#so i guess it's more work done than just that
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Everything's so damn dark when the blindfold slips off that for a second she can't see a thing.
Don't panic. Don't scream. Don't hurt the baby.
Something groans at her feet and she startles straight into the pipe behind her head.
"'lo?" A voice asks, familiar enough to give her pause, and she wonders for a moment if this is a joke, if this is a trick, if this - "s'there?"
His words are slurred. A concussion, maybe, then. Great. Biggest man she knows and he's gonna be a useless pile of puke to her.
Don't panic, Maddie reminds herself, and then she starts giggling.
"Tommy?"
He groans an affirmative.
"Oh good. I feel a lot better about getting overpowered, now."
A hand grabs for her ankle and Maddie bites back a scream. It's Tommy's hand, big and warm and - fully unbound, which feels a little unfair. "Cunt drugged me," he says, then pauses. Squeezes her ankle. "Sorry for the language."
"No, it's, uh - I think it's warranted this time."
Maddie can't remember exactly how it'd happened to her. Had she been hit? Is she injured? She does a mental tally. Her lip feels swollen. Nose and eyes feel fine, though, so maybe she bit it? Neck, shoulders, all good. She's been bending her elbows and wrists just fine, she just doesn't have the leverage to do anything about the zip ties keeping her affixed to the probably pipe behind her. Hips, legs, knees. She wiggles her toes and in the darkness Tommy chuckles. "Everything accounted for?"
He must have done his own check while she was working through hers. She can hear him rustling around. "I'm still incredibly mad at you, but it's nice to hear your voice," she says, and Tommy goes still. "Tommy? All good?"
"...why are you mad at me?"
"Like you don't know?" Oh. Actually maybe she is more mad than she is glad. "You broke my brother's heart, idiot. I don't have any more room in my entire house for the coping mechanism he's come up with." She kicks, a little. Tommy grunts and shifts. "I hope that hit something painful and non-essential to our escape."
"He's - he'll be fine."
"What exactly is your definition of fine? Because it's been a few months and he's still bringing me baked goods on a bi-weekly basis."
"Bi-weekly like -."
"Do not get pedantic on me, Kinard. Two times a week. What's your status? Moving parts all still moving?"
"I think my balls have taken a vacation, but that's more a reflection on how terrifying you are than on this current situation."
Flippant. Sarcasm in the face of Maddie trying to get a full picture. Buck had called him funny and charming. Maddie's second kick doesn't land, but only because he's got a hand wrapped around her foot. "Once we're out of here, I'm gonna punch you in the face."
He hums. "For the balls comment, or the cunt thing?"
Maddie shrugs. Remembers that he can't see it. "Which part of 'broke my brother's heart' are you not getting?"
He sounds like he's moving gingerly. She can hear heavy bulky fabric rustle and she wonders if he's in three layers like usual. She could use something warm. "I - figured he'd be over it by now."
Maddie snorts. If she had to make a guess, Tommy glowers at the noise. "Dumbass."
And then it hits her. "The cunt? Skinny, brunette, pretty? Kind of...angular face?"
Tommy hums and takes her weight as she tries to kick again. "Sounds like her."
"Oh, Buck's gonna be pissed and embarrassed. She's rebound attempt number two."
Tommy's silent long enough that Maddie has to check in. He hums, and goes back to silence. "Rebound attempt?"
"If you hadn't noticed, we've actually been kidnapped, so maybe I can save your relationship afterwards?"
"I think she was trying to kill me," Tommy admits. "Otherwise why am I unbound in this shitty Saw knockoff?"
Maddie feels some extra pieces dropping into place. Oh, Buck is never gonna live this down actually.
"Can you overpower her if she comes in?"
"If she's not quick to try to drug me again. If I can figure out where the fucking door is. If -."
"A yes or no is fine. Pretty sure she's the Bay Butcher, if that helps you answer."
His pause is long. "...maybe," he says, and accepts the kick this time without block or protest.
#bucktommy#bucktommy fic#tevan fic#kind of#maddie & tommy#lol apparently abduction fic is my new muse
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Hi, you said "no I don't know him"/"he's my dad" and dealt me immediate psychic damage please say more words that hopefully make this better
(spoiler alert: nothing can erase the inherent tragedy of this)
the ask/prompt was about Dick and Bruce not acknowledging each other in the League, right? so kind of playing with this identity porn idea of Batman and Nightwing both being separate vigilantes working with the League with no outward, immediately obvious, or self-professed connection between them other than both being from Gotham (which might not even be something they reveal, for OpSec reasons).
Why would they choose to do this? Maybe Bruce wants to eliminate any connections between them to make it even harder to guess their secret identities. Having two pieces of the puzzle always makes it easier to solve than if you only have one.
Maybe Dick wants to be his own vigilante, separate from Batman's influence, and stand on his own with the League. Maybe he wants to put space between him and Robin, and asks Bruce not to fully acknowledge him outside of Gotham.
Maybe it's a mix of both? Or maybe it just never truly comes up, and both of them are too smart and well-trained as a default to give anything away in front of the League. Maybe the League knows that they know each other, that they've worked together before, but nothing more than that.
And what even ties Nightwing to Batman, really? Funding, the suit, the relationship to Robin, but none of those are immediately apparent. Gotham is a common denominator, but there are multiple vigilantes in most major US cities and Nightwing largely operates in Bludhaven. Training/fighting style? Also hard to identify without being in the know. Essentially, if they don't say anything to the League, how much can the average person even infer, much less notice?
So those two lines stuck out to me. In response to a well-meaning or confused League member asking if Dick knows Batman, he really only has two possible responses: "No, I don't know him" or the truth.
That there is a connection between them, and it's actually damn near sacred. He was, is, Batman's partner. He knows Bruce like almost no one else does. They're spoken about in the same breath. Or they were, once upon a time. They have mirrored beginnings, twin motivations. They fallback on each other, even when they're fighting bitterly. Dick is still who Alfred calls, when Bruce is in a self-destructive rut. And vice versa.
But what would prompt Dick to break that code of silence? I guess it depends on why it exists. And so for that second response -- "That's my dad" -- I was thinking of a situation where it was because of Dick's need to be separate from Batman. And Bruce obliges the secrecy, because it's logical and also Dick asked. But one day Bruce is injured on a mission, or hurting somehow, and the League is panicked trying to figure out what to do and Dick is right there. Batman's partner is a foot away and nobody knows. And Dick suddenly has to make a decision that is, in that instant, more easy than anything he's ever done.
"That's my dad."
#sorry this got rambly#dick grayson#nightwing#batman#dc#dc comics#fanfiction#bruce wayne#asks#batfamily#I know there are fics about this reveal but usually it's humorous#my brain usually just goes for the angst these days#justice league#jl#“what do you even know about batman i thought you hated him”#dick: trying hard not to scream and cry and explode because you did NOT JUST SAY THAT TO HIM
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How Stray Kids react to you telling them playfully "I'd trade you for a lifetime supply of chocolates"
A/N : Picture credit goes to the owner.
• You're enjoying a quiet and lazy day off with the Stray Kids member of your choice, happily munching on a chocolate bar and he's silently working next to you . That is until you tell them in a mock serious tone "You know, I'd totally and happily trade you for a lifetime supply of chocolates".
Chris
• He blinks at you in confusion but then pretends to be so hurt.
• "You'd trade me ? Just for some cocoa beans ? Do you know how much effort I put into this relationship ? Are my late night calls, texts, cuddles, kisses not enough for you that you'd trade them for some chocolates ? My worth is so less in front of chocolates".
• And you giggle at his reaction and say "I'm just joking Channie" while messing up his hair a little.
• "I'll let it slide this time but I'll bring you chocolate next time to show you I am irreplaceable", he pouts.
Minho
• He raises an eyebrow at your statement as if to say "yeah like you could live without me".
• "Just so you know, your priorities are all wrong. A chocolate bar won't dance with you or cook for you or even kiss you. Choose wisely dummy".
• And you laugh at his response and he's like "don't even try to explain yourself, I'll be watching you the next time you eat a chocolate and it's going to be a problem if you enjoy it more than you enjoy being with me", he smirks and rolls his eyes.
Changbin
• He can't help but laugh at your weird out-of-the-blue statement.
• "I work out every single day, write love songs for you and even share my food with you and you're telling me I can easily be replaced by some cocoa products ? Wow I have been replaced huh by some mere KitKat. Great great", he says, pretending to be hurt.
• He later holds up a chocolate bar and asks you playfully, "so who's it gonna be, this chocolate or me ?", with an amused smile.
Hyunjin
• Hyunjin, being his dramatic self, would clutch his chest in mock hurt.
• "You'd trade ME for some chocolates ? That too HAPPILY ? Wow I guess I was wrong huh. I thought I was your number one, your soulmate, your one true love but I've been demoted to second place by a mere Ferrero Rocher. Wow just wow, I have no words".
• You'd poke his cheek "aww Jinnie ever the dramatic I love you, buuuut I love chocolate a liiiiitle but more", you say playfully.
• "Maybe I'm dramatic but you brought this on yourself".
• He'd later get you an entire Ferrero Rocher box and will say "Chocolates will never love you the way I do, my love,but here you go".
Han
• He looks up from his laptop and gasps loudly. "Are you serious ? Chocolates really ? That's all it'd take ? I thought I meant more to you than some bar of chocolate".
• You giggle at his response and squish his squirrel-like cute cheeks and tell him that you're just messing with him.
• "No no it's not done. I thought I was special to you but no it's your caramel chocolate that gets your love. I was just writing this love song for you, sitting beside you and getting inspired, but no, wait I'll change it into a diss track for you and your chocolates. It will be on our next album".
Felix
• He had been drafting an email to one of his endorsement offers and at your statement he looks up at you with innocent eyes, momentarily confused, and then pretends to be hurt.
• "What ? I bake you yummy brownies, I bring you snacks and I cuddle with you, but you're saying I'm secondary just because I don't come in a fancy wrapper ?"
• And you smile "innocently" at him and he's like "ok i forgive you this time only because you're cute and that wouldn't actually trade me for chocolate right ?", he asks, pulling you into a hug, setting his laptop aside.
• "Who knows Lixie, who knows ?", you wink.
Seungmin
• He looks up at you with a deadpan expression as he was folding his freshly washed laundry.
• "Chocolate ? That's all ? I guess I'll see myself out then".
• And you're like "I'm joking Minnie" and he raises an eyebrow.
• "No, no. Don’t backtrack now. You’ve made your choice. Enjoy your life with your chocolates while I’m off being amazing somewhere else."
• He later hands you a white chocolate bar and is like "Don't tell me I don't fulfill your wishes, doll".
Jeongin
• He looks up at you, both eyebrows raised, " what did you say ?"
• "You heard me Innie", you smirk.
• "You'd trade me for some chocolates ? Wow, do you hear yourself right now ? Are you out of your mind ? Chocolates ? I thought I was your special person but you've replaced me with a box of Dairy Milk ? Wow Y/N wow, unbelievable. I am so offended right now", he says as he pretend to sulk and shakes his head as you pulling him into a playful hug.
• He later hides your favourite chocolate and when you ask him about it he responds casually, "no more chocolates for you until you admit I'm better", giving you a cheeky grin.
A/ N : Hope you liked it. Do like, comment, reblog and follow if you did. Meanwhile you can find the rest of my masterlist here.
#stray kids#stray kids texts#stray kids scenarios#stray kids imagines#stray kids x reader#bang chan scenarios#bang chan x reader#yang jeongin scenarios#yang jeongin x reader#lee know scenarios#lee know x reader#kim seungmin x reader#kim seungmin scenarios#seo changbin scenarios#seo changbin x reader#lee felix scenarios#lee felix x reader#hwang hyunjin scenarios#hwang hyunjin x reader#han jisung scenarios#han jisung x reader#kpop imagines#kpop#kpop scenarios#bang chan fluff#bang chan smut#hwang hyunjin fluff#stray kids gifs#hwang hyunjin smut#kpop x reader
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Buck could fill a small bakery with the amount he's baked in the past few weeks. He cleaned out the flour shelf at his local corner market, used a coop's worth of eggs, pushed his mixer to the limit, and had his oven working near constantly. Every neighbor on his floor and everyone he's passed in the lobby has had a loaf of some kind left on their doorstep or politely shoved into their hands. Everyone at the station is begging him not to overload them on anymore sugar - they'll take the carb-loaded meals he makes at work but avoid Buck the moment he enters the bay doors with a basket of saran-wrapped sweet bakes.
The worst part is that it's not even working anymore. It never really distracted him enough to not want to call Tommy, just put his hands and head to use for an hour or two at a time so that he couldn't text or call.
But now there's nothing left to bake with. And Eddie is looking at houses in El Paso. And everyone has family to go home to, except for Buck. And every reason he has for not being the one to reach out first goes out the window.
After a few rings, Tommy answers with a questioning: "-Buck?" and it's a gutpunch he doesn't need today but he's already feeling like shit so the pain just gets absorbed into the rest of it.
"H-hey, Tommy." It feels good to say his name under- well, not better circumstances than addressing his broken heart, but something with a bit of tentative hope at least.
And it's good to hear his voice. The voicemails and audio notes and videos from their time together have soothed him and tormented him at different times, but hearing Tommy respond sends a pang of longing through him.
"Um. I-I, uh."
"Are you okay?"
A bitter sound trips its way out of Buck's mouth. "No. No, I-I'm not okay."
"Are you hurt?"
The urgency in Tommy's voice thrills him; he still cares. But Buck doesn't want to misrepresent himself, doesn't want to trick Tommy into caring about what he's going through.
"Guess that depends."
"On what?"
"What kinda hurt you mean."
There's an inhale across the line. "What can I do?"
Tears prick at the corners of Buck's eyes. "I just- need someone to talk to." He doesn't say: even though we're not together anymore, can we still be friends? because even though he's missed Tommy being in his life, he doesn't know if he could be just friends.
"Okay." Buck hears some rustling in the background, footsteps, background noise receding. "I'm here. Talk to me."
Tommy wants to hear what Buck has to say, he always did. So Buck talks. He tells Tommy about Eddie moving away, and Tommy listens. And when it gets too much he tells Tommy about a new niece or nephew of his on the way, and Tommy offers his sincere congratulations. And then he tells Tommy about his baking coping mechanism and Tommy quiets.
So much so that Buck checks to see if the call dropped.
"I'm on my fifth engine," Tommy admit. "I keep taking them apart and putting them back together until they work better than before. But everytime I was done I had to start again, fix another broken thing, because I couldn't fix.."
Buck takes an unsteady breath. Us. "Me."
"No," Tommy says emphatically. "I couldn't fix me. Too broken to be good enough for you."
It's a heartwrenching confession, but Buck feels a smile beneath the tears sneaking down his face. "You don't think I'm broken? Nobody stays for me, Tommy. At some point I gotta realize I'm just not someone people wanna stick around for in the long run."
"Evan.."
Buck breezes over the sound of his name in Tommy's mouth, can't dwell on how good it feels because it won't last. "Guess neither of us are forever guys, huh." His heart, bruised and battered, bleeds a little more. The tears stream freely now. He sniffles, but manages to steady his voice as he says: "I loved you. That was real."
Tommy's breath hitches. "I was a coward."
Buck nods. Cries some more. They're both fucked up.
Tommy hesitates, but then: "I'm off-shift soon. We could.."
He leaves it hanging. There's so many ways Buck could finish that sentence, most of them unbearably hopeful. He doesn't want to stay in his empty apartment anymore. "Yours?" His voice is a little wet. "Maybe I could help you with that engine."
Tommy's breath of amusement is a balm to Buck's aching heart. "You know something about vintage cars I don't?" It's teasing, and gentle, and Buck has missed this.
"Maybe. Maybe trying to do it alone is the problem."
Another breath of laughter, followed by resignation in Tommy's voice. "Yeah. Maybe you're right."
Buck listens to him breathe for a moment: in, out, in..
"I'll meet you at mine."
Buck's poor heart beats a little stronger.
*
It was more than an hour later, of battling crosstown traffic and then letting himself into Tommy's house because Tommy had explicitly told him to use the spare key. They never gotten to the point of swapping keys. That probably should've been a step they didn't skip over. Buck's too-long legs had skipped too many for Tommy's comfort.
He pushes all thoughts of that aside. He's not perfect, he's too much, but Tommy agreed to see him. Tommy wants.. he's not sure.
Buck stands in the little living room, surveying Tommy's space while his mind spirals, heart yoyo-ing between hope and hopelessness. He doesn't know how much time passes when the front door opens and Tommy appears in the entryway.
He looks good. Tired, if the dark circles under his eyes are anything to go by, but good. His hair is a little longer all over, and it suits him. Buck wants to tell him as much but he can't seem to say anything.
Then Tommy says, "Hey," soft and concerned and fond, a sad smile at the corners of his eyes.
And Buck's tears threaten back into his own. "Hey." His voice is watery and brittle.
Tommy's there in three strides, gathering Buck into his arms, and Buck lets himself be wrapped in an embrace. Winds his arms around Tommy and presses into his solid warmth. Breathes him in as the tears come.
He feels safe. Seen. His heart cradled in care the way his body is cradled in Tommy's arms.
Buck takes a deep, steadying inhale of Tommy's scent and pulls back enough to look him in the face. His hands loose their grip at Tommy's shirt, smoothing to palm him through the cotton.
"About that engine.."
Tommy's smile is wide enough to crinkle his eyes in that way Buck loves, with joy etched in the creases.
"I wanna help you, if you'll let me. We could make it work. Together."
Tommy's eyes glisten. His smile breaks into a grin. "I'd like to try that."
buck probably called tommy every chance he got when they were together. driving home from work and stuck in traffic, it’s time to call tommy and tell him about his shift. late night in bed and he’s struggling to fall asleep without him, tommy’s soft voice will lull him to sleep from the other side of the phone. both on shift and the calls had been particularly slow, he will go and sit on the roof with tommy on loud speaker and they will just talk about anything and everything.
and when buck finds out that eddie is thinking about moving back to texas, tommy is the only person who he wants to talk to about it. so he finally gives in and calls. and of course, tommy will answer.
