coming back.

Now, she was standing in the middle of the airport with her suitcase sitting up on it’s little wheels, ready to be pulled along whenever Amelia decided to move from the spot she had planted herself in. She knew the way, that wasn’t the problem. Fear, fear was the problem. Going out of the airport would mean facing things more than she had had to before. Going out of the airport would mean this wasn’t going away, this was happening.

There was a neurosurgeon in New York. A pretty good one. Of course, he wasn’t as good as she was, but she couldn’t operate on herself, and this guy seemed like the next best thing. She wasn’t confident, she wasn’t confident at all. She had never met the guy, only talked with him on the phone to great struggle on her end. She wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to pull if off, but at least this way she had a chance. A proper chance. More of a chance then she had when she had been locked up in that room all day, every day, looking at scans and going out of her mind.

She pulled on the handle of her suitcase and it started to roll along behind her as she walked towards the airport exit.

Outside looked just as she remembered it. It looked like New York. It /smelt/ like New York. It was busy and crowded and if you didn’t keep up you could get knocked down. Amelia pulled her suitcase over a bump in the sidewalk and walked along with it for a few moments before stopping to hail a cab.

She wasn’t entirely sure where she was going. She had booked a hotel room, but she didn’t feel like going there. Not yet, not now. Words had come out of her mouth before she had even had a chance to think, and before she knew it they were on the move.

It took a little while to get to their destination, but when they arrived Amelia paid the cab driver and lugged her suitcase out of the back, dropping it down onto the hard ground below.

There was a long row of town houses directly in front of her, the street being the same on both sides. Some of them looked pretty shabby, but it wasn’t a bad area. There were trees lining the edges of the sidewalk, and a little green grass for purely decorative purposes. Amelia looked up at the house that sat directly in front of her, towering over her like it was much bigger than it actually was. She pulled on the handle of her suitcase and bumped it up the curb, stopping at the edge of the stairs to lift it up. She pushed in the doorbell, and waited to see if anyone was going to answer. She wouldn’t have been surprised at no answer. She wouldn’t have even been surprised if the not answering had been deliberate upon seeing Amelia through the window. There was an answer though. It took a few moments, but there was an answer.

“Mom…” Amelia said as soon as her mother answered the door.

“Amelia? What are you… doing here?” Carolyn asked. It wasn’t like this had ever happened before. Her daughter didn’t even call these days, she hadn’t heard from her since she had been invited to some wedding that she didn’t attend.

“Can I come in?” Amelia asked, her voice no longer like the confident adult she had grown to be, more like the 5 year old girl who couldn’t sleep at night because she had seen her father shot right in front of her.

Carolyn moved out of he doorway so her daughter could come in.

“I told you it wouldn’t work out, you never think before you do things Amelia.” Carolyn said, assuming Amelia was here because her ‘marriage’ had fallen apart. “It’s one impulsive decision after another.” Carolyn sighed. She wasn’t gonna deny her daughter a roof over her head and food, but that didn’t mean she agreed with her actions.

“That’s not..” Amelia didn’t feel like she had the energy to fight with her mother. She hadn’t come here to fight. She wasn’t even sure why she had. “That’s not what happened.”

“Then why are you here?” Carolyn asked. “As much as I want to say it’s nice to have you here whatever the circumstances…” She couldn’t quite bring herself to actually say that, because Amelia was known to bring trouble with her.

“I’m sick.” Amelia blurted before her mother had even finish what she was saying. “I’m sick.” She repeated a few seconds later.

“You’re what?” Carolyn said, since she could swear she had just heard the words 'I’m sick’ come out of her daughter’s mouth.

“I have a tumor…” Amelia said. Saying the words hadn’t got any easier, even though by this point she had said it so much she didn’t even need to think it anymore. “A brain tumor…” She clarified. “It’s huge, it’s uh, 10 centimetres, it’s in my left frontal lobe…” She swallowed, she wasn’t sure if it would ever get any easier.

“Oh god…” Carolyn said, sinking down into a chair. “Is it operable?” She asked, fearing the worst.

“That’s why I’m here… There’s a doctor who thinks he can take it out….” Amelia explained, letting go of the handle of her suitcase and just letting it sit.

“He just thinks he can take it out? He doesn’t know?” Carolyn said, instantly going into 'protective mother mode’ which was slightly strange for Amelia, because she hadn’t seen her mother like this in quite some time.

“There’s a chance. I wanted a chance.” Amelia said, wanting to just collapse into her mother’s arms and be held for a good long while.

“Okay well I’m coming with you. I’m your mother, I’m coming with you. I want to see this surgeon and make sure he knows what he’s doing.” Carolyn commanded, showing she meant business.

“You know you don’t have to.” Amelia said, not wanting to seem like she was forcing her. “I’m an adult, I can handle things for myself.” She wasn’t pushing, she wasn’t snapping, not this time, but she was making sure it was clear, even if it wasn’t entirely true.

“I’m coming, that’s the end of that. When is the appointment?” Carolyn asked.

“Tomorrow, 10am.” Amelia said, the date and time had been etched into her brain since it had been arranged over the phone.