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vernon prods a finger against your side when you stretch out and groan miserably on the bed beside him. you don’t respond, and he does it again, and again, and again, until you finally open your eyes and scowl at him.
he meets your frown with an innocent smile. “what’s wrong?”
even the question is reminder enough, and you let out another grunt of discontent. “i have to go out later tonight.”
your boyfriend tilts his head to the side. “have to?”
“i don’t know. i agreed last week, but now i’m like, so out of it. i don’t have the energy.”
vernon himself can vouch for that. he saw the look in your eyes when you got home from work, saw the way you dragged your feet and spaced out a little too often.
he doesn’t say any of that, just lifts a hand to your forehead. “oh, no,” he says, incredibly monotone. “you’re burning up.”
you twist to raise your brows at him. “but i feel fine?”
he shrugs, purses his lips. “yeah, no. definitely burning up. feels like you’re incredibly unwell to me.”
it clicks for you then, and the smallest of smiles graces your lips. “oh, you think so?”
vernon nods. “i know so. i don’t think you can even consider going out.”
playing along, you pick up your phone. “oh, shit. better let jinsoul know i’m super ill, i guess.”
his hand trails down from your forehead to pinch your nose, and then he stretches the arm over your waist, tugging you closer. “i guess so.” there’s a pause, as you both shift, his nose finding its usual spot, buried in your neck. “or,” he begins, muffled against your skin, “if it’s jinsoul, you could just let her know. that you’re not up to it today. she’d get it.”
you sigh. “yeah. yeah, you’re right, she would.” and you type out an explanatory message to your best friend as vernon traces light, swirling patterns on the exposed skin of your stomach from your rucked-up t-shirt.
when it’s done, you cast your phone to the side, both of you snickering a little when you accidentally fling it a little too far and it sails on to the floor.
“better?” vernon asks quietly, still tracing his fingers over your warm skin. “now that you don’t have to go?”
you hum. “a little. just one of those days, you know? feel like i hate everybody in the world.”
you hear his smile more than you see it. “oh? everybody?”
“yeah, everybody,” you confirm, but you’re smiling again, hiding it in his t-shirt. “everybody except one.”
an / another one already. WHO IS SHE!!
perm taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @glowunderthemoon @wondering-out-loud
@tokitosun @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin @icyminghao
@smilehui @nicholasluvbot @lvlystars @immabecreepin @hanniehaee
@kokoiinuts @astrozuya @doublasting @yepimthatonequirkyteenager
@qaramu @weird-bookworm @phenomenalgirl9 @lightnjng
@strnsvt @onlyyjeonghan @athanasiasakura
@iamawkwardandshy
@twilghtkoo @yuuyeonie @lllucere @pearlesscentt
@sourkimchi @porridgesblog @ourkivee
#vernon fluff#vernon x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen x reader#vernon fic#vernon scenarios#seventeen imagines#seventeen fic
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Inspired by the Bad End of the game.
Something small. Angst time. (and venting I guess. depression rocks lol)
The sound of the clock ticking that hung on the wall always sounded loudest in these moments.
He hated it, but Sol endured it. Since he had no choice after all.
He silently waited in his seat for the woman sitting across from him to finish looking through his book...His book full of drawings, sketches, of what he made this week.
She hummed lowly, closely looking at one of the drawings. "I see you drew them again...Quite the memory you have to have picked up all their details, Mr. Brugmansia."
Sol didn't respond to that...He was used to hearing this by now. How many times has these sessions happened? He lost count...
"The rest however...You still can't let that day go, I see...The more you cling to that day. The less likelihood we can make progress on your healing to be released, you know?"
Now Sol let out a low chuckle, it sounded forced, and exhausted.
"You know I'm never getting out of here, doctor..." He spoke with a look that said it all...He was tired, drained...but not because of these sessions, these repeated days.
No...He was tired of living these days without them...
Without you...
"...Then I guess there's no point in this session then. I can skip straight to filling out the paper work for your medica--"
"NO! Please...Just...Can you not do it...This once? Please? I...I rarely can feel not numb anymore since coming here. It's...You don't understand how horrible it feels...To feel like a zombie...A stranger in your own body...It's like..."
"I completely understand, Mr. Brugmansia. That only means the medication is working. It's for your own good. You don't want a repeat of what happened last time, after all...Right?"
Sol looked down at his lap, his hands clenched into fists as he remembered. It wasn't his fault those bastards said that stuff about you. They deserved it...Deserved having their heads bashed in...and put into comas. It was all for you.
The woman opened his sketchbook again, and flipped through a few pages until stopping on one.
"May I ask why you drew him in color this time?" She showed the page...Which had Crowe in it...Usually he'll be colored in black and white or in red...for blood.
"...I had my reasons..."
"Speak then."
"You wouldn't understand."
"Try me." She leaned back in her seat, getting her pen and clipboard ready, prepared to write and take down notes.
Sol sighed and then spoke. "...The night the medication wore off earlier than usual...I had a dream again...A vivid one...I saw them again, but they were...They looked and felt so real. I didn't want to wake up...Not be away from them again..." He smiled at the memory, then paused, his smile fading. "Though they asked me of something. I hated it...I hated the request, but for them...I did it. It was for them..."
"Mhm...By "them", you mean Y/n correct?" Sol nodded lightly. Hearing their name spoken made his heart ache.
"...They said they love the way I bring color and life through my art...That's why I draw them a lot...To--"
"To bring them back to life." She felt pity for the man before him, but not enough. Especially after knowing what he done.
"They wanted to see...Ichabod...with life again...Even after I took it, they asked of me to bring it back, bring him back." He gave a smile, desperation in his eyes as he looked at her. "THAT HAS TO MEAN SOMETHING, RIGHT?! THAT MEANS THEY STILL LOVE ME AND TRUST ME! THEY'RE WATCHING ME! WAITING FOR ME! MY PUMPKIN! MY SOULMATE LOVES ME! EVEN AFTER WHAT HAPPENED, THEY UNDERSTOOD, AND KNEW I DID IT FOR THEM! FOR US!! THEY LOVE ME!!"
It'll be a lie to say she wasn't startled by his outburst, especially with the crazed look in his eyes, but worked to remain calm in her seat. Until he looked to calm himself with a lovestruck smile over his own delusion of what he thought that dream meant. Over believing you actually spoke to him...and met him again.
"...Of course you did, Solivan...Of course." She wrote down a few more things, then clicked her pen shut. "Our session is over now. Please, do eat your food tonight, Mr. Brugmansia. As well, get plenty of rest."
After Sol left the room, with cuffed hands and escorted out by some men, like always. Luckily with no fight this time like the other times.
The woman sighed and rubbed her eyes in frustration. "He's not showing signs of improvement...His delusions truly have a tight hold on him...A change of medication might be best...or a higher dosage..."
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Don’t You Want Me (Baby?) Pt 3
———
Steve and Eddie are either hooking up or dating - and are about as bad at keeping a secret as they are dealing with their feelings. (Dustin POV)
1 / 2 / 3
———
“I’ll be there in thirty!” Dustin said. He slammed the phone down and dashed to his room to round up his notes.
“Bye mom love you gotta go!” He shouted as he hustled out the door and jumped on his bike. Dustin had just made it out of the suburbs and into town when he spotted a familiar Maroon Beemer in the lot by the Quickie Mart.
Steve was standing beside his car in a fluorescent windbreaker, leaning on the open driver’s side door. He was staring at the bouquet of flowers in his hands like his nose was about to start bleeding.
Dustin slowed.
….He could probably spare a few minutes to see what the hell that was about.
Really, it’s been a while since Dustin made peace with the fact his curiosity would almost invariably get the best of him.
“Hey Steve!” Dustin hollared, dinging his bike bell a few times.
Steve startled, comically jerking to attention. As a thoroughbred jock, Steve could be ever so slightly air-headed at times. But that usually didn’t extend to a total lack of situational awareness.
Steve waved at Dustin as he approached.
“Why are you angry at those flowers?”
“What? I’m not - “ Steve cut himself off with a sigh. He shot the flowers another grimace. “I’m just trying to decide if I’m being a total idiot right now…”
Ah, Dustin realized. Must have pissed off Robin.
“What happened?”
“I fucked up, I think. And flowers, that’s my go-to right? That’s the move. But…” he tapped above his temple with the side of his fist - as if to dislodge the stupid. He rested it there for a second. “I can’t help but think I’m becoming totally neurotic.” He said, vaguely concerned.
“Girls like flowers.” Dustin offered a simple shrug.
“Yeah, girls do.” Steve agreed. Then sighed again, shaking his head distantly.
Jesus, he must be gone bad.
And Dustin likes Robin. More importantly, he liked her for Steve, they were a perfect match. But most importantly of all - if Steve fucks this up, Dustin spends the next who knows how long listening to him complain about his endless strings of unfulfilling dates.
“And red roses? Can’t get more romantic than that, right?” He said, trying to sound encouraging.
“You don’t think they’re… I don’t know. Lame? Christ, what the hell am I even - I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing here.” Steve groaned, sounding totally defeated. He dragged a hand through his hair, displacing his artfully styled do. And too distracted to even notice? Dustin was very nearly starting to get worried. “Never mind forget it. Just, forget I said anything…”
“Who even is this guy? Your Steve.” Dustin scoffed. “Legendary lady killer of Hawkins High. Remember? You’re great at this.”
““Yeah, that’s different though. I guess... I don’t know.”
“Different how?” Dustin demanded.
“How about because this is important. That’s how!” He said.
“Ok? That’s a good thing, Steve.” Dustin said, which even to his own ears sounded just a little bit demeaning. Maybe he did need to work on his tone…
“Is it? The last time I really thought there might be something there, it was Nancy. So of course, I manage to fuck the whole thing up. Because that’s my thing I guess.” He deflated. Then quietly, as though speaking to himself, he said. “Things were going so good too… I just had to start a stupid - “
He finally looked back up at Dustin. He closed his mouth and the far away look cleared. He shook his head, like was done thinking about it right now. Or at least done talking about it because he said,
“Henderson, what are you doing running around this early anyways?”
“Pft, what are you doing running around this early? You and Eddie. I’m surprised you’re not sleeping off your… illicit activities.”
Steve made a face. “No. Don’t call it that. I - we… called it an early night last night.”
“Figures. I’m headed to Eddie’s right now.”
“Ah...” He muttered to himself. He looked down at the flowers again and his shoulders wilted. Then he chucked them into the the passenger seat.
“Woah, man, careful with those.” Dustin scolded him.
“No, it’s fine. Look, I gotta go pick up Robin soon. We have a shift together later. See you around, man.”
Dustin frowned. Why were adults so goddamn weird? Is Dustin gonna start acting like this in a few years.
“Good luck.” Dustin offered, tilting his head optimistically. Steve just waved him off, still very obviously distracted.
“Yeah, I’ll figure something out.”
Dustin watched him climb into his car. Steve would figure it out. Dustin had faith in that, at least. He could have a thick skull, but give him enough time and eventually he got it together.
Steve drove off and Dustin started pedaling again, in the opposite direction, towards the Forest Hills trailer park.
Dustin was at the trailer almost till dinner time, fine tuning what will soon be the very first one shot, nay the very first D&D session Dustin will ever orchestrate. He can’t help violently oscillating between excited and nauseous, but Eddie’s advice genuinely did provide a solid foundation to work with.
Eddie even assured Dustin he’d act just as shocked as the rest of the party, gasping during the big moments. Stuff like that - even though he knew pretty much every story beat he had planned just from helping Dustin sort it all together.
They were just packing up to leave when the phone rang.
“Shit. Give me a sec. That’s probably Wayne.”
“He’s not at work?”
“A buddie’s house. He got the weekend off.” Eddie said, picking up the receiver.
“Munson’s Mortuary Services. You got the purse, we got the hearse. Are we picking up or dropping off, cause - ” Eddie cut out mid bit. He grimaced, looking back at Dustin. “I - uh, hey. Look this really isn’t a good - “
Dustin was only really half ease dropping as he tried to order his session notes correctly. Eddie was talking quietly for the first time in his life, holding the receiving close to his mouth, which was making it kind of difficult.
“No, it’s fine… I’m serious, it’s fine. Yeah, I’m sorry too…. Well, I was being an asshole. Look this really isn’t a good time…” Eddie glanced back over his shoulder at Dustin. Dustin tried to look busy. “Just, don’t worry about it, seriously…. Yeah. Sure, talk to you later, ok?” Eddie started to move the phone away before bringing it back to his ear.
“This week? I’m not sure… Maybe. I’ve just - I got a lot of stuff going on… I’ll call you… Yeah, bye.”
Eddie hung up, hand lingering on the phone for a long moment.
“Who was that?” Dustin asked, so casually it was probably immediately suspicious.
“Funny how you think I won’t make you walk home.” Eddie said, a bone dry threat. That roughly translated to, it was definitely totally my secret girlfriend. “Pack your shit, dude. I’m calling Wayne so you better be ready to go by the time I’m done.”
It seemed like Eddie took it to heart what Dustin said about them never hanging out anymore. That week, Eddie really seemed to be making an effort to start making time for him again.
And the rest of the party of course.
On Monday, Eddie suggested Hellfire (plus Max!) hit the arcade after school. He didn’t give them any quarters, but that was fine, they had enough loose change to have a good time. They’d just need to plan ahead and bring Steve next time.
After school on Tuesday, Dustin called to see if Eddie wanted to keep working on the one shot. Which he couldn’t cause Corroded Coffin had band practice.
So instead, he invited Dustin tag along. It came with the strict stipulation he kept his mouth shut, his ass glued to the couch, and he not try to touch anything, on pain of a swift and merciless death. But Dustin’s come to understand Eddie’s threats have a lot more to do with his penchant for dramatics than any honest hostility.
Eddie was just heading out the door when Dustin called so he said he’d come grab him from his place on the way to Jeff’s.
Dustin thought for a moment about changing out of his pun-derful shirt but ended up scrapping the idea for time.
He kind of regretted it when Eddie rolled up. Music loud and looking, as always, too cool for school. Summer was still fading, so he was wearing a loose, faded Cult shirt with the sleeves cut off. He had more tattoos than Dustin realized (all of them ugly.). There was a red flannel tied round his waist and he was wearing a thin leather bracelet.
Dustin couldn’t pull off a leather bracelet in a million billion years probably.
“Little mans sitting in on practice tonight.” Eddie announced as they walked into Jared’s garage. He got a scatter of hey’s and what’s up’s.
Dutifully, Dustin belined it for the couch. He sat next to the plastic Halloween skeleton that was already sitting there posed to watch (Dustin was introduced to him as Manny).
Eddie seemed to switch into DM mode, someone had to keep the boys focused and on track.
Dustin sat still and didn’t touch anything, which was easy enough.
But come on, their music was way too awesome for a passive listening experience.
Gareth, Jared, and Jeff seemed to appreciate his enthusiasm. Still, Dustin made sure to keep distractions to a minimum. A reasonable minimum, at least.
“God, you guys are just so - “ Dustin rambled. It had gotten dark outside and they were started to pack up their gear.
“Metal?” Eddie said, winding up his guitar chord with a smile.
“Metal as hell.” Dustin agreed, standing and walking over.
“We’ll make a public menace outta you yet.” Eddie said proudly.
“You can always bring the kid around more during practice.” Jeff said to Eddie. The rest of the band nodded around and shrugged.
“Actually having a live audience every once in a while couldn’t hurt.” Gareth said, nodding his head at Manny. Him and Jeff were dragging his drum kit back into the corner of the room.
“Yeah?” Dustin asked, grinning.
“Maybe you’ll pick up a thing or two.” Eddie grinned back, shoving at him a bit and fucking up Dustin’s hair.
“You’d teach me?” Dustin asked, swatting him away. Eddie shrugged easily.
“Oh man. That’d be so cool!” He said. “Maybe next time I could bring some of the other guys? Oh, and Steve could come too!”
Jared practically choked on his instant laughter.
“The King?” He said sarcastically. “Yeah, sure - you wanna bring King Steve here, to sit on the ratty couch in my garage and listen to us thrash around and scream for a few hours?”
“I dunno, could be pretty entertaining.” Gareth elbowed Jeff, nodding down towards Eddie. He was on his knees, focusing intently on tucking his Warlock away in its hardcase. Gareth leaned in closer and whispered. “He’s getting a little too cocky with those guitar solos, don’t you think? Could use a chance to play under pressure.”
“Oh, that does sound entertaining.” Jeff snickered, just as amused by the prospect.
“Can it.” Eddie said, without looking up.
“Eddie?” Dustin insisted, looking to his DM for backup. They were talking like Steve was gonna march in here and just start heckling. Or throwing tomatoes at them or something.
“Sorry kid, they’re right. He’d probably hate it.” Eddie shrugged.
“Come on, it’ll be cool! I could at least ask? You don’t know he’ll hate it.”
“Yeah, I’m sure Steve Harrington would think our heavy metal band is so totally cool.” Jared said flatly, as he leaned over to grab the handle on his bass amp.
“Hey. I saw a Metallica tape in his car the other day!” Dustin said to Jared. Jared’s eyebrows climbed, surprised. Maybe even a little impressed, though clearly too stubborn to admit it.
Dustin turned back to Eddie. He was still expecting him to come to Steve’s defense. But he stayed quiet, barely a part of the conversation. “Come on, I thought you two were friends now.” He accused.
“Sure, Harrington’s fine.” Eddie shrugged.
“Yeah he is.” Jeff muttered under his breath. Gareth puffed up with a badly contained laugh.
Eddie rolled his eyes.
“Right, you blow us all off to go to go smoke weed with him at the drive through, but he’s just fine.”
Jared, who had been bending over to put his amp against the wall, froze in place.
“No fucking way.” Gareth’s head shot up, his eyes blown wide. But it didn’t sound like he was pissed at Eddie for crossing party lines. Not with the massive, disbelieving grin on his face. “You and Harrington? You fucking took him to a drive through?”
“What movie was it?” Jeff shot out, equally delighted.
“Was it a scary movie?” Gareth said. They both scrambled out from behind the drum set, their task wholly forgotten.
“Guys.” Eddie huffed. “Fine. Yeah, ok, we went to go see a movie - So what?”
“And you just, what!? Forgot to mention it?”
“Sure!” Eddie grimaced. He shrugged defensively. “We just - caught a movie. It���s not a big deal.”
Gareth barked out a laugh. Like that, that right there, is the funniest thing Eddie’s ever said.
“Guys.” Jared looked at Jeff and Gareth pointedly, before glancing at Dustin.
“Sorry it’s just…” Jeff paused with his mouth open, incredulous. “Didn’t know you guys hang out now.” He finished. “Ya know, outside the whole - coparenting.”
“We don’t.” Eddie said, tensely.
Dustin frowned as he watched the guys continue to stow their shit. Gareth and Jeff went back to sorting out the drums. “Not a big - “ Gareth scoffed under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief.
The rest of the boys were struggling to contain shiteating grins and Eddie was just pretending not to notice.
Dustin had never known these guys to be such… jerks. Why would it be such a big deal if Eddie and Steve were friends?
Could it really be all because they’re just so - different? The idea of hard rocker Eddie kicking back with a jock even once was just patently absurd? Ridiculous enough they jump straight to teasing him for it?
Dustin’s frown deepened. For a bunch of freaks, that all seemed pretty judgmental.
These guys would come around on Steve. Seems like Dustin would just have to make sure of it.
On Thursday Eddie agreed to pick him up from school.
He was late of course, so Will, Mike, Lucas, and Max had all started towards home by then.
When he did roll into the parking lot, it was in a sweeping wave of orchestral heavy metal.
“Pick it up.” He said impatiently, as Dustin opened the door. Eddie evil eyed the school building while he turned down the music. “Don’t like being here any longer than I need to be outside D&D hours.”
Dustin hopped in. He had a VHS copy of Jaws in his hands. He had left it behind at Lucas’ like two weeks ago and promptly forgot about it. A week later Lucas brought it to school and Dustin had only just re-unearthed it from his locker today. It was daunting just thinking of the fees that were sure to be stacking up by now.
His only salvation was Steve. Who’s thankfully working today.
“I need to drop this off at the movie store and before you say no - “
“Sure.” Eddie said, already starting the van.
“I - that was easy.” Dustin sat back and relaxed against the seat.
Eddie kept his eyes on the road and shrugged.
“I was thinking about renting something anyways.”
They drove straight to Family Video. The door dinged as they walked in.
Robin was sitting behind the counter. Still focused on her crossword she said, “Hi, welcome to Family Video, can I help you find - Oh, hey guys.”
“Hi Robin!” Dustin said, walking up to the counter.
Eddie lingered by the displays. He traced a finger over one of the tapes on the shelf. “Harrington, here?” Eddie asked, inspecting the cover.
Robin rolled her eyes but she was smiling. “You just missed him. It was seriously slow today and he won rock/paper/scissors so - he clocked out early for the day.” Eddie hummed and put his hands in his jean pockets.
Dustin handed Robin his VHS tape.
“This is eight days late.” She frowned at the computer.
“So - “ Dustin said, thinking fast to distract her from errant thoughts of late fees. “how’d you like the flowers?”
“Flowers?” Robin scrunched up her nose at him.
“The flowers Steve got you?” Dustin blurted out before he clamped his mouth shut again. She squinted at him. Suspicious.
“What are you on about?”
Shit. Steve hadn’t got those for Robin had he?
“Nevermind.” Mayday-mayday. Pull up!
Hopefully Steve wasn’t too pissed at Dustin for letting that little detail slip. And Dustin could barely feel bad for blowing Steve’s cover because, what the hell Steve?
Robin’s lip twisted. She looked down her nose at him, regarding him uncharitably. He forced a smile as she stared him down for a moment longer. Then her face cleared. Raising her eyebrows innocently she turned back to the monitor.
“So about that fee. That’ll be five fourty-“
“Ok! I - “ Dustin hesitated. Sorry Steve - that was five dollars he really did not have. “I don’t know. I ran into him a few days ago. And he’d just bought a big thing of roses.” Dustin caved, shrugging and holding his palms up defensively.
“Ooooh.” Robin’s eyes crinkled with a warm smile and her gaze slid somewhere behind Dustin shoulder. Then quickly snapped back into place.
“Oh.” Robin said again. She looked baffled, like the implications of that just hit her and clearly didn’t sit with her right.
“Maybe they were for his mom? His parents are in town aren’t they.” Dustin offered.
“You know what? Yeah, that’s probably it.” Robin nodded vigorously. The poor, love struck girl just immediately latching onto the explanation.
“Nah.” Dustin turned around to look at Eddie. He was still feigning intense interest in that copy of An American Werewolf in London. “His mom is allergic to roses.”
“That doesn’t mean he - ” Robin scrambled. “Maybe he just… forgot, or something. I mean, you know Steve. Total ditz.”
He shrugged. “That’s fine isn’t it?”
“Yeah. I mean, yeah.” Robin said cautiously. She seemed confused more than anything.
Eddie said cooly, hands still in his pockets. A perfectly neutral smile on his face. “Steve’s a free agent, right? He’s free to play the field.”
Jeez, did Eddie have to be so blunt? What ever happened to letting a girl down easy?
“Uh…” Robin said, looking between the two of them uncomfortably. Like maybe she didn’t quite know the answer to that anymore but it was also something she really didn’t want to sort out in public.
Dustin honestly felt a little bit bad for her. Sure they both always say they’re not dating, but clearly she seemed none too thrilled at the idea of Steve going around giving another girl flowers.
Dustin had hoped with the way Steve was talking the other day, he had finally got his head out of his ass and was ready to go public and make them official.
“Hey, man, I’ll meet you in the car, yeah?”
“Sure.” Dustin said.
“Eddie - “ Robin said. Eddie looked over his shoulder, lingering half way out the door. Robin glanced at Dustin. “Uh. Bye.” She finished lamely.
He smiled at her. She didn’t smile back.
Robin went back to the computer. She worked in complete silence. Suddenly the thick clack of the keyboard and the low murmur of the movie on the screen in the corner were way louder. Her brow was set like it gets when she’s stuck on a troublesome crossword.
“Sorry.” Dustin said, his face twisting up with guilt.
Robin glanced side long at him.
“I can talk to him you know.” He said.
“Huh?”
“I can talk to Steve. He shouldn’t do that to you.”
“Jesus, for the last time. We - are not - dating.” Robin said through gritted teeth. She made a frustrated noise. “Do you have to be so… ergh, meddlesome.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” He lied, taking a step back.
“You need to stay out of your friends love lives.”
Yeah well, how about Dustin stops meddling when his friends stop being so dumb about everything. Till then they’ll just have Dustin to thank for sorting out their messes.
Tag List : @reading-archieves @homoerotictangerine @bingbongsupremacy @aroseandherthorns-blog1 @wheneverfeasible @travelingtwentysomething @ineffable-monster-romancer @laughingphantoms @gregre369 @rawrx3ky-txt @thespaceantwhowrites @blcksh33p1987
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@samsoble @depressed-freak13
#steddie#Steve Harrington#Eddie Munson#steddie ficlet#stranger things#dustin henderson#god I love Dustin. what a troublesome bastard#just bamboozled it all up huh?#also just like for clarity. No i Do Not think Steve is dumb#unfortunately Dustin’s fatal flaw he much learn to overcome in this story is#much like Odysseus before him#hubris. so he thinks literally everyone is a little bit dumb it’s called characterization look it up sweaty#also pls accept my humble offering of Personal Corroded Coffin Group Dynamic Headcanon#because I’m friend w a bunch of boys Eddie’s age and whenever I read stories w/ CC they’re not loud enough#and like. of course. of course their gonna tease Eddie about his dumb hate crush on Steve he’s had since literally forever#my headcanon is Steve was regularly brought up by the CC boys because it was the ONE THINGs#like since waaay before Eddie started hanging around the party#and it’s only gotten 10000009% worse since him and Steve started coparenting#god they’re so annoying#and I love them so much 😭
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Oh, no PROBLEM, life happens, and I'm just glad you're doing better!
And it's never too late to pick fun things back up. I had to dig around for the notes i made for the next bit of this, and then re-read it over, because it HAS been a year! XD
SO, okay, a part 7!
YES, I am SO GLAD the way Frodo is NOT having a great or easy time came across! I’d hoped that would work! It can be hard, when your body changes and suddenly you’re not capable of the same stuff you were. I was trying to convey that kind of dysphoria.
Maedhros! Maedhros is HAVING A DAY. A good day! A MIRACULOUSLY GOOD DAY.
The kind of good day he can barely trust is REAL bc, lbr, he hasn’t really had a good day innnn. Um. Lets just say a long time. So this is the kind of day that has him covertly running mental checks just to make sure this is still reality. He keeps counting Maglor’s freckles and running his finger tips over his horse and her tack, and the tooling on his belt and faulds just to check that the things he’s seeing, and sensations he feels match up right.
He can at least throw himself into logistics a bit here, first in chivying all the escaped thralls our Intrepid (and exhausted) Heroes have been herding to safety in Himring.
Then he corrals Celegorm and Curufin. (This ended up mostly dialogue!)
Maedhros: *stares pointedly*
C&C: Err.
Maedhros: *calm and measured* I have heard what you’ve been up to in Nargothrond, brothers. Rest assured, I WILL be taking that out of your hides later. For now though *points at the crowd of people filling the hall behind them* Exactly WHAT happened to do THAT?
Curufin: Honestly we don’t KNOW, Nelyo!
Celegorm: When we caught up to them, Finrod, Beren, Luthien, Huan, Tyelpe and that Annatar ner were already gone off to Angband, leaving Finrod’s steward and Frodo to hold the camp.
Maedhros: *blinks* Frodo? Who? And what kind of a name is that? (Note: Frodo is WESTRON it’s gotta sound SO WEIRD to the elves tbh. He’s definitely gonna get slapped with a proper elven name at some point here. Elves gotta give people extra names after all especially in the first age)
C&C: *baffled kind of shrugs*
Curufin: *glowers* The boy is SOMEWHERE in the crowd. He’s remarkably cagey for a boy who can’t be more than 80, and I haven’t been able to corner Tyelpe about him yet, but he rather looks REMARKABLY like that Annatar. And Mother. And Grandfather. (Note: Frodo probably doesn’t look quite like a teenager really, but he’s so coltish in his new body, that’s coming across as youth to the elves that see him)
Maedhros blinks at that. Well. He never thought Tyelpe the sort, but, well, Curufin had been a bit smothering since they’d come to Beleriand. He’s thought Tyelpe was weathering it with more grace and patience than was usually found in their line, but maybe he’d just decided to go around his father? He wouldn’t be the first in the family for that. (Note: yesss Mae, make some logical conclusions with the info you have! Compare him to you and Finno a bit! You’re VERY wrong but it’s still a good guess!)
Celegorm: He’s got one of Tyelpe’s hairclips. One of the ones father made.
Maedhros: *eyebrows* Interesting. But, at this moment, irrelevant. We can sort that out later. What else can you tell me?
Celegorm: A few hours after we got there, the whole ground heaved like a shaken table cloth. Then some hours after that, Tyelpe and everyone came out of the night leading that lot *waves a hand a the hall* Tyelpe had the silmarils.
Curufin: There wasn’t really TIME to stop and ask questions. We regrouped and lit out for Himring. Luthien is TERRIFYING by the way. She provided the bulk of the power, her and that Annatar. We pitched in too but them, us, Finrod, and Tyelpe have been cycling songs of power for- *blinks* How long has it been since Angband shook, Nelyo?
Maedhros: thirteen days and nights.
Curufin: *sputters*
Celegorm: Huh. No wonder I want to sleep for a week. I haven’t done a march like that since I was with The Hunt. *waves* Anyway, we talked to a few of the thralls, and from what few who were in the throne room said, Luthien walked in all lovely and enchanting, and sang with three voices. It put Morgoth out like a fussy toddler. And then the wolves and the orcs, and even the balrogs, everything evil, dropped where they stood as well. The orcs were dead. No one checked the balrogs. Then Luthien’s man climbed the throne and took the crown and passed it down to Tyelpe. Then he and Annatar left and came back with BLASTING powder and lined the place while Morgoth slept.
Maedhros: *wheezing incredulous laugh*
Curufin: Annatar said the dragons were UNDER the throne room Nelyo. All the eggs, all the breeding stock.
Maedhros: *squints* *head tilt* wait. *slow blink* How would he KNOW that? I didn’t know that, and I know Angband as well as any former thrall.
C&C: *exchanged uneasy glances*
Curufin: We’re not sure. Finrod and Tyelpe trust him though. And, there’s Frodo. *vague hand wave* We heard some snatches of conversation, but nothing that makes much sense.
Maedhros: Right. Where’s Maglor? Nevermind, I saw him with Luthien, I’ll get them, and find Finrod. You round up Tyelpe and this Annatar fellow, and bring them up to my study. See if you can find the Frodo lad you mentioned.
Maedhros needs to corral all the important people ASAP and GET SOME ANSWERS.
He’s able to locate Maglor being charming at Luthien and Beren fairly quickly. Whereas Celegorm and Curufin look as if they’ve been on a hard march for days, Luthien, apart from the general grime of travel in the wilds, looks fresh as a daisy in may. Exactly how much power does she HAVE?? Never mind, one thing at a time. She and Beren graciously accept an invitation to a more private area. They’ve eaten and washed a bit, same as the throng of ex-thralls, but it’s VERY crowded. And They want to talk to Tyelpe, Finrod, Frodo, and Annatar too. They know more than Maedhros! But there wasn’t a LOT of time for other questions after establishing that there was some kind of time travel going on!
Tyelpe and Annatar aren’t hard to locate either. They knew this was coming. A quick wash up and food, and maybe a change of clothes, and it’s on to the Next Thing.
Note: oh. Huh. I didn’t think of it before, but I wonder what Annatar and Frodo are WEARING??? Some casual Valinorin clothes? I bet they were NOT dressed for getting dropped in the past! If it was just like, vibes based, maybe some clothes Annatar thinks of as ‘comfy’ rather than anything either of them might have been wearing before they were dropped into the past, since their bodies were created for this unlike Tyelpe or Finrod!
Annatar reluctantly taps on Frodo’s mind, and tells him Maedhros is collecting them.
Frodo, by this point, is not crying anymore, but is the kind of wrung out EXHAUSTED, that only days and days of rough travel and then a fierce crying jag will make you. Finrod almost offers to carry him, but Frodo just sets his mouth and gets up off the stone floor, doggedly putting one foot in front of the other and plodding along next to Finrod, who directs him around the crowd and into the keep proper.
Maedhros was somehow NOT expecting this Frodo child to look as much like family as Curufin and Celegorm insisted, but oh dear, if anything they understated it. He looks VERY much like the elf called Annatar. The hair, the skin, the eyes, but the other features. They were right, and Maedhros can see little echoes of his kin all over him.
He’s also swaying where he stands next to Finrod, with red eyes and tear tracks through the wilderness grime on his face. (Remember, Frodo skipped the wash up and clothes change area. Finrod too. I’m sure once they get through the first awkward conversation, someone will get them each a basin and some clean clothes!)
Maedhros makes eye contact with Finrod and jerks his chin at the soft couch set before the fireplace. Finrod takes the hint, and leads the young ner that is, in all likelihood Maedhros’s grand-nephew over and gently pushes him down on it.
Maedhros turns his attention to Tyelpe, and also Annatar. Tyelpe steps around Maedhros, and slings the crown off his torso and sets it down on Maedhros’s desk where it thuds down with a surprisingly light thump for a thing wrought of iron and misery.
Maedhros: So. Explain. Lady? This seems to have started with you?
Luthien shrugs gracefully, and sets herself down in Maedhros’s towering armchair before the fire and tells her part of the story. It is, thankfully, lacking the canon bits of C&C capturing her and being creepy assholes! Because Tyelpe stole Huan and met up with her before that could happen here!
When she’s finished with her part, with input from Beren, and Finrod, Maedhros turns and raises his eyebrows at his nephew.
Some very speaking looks are exchanged rapidly between Finrod and Tyelpe and Annatar and Frodo.
Finally Tyelpe just shrugs helplessly.
Tyelpe: Uncle, we have NO IDEA. One minute we’re in Fourth Age Tirion, the next I’m in Nargothrond and Finrod is in Sauron’s Tower, and Annatar and Frodo are there too. And Frodo is an elf.
Maedhros. Blinks. And replays that. Nope. Still makes absolutely NO sense.
Maglor: … I’m sorry, what?
Tyelpe: We’ve done this before. It all went SO much worse. Annatar wasn’t there before, though, or Frodo.
Finrod: Well. Annatar sort of was. Why are there two of you now, by the way? That’s. Kind of alarming.
Annatar: When I spoke to the One, and was changed, I was FUNDAMENTALLY changed. To hazard a guess, when this… Event happened, I was too different to integrate with my former self. He is maiar, I am elven. I came to my senses, he’s still following his shining plan.
Frodo: And me?
Annatar: We share something of our spirits on a deep level. And since hobbits have not woken yet, and will not for many many years yet, I imagine this was the only way for you to have a form here and now.
Frodo: *watery chuckle* Oh. Yes I suppose that makes sense.
Please imagine Maedhros and Maglor and C&C ping-ponging back and forth here, COMPLETELY CONFUSED by this conversation. But desperately trying to add up the bits they’re hearing into some kind of coherent narrative. Maedhros is squinting at Annatar with sudden DEEP suspicion.
Maglor: I’m sorry, can we back up a bit here? Fourth Age VALINOR????
Tyelpe: *sighs* *sits down next to Frodo* We all might as well sit down, this is going to take a while.
^__^
HEY.
I had the most interesting dream after falling asleep switching between the latest chapter of The Horrowing and a time travel fix it in another fandom. I thought you might enjoy a brief summary?
Post fic canon Annatar, Finrod, Celebrimbor, and Frodo getting the most hilarious do over of the First Age.
Finrod and Celebrimbor got dropped in their past bodies, bc same souls. Which has Finrod JUST captured by Sauron, before any of his 10 have been munched.
Celebrimbor is of course having a surreal not quite panic attack in Nargothrond.
Annatar, well. Annatar is CHANGED. He is quite literally too different from what he once was for them to qualify as the same soul anymore. Which is gratifying. If inconvenient bc there are now TWO of him, Annatar and full on Sauron. But they're similar enough that Annatar was dropped very close to Sauron.