“Right. Make yourself comfortable, I’ll make dinner. You can sleep in your old bedroom, there’s still a bed in there.” Carolyn said, walking off in the direction of the kitchen as she spoke.

“I actually booked a hotel, I didn’t even mean to come here.” Amelia said, she hadn’t meant to come here and she really hadn’t meant to stay.

“Nonsense.” Carolyn said. “There’s no way you’re staying in a hotel.” She added, shouting from the kitchen down the other end of the house.

Amelia felt calmer than she had in days. She felt like she could finally breathe again. The world wasn’t spinning so fast and so out of control. She could stand still, and feel okay. She took a deep breath and leant back into the couch cushions, closing her eyes. Maybe things were actually going to be okay.

[nocteverbascio]

lintz - what i left behind (1-3/?)

Pairing: Sydney Katz/Maggie Lin Summary: AU. Post S3, when Sydney leaves, she leaves for good. Without realizing it, Maggie feels like something is missing in her life. The story where Sydney leaves breadcrumbs for Maggie to follow but Maggie doesn’t realize it. A/N: talk to me about this ship, it’s my first time writing for it and i wanted to do something different for it because 1) i didnt want maggie to start over moving to london, 2) i wanted to highlight more of sydney’s ambition/accolades, and 3) distance alone was more than enough. besides, who doesn’t love a good slow burn?

ao3 link

i.

Maggie Lin was now Dr. Maggie Lin. For real.

And it felt like she was on top of the world.

Then she wasn’t.

Things changed suddenly and quickly. Joel is dead. Alex is on maternity leave. Rian is gone. Zach is so different she doesn’t know who he is anymore.

More importantly, she didn’t know who she was anymore. She thought things would change after she became a doctor. That opportunities would open up for her. She was a goddamn doctor, so why does it feel like something’s missing?

And she can’t seem to forget Sydney.

Not long after Alex goes on maternity leave, Sydney is suddenly packing her bags too.

“I’m leaving for a study in Cleveland for a couple of months,” Sydney cuts to the chase. Maggie doesn’t get to ask when Sydney goes through a few patients that she wants Maggie to look after while she’s gone.

She doesn’t even get to say goodbye. It doesn’t seem like Sydney really wanted her to either because the next day she’s gone without another word.

Maggie tries not to think about Sydney like she’s the reason she feels off balance and empty. She just feels like there could be more that she could be doing that wasn’t at Hope Zion. Maybe.

“Dr. Katz highly recommended you.”

Maggie fights the urge to smile too much because after about 6 months of radio silence with the exception of referrals of Sydney’s patients to her via Dawn, something about Sydney thinking of her just warms her heart. It makes her feel like she could do anything.

She asks for the day to think about it. There’s a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that Hope Zion is her home though and Cleveland, as well as, hundreds of other opportunities would always be there.

“Flowers? Don’t you usually receive them?” Alex asks as she sits across from Maggie.

Maggie sits up in her seat and closes her laptop. She bites her lip as she drums her fingers contemplatively on the cover. “Just wondering if I should get them as a thank you,” she vaguely responds.

“Thank you for?”

Maggie shrugs, trying not to make it a thing. “Just a recommendation that’s all.”

“The out of town position you were mentioning?” Alex connects the dots.

Luckily, Maggie doesn’t have to answer when her pager goes off. “I think it was just a random thing, it’s nothing,” she says as she reads her pager. “I’ll talk to you later.” She leaves the room quickly, grabbing her lab coat on the way out.

In the end, she doesn’t send Sydney the flowers to thank her. Sydney didn’t even let Maggie know the job offer was coming her way. Nor does she let her know when she’s coming back. Because she doesn’t and Maggie finds out from the staff OB who keeps throwing cases at her like it was her job to take care of them.

Maggie takes them in stride. She’ll get her moment at Hope Zion soon. She’s sure of it.

ii.

Maggie is taking a nap in the on call room when she hears the door open. She doesn’t move because if someone needed her she’d get a page. She’s been at the hospital for almost 2 days now because the ER has been giving her some opportunities to scrub in.

There’s a light shuffle towards her and it falls quiet.

If there’s one thing Maggie hates is being drawn from her nap for no reason. She opens her eyes slowly and sits up. “What?” she croaks out as she rubs her eyes.

Alex stops at the little light near the desk like a deer in headlights. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” she says softly.

“It’s fine,” Maggie says because it’s Alex. She loves Alex. She crosses her legs on the bed and rolls her neck. “Did you need something?”

Alex purses her lips before holding out an envelope to Maggie. “This came in the mail for you,” she says.

“Sorry,” Maggie immediately says as she takes the envelope. “I forwarded all the mail to my new address months ago.”

Alex shrugs. “It’s okay. I feel like we haven’t seen each other in so long.”

Maggie smiles in agreement. “I know right? It’s just been busy.” She glances down at the envelope in her hand in confusion. ACOG? She opens it up as she continues speaking to Alex. “We haven’t been able to get a drink and we are definitely due for one.”

“Or twenty,” Alex jokes, curiously glancing at the letter. “So….ACOG?”

“Yeah, I’m confused too?” Maggie pulls out the contents to read. “It’s an information packet to the annual conference in San Diego.”