Frodo is an elf. Dream logic was that hobbits do not exist yet, and his soul has touches of Annatar and Aman. He looks disconcertingly like a mix of Annatar and Celebrimbor, and they are NOT thinking about that right now. Hopefully ever.
Most of the dream centered around all of them doing their best to set aside freak outs, while getting Finrod and his merry band (plus Beren) OUT of Sauron's grasp.
There was a FANTASTIC moment where on the way out, Sauron comes face to face and soul to soul with Annatar and he's just like;
Sauron: *jaw dropped fully horrified face* WHAT are YOU?!?!?
Annatar: *shoving elves behind him, nose in the air* Wouldn't YOU like to know, weather boy. *uses Song to blast him through a wall while he's distracted*
The whole thing featured 10 other elves and Beren as a baffled peanut gallery.
Meanwhile Celebrimbor is weighing the pros and cons of just- drugging his uncles and shoving them in a back room somewhere where he can bolt the door. He thinks he can maybe get Huan to help if he explains?
It was SO much fun.
(hope you have a good day!)
Oh my god. This may be the best ask I've ever gotten, for so many reasons.
The fact that your subconscious was like "Yeah if Frodo's getting a new body it looks like Annatar For Some Reason"
The image of future!Annatar getting into a fight with Sauron in front of Finrod (probably happy about this development) and Beren and the other 10 (INCREDIBLY CONFUSED)
The fact that the dream was partially centered on everybody trying not to panic, which is in fact what the Harrowing is all about for a while
Absolutely incredible.
...I feel so bad for poor Celebrimbor dealing with Nargothrond all by himself while the others are off having adventures. I hope their next stop after the rescue is to swing by and pick him up. Also, I dearly want to know what Annatar has to say to Beren on the subject of his current Luthien-and-Thingol-and-Silmarils situation.
#IT LIVES#the harrowing#time travel AU#fun stuff#my writing#the silmarillion#we return to our intrepid heroes and they're tired and still have to TALK ugh#thats always terrible right?
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Yet again I see people mischaracterizing Jimmy as some jerk who lashes out on people for no reason and berates them for anything minor like where did you get this from did you actually read any dialogues in the game????????
Jimmy really only threw one shade at Daisuke, he didn't think he was spoilt rich kid he just said he was covered by his parents because he had support system unlike all of them grown up adults. Most of times Jimmy just awkwardly slid off silly things Daisuke said, like the ladies comment or when they were mixing the drink. Daisuke actually trusted and listened to Jimmy throughout the game (to his own detriment unfortunately). Jimmy sent him to the vent because he was the captain and he wasn't going to do the dirty job obviously and if the Swansea somehow woke up Jimmy could shift the blame like he had already got away with. Even when eventually things went to shits we don't see him blaming Daisuke because Jimmy recognised that it was his decision to send him there. Jimmy didn't want to fatally injure him, he tried to "fix it later" which didn't help at all and Jimmy felt guilty about it.
Jimmy treated Anya dog shit half the time it's true but not to the extent some people make it to be. He loves control, he has said so to Curly's face, to ours and that's why he made sure to put her down and belittle her. That's why he (potentially repeatedly) sexually assaulted Anya — because rape is form of power play, he didn't even want her sexually. Initially, Jimmy didn't hate Anya, he just didn't like her and the feeling was mutual. He continued to do bare minimum for her, like when checking up on the crew. If I had to guess how Jim viewed her by the end, then he most likely found her inferior, incompetent, always putting work on his shoulders (or responsibilities he didn't want (pregnancy)), together with being paranoid of her having the potential to ruin his life. That's why he got so pissed off when he saw her crying to Swansea, very likely having already told another person of what he has done. (I'm 100% sure he holds the grudge for telling Curly, who then rushed to "fix things", making Curly seem like a responsible captain which Jim hated.)
Jimmy never made any attempts at understanding or sympathising with Swansea. He knew him longer than Daisuke yet the latter understood him better. Jimmy probably thought that Swansea was an old grumpy man who hated everyone and everything. As the game went on Jimmy just considered Swansea to be nothing but a selfish drunkard (due to immediately assuming he was hoarding cryopod to himself). After the vent incident who Jim blames for the absence of medicine? If Swansea wasn't so stubborn (for like, few times) Jimmy wouldn't have need to spend prescious recourses on him. He could have saved Daisuke instead and fix his fuck up but Swansea ruined it twice. Swan doing arguably the right thing by putting out Daisuke out of his misery only solidified his role as a villain and a threat in Jimmy's eyes, that's why probably as a revenge (for not giving him enough time to think) he went for the gun instead of cryopod like Swansea allowed him to.
And finally Curly. Honestly this deserves a separate book on it's own at this point. It's almost 3 a.m. here so I'll only mention some stuff. Jim aggressively lashes out twice on-screen, first time because he literally lost his dream job, listened to Curly "bitching about having said dream job" and couldn't come face to the fact that Curly was "abandoning him while also looking unscratched from the fall of the ladder" while Jimmy will return to his struggle of life (he didn't even know about the pregnancy yet...). Second time was when Anya endangered Jim's new status as a captain and like I mentioned reminded him that she could fuck up his life even more. Feeling like he was losing control, Jimmy beat up poor Curly who was stripped out of said control by non other than Jimmy. Finally, he was violent off screen by destroying Polle, out of frustration, irritation from the thing, and/or hatred and resentment for the company (que "Pony express is dead" line). In one instance he says "He's mocking us" which confirms that it's about Jimmy's ego.
In conclusion STOP MAKING MY SHITTY CHARACTER SHITTY IN THE WRONG WAYS. This isn't even a full blown analysis of Jimmy's character but accumulation of posts I read and conclusions I came with.
Focus on his already preexisting shitty qualities stop making up new ones ffs signing out.
#i'm going to tag this properly too this time fuck it#i should have been sleeping instead of writing this#god i love you jimmy my problematic king#mouthwashing#jimmy mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#anya mouthwashing#swansea mouthwashing#curly mouthwashing#analysis
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Primes Reborn AU spoilers below the cut, if you want to wait until the fanfic is done don't read.
WARNINGS miscarriage scare, violence, a little angst for the soul.
(everything turns out okay don't worry)
Sooooo, after kid number three, Optimus is already getting used to this. Hey, why fight the Matrix when he can work with it?
Besides, it's vindicative to be able to un-do most of Sentinel's damage, after giving the miners cogs that is. His frag up doesn't have to haunt their entire species forever.
Nevermind that the Matrix takes bits and pieces out of him in lieu of transfluid, since, well, the sparklings have to come from somewhere.
If undoing the damage Sentinel did entails energon, sweat and tears every time, so be it.
So he decides to find a spot he feels safe in and build a nest!
His unfortunate ass only feels safe in the cave of the primes though.
No biggie! He just has to make a comfortable spot.
In a cave full of corpses.
Great.
By the time he is finally done he is so wiped out that he falls asleep in the nest immediately.
And then he wakes up to the sound of a fusion canon. Being aimed at his face.
Oh right, Megatron.
So they start to fight, Optimus is always trying to diffuse it and keep his shit together, like, invading a nest is extremely distressing for the carrier. It's not like Megatron knows he is invading a nest, because even he wouldn't go that low goddamnit.
And then Megatron taunts him with something along the lines of;
"Look at yourself, Prime. You have gone soft with time, literally." (I'm still working on what he says, don't be too rude)
And Optimus, the fool that he is, looks down at himself. He really shouldn't have done that because that gives Megatron an opening to hit him.
In the gut.
He immediately falls to the floor in pain. And Megatron goes "I won't have mercy on you because you feel a little pain, Prime"
He can't even finish the sentence though, Optimus interjects with "She isn't moving"
It takes a second for Megatron to realize what he means.
He immediately scrambles to help, however he can. He lifts Optimus up and places him in the nest, and really he can't do much but it's better than doing nothing!
The blow triggered the emergence, and little Solus is born unconscious. This time, the other primes' spirits are mysteriously absent.
When he has her in his arms, Megatron shakes her up a little bit, to see if she wakes up. To which Optimus tells him that it's useless, her body is weak without a sire bond, and that she'll die.
And without thinking, this other fool just.
Opens his spark chamber.
You see, to form a sire bond, the spark of the carrier acts as a bridge between the sparkling and the sire's spark.
Want to guess where this is going?
.
.
.
.
.
That's right! Megatron and Optimus spark bond to save little Solus, you get nothing for guessing correctly <3
They coax her spark chamber open and the three of them bond. After the bond takes, Solus starts crying, and thank Primus she is crying, Megatron doesn't think he could have lived with the guilt if his little one died because of him.
And then Optimus takes her in his arms and Megatron's world expands by five.
They look so, so beautiful. And suddenly everything that's right in the world is in that cave, in the nest that his love made.
Because yes, that's his love now (never stopped being his love) and that's his sparkling. And Primus damn it he is not going to let go of them.
And then he looks at little Solus, and cries a little and says something along the lines of "She's perfect"
And then Optimus hits him with the "You say that because you haven't seen the other three"
Megatron cries a little more.
And the name of the AU is STILL Primes Reborn. :)
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The Price of Gift Giving
There are many things Aventurine can pride himself in. He has no shortage of talents that have gotten him as far as he has. However there are still a few things that he cannot wrap his head around. When it comes to love and showing his affection, Aventurine fumbles more often than not, even with his heightened emotional intelligence.
Now, he isn't sure what exactly he had done this time around, but his beloved Doctor seems to be frustrated with him. So here he is standing in one of the most luxury malls in all of Pier Point trying to pick out the best gift as an apology. He knows Ratio isn't big on material luxuries but as Aventurine eye's a beautiful fountain pen, he can't help but throw his card down. He pays extra to have it engraved with an owl face -the same one that adorns Ratio's shoulder- and a quaint but sweet quote, "For my Beloved Veritas". Aventurine feels confidence flow through his veins as he becomes a couple hundred thousand credits lighter. The pen is packaged nicely, the engraving hidden from view so he can surprise his boyfriend even more.
When he returns home, Aventurine can here Ratio in their shared study grumbling to himself as he no doubt marks another students paper as inadequate. Aventurine braves a smile as he tucks the small gift into his coat pocket and quietly enters the study.
"I'm home~. I see you're still working hard. Do you have time for a short break?"
Ratio sighs, sparing Aventurine a quick glance before his eyes setting back on the stack of papers .
"Unfortunately I'm on a tight deadline. I did mention to you earlier that I'd most likely will be busy all day." Ratio's voice held clear annoyance, but that's fine. Aventurine's smile faulters for only a second.
"Yes I remember you saying that. Sorry, I just don't like seeing you over work yourself."
Ratio only hums in acknowledgement as red ink fills another paper.
If Aventurine just stands here any longer he's sure to be kicked out, so to not waste anymore time he fumbles to get his gift out of his pocket.
"I have something for you." He places the box neatly on the desk, and Ratio pauses to look at it. It's not hard to guess its price, the name of the store was printed clearly on the lid. Aventurine can feel the annoyance radiating off of Ratio as he narrows his eyes at the package.
"Aventurine," said mans smile drops; Ratio never calls him that at home. "While the thought is appreciated, we've talked about your frivolous amount of gifts before. No matter how deep your pockets are, always spending isn't a good lifestyle. Honestly, is drowning me in expensive products the only thing you can do?"
It shouldn't hurt because Ratio is right; they have talked about Aventurine's unhealthy spending habits. Still, he had no issue buying anything that he thought Ratio may like. And that's what made his confidence crumble. His eyes stung and his voice was stuck in his throat. Ratio was looking at him, almost expectantly, but Aventurine couldn't form any words.
Instead he turned around, silently leaving the room. It felt humiliating standing there under his boyfriend's scrutinizing gaze. Maybe he deserved it for being inconsiderate of Ratio's thoughts on luxury goods. That was the only rational conclusion he could come up with.
~*~ When Ratio had finally emerged from the study, it was well into the evening. Aventurine could hear him in the kitchen getting himself his share of dinner Aventurine somehow managed to put together just a hour prior. He had the catcakes to thank for pushing him to get food in him. The last few hours he had just been curled up under a blanket on the couch while the snacks meowed at him sympathetically.
Eventually the noise in the kitchen died down, and was replaced with the couch dipping under Ratio's weight. Aventurine didn't move from his place under the blanket.
"Vasha," a hand fell onto Aventurine's shoulder; and maybe he's just a little too weak because a second later he wrapped himself tightly around his boyfriend. "I would like to apologize, my love. I shouldn't have been so insensitive to your gift."
Aventurine closed his eyes, letting his head fall against Ratio's chest.
"I just wanted to make you happy. I know you've been overworked lately...and I know I can't help with that kind of work. I know I said I'd work on my spending. So I guess I'm sorry too."
Fingers thread through his hair and a kiss is placed on his head.
"Change doesn't happen overnight, and I shouldn't have taken my frustration out on you. You are far more valuable than any gift, Kakavasha."
Ratio shifts and pulls the giftbox from his pocket. It was still unopened, but Ratio swiftly untied the bow around it and removed the lid. He picked up the pen, admiring the pretty swirl of blue and white along its body and it's gold accents. His thumb ran over the engraving and Aventurine feels a smile against his temple.
"It is quite a lovely pen. Thank you, Vasha. I will treasure it always."
~*~ inspired by this twt post~
rtrn is so stupid i love them
#ratiorine#aventurine#dr ratio#aventio#dr ratio x aventurine#do i put this drabble on ao3 or do i just leave it here ahh
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Rating Veilguard companions based on their living spaces:
I'm coming up on the last handful of missions in Veilguard, and I noticed that I hadn't really spent all that much time looking around the rooms of the companions. I pretty much burst in and out, only staying long enough to hear whatever they have to say. So I decided to do a more in depth look. (There will be some moderate spoilers ahead if you haven't worked your way through most of Emmrich's companion quests.)
7. Lucanis
Okay, we've all heard the reasoning behind Lucanis's room of choice, but this "room" is still sad. As awesome as access to the kitchens is, this is just a straight up trauma room. That's without even mentioning the perilous number of candles near the bed of such a haunted (literally) man. But, at least he has somewhere to sleep, unlike some others, and he has plenty of supplies of citrus fruit, so scurvy won't be an issue.
6. Emmrich
I hate to rank this one so low. Not only is Emmrich my romance of choice, but I'm a huge book lover in real life, and I love this aesthetic. But this man doesn't have anywhere to sleep! He's in his 50s and has nowhere to sleep! Much has been said about where he might be sleeping every night. Does he sleep on the corpse slab? Does he sleep in the big red chair? Does he curl up in front of the fire like a hound? If he was 19 maybe those options would be feasible. But I'm in my early thirties in real life, and the idea of spending a night on a hard floor/slab is already unbearable to imagine, and sitting upright all night is only done if I'm so ill I can't do otherwise. No bed is just unforgiveable. Also, he's stuck with the skull and spirit of his former friend/rival seemingly listening in on everything and critiquing him constantly. Imagine just minding your own business and having a skull call you "moldering" while implying you're too old to be with your partner of choice. On the other hand, I envy the shelf space, the spiral staircase, and the gorgeous balcony view.
5. Taash
Maybe Taash likes having a gloomy room, I don't know. But sometimes this room looks like a straight up dungeon. Also, though there is some good functionality for training and such, the room lacks daily functionality due to the sheer amount of stuff everywhere. I get that Taash is a Lord of Fortune and treasure hunting is like their whole thing, but like, does Taash really need multiple huge stacks of silver bars and random sheaths of fabric here in their temporary Fade bedroom? What's the point of having so many tables if none of them have any more room to set things on when you actually need to? Some of these rugs are fantastic though. And Taash is one of only two companions with a real bed, so that counts for a lot.
4. Bellara
This is more workshop than bedroom, which I guess suits Bellara well enough. But there's a couple of issues here. First, there's some pretty spiky tools a little close to her cot. God forbid she has a nightmare and jerks upright out of a deep sleep, she'd get slightly impaled. Also, imagine trying to sleep with the smug face of the Archive looking out at you all the time. And don't forget the room is just full to bursting with mirrors. That seems like a confusing, hazardous, headache inducing horror. There is some cool elven decor though.
3. Neve
Neve has a pretty tiny space compared to some of the others, but I guess it's fitting for a noir style detective. She does have a bed, though it's only a less than stellar cot. She also has a bunch of wisps stealing her stuff all the time. But she has a beautiful view, more privacy than some of the others, and a nice desk, which is essential to a detective. And in the end this room is kind of gorgeous.
2. Harding
This whole place is fabulous. The plants are amazing. The magic butterflies are enchanting. The giant ceiling flower is beautiful. Harding doesn't have a real bed, but she has a canopy and a bedroll, which she's probably pretty comfortable in by now after 10+ years of being a scout. I also like that this room grows and transforms over the course of the story. Personally, I think this is the most aesthetically pleasing of the rooms, and I imagine there's some crickets in there to give you that peaceful summer evening soundtrack.
1.Davrin
Davrin's biggest advantage is the simple fact that he has a private sleeping area with a real bed. No one else has both of those things. On top of that, it's a functional space for he and Assan. It's open and has a nice perch for easy Assan access. It has shelf space for his carvings. He has lots of cool knick knacks. He has lots of natural light and a great view. But after looking more closely at his space I almost dropped him down a spot for one reason. NUGS. Did I miss a dialogue line about his love for nugs? Because there's A LOT of nug memorabilia in this place. There's a taxidermy nug with a face only Leliana could love. There's little nug carvings. There's bigger nug carvings. There's drawings of nug anatomy. I don't know if I'm more freaked out by the idea that Davrin brought them or the idea that Solas left them. Still, he does have a cozy fireplace/chair combo, as long as you don't mind being watched by the empty stares of a thousand lifeless nugs.
#dragon age#dragon age the veilguard#lucanis dellamorte#emmrich volkarin#emmrich x rook#taash#bellara lutare#neve gallus#lace harding#davrin#spoilers#dragon age the veilguard spoilers#video games#rpgs#bioware#why are there so many nugs?
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Heart to Heart | Clay Beresford x Reader
Pairing: clay beresford x f!doctor!reader
Word Count: 16.2k
Summary: after crossing paths and connecting with new york’s most well known businessman, you end up in a whirlwind situation that’ll change your life forever
Warnings: reader is a heart transplant recipient, descriptions of heart transplant procedures and the healing process, mentions of overdosing and death of a mother, mild swearing
Masterlist/Request Form | Ask/Tell/Request
A/N: clay beresford, my angel bb! I was literally so excited when I got this request. I’m so absolutely obsessed with the awake movie and I think hayden did such a good job as clay. I literally need all the content for my little nyc golden retriever lmao! I really like how this turned out and I hope ya’ll do too. thank you sm to the person who requested this! enjoy and lmk what you think <3
Sterile.
That’s the only word you can ever come up with to describe the feeling of walking into the hospital each day. The white tiles, the bright lights, the almost burning scent of alcohol; it’s all so much to take in but somehow it also gives you a sense of peace.
Every time you come in through those doors it’s like a fresh start. No matter what happened the day before, no matter the heartbreaks or victories, the moment you step inside it’s another chance at new opportunities. It’s one of the reasons you love working here so much, love doing what you do. There are a lot of uncertainties in your line of work, but there are some risks worth taking.
Rounding the corner you start going over what you need to do today. Residency has been a whirlwind of an experience and every day is different from the last, but over the past few months since you’ve been at this hospital, you’ve started to get somewhat of a routine down. At least when you start your day it’s kind of the same every time, giving you a moment of normalcy until the real fun begins.
Changing into your scrubs in the locker room, you nearly jump as one of your coworkers, Jill, comes up beside you.
“Hey!” She squeaks, a gleam in her eyes you know all too well. She’s definitely up to something.
“Jesus, stop doing that to me! You’re gonna kill me one of these days,” you grumble. Shutting your locker you sit on the bench to change into your comfortable work shoes. They’re not the prettiest but they do wonders for your back and feet during these long shifts you endure.
“Sorry! But you’ll never guess who I just saw walk in with Dr. Harper.”
“Who?” You inquire—Jill’s giddy smile and shifty eyes beginning to freak you out.
“Clay Beresford,” she whispers, moving closer to you on the bench to ensure no one else can hear. Not like anyone would considering the two of you are the only people in the locker room.
“Really?” The name isn’t at all unfamiliar. If you live in this city, you know who Clay Beresford is, or his name at the very least. The man owns half the city at this point, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he owned all of it by the time he hit 30. All inherited from his father and even from his own doing too. You’ve seen a bit about him here and there in the papers and on the news. It surprises you how young he is and yet he’s already accomplished so much. It’s inspiring to put it plainly, especially considering how much good he’s done for the underprivileged.
It doesn’t surprise you Jill’s seen Clay here. When you started working at this hospital the gossip was everywhere. You couldn’t chat with a coworker without Clay Beresford being brought up. Apparently he has a bad heart and suffered a massive heart attack not long before you started. It was clear to you then that he didn’t have much time left without a transplant, and that was a while ago. You’re surprised he hasn’t been able to receive one yet considering his status, but amongst the whispers you were able to piece together that his blood type is rare and thus the transplant waiting game began. You’re unfortunately more familiar with that game than you’d like to be—having had your own heart transplant just a few short years ago.
No pun intended but your heart aches for Clay. You know that fear and anxiety he must be facing isn’t easy. The wait for a transplant is brutal enough as it is, but dealing with that is only half the battle. The road to recovery is a long and painful one and you just hope he has the support he’ll need once he does have the surgery. You’re not sure why your mind wanders to thoughts like that when you think of Clay, maybe it’s the transplant sympathizer in you, but there’s also just a part of you that feels like the Beresford heir is so much more than the media and other people make him out to be.
It’s sad, really, when you think about it. In reality Clay’s just like any other person trying to keep on living and get healthy, yet he’s talked about around the hospital as if HIPPA doesn’t exist. Sure he has money and power—as much as a man in New York could have—but that doesn’t change the fact he’s just a 20-something year old guy fighting for his life. You just wish more people saw it that way and wished him well instead of questioning what’s gonna happen to his company if he doesn’t make it out alive.
“-and I mean ohmygod I only saw him for a split second but I swear he is one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” So lost in your own thoughts, you hadn’t even realized Jill has been going off on a tangent about her encounter with Clay.
“Wait, so did you talk to him?” Your eyebrows knit together as you look over at your friend, suddenly needing her to go back several steps in her story.
“No, I told you when I saw him walking down the hall with Dr. Harper I said hello to Doctor and that was it. I couldn’t exactly blurt out Clay’s name like I knew him. If I had I mean hello, stalker much?” You try to bite back your smirk, wanting to tell her that’s exactly what this whole conversation paints her out to be, but you let it go. Jill is always one for the dramatics. “But I did look at him as I was passing by and he smiled at me and nodded and honestly after that I’d say I’m pretty content with life now.”
Giggling, you shake your head. “You’re somethin’ else you know that, Jill?”
“Awh, c’mon! You can’t tell me you wouldn’t just die to have a conversation with Clay Beresford,” Jill teases, poking you softly in the side to try and egg you on. You swat her hand away playfully and roll your eyes.
“It’s not like he’s royalty. Sure he’s attractive and rich but so are a lot of men, some not so favorable.”
“Okay but he might as well be! He’s about as close as you can get to royalty in New York! And that’s the point, he’s not part of those not so favorable men. He seems like a really great guy! I know you think so too, I’ve heard your thoughts on him before. It’s good to have guys like him having a hand in what goes on in this city. God knows we need the help.”
“You got all of that out of a smile and a nod?” This time it’s Jill’s turn to roll her eyes and the two of you laugh lightly as you get up from your spots on the bench.
“Whatever, I’m just saying! You’ll understand where I’m coming from when you meet him in person.”
Reaching for the door handle you look back at Jill. “I doubt that’ll ever happen. I can’t think of one instance where he and I will ever end up in the same room together.”
“It’s possible, I mean look at me! I was just walking down the hall ready to come get you and there he was in all his glory,” she smiles. “I’m honestly surprised you haven’t run into him yet considering all the times he’s here. I know he’s always with Harper when he is here and you’re not usually on his service, but still. I’m also surprised Harper hasn’t introduced the two of you considering your history. You could probably give Clay some tips, you know.”
Turning the thought over in your head you realize that’s not actually a bad observation or idea. “You know you’re actually right. I do have first hand experience with that stuff…but I mean so does Dr. Harper. Sure he’s never experienced a transplant personally but he’s performed them countless times. He probably knows better than me everything that goes along with getting a new heart. I’m just a resident, what could I really help Clay with?”
Jill hums, a sign that means she’s not giving up. “There’s nothing better than talking to someone who’s actually gone through what they have. Respectfully, Dr. Harper can tell Clay all he wants about the process but you’ve actually lived it. I’m just saying it wouldn’t be the worst thing if you happened across him and were able to at least ease his mind if nothing else. Transplants are scary and dangerous, especially heart ones, but you’re proof they actually work and that he has a fighting chance.”
Glancing at your coworker you can see it in her eyes she’s being sincere. Sure Jill likes to joke a lot and is more unserious than not half the time, but she does have her moments and you’ve certainly found yourself in one. It warms your heart that she actually thinks you could be of any help to fellow transplant recipients, even if this whole conversation only started because of the fact she’s attracted to a patient.
“Thanks, Jill. Look I promise if I happen to see Clay Beresford I’ll make sure to give him all my expert advice on dealing with a heart transplant.” Saying it out loud kind of sounds ridiculous to you, still not believing the idea you’d ever even have a chance to talk to the businessman. But it seems to be enough for the woman beside you because in an instant she’s excitedly clapping her hands.
“Goodie! Now, let’s get serious.” Grabbing onto your arm as the two of you continue walking, she leans her head closer to yours—reminding you of when you were both in the locker room. “Do you think Clay has a girlfriend?”
And she’s back.
*****
After parting ways with Jill, you find yourself wandering the halls. A patient had asked you for directions and you took it upon yourself to just lead them to where they needed to go, finding it much easier to do instead of trying to explain it. Sometimes you swear you still get lost around here too.
You’ve ended up a long ways away from where you need to be so you’re quickly trying to find the easiest way back. You don’t have much to do right now but you’d still rather be closer to your assigned doctor for the day in case something comes up. Anything can happen and you want to be accessible if help is needed. You’re eager to learn any and all new skills whenever you can, plus you have a feeling it helps when doctors are deciding who gets to join in on surgeries, which—if you’re being honest—is the goal.
Turning the corner, you cut through the hallway where some of the operating rooms are. You’ve found yourself here countless of times in the past few months, either helping out with low-risk surgeries or merely observing. It gives you a rush in the moment, makes your heart beat a little faster, and although you know super high stress and a rapid heartbeat isn’t the best for you and your condition—it makes you feel alive. The rush and the heavy thumps of your heart remind you of all you’ve been through, all you’ve survived, and it makes you even more grateful to still be here. Grateful to still be able to go out there and help people just like you’ve always wanted.
Smiling at the thought, you quicken your steps, eager to get back to work and see what the day has in store for you. Though before you get much further, you look off to the side and see a doctor rapidly approaching you. It’s Dr. Puttnam, one of the doctors that works closely with Dr. Harper.
You’ve worked on his service a few times before but each time you were itching to get away. There’s just something about him you find a little off. Part of it is probably the way he so easily cracks jokes in the operating room while cutting open a patient and how he seems so cocky with everything he does. It’s like there’s this missing piece of humanity in him, he gives you the impression he only cares about himself and you constantly find yourself wanting to roll your eyes in his presence. You and Jill have talked about him before and she feels the same way you do—if not stronger. The two of you always tease each other when one of you unfortunately gets put on his service, and as he approaches you you pray he’s not here to tell you today’s one of those instances. That’d really put a damper on your mood right now.
“Y/N! Glad to run into you. Hey, do me a favor and let Dr. Harper know to saddle up. Riordan’s cabbage is in the ICU bleedin’. He took off for the fuckin’ vineyard so we gotta get in there. Harper’s supposedly in one of the operating rooms so just find him and let him know I’ll be waiting, thanks!”
You don’t even get a chance to respond because in an instant he’s back to rushing down the hallway. See this is exactly why you don’t like him. Who talks like that about another patient? It’s like taking care of people is a chore for him…as if it’s not his job.
Ugh.
Trying to not let it get to you, you take a peek in the operating room closest to you. You can see Dr. Harper through the window and can tell he’s talking to someone but you can’t see who it is. You’re pretty sure he didn’t have any surgeries this morning so you’re confused on why he’s even inside. You shrug and push on the door, feeling the weight of it as it slides open.
When you walk in you catch the tail-end of Harper’s conversation. “You might not have much of it left, okay?”
Your eyes cut from the doctor to the figure that moves on the operating table. As you step further into the room you nearly trip over your feet as you stop dead in your tracks. Laying on the operating table, forearms holding up the top half of his body, and staring straight at you, is Clay Beresford himself.
Oh my god?
For some reason you figured Clay would’ve been gone by now. Sure you knew he was with Dr. Harper, but considering his job you just assumed it’d be quick. You never thought in a million years you’d walk in on him laying on an operating table fully clothed and apparently discussing something serious with Dr. Harper. It’s strange but you’re also intrigued.
“Ah, Miss Y/L/N! How can I help you?” Harper’s voice breaks you out of your trance and you pray the heat you feel flush through your body isn’t visible as you finally look away from the blonde just a few feet in front of you.
“Dr. Harper, I-I’m sorry to interrupt! I didn’t know you were with a…” Words fail you as your eyes flit to Clay once again, taking note of the soft smile adorned on his face. Finally the word you’re looking for comes to mind and you shift your focus back onto Harper. “Patient.”
“It’s quite alright, we were just finishing up.” Harper turns to Clay and from the tone of his voice and look on his face, you get the feeling you actually were interrupting. “Was there something you needed, Y/N?”
Before you can dive too deep into the possibilities of what it is Dr. Harper was talking to Clay about, you remind yourself of the actual reason you walked in here. “Yes! Sorry! Dr. Puttnam stopped me in the hall and told me there’s a bit of a-uh emergency?” Going over Puttnam’s words in your head you try to piece together a more respectful version of them. “Dr. Riordan’s patient is apparently bleeding out and he’s away on vacation so Dr. Puttnam said it’s up to the both of you to treat the patient now. It seemed urgent and he said he wants you to meet up with him in the ICU right away.”
A flash of shock crosses Dr. Harper’s face as he takes in your words and you can see him start to revert to hyperdrive-as most doctors do with news like this. “Oh I see, alright, thank you for letting me know.”
Harper places a hand on Clay’s shoulder and you take this moment to do a once over of the businessman as his attention is being drawn elsewhere. He’s wearing a grey suit that is of course fitted to perfection and he’s got some leather shoes (that you’re sure are worth more than your rent) to match.
It’s funny, you would think that considering his well-kept appearance and cookie cutter styling, the Beresford heir would be oozing the feeling of wealth and prestige. But instead all you see as you look at him sat on that operating table, looking up into the serious eyes of his doctor, is apprehension and uncertainty wrapped up in expensive packaging.
Clay may have practically all the money in the world and an empire of a business backing him, but it’s clear in the unspoken message passing between him and Dr. Harper that there’s a lot more involved than what the public knows. It’s apparent to you, just like you thought earlier, that there’s more to Clay Beresford than just his money and pretty face, that he too has things—people—he’s scared of losing.
You can’t help the downward dip in the corner of your lips as you think about it all, as you think about how you were in his exact same position not that long ago.
“I have to go,” Harper says as he steps away from Clay, but suddenly he stops and you watch as his gaze flutters back and forth between you and the blonde. A thought seems to occur to him and you swear you can see a smile start to form on his face. “I’m sorry, I completely forgot you two have never met before. I don’t know why I didn’t think to introduce you sooner. Y/N, this is Clay, he’s a patient of mine that’s awaiting a heart transplant. Clay, this is Y/N, she’s a resident here and is actually a heart transplant recipient herself.”
Now it’s your turn to be shocked. Where is Jill and how in the hell did she speak this into existence?
Before you get the chance to actually process the fact you’re being personally introduced to Clay, you watch as the man of the hour sticks out his hand for you to shake. You take a step forward and grasp it in your own, giving his hand a light shake as he nods his head and smiles up at you from his seat on the table.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Y/N,” he says.
“You as well, Clay.” A beat passes between the two of you just looking at each other and it’s in this instance you notice how blue Clay’s eyes are. They’re pale blue—like the sky—and you find yourself hoping that a cloud never passes through them.
God, get it together, Y/N.
Letting go of Clay’s hand, you take a step back and put some distance between you. The pictures of him on the news and in the paper so do not do him justice. You take a second to remind yourself Clay’s still a patient of this hospital and, yeah, you’re still an employee of it too. Oops?
“Remember what I said, Clay. No regrets. The clock’s ticking,” Harper says as he walks backwards towards the door. As he faces forward and grabs onto the handle, he stops and turns towards you both again. “You know, Y/N, while you’re here maybe you can give Clay a little advice and insight on the importance and weight of this surgery? Have a little…heart to heart, if you will.”
The doctor smiles at you both before he disappears through the door, leaving you and Clay alone in the operating room.
As the door softly closes, you swear you could hear a pin drop in the silence that follows. For being a bustling hospital it sure is quiet out there…
“So, you’re a heart transplant recipient?” Clay breaks the silence first and you’re grateful for it. You’re not sure what you would’ve even opened a conversation like this with. What does Harper expect you to say? Hey, Clay! This surgery is super scary and you might die, but stay positive!
To be fair, it’s not like that’s a lie per say, but it’s incredibly blunt and you’re definitely not the type of person to just dish something out like that and move on.
“I am,” you start, finding it hard to fully look into the blonde’s eyes again. They’re so intense you’re not sure you’ll be able to be alone with him in this room, look into them, and not completely lose your mind. “It was a while back, nothing extremely recent, but yeah. It was…an experience.”
You don’t even know how to articulate the proper words to explain to Clay how monumental something like a heart transplant is. He’s not stupid, there’s no doubt he knows the risks, but having experienced it yourself and knowing first hand what’s it’s like on the other side of it all is hard to summarize.
“I bet it was,” Clay practically whispers. It’s in this moment you notice he’s lost some of that front he was obviously putting up for Dr. Harper. That joking edge in his tone is gone and is instead replaced by unknowingness. “Dr. Harper has tried to explain to me over and over how important and serious this surgery is, and I get it I really do, but there’s still a part of me that is completely lost on it all. I think if I believe it’s not that bad and just act like everything is fine that it will be. But I know that’s not how it works.
“I’ve tried to talk to Dr. Harper about it but it never comes out the way I want it to. I feel like it would kind of fall on deaf ears anyways. At the end of that surgery Dr. Harper will still be alive. I’m the only one in that operating room who has a chance at not making it back out of there and that terrifies the hell out of me.” Clay let’s out a breathy laugh, not because he finds anything actually funny, but because of the fact he can’t believe he actually said that out loud.
Since the moment he found out he needed this surgery, he’s never once vocalized the very real possibility of what can happen. He’s heard it spoken a dozen times to and around him, but never once has he heard it be spoken in his own voice. The weight on his shoulders seems to somehow get even heavier.
You know Clay is a busy man and that there isn’t a lot of time here to get through to him. But you feel your heart practically shatter in your chest at the blonde’s words, and it’s at this point you decide you’ll try your best, because for some reason the universe has given you this opportunity to be there for someone in your position—something you unfortunately didn’t have. You won’t stand to let Clay be in this alone. Family or not, the man clearly has no one around who’s gone through what he has and you refuse to let him deal with it on his own any longer.
“Clay,” you say, taking tentative steps towards him, not wanting to cross a boundary but also wanting to be close enough so he really hears what you’re about to say. “Dr. Harper isn’t wrong when he says how risky this surgery is. There is a very high chance that you will go to sleep on that table and never wake up.”
Clay’s eyes flick to yours and suddenly that jittery feeling you had looking into them earlier is gone. Now you only feel sincerity and determination as you look into them.