“I hear it’s rainy this time of year,” Alex casually says.

Maggie shakes her head, trying to recall if she’d ever sign up for information. “I don’t remember signing up to go actually. I’ve been so busy.”

Alex shrugs. “Maybe it’s a sign. You did specialize in OB.”

Maggie pushes the contents back in the envelope. “I did but it’s not like many cases have been coming my way. I feel more like Zach right now than anything else.”

“The conference might be good for you to make connections,” Alex suggests.

Maggie is about to respond when her pager goes off. So much for a long nap. “Yeah, maybe,” she offhandedly says as she shoves her feet into her shoes and throws the letter haphazardly into her locker before grabbing her white coat. “I’ll think about it.”

She ends up thinking about it. ACOG would be a great opportunity for her to make connections and learn new things. She feels a bit out of touch with her specialty and she knows she shouldn’t feel that way. But it just doesn’t seem like enough.

Nothing ever seems like enough.

Maggie ends up working her ass off to make some extra money. A weekend in San Diego doesn’t sound so bad when all she has is work. At least she can get some con ed credits for going.

iii.

When she gets to the convention center, she sees lanyards on lanyards along with white coats everywhere. It feels like a hospital but at the same time, she’s never felt more at ease being somewhere. Maggie feels her heart swell being in a place where there were people like her.

“Hi, Maggie Lin,” she states.

The girl at the registration desk looks young. There’s still a bright shine to her eyes as she looks up at Maggie. “Dr. Lin, nice to meet you!” she says as she taps at her computer, assumingly looking for her name.

Maggie feels her heart swell. It never gets old being called doctor.

Another woman comes by with a clipboard, fiery red hair standing tall and elegant. Maggie stops staring at the young girl gathering her conference material to stare at the woman. She unconsciously bites her lip because there’s regality to the way she strides towards them.

“Everything okay here?” she asks, her lanyard falling forward. Dr. Addison Montgomery. It’s the Dr. Addison Montgomery.

“Yep,” Maggie dumbly answers even though the question is directed at the young girl behind the registration table.

“Yep! Just giving Dr. Lin her conference material,” the girl answers politely. “Enjoy the conference.”

Dr. Montgomery turns to Maggie. And Maggie swears she’s never met the woman before but the redhead stares at her as she slips the lanyard over her head. “You’re Dr. Maggie Lin.”

Maggie stares in confusion because she knows only one other redhead and that’s Sydney. This is far from Sydney. And by far, she means tall and famous. “I am she,” she responds. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

Addison laughs as she takes a step aside and Maggie follows, trying to keep the line going. “Canadian doctor from Hope Zion right?”

“Yes?” Maggie starts. “I’m sorry, we haven’t met have we?” She feels like such a broken record before one of the most famous neonatal surgeons in America.

“I’m Addison, I work in a private practice,” she answers holding out her hand for Maggie to shake. “I know your mentor.”

Maggie is half tempted to ask if it’s Jason Kalfas but she’s sure she’s not being asked about him. “Syd?” she unconsciously clarifies.

“Yes, Dr. Sydney Katz,” Addison reaffirms. “She was just here not too long ago.” Maggie feels her heart skip a beat at the mention of Sydney.

“Here as in…”

“She was in the area doing research at UCSD and I needed a consult.”

“Oh,” Maggie tries not to sound disappointed. “How is she?”

Addison gives Maggie a confused look. “She’s great. I mean she’s a very...professional.” Maggie smiles fondly at this.

“That she is.”

“But she was really helpful, brilliant doctor at her age. She mentioned you a couple of times.”

Maggie tilts her head, remembering that this isn’t the first time Sydney’s done that. Except that time, it was to her fiancee at the time, which was extremely awkward.

“All good things,” Addison adds quickly. “She says you’re a very talented doctor.”

Maggie laughs to herself. “I’m sure she’s just being nice. The OB front at Hope Zion hasn’t been very fortuitous recently.”

Addison pats Maggie on the shoulder with familiarity. “Well, I’m sure that’ll change after the conference. If you ever want to stop by my practice this weekend, let me know. I’ll be happy to have you.”

“Wow, thank you,” Maggie says quickly. “I really appreciate that, I’d love the opportunity to see how a private practice runs.”

Addison smiles brightly like she knows something. “Dr. Katz mentioned you were enthusiastic about learning new things.” Maggie blushes. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a card. “Here’s my card, just give me a call whenever you’re free.” She glances at her watch. “Sorry, I have to help the keynote set up. I’ll see you around.”

Maggie looks at the card in her hand. Dr. Addison Montgomery. Then it occurs to her. “Addison?”

Addison turns around.

“Is Syd--Dr. Katz here?” Maggie asks quickly.

Addison shakes her head. “She said she had another opportunity on the East Coast. Boston, I think.”

“Oh,” Maggie feels her heart drop. Sydney would be in Boston, probably Mass General or something highly ranked. It’s so her. “Thank you. I will see you around.” She waves the card. At least there’s something good that came out of the conference and it hasn’t even started yet. She didn’t come to the conference because of Sydney. But it felt like something to know Sydney still talks about her.