“I don’t want you to take that as me believing you won’t survive this, though. I mean look at me, I know first hand exactly what you’re going through, what you will go through, and I am still here. I am alive and healthy and proof that this can work for you too. I don’t know everything Dr. Harper has told you or asked of you, but I want you to know that you don’t have to let the fear control you. Yeah, this surgery is scary as hell. I didn’t think I was going to make it either, but I did, and I’ve lived every day since knowing this transplant is not a death sentence. It’s a chance at a new life.”
Something flickers in Clay’s eyes and you swear you can tell you’re getting through to him, in whatever way that may be.
“Yes, there are risks, and yes I agree with Dr. Harper in the sense that you need to grasp the fact this surgery and it’s repercussions are very real, but that’s not all that’s important. Of course there are things you have to think about and take care of before going into this surgery, but you also need to take care of yourself. It is your life, Clay, and if I took away anything from when I had my own transplant surgery, it’s that no one else can get you through this the way you can. Your decisions are your own and you have to look after what’s important to you first, no matter what or who that may be. But just because there’s a chance you won’t survive, that doesn’t mean it’ll happen. You deserve to still be able to think about and plan your future. Dr. Harper is a good surgeon and I believe with all my heart that you will continue to have one.”
There’s a finality in your tone that you’re not quite sure on where it came from. Part of you feels like you were just standing on a soap box and maybe you shouldn’t have gone off on that little rant as much as you did, but from the look on Clay’s face you can tell it means the world to him.
“Y/N…why is it only now I’ve just met you?” Clay grins at you and you can feel your face flush at both his comment and awestruck gaze. “Somehow I feel things would’ve made a lot more sense earlier on if I would’ve met you when this all started. Not one person has ever made me feel the way you just did about this surgery. No one’s been able to give their honest thoughts and feelings on it all like that. This is the first time in almost a year that I’ve ever felt seen and heard.”
There’s a small blush on Clay’s cheeks and you revel in the way you words have affected him. You didn’t really have a plan, you kinda just went for it, so you’re glad it came off the way you wanted it to. If there’s anything Clay—or any transplant patient really—deserves is the chance to find solace in someone who can relate to them. Someone to help ease their fears, their burdens.
“There’s a lot of doctors and statistics involved in this whole thing, but there’s not a lot of relatability. Going through this process can be very lonely and nerve wracking, and I know we quite literally just met today but I want you to know I’m here for you, Clay. If you need someone that has any clue about what it’ll feel like, what the process of recovery is like, I’m here to answer those questions. Not everyone is the same, everyone’s transplant journey is different. But just know you no longer have to feel alone in this.”
As you finish your spiel, you try to hide your surprise at your own words. You’ve met this man officially mere minutes ago and yet here you are essentially offering up a shoulder to cry on. Even through your shock you find it weird how natural it feels.
“Thank you, Y/N, seriously,” Clay starts, clearly not feeling uncomfortable at the offer at all as an honest and warm smile adorns his face as he looks at you. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”
That heat makes its way back to your face as you stare at Clay, watching as his eyes look up at you through his lashes as he continues to sit on the operating table. In this position you have the tiniest bit of height advantage on him and you curse yourself for noticing how easy it would be to lean forward and wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into an embrace.
After a few more beats of comfortable silence, the two of you just enthralled in each other’s presence, a daring thought pops into your head. It probably crosses so many lines in regards to HIPPA and just doctor/patient morals in general, but you don’t want this to be the last you see of Clay. Who knows when he’ll be back the same time as you, or if you’ll even get the opportunity to stop and talk to him when you are at the hospital at the same time. You’ve seen a lot of articles recently about taking things into your own hands, making the first step, and apparently this is your moment to practice just that.
“Clay-“ You don’t even get the chance to attempt to be bold because the moment the blonde’s name leaves your lips, his phone is ringing and his gaze is ripped from your own as he reaches into his pocket in search of the source of the sound.
You watch as he looks down at the screen and in an instant every thought of absolutely anything happening between you two is immediately dismissed. It’s so obvious in the way Clay’s shoulders relax, the crease between his brow flattens, and how his whole face practically lights up that clearly whoever is on the other side of that phone call is someone the businessman is in love with.
“Hey, baby,” Clay coos softly in the phone, looking so at peace in an environment that is the complete opposite of it. And that confirms it.
Your shoulders slump forward and you’re unsure why you feel so deeply affected by all of this. You don’t know Clay at all, never would have under any other circumstance, so why does it hurt so much watching him talk sweetly to another woman?
Quickly, you stand up straighter and plaster a smile on your face as Clay’s eyes flick over to you, seeming to remember where exactly he is and who it is he was talking to before his phone rang.
Pulling the phone away slightly from his face, he smiles at you apologetically. “I’m sorry, I should really head out now. It was so nice to meet you.” Clay gets up from the operating table and you find yourself taking a step back as his full height comes into view and he consumes your space.
“Of course! It was nice to meet you too, Clay,” you reply, finding it hard to meet his eyes now. A twinge of embarrassment floods through you. How naïve of you to let yourself daydream about this becoming anything else than what it actually is; a doctor talking to a patient.
You watch his retreating back as he makes his way to the door and you find yourself firmly planted in the spot he’s leaving you in. You won’t lie, a part of you doesn’t want to follow in the risk you’ll go in the same direction and you’ll be forced to hear him whisper more sweet nothings to another woman.
As Clay opens the door, he pauses for a moment before turning back to you and nodding his head. “See you around.”
The door slowly closes behind him and you let out a breath of air you didn’t realize you were holding in.
“See you around, Clay.”
*****
“God, I cannot wait to go home, curl up in bed, and go to sleep. I’m exhausted,” Jill groans as she rubs the back of her neck with her hand, trying to ease some of the tension there.
“Tell me about it, I feel like it was so brutal today. I guess it makes sense considering it is Halloween, but still.” Rolling your head, you feel a couple cracks in your neck and you can’t help the hum of satisfaction that slips past your lips at the feeling.
“Oh shit, it is Halloween, isn’t it? I can’t believe I didn’t realize! Ugh all the good candy is probably sold out by now. You think some of the other doctors with families will bring in candy tomorrow they don’t want their kids to eat? I’d kill for a full size Hershey bar.”
You giggle over your friend’s comments and roll your eyes as you nudge her softly. “Jill, we can get those from the vending machines! Stop trying to mooch off of kids’ hard earned candy.”
“I know, but it tastes better when it’s from trick or treating! A-k-a when it’s free! Besides those kids don’t need it, cavities and all that.”
“Oh okay, I didn’t know you switched over to dentistry,” you laugh.
Jill rolls her eyes and smirks. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Hey, are you even working tomorrow? You better or when I steal a kid’s candy bar, I’m not sharing with you.”
“You’ll have to indulge without me then because I’m off,” you shrug and then laugh as you watch Jill throw her head back with a groan.
“Ugh, so not fair, you lucky, lucky girl! I’m not off until the day after.”
“It’s okay, I’ll get my karma then because I’m working when you’ll be off, so it all balances out in the end.”
Jill tilts her head and hums satisfactorily at that realization. “Huh, you’re right. All is forgiven.”
The two of you laugh and you shake your head at your friend’s antics. You don’t know what you’d do without her.
As the two of you round the corner towards the front door, you both slow down as you take in the sight of a small group before you. It only takes you a second to recognize Clay and even less time to realize he’s with a girl. A very beautiful girl at that.
“Woah, who’s the babe with Clay? You think that’s…?” Jill tilts her head slightly towards you, wanting to get your insight.
You don’t even have to guess that that’s the woman the blonde was talking to earlier on the phone. As you get closer you realize Clay has his arm wrapped around her as well, and your stomach lurches a bit at the sight.
“Y/N!” Your eyes are immediately averted from Clay’s embrace around his—presumed—girlfriend, and instead become locked in with those of the man in question. Those pale blues look somehow even brighter, happier than they were this morning. From the looks on everyone else’s face as well, you can tell there’s a reason for it.
“Hey, Clay,” you smile, finding yourself and Jill now wrapped up in the small gathering. “What’s going on? What are you doing here so late? Is everything okay?”
“More than okay, Ms. Y/L/N! Clay here is getting his new heart tonight,” Dr. Harper chimes in. The smile that breaks out on your face is uncontrollable.
“What!? Clay, that’s amazing! Congratulations.” For a mere moment it feels like the two of you are the only ones standing there. Clay’s soft, grateful smile causes your cheeks to warm and a sense of adoration to flow through you.
The feeling swiftly leaves though as you pick up movement out of the corner of your eye. All too soon you’re brought back to the reality that you’re in a group of people, and the man you can’t stop fawning over is very much involved with whoever this woman is next to him.
Your eyes flit from Clay’s to the brunette woman’s and somehow Clay seems to pick up on it, lightly shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m so sorry, I haven’t introduced you two yet! Sam, this is Y/N, one of the doctors who works with Jack. Y/N, this is Sam; my wife.”
Wife.
The word rings out in your head and you have to fight the way it nearly knocks you off your feet. “H-Hi! It’s so nice to meet you.” You reach out your hand and Sam does the same, your eyes widening at the sight of her wedding ring as she grasps your hand in hers.
You quickly try to recover, not wanting to be too obvious with the way you’re feeling right now. Sam’s smile is big and infectious and you’re sure she doesn’t notice a thing.
Who would, knowing a man like the one next to her is her husband?
Lightly shaking your head, you let go of Sam’s hand and turn towards Jill, needing her now more than ever and also realizing she also deserves an introduction.
“And this is Jill! A friend of mine as well as a fellow doctor.” Jill wastes no time in taking Clay’s gaze off of you, moving in closer and sticking out her hand immediately.
“Hi! So great to officially meet you, Clay!” She says ecstatically before turning her head towards his wife and only slightly losing the excitement. “Sam.”
Clay grasps her hand in his and you can just tell by the look on her face that she’s eating this up. You have to hold yourself back from laughing. “I remember you! I saw you this morning while I was with Dr. Harper, right?”
You swear you see Jill die and then come back to life all in a split second. “Y-Yes, that was me!”
She miraculously lets go of Clay’s hand and you hear her let out a stunned huff as the takes a step back towards you. Not a second later you feel Jill poke you lightly in the side and you know immediately she’s never going to live this moment down.
You cover up the chuckle that escapes you by clearing your throat. As you regain yourself, you watch as Sam looks up at Clay and they seem to share a private moment, even while standing in the middle of a hospital. It’s evident the love they have for each other, the trust and admiration. It’s palpable and makes your heart squeeze, both in envy and despair.
You’d give anything to have a love like that. A man like that. Specifically that man in front of you, if you’re being completely honest.
“You girls heading home for the night?” A voice cuts into your stream of thought and you’re grateful for the opportunity to turn away from Clay and Sam.
It’s Dr. Puttnam, but you’re honestly not even mad about having to talk to him right now. You might even go as far as to say you’re thankful for him…maybe.
“Yeah, our shifts just ended so we’re on our way out,” you reply.
“Really? That’s too bad, I was hoping maybe you’d be here for the surgery. I figured since you work with Jack and all that you’d be in the operating room,” Clay says, drawing your attention right back to him.
“Oh-!” Clay’s words catch you off guard but also leave you feeling flattered. To think he wanted—no, wants—you in the operating room with him, it leaves you practically speechless. “Uh-no, I’m not on your case specifically, but I wouldn’t mind stepping in, if Dr. Harper is-“
“No!” You’re cut off by Harper himself and with his sudden exclamation, your excitement dwindles. An opportunity to be there for Clay in a way you didn’t think was possible would’ve been everything. Even besides that, to step in on a high profile heart transplant surgery this early in your career could’ve opened so many doors for you. You’re confused on the sudden shut down of the idea and by the look on Clay’s face, you’re not the only one. Harper clears his throat and gives a strained smile. “I mean, unfortunately that wouldn’t be possible. Although Y/N is more than capable of taking part in the surgery, due to the severity of this case I must insist we stick with only the original people assigned to this operation. We wouldn’t want to risk anything or have more people in the room than necessary.”
A valid reason, but still a disappointing one nonetheless. You just nod your head understandingly, your lips coming together in a tight line as you try to not let your upset emotions shine through.
“You could stick around in the waiting room with me? If you want to that is, I know you’re just getting off a shift. Clay told me earlier about the conversation he had with you and well, I just know it’d mean a lot to him to know you were around—at least in some capacity—for his surgery.” Your eyes snap to Sam and her offer takes you by surprise.
Damn, she’s nice, too? It’s gonna be really hard to dislike this woman.
You shift your gaze to the blonde before you and he nods his head lightly, encouraging the idea. Your decision is a no brainer. “I’d love to. Anything to help support Clay.”
“Great!” Puttnam cuts in with a clap of his hands. “The more, the merrier! I’m sure your mother will appreciate the company, Clay.”
The doctor looks on with a smile but it immediately drops as he takes in Clay’s concerned expression.
“What? Wait, she’s here?” Clay questions.
Clay and Harper share a look and you try to not come off as nosy as you attempt to read their expressions. It’s clear Dr. Harper and Clay have some sort of understanding with each other. It doesn’t seem odd considering their friendship, but it’s clear there’s some hesitation between them when it comes to Mrs. Beresford, at least from what you can tell.
“What? She’s on the call sheet,” Dr. Puttnam says in defense.
Clay sighs before turning to Sam. “I’m going to go deal with this and then I’ll meet back up with you. I think it’d be best if I just went with Jack to handle my mother.” Sam nods and you watch as the blonde leans in and plants a soft kiss on her forehead before turning back to the group.
You try to make yourself appear as if you didn’t just witness their tender moment by stepping a bit closer to Penny, trying to locate what room they’re gonna have Clay in.
“If you want,” you start, wanting to offer at least some sort of help. “I can take Sam up to the room you’ll be in. She can wait there until you’re ready to get changed for surgery.”
“Thank you, Y/N,” Clay smiles. “That’d be perfect.”
Trying to hide the blush you just know is beginning to coat your cheeks, you smile and nod your head before stepping away towards Jill. The look on her face makes her appear as if she’s just won the lottery and honestly just knowing how Jill is, her talking to Clay is her version of winning the lottery.
You roll your eyes affectionately and smirk as you physically feel how jittery with excitement she is as you pull her closer to you. “Well, I guess this is happening?”
“Holy shit! Yeah this is happening! Look at you getting all cosy with the Beresford family! This morning you didn’t even think you’d ever be in the same room as Clay let alone getting to talk to him and now be his personal on call girl.” There’s a suggestive look on your friend’s face and you feel yourself wanting to curl into a ball over the fact she said that when everyone else is barely five feet away.
“Jill!” You squeak. She begins to laugh and you hate the fact you feel yourself fighting back a chuckle as well. “I can’t believe you.”
“No, I can’t believe you. I’m heading home but go and get cosy with the apparent new Mrs. B.” Jill lowers her voice and leans her head so close to you her forehead nearly knocks into the side of yours. “Maybe you’ll find out she’s really some horrible person and you can swoop in and steal the blonde god that is Clay Beresford away from her.”
“Jill! Never gonna happen!” You playfully push your friend away and watch as she laughs brightly over the whole thing. You just stand there and shake your head, barely noticing the intrigued look on Clay’s face a few feet away from you.
As your friend recollects herself, you let her absurd words float through your mind. You sneak a glance over at the woman in question and find it hard to believe she could have any trace of evil inside of her. Her smile and eyes are too kind, and the literal glow around her as she talks with her husband is unmistakable. It’s clear she makes Clay happy and you’re sure a man as good as Clay Beresford would never fall for someone cruel.
“You never know,” Jill shrugs. She yawns and then continues. “I’m gone, but call me if anything happens! Good or bad, I want the details.”
“Promise! Have a good night, I’ll see you later.” Jill waves in return and as she walks past the small group she wishes Clay ‘good luck’, which he instantly thanks her for.
Even with her back turned you can tell the woman has a smile on her face. You don’t even wanna know the thoughts running through her head right now. The idea makes you chuckle.
Rejoining the group you take in the fact it’s dwindled since you stepped away. All that remains is Clay, Sam, and Dr. Harper.
“Y/N, perfect timing! Dr. Puttnam has gone with Penny to get the operating room ready for Clay. Why don’t you go on ahead with Sam while Clay and I speak with his mother. We hope the conversation won’t be long,” Dr. Harper says before glancing at Clay. “But either way we will meet up with you both and get started right away.”
“Sounds good to me,” you say before turning towards Clay and Sam. “Sam, right this way.”
The brunette smiles at you warmly and you mentally curse yourself for even jokingly thinking about the idea of stealing her new husband from her.
After all, she is just evidently a girl in love trying to live a long, happy life with her husband.
*****
To say the atmosphere has turned a little...chilly would be an understatement. After bringing Sam back to the waiting room, it wasn't long before Clay's mother joined you two. She greeted you kindly, asked a few questions, and thanked you for staying to support her son. But the minute Sam tried to insert herself into the conversation, tried to find some connection with Clay's mom, Lilith immediately shut her down. Lilith wasn't very receptive to anything Sam had to say, which made having any conversation with the both of them basically impossible, to put it lightly.
So now you find yourself practically trapped between these two women who clearly have some sort of history, anxiously watching the time tick by on the clock you've had your eyes glued to for some time now. Lilith's occupied herself with some playing cards she had in her purse and Sam twiddles aimlessly with her thumbs, no doubt feeling anxious not only about Clay but also due to the tension between herself and his mother.
"Miss, uh..." The deep baritone of the nurse's voice breaks you out of your thoughts and you immediately hone in on the chance he might be bringing news of Clay. "Ramos?"
Your shoulders slump down in rejection, feeling no closer to getting any answers than you did before the nurse walked in. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he goes and sits down in one of the waiting room chairs close to Sam. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you wonder what it is he could want from her.
"Hi, how you doin'?" He asks Sam and you can tell she's having non of it as she replies with a cool 'hey'. "Can I help you with something?"
Wow, he's persistent, you think.
You go to roll your eyes, picking up on the fact that clearly this guy is trying to hit on Sam. Which, if you think about it, is a little sick considering where you are currently. Obviously that doesn't deter some people.
"Haven't I seen you around?" You lift your head up and look over at the pair, finding it odd the nurse would even say that. You assume if he has seen her around, she'd be with Clay and this guy would know she's taken. You mentally brush it off, this is probably just part of his game to get Sam's number.
The need to maybe step in on Sam's behalf is abruptly pushed to the side as you see Sam hold up her hand, proudly showing off her engagement and wedding ring.
You can't help the tiny smirk that graces your lips as you watch the nurse sigh and slouch down in defeat. Sam shut that down real quick. The nurse mumbles an apology before rushing off back to his job.
"You have two rings on your finger." Your smirk disappears as you hear Lilith speak up from beside you. It's the first time she's spoken to Sam directly since you got to the waiting room. Something tells you this is not gonna be good.
"What was that?" Sam questions barely above a whisper. She's probably just as shocked as you this interaction is happening.
"Why are you wearing two rings, Sam?" The way Lilith questions it, you know she already knows the answer and she is not happy about it.
Holy shit, you think. She had no idea her own son got married.
Things just got a whole lot more interesting.
Sam stays silent and it doesn't take long for Lilith to question, "When?"
"Just before he got the call," Sam shrugs, looking timid. Clay's mom sighs and quickly looks away from her, finding the playing cards she's been shuffling way more interesting than whatever it is her apparent daughter-in-law has to say.
"Lilith," Sam pleads, but it's no use as Lilith refuses to look up.
Yikes. Maybe I should've sat on the other side, you think. You feel at any moment those playing cards could go flying and you really don't feel like being in the middle of that cat fight.
Clearing your throat in the least awkward way as possible, you get up and head for the vending machine a few feet in front of you. Maybe a little refreshment will do you some good. It is Halloween after all, you deserve a sweet treat.
As you pick which of the drinks it is you want, you remember the tidbit Sam tried to give Clay's mom earlier when she first walked into the waiting room. You hold down a bit longer on the button and feel satisfied as you watch your treat get released to you.
Bending down to grab your drink, you startle a little as a crash sounds from behind you. You turn your head and watch as Sam hurries to the floor, a bunch of orange pill bottles scattered around her. She must've dropped her purse.
"Oh, shit!" She exclaims, trying to catch some of the bottles before they roll away. You go to help her pick them up, but you stop as she begins to speak, clearly to Lilith. "Levatol, Enalapril, Digoxin. He likes me to carry them around. If I left it up to him he'd be popping 'em like M&Ms. He could OD on these things, you know?"
Sam finishes gathering all the bottles and goes back to the chair she was sitting in. "Can't say I'll miss them. A lot of cute purses I haven't been able to use over the last year."
"I didn't know you did that," Lilith says softly, looking down at the ground. It's obvious she's taking in the fact Sam cares deeply for Clay. Why else would she cart around all his medicines like that? You don't do that for someone you're not serious about. "That you carried his meds around."
It feels as if there's about to be some big turning point for the two women right now, so you stay hovering by the vending machine, not wanting to get in the way of whatever moment they're about to have. You only hope it turns out well and doesn't become a screaming match.
"I tried not to like him. I honestly did," Sam starts. "Lilith, I know how much he means to you."
"What do you want from me, Sam?" Lilith asks defensively. You barely know the woman and yet you can tell all of this is incredibly hard for her to fathom. Her son got married right under her nose and now he's in a life threatening surgery that she has no idea if he'll survive. You can't even imagine where her head must be at right now.
"I want you to tell him that he's as good as his father. I want you to tell him that it's okay to love me, and I want you to tell me that it's okay to love him back. He's already lost one parent, he can't lose another. He needs you. I'm not a bad person. I mean if you could just give us your blessing—"
There's a rawness and urgency in Sam's tone. At this point she has nothing left to lose. It's clear she's hanging on to every second Lilith is giving her, using every bit of that time to try and convince this powerful woman that she's deserving of her son. A part of you aches for her. To have a love you're willing to fight for is a rare thing, and you think anyone who's willing to sacrifice everything for the one they love deserves happiness.
"Okay, just stop talking." Lilith holds up her hand and that immediately causes Sam to halt her efforts. You prepare for the worst, but what Clay's mom does next shocks you. "Just make sure he takes his meds and...stop talking."
"What?" Sam asks, her eyes going slightly wide at Lilith's...acceptance?
"He has horrible allergies. Did you know that? Especially in the spring. Grass and flowers." You watch as Sam wastes no time in wrapping her arms around Lilith, bringing her in for a long awaited hug. The sight makes you smile. "Don't think this means I'm gonna be visiting every week."
Sam holds on a little longer and you can see Lilith start to stiffen a bit at the contact. She's not fully there yet, but you can tell this family is going to be okay. You may not know the whole story, but it's clear there's a lot of love involved. "Okay. Okay, let go. All right." Lilith chuckles a little and the two of them break apart, settling back into each of their respective seats.
You take this as your sign that it's all clear to take your seat again. You walk up and catch Sam's eye, you give her a warm smile and she gives you one in return. That glow she had around Clay earlier is back and you can tell this interaction she had with Lilith has lifted her spirits. That little envious feeling you had earlier too comes back, but you push it aside. Now is not the time.
As you sit down in between Sam and Lilith again, you open your drink and take a long sip. The cool liquid runs down your throat and you relish in the refreshing feeling. It feels like you've all been here for ages. You're starting to pick up on the feeling your friends and family must've had when you had your own heart transplant surgery. This waiting game is definitely not easy, and you'd give anything to get some answers.
Clay's wife must feel the same because not a second later she leans towards you and Lilith. "You know what? I'm gonna try and find out what's going on."
You both give Sam nods of encouragement, seeing it as the best bet. You thought about maybe trying to use your status as an employee as leverage to try and get some information, but the fact you're off the clock mixed with the fact you're not part of Clay's family had you second guessing doing that. Thankfully Sam's taking one for the team. "Sit tight, you two. I'll be right back."
The brunette walks off towards two doctors who have congregated in the hallway and you strain your ears to try and hear what they have to say, it's useless though, everyone talking in hushed tones.
There's a doctor in blue scrubs off to the right of Sam and you watch as he makes his way towards her. You've personally never seen him around before, but maybe he's new or he's been called in to help on a surgery. Whatever the case may be, you just hope he has some answers about Clay and his condition.
"You're not a doctor at this hospital!" You hear Sam bite out, and the comment leaves you confused. "I mean, you don't work here, do you?" She finishes in hushed tones, but it's just loud enough for you to hear, and by the looks of it so did Lilith. The two of you share a puzzling look, not understanding why Sam would say something like that. You chalk it up to the fact maybe Sam just hasn't seen this specific doctor before. You're sure she's decently familiar with Clay's team, so of course she'd have some questions if someone completely new is working on his surgery.
You give Lilith an assuring smile, trying to ease any worries she may have. She gives you one too, but you can tell it's not genuine. She goes back to holding her scarf close to her chest, no doubt what she's using to ground herself, and you mentally sigh. As with any patient's family, you want to give Lilith some sort of comfort to hold onto. A positive update. Good news on Clay's recovery. Anything at all. But alas, you're not able to offer anything and that alone breaks your heart.
Sam walks away from the doctor and you watch as she retreats down a hallway. You're not sure where she plans on going or how she plans on getting some answers, but maybe she knows something you don't. Clay is a high profile patient, to be fair. She could know a way to get access that you haven't heard of yet. Whatever it is Sam is doing, you just hope she's quick. You're not sure how much longer Lilith will be able to hold out without any information.
*****
It seems like hours before Sam makes her way back to the waiting room. In reality it was probably only ten to fifteen minutes, but every minute feels like an hour when it comes to something like this.
As the newest Mrs. Beresford walks towards you and Lilith, you watch as Clay's mother immediately springs to her feet.
"Is he okay? Is everything okay?"
"They wouldn't say," Sam offers. All that time gone and she has nothing to report? There's a nagging feeling in the back of your mind that says none of this is right, things aren't adding up, but you let it go the minute you catch a glimpse of Lilith's face; a mix of both relief at no bad news, but also nerves from no good news either.
"You were gone so long. I started—" Lilith rolls her head back, her shoulders slumping.
"I know, I know. I'm scared too," Sam sympathizes.
The brunette rubs the arms of the older woman before leading her back to her chair. She smiles and nods at you, and you try your best not to make anything of her shifty gaze. It feels almost as if she doesn't want you too close, seeing past anything she's giving Lilith.
It must be paranoia, nothing solid has happened to make it seem like something is going on. Sam is a nice girl, she probably can just tell you have the hots for her husband, and as the clock ticks closer and closer to his surgery finishing, you're sure she's just becoming a little uncomfortable sharing such a personal time with you.
You technically are just a random doctor she met today who had a heartfelt conversation with her significant other and is now sitting with her and her mother-in-law during his life altering surgery. When you put it into perspective, the untrustworthy atmosphere seems to make a bit more sense.
Shaking it off, you readjust yourself in your chair. With no news at all, who knows how much longer it's going to be. Might as well get comfortable.
*****
"Something's wrong." Lilith's voice breaks you out of the trance you've found yourself in. For who knows how long now you've been trying to ground yourself. You're not sure why you're feeling so affected. Maybe it's because you do have a soft spot for Clay. Maybe it's the realization of how scary it is to care for someone going through a heart transplant. Maybe it's a coping mechanism to try and tune out the fact the three of you haven't spoken since Sam came back, anxiety striking you all silent. "I can feel that something's wrong."
"What Is it?" You ask Lilith, noticing her stricken expression the moment you look towards her.
"I can't just sit here like this. They should have told us something by now."
Sam straightens in her seat beside you, no doubt gearing up to try and calm Clay's mom. "Listen to me."
"No, you don't understand. He's not just my son. I was a kid when I had him."
"He's gonna be fine," Sam assures, shifting her gaze between Lilith and you, nodding her head. Your nervousness is probably written all over your face.
"We've grown up together. It's me and him," Lilith continues.
Sam has a contemplative look on her face, and you find yourself having deja vu. You take this as your opportunity to offer Lilith some comfort and advice, much like you did with Clay earlier today. Although, that seems so long ago now.
"He's not gonna die. Not now, not today," you say as you turn your body towards her. Confidence—or something—must overtake you because you find yourself reaching for her hand, feeling the slight shake in them. A mother's worries.
"How can you be so sure?" She whispers, not pulling away from your light grip.
With all the sincerity you can muster you whisper to her, "Because he's got too much to live for."
You can see the shimmer of tears brimming Lilith's eyes as she takes in your words. In an instant, you feel her squeeze your hand, no doubt trying to thank you for your words without having to actually say so, her voice unreliable at this point with the amount of emotion lodged in her throat.
You simply nod your head, letting her know you understand completely. What you said isn't bullshit, it's genuinely how you feel. It's clear as day that Clay is surrounded by two women who love him very much. There's no doubt in your mind that he laid down on that operating table today with every intention of waking up and going back to them.
The thought squeezes your own heart that you fought so hard for. To love is to be loved, and you're happy that Clay has a good support system around him to guide him through what is no doubt going to be hell for a little while. You remember your own restless days and recovery process. Lilith and Sam may not know exactly what Clay is gonna go through, but you're sure they'll do all they can to help him.
*****
You're the first to notice Dr. Harper walking towards you along with the doctor Sam was talking to earlier. You lightly tap both Lilith and Sam with each of your hands to grab their attention. This is it.
"So?" Lilith questions after getting to her feet. Harper immediately shakes his head and your stomach drops.
"He rejected the heart." Four words. Four words is all it takes to completely throw you off balance. "We did everything we could, but the organ failed, and I am so sorry."
No, there's no way.
You feel Sam fall to her seat beside you and you wonder how it must feel for her. She married the love of her life not even a day ago and in just a few hours she lost him. You can't imagine a worse heartbreak.
"The organ failed?" Lilith questions, disbelief evident in her voice.
"Yes, it wouldn't respond to the procedure. But in cases like this, it's not uncommon for—"
"Don't you mean you failed?" Lilith cuts him off, and you can tell at any minute she might lose it. You can't blame her, you'd do the same in her position. You're positive Dr. Harper did all he can to save Clay, but this was a risk you were all well aware of. You just never thought it'd actually happen.
"No, we...we did everything that we could. It's just an imperfect procedure." Harper shakes his head and you can tell by the look on his face that this has broken him just as much as the rest of you. You don't know him or Clay that well, but it's clear they had a genuine friendship. He will never recover from this.
"Say it," Lilith bites out.
"Say what?"
"I wanna hear you say it. I wanna hear you say you failed my son." Dr. Harper stands there in shock as Lilith walks away from him and sits on the opposite side of the aisle of chairs. "It shouldn't have been you. It should never have been you. I fucking knew it."
"I'm sorry, Sam." Harper whispers before slightly turning and barely meeting your eyes. "Y/N."
He leaves the room and all that's left is you, Sam, Lilith, and the doctor Sam was talking to earlier. You find yourselves in utter silence. No other sounds can be heard besides the distant noises of other lives being saved and others being unfortunately lost. You think about how many more families will be devastated tonight just like the Beresfords. The thought pains you.
"I'm afraid we're gonna need your permission to take him off bypass." The doctor's words cause you to glance up at him. He stands tentatively at Mrs. Beresford's side.
"What?" She asks, looking over at him with tears streaming down her face.
"We'll need your permission," He says again, taking a seat next to her. "I'm so sorry to have to ask."
"I don't understand," Lilith shakes her head. "He's alive."
"Yes, but his blood's being pumped by a machine. He has no heart."
You squeeze your eyes shut, hating the image that's planted itself in your mind. You've seen countless people be put on bypass, it's your job, but it makes you feel sick to think about Clay being in that position with no way out. His chest open on that table with no heart inside to make him better again. You hate it. He deserved better.
"Then get him another heart," Clay's mother demands, not understanding the full severity of the situation. There is no other heart. You've heard enough about Clay and his case to know this one was a miracle as it is. To get another heart on such short notice, whilst also not having Clay on bypass for too long a time, is impossible.
"You don't understand. His blood type's too rare. We don't have one. I'm sorry. It's over." The doctor explains softly. Lilith merely thanks him before standing up and making her way to the corner of the waiting room, scarf still clutched in her hands.
"I'll be in the hallway," the doctor says before walking away form you all.
"Lilith," Sam says as she gets up from her seat.
"Could you leave me alone for a minute?" Lilith stops her in her tracks, not wanting Sam's comfort right now.
"Okay," she complies before walking away, going who knows where.
For a moment it's just you and Clay's mom. Nothing is said between the two of you, but just by looking at her you can tell she's struggling to keep it together.
You stand, taking a small step closer to the woman before softy calling out her name. "Lilith."
Suddenly, her eyes narrow slightly, a look of determination overtaking her grief-stricken features. "I'm going to the cafeteria. I need a moment alone."
She doesn't even await your answer as she swiftly makes her way around the chairs and towards the hallway, but not before snatching Sam's purse out of one of the chairs. You don't even question it at this point, you'd do just about anything else before standing in the way of a grieving mother.
*****
Time passes, and that nagging feeling you had earlier that something is severely wrong comes crawling back. Lilith still isn't back from the cafeteria yet, and you haven't seen Sam since Lilith asked her to leave.
You do the only thing that feels right. You go after Lilith. She's Clay's mother. If something is going on, she'd be the only one you could trust to tell you the truth. You need to talk to her, see if she feels the same way. You don't understand how this all could've gone south so fast.
Quickly making your way to the cafeteria, you looking around at all the tables and chairs, trying to find Lilith as quickly as possible. When you do finally spot her, what you see has your breath catching in your throat.
"Lilith!" You cry, rushing over to her secluded table. When you reach her, she's just finished shoving multiple pills in her mouth. You recognize the bottles as the same ones that fell out of Sam's purse earlier. Lilith has taken Clay's medication. She's trying to OD. "What have you done!? I need to get help."
Before you're able to rush off and call someone over to help you, Lilith has her hand wrapped around your arm, stopping you in your tracks. "No! Please, don't."
"Why are you doing this? What's going on? I came to find you because I think something's wrong with what happened to Clay but-but-" You feel tears start to brim your eyes. Even though you hardly know the woman before you, you can't imagine her taking her own life. The pain she must be feeling is insurmountable, but she can't do this. She can't.
"Let me explain, please. I don't have much time." Lilith urges you to sit down and you do so immediately. The quicker she gets out whatever she needs to say, the quicker you can go for help and save her life. There's no way you're losing both Beresfords tonight.
"What is it?" You urge, leaning towards her in your seat, the anticipation and stress eating you up.
"I had a feeling something was going on, I knew it from the beginning, but I kept telling myself I was just paranoid. My suspicions were confirmed though when I found this." Lilith pauses to reach into Sam's purse, pulling out a small stack of envelopes and handing them to you.
"What is this?" You look down at the letters Lilith has given you and your eyebrows furrow in confusion when you notice Sam's name on them. Except, on each letter, she has one of two different last names. On some of her letters her name is Samantha Lockwood, but on others, specifically one from Varick University (a nursing school), it says her name is Samantha Tunnell. You feel like you're gonna throw up, quickly catching on to where this might be going.
"She's not who she says she is. It only took me a second to put it together after that. She's been to this hospital before. Think about it; the vending machine she somehow knew how to work? The nurse asking if he'd seen her before? Her saying one of Clay's doctors didn't work at this hospital? How would she know any of that stuff? I don't know the exact specifics, but they're all in on it, all of them! They tried to kill my son, they are killing him unless I do something about it."
"Lilith, I'm sorry there's nothing we can do. There's no other heart for Clay. His blood type—"
"Is the same as mine."
Lilith's sentence sends your mind reeling. Suddenly, the picture becomes clear.
She's going to give him her heart.
"Lilith, if what you're saying is true—"
"It is, and I need you to let me do it. I've already called Dr. Neyer, he's on his way to perform the transplant, I don't trust anyone else. It's happening and it's happening fast so please, listen to me. I need you to do me a favor, Y/N."
You're stunned silent. There are no words to describe what's happening right now. It was just supposed to be a heart transplant. The anticipation of waiting for Clay to make it out on the other side was supposed to be the most nerve-racking event of the day, but suddenly his murder plot is.
Trusted medical staff. His best friend. His wife. All in on it. Your stomach churns and your heart races, but as you stare at Lilith, you realize just how serious she is. How dead set she is on changing the story these horrible people have written.
Gone is the poised woman who was married to a business tycoon. What remains is merely a mother doing everything she can to save her only child. You'd find it admirable if you weren't already feeling so frightened and worried about it all.
What she's set in motion cannot be undone, and as she stares at you eagerly, hoping you'll agree, you can't help but to take a leap of faith and do just that. "What can I do to help you?"
"Hold onto those letters like your life depends on it. Give them to the police directly the minute they get here. She cannot and will not get away with this. None of them will. But most importantly, what I need you to do is look after my son."
Lilith reaches out and grasps your hands in hers, much like you did earlier when you were assuring her Clay would not die today. Unlike earlier, though, her hands are no longer trembling. She is the most stoic you've seen her all day, and her determination is slowly but surely rubbing off on you.
"Lilith, I—" You can't find the right words to reply to her with. Obviously turning in evidence to the police is a no brainer, but looking after Clay? A man you met not even 24 hours ago. Your heart knows it's right, but your head is trying to reason otherwise.
"It's okay, I know it's a big ask, but please Y/N. Clay will have no one else on his side after tonight. I know you just met me, just met him, but for some reason I trust you wholly. I can tell your heart is pure. You stayed by Clay's side just for the mere fact you wanted to be there for him. You know personally what he's gonna go through after he wakes up from that surgery. I have no one else to turn to, no one else to ask. I know it's not fair of me, but I need you. He needs you."
Your heart swells. Emotions run wild through your mind, only one thought clear amongst the chaos. You have to do this, you have to do what she's asking. You want to. God knows no one else will get it all like you do. No one else will understand Clay and be there for him to answer any questions he may have. You truly will be all he's got.
With tears slipping down your cheeks, you nod your head. "Yes, absolutely. I'll do it, Lilith. I promise I won't let you down, I won't let Clay down."
"Good," she smiles, her eyes starting to droop closed. No doubt the concoction of pills she downed working their way through her bloodstream. Any minute now her body will shut down. Her heart will stop beating. She'll never wake up again. "Now hurry. Go find Neyers. He should be here any minute if he's not already. Bring him here and make sure he gets started right away. Clay doesn't have much time."
Noting your head, you stand up from the table, removing one of your hands from Lilith's grasp to wipe away your endless tears. Before you can take back your other hand, Clay's mother squeezes it tightly, causing you to look directly at her.
"Thank you," she whispers, her body slumping back in her chair, her head beginning to lean on the wall to her right. "Clay deserves someone like you."
You smile weakly at the woman, your heart squeezing for more reasons than one. "Goodbye, Lilith."
The older woman lets go of your hand and uses it to prop her head up. To anyone walking by she just looks like a tired loved one, looking to pass the time in the hospital cafeteria. But you know what's really going on. You watch as her breathing slows, her chest rising and falling less and less as the seconds tick by. It'll be any second now, but you can't bear to witness her final moment. Instead, you do as she asked and haul ass to the hospital entrance, looking for the man who's going to save the life of the Beresford heir.
*****
Knowing Clay was going under the knife a second time was no easier than the first time. Dr. Neyer is an incredibly capable doctor, but considering the events of today, you could say you're still a bit uneasy.
There was no way you were going back to that waiting room from earlier, you'd rather walk around aimlessly for hours instead of reliving those moments again and again in your mind. You're beating yourself up over the fact you didn't truly notice anything was off earlier. If you just would've trusted your gut feeling a little more or asked a few more questions, maybe things could've been different.
You shake those thoughts away, though, knowing there's nothing to be done now. What's done is done and all you can do is hope and wait for Clay to get out of that surgery safe and sound.
After meeting up with Neyer and the police, you discovered they already caught Puttnam and Penny. They're still looking for Harper and Sam, but you're sure they'll catch them soon. They're in this hospital somewhere and there's no way they're coming out of it without wearing handcuffs. There's officers at every exit, so it's just a matter of time.
Your sadness and confusion has morphed into anger now. You feel betrayed for Clay and his family, and you feel betrayed for yourself for the fact these doctors you trusted turned out to be nothing but heartless, greedy monsters. These people who you looked up to, who you wanted to be like, are nothing but frauds.
Heat starts to travel up your neck, and the feeling only intensifies when a loud noise ahead of you catches your attention and you spot a familiar brunette trying to open a locked door.
"Hey, Mrs. Beresford," you call out, Sam's head instantly snapping in your direction. "Or should I call you Ms. Lockwood? Or Ms. Tunnell? Or I know! How about just Sam? Considering that seems to be the only name that stays consistent through all your different identities."
Samantha smirks as she stalks towards you, a look of smugness all over her face. It's hilarious how she clearly thinks she's won. If only she knew how far from the truth that is.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she sighs. "All I'm doing is looking for some answers on my husband's death. I'm just the grieving widow, remember?"
Your blood boils at her comments. How dare she feign innocence when she's probably the one who killed Clay. Your mind goes back to when she was gone from the waiting room for so long, looking for updates on Clay's surgery. She was probably meeting up with all of them, planning on what they were gonna do next. It takes everything in you not to lunge for the woman before you.
"Cut the shit, Sam! I know what you did, and so do the police. Nice work on carrying around your mail with you. Couldn't even cover up your tracks properly. You'll never get away with this no matter how hard you try or how many fake tears you cry."
Sam's smirk falters. She knows she's caught. You can see the realization flash in her eyes. Her mistakes, her missteps, her failures.
"Oh, please," she scoffs, trying to gain back the upper hand. "And who are you, exactly? Nothing but a wannabe surgeon with a little crush on someone else's husband. Real nice."
"Yeah? At least I'm not a killer. And unlike you, I am a surgeon, which is more than you'll ever be while you're locked up behind bars." Crossing your arms over your chest, you tilt your head to the side and call over your shoulder, "She's over here, officers!"
Sam's eyes widen, quickly realizing you had her right where you wanted her. You saw the police officers coming up the hallway off to your right, you just had to buy them some time so they could catch up to you and arrest Sam once and for all.
Now it's your turn to have the smug look on your face as the officers rush past you and get Sam down on the ground. She never even had a chance to try and outrun them.
Walking over to the woman on the ground, you squat down to try and be more in her line of vision. You really wanna make sure she understands the words you're about to utter.
"Oh and, Sam?" You start, practically batting your eyelashes at her as she glares at you. "It's ex-husband now. And trust me, I'll take real good care of him for you."
The woman practically screams as you stand back up and turn on your heel towards the recovery rooms. Clay will be out of surgery soon and you wanna make sure you're there for him when he wakes up.
As you turn the corner, you spare a quick glance back down the way you came. Although you wish everything that happened today never occurred, it gives you great satisfaction to see the officers yank Sam up off the ground and practically drag her towards the exit.
Good, you think. She'll get what she deserves.
*****
After several more hours, you've found yourself sat in a recovery room. Finally.
Not long after the police apprehended Sam, they found Harper and arrested him. He was just sat in his office, evidence laid out on his desk. He was ready for them. If you had to guess, he's probably the only one out of that group who genuinely feels remorse for what they did. You find it hard to sympathize with him at this current moment, though.
Dr. Neyer informed you the surgery went well. They lost Clay right at the end but thankfully were able to bring him back one final time. He lays in front of you now on a hospital bed, the beeping of his heart monitor and his soft breathing the only sounds filling the room.
It's been a few hours since they brought Clay here, and you used that time to catch up on some much needed sleep after being up for nearly twenty-four hours. It was a quick nap, but you feel much better.
You're still trying to process everything that happened. Even with Clay laying here in front of you like this, you and him being the only ones in the room, it still doesn't feel real. Part of you thinks that maybe you'll wake up at any moment and it'll all have been a dream. Another part of you worries that it's all too real, and that there's a chance Clay might not wake up.
Dr. Neyers stopped in a few minutes ago and informed you that Clay should be waking up any minute now. He might be a bit groggy but he would be awake nonetheless.
You’ve practically jumped out of your seat every other second since then each time you thought you saw movement. So far still nothing, but you’re hopeful it’ll be soon. You need it to be. You promised Clay’s mom you’d look after him, and you don’t plan on breaking that promise anytime soon.
Sighing, you get up from your spot in the chair next to Clay’s bed and instead take a seat to the left of him, your hip brushing his blanket covered thigh as you try not to fall off the side.
He looks peaceful as he lays there sleeping. So innocent from all the horrors that went on while he was in surgery. You dread the moment you’ll have to fill him in on all that happened. When you’ll have to tell him his mom—the woman he loves so dearly—is dead.
Emotion floods you and you try not to let it take you over. Instead you reach forward and grab Clay’s right hand in yours. His skin is warm and soft under your touch and you find comfort in it. You hope that when he does wake up, he’ll find comfort in yours too.
Rubbing your thumb back and forth over Clay’s knuckles, you look over at the EKG machine he’s hooked up to. His heart rate is steady, strong. You’re glad he made it out of the surgery, it’s rare people make it out of one transplant, yet alone two on the same day. Clay’s strong, you know he’ll get through this. He has to. His mom died to save his life and you don’t know a worse tragedy than one where neither one of them makes it out of this. The thought alone—
Your head snaps forward instantly. You wait a second and when it happens again you know you’re not just imagining it.
Clay’s hand squeezed yours. Twice!
Leaning forward, you watch as Clay’s eyes shift back and forth under his eyelids before finally, finally, they open. Immediately you’re met with two pale blue eyes.
He’s awake.
“Clay,” you whisper, not wanting to startle him. His eyes quickly find yours and you smile as you feel him squeeze your hand again. “Hey there. You’re okay, it’s all gonna be okay.”
Clay tilts his head to the side and you watch as he feebly attempts to sit up, no doubt trying to get some water. He winces and gives up immediately. You know that pain all too well.
“I got it, it’s okay. Don’t move.” Reaching over, you grab the small cup of water you poured a bit earlier incase Clay wanted it when he woke up. You hold the straw for him and bring it forward, allowing him to take a few sips. He tilts his head back when he’s done and you place the cup back on his bedside table.
“Thank you,” he croaks out, his voice raspier than normal. Even though you figured that would be the case, the deeper sound still takes you by surprise. You try not to take enjoyment in the sound, all things considered.
The blonde clears his throat and reality hits you as you realize you’ll now have to do the thing you’ve been dreading; telling Clay everything. You’re not sure where to begin, but you figure the beginning is probably the best place to start.
“Clay,” you say, uneasiness already settling in your voice. “I have to tell you something.”
A beat passes and as you go to continue, Clay beats you to it. “My mother is dead.”
Your eyes widen at his words. “How-How do you know that?”
He closes his eyes and takes a breath before saying, “I know everything. About Jack, Puttnam, and Penny. About-About Sam.” Pain crosses Clay’s features, but you’d bet anything that this time it isn’t physical. “When I was under, I wasn’t actually asleep. I don’t know how to describe it other than saying it was an out of body experience. I saw everything, heard everything, felt everything.”
“Oh, Clay,” you sigh, your heart breaking at his words. Immediately you know what he’s referring to. Intraoperative awareness is rare, and to think Clay was experiencing it during one of the worst possible surgeries and during one of the worst possible times absolutely blows your mind. What did he ever do to deserve this?
“What do you remember last?” You ask him. You don’t want to push Clay, but you need to know if there’s any gaps you need to fill in for him. Does he know he’s safe? Does he know everyone who tried to hurt him last night is never going to get near him again?
“The last thing I remember is talking to my mother,” he says it almost as a whisper and the sound nearly brings tears to your eyes. “She told me what she did, what she asked you to do. I get why she did it, but God, I just—“
Clay cuts himself off, tears beginning to fall from his eyes and down his pale cheeks. The sight tears you in two and causes tears of your own to fall.
“I’m so sorry, Clay.” Your voice cracks, the ability to hide any emotion completely disappearing. You reach out and brush away some of Clay’s tears with your thumb. The man practically melts into your touch and you find yourself wanting nothing more than to just wrap him in your arms and tell him it’s all gonna be okay.
“Did the cops catch them all, at least?” There’s resentment in his tone that you don’t blame him for at all. You can’t even begin to imagine the betrayal he must feel right now.
“Every single one of them. They’re all on their way to the station right now if they’re not already there. The evidence is solid, they’re never gonna see the light of day again and if they do it’ll be when they’re old and gray. You’re safe, Clay. I promise you that.”
The businessman nods his head and you can see him relax a little bit more. Silence settles over the two of you again, but it’s comfortable. Clay has also retaken ahold of your hand and this time he’s the one rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.
Even though he’s the one that’s been through hell, he’s trying to comfort you. The thought makes you chuckle lightly and Clay smiles at the sound.
“Before all the doctors and cops realize I’m awake and start flooding in, I just wanted to say thank you and I’m sorry.” The blue-eyed man looks at you sincerely and you find yourself trying to hold back a frown.
“Clay, you don’t have to thank me for anything, and you have nothing to be sorry for. You had no control over what happened to you, over what these people did to you and your family.”
“I know, but you also didn’t have to get wrapped up in it. I should never have asked you to stay earlier. You were going home and I should’ve respected that and let you go. And my mother asking you to look after me? It’s too much, you don’t deserve—“
“Clay Beresford, stop it right now. Don’t you dare feel guilty about anything. No one forced me to stay here and no one forced me to accept what your mother was asking of me. I did it all on my own. The first time we spoke I told you that no matter what I’d be here for you, in whatever way you may need me, and I meant that. No matter what happened or no matter what will happen, I’m here for you and I don’t want you to ever feel like that’s a burden on me. That you’re a burden on me. We met for a reason and even though what’s happened after that is horrible, I will never take that for granted. I care about you, Clay, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop.”
Clay just lays there and smiles up at you, reveling in the passionate look on your face and in your eyes. He saw it yesterday when you guys met and talked about his fears and thoughts on the surgery. He admires your ability to speak your mind and stand up for what you believe in and how you feel. People like you are rare to him, and he feels incredibly lucky to have found you.
“You don’t know how badly I wish I could hug you right now.” The two of you burst into laughter but Clay’s laughs are suddenly cut short when he groans at the ache in his chest. “Ugh, I’m definitely not gonna get used to that.”
You try to tame your laughter, not wanting to trigger Clay to start laughing and hurt himself again. “Trust me when I say it’ll get better…eventually.”
Clay smirks before sighing, his eyes finding yours. “Seriously, though. Thank you for everything. I can’t imagine not having you by my side right now or what would’ve happened if I didn’t have that conversation with you yesterday. I hope you know how much I appreciate you, no matter how little time we’ve known each other.”
Heat rises up your neck and into your cheeks at his kind words. To think this is where you’ve found yourself when you didn’t even personally know this man twenty-four hours ago. It’s funny how life works sometimes. “You’re welcome, Clay. I appreciate you too.”
As if on cue, there’s a knock on the door and not a second later Dr. Neyers walks in, clipboard in hand. “Good morning, Clayton. We have a lot to discuss.”
Clay nods his head and the two of you share a look. Clay would never say it, but you know he thinks it’s best if he handles this part on his own. He and Neyers have a lot to go over and you’re sure the officers that were walking around the hall earlier will be in to speak with him soon as well. You’ll be here when he needs you, though. You always will.
“I’m gonna go grab something from the cafeteria. I’ll be back, but call me if you need me.” Clay nods his head and you quickly grab his cellphone from the table before placing it next to his hand. That way he won’t have to try and reach for it if he does need you before you get back.
Dr. Neyers gives you a small smile before you walk out of the room and close the door behind you. The click of the door handle fills the silence of the empty hallway and you find yourself grateful for it. You were worried your coworkers would be standing around waiting for any and all updates on Clay, and more specifically you and Clay.
When you were making your way to Clay’s room after the surgery, you caught a few of the nurses and other residents whispering to each other in the hall, no doubt trying to figure out why you’re suddenly involved in Clay’s case. You definitely can’t wait to see what the story is when you come back to work tomorrow. This hospital sure is gossipy.
The walk to the cafeteria is peaceful, though, and that’s only broken when your phone starts buzzing in your bag. You reach in and grab it and nearly laugh out loud at the message on your screen.
Jill:
Umm why did I just overhear people talking about you being here all night with Clay!? What happened, is he okay??? And why are there cops all over the place??? Fill me in on everything!!!
Oh, God, you think. Where do I even begin?
#hayden christensen#hayden christensen x reader#hayden christensen x you#hayden christensen x female reader#hayden christensen x y/n#hayden christensen fanfiction#hayden christensen imagines#clay beresford#clay beresford x reader#clay beresford x you#clay beresford x y/n#clay beresford imagines#clay beresford fanfiction#requested
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My web serial, Worth the Candle, has been adapted into a webcomic. This was thanks to my agent, who I have a great fondness for, since without him I would have to spend time trying to make connections and call people and do a bunch of work that I don't know how to do and am not good at.
I was offered the chance to write the webcomic, but declined, mostly because writing Worth the Candle had taken four years and was pretty draining, and was a story that I feel like I'm done with, minus some editorial stuff, answering fan questions, and the odd bit of promotion. So my level of involvement is that I get the pages as they come in, make some comments on them, and generally just give feedback which they are free to ignore.
So let's talk about some of the adaptational changes! You can read the first three issues on Webtoon here, or the first eight issues if you're willing to pay, and the books start here, but I'll assume that you haven't read either, and there won't be substantial spoilers because I'm talking about stuff from the very beginning. Actually, I guess there will be some spoilers, but later on, and I'll mark them, mostly having to do with some foreshadowing that the webcomic does which I didn't do.
(I licensed the rights to make the webcomic to WebToon and took my money upfront, they didn't ask me to write this post, I have not actually asked the artist/writer why they made these changes, it's just me guessing and commenting, for fun. Edit: My agent has informed me that I'm mistaken, I do get a cut. So apologies for the misinformation, and hooray for me, I guess I signed the contract ages ago and just forgot the details.)
Character Design
Here's how Juniper Smith is described in the books, ch 2:
I won’t belabor my physical description. My friend Greg had once said that I looked like someone had chosen ‘default’ for every option in the character creator, which I’d tried to laugh at but cut kind of deep. I wasn’t handsome, I wasn’t ugly, none of my features were very prominent, my eyes were blue, my hair was brown, average build, average height … After Greg had made his comment at one of our D&D games, my nickname had been ‘default’ for a while, at least until I stopped pretending to find it funny, and even after that my friends would use similar lines to trash talk me, saying that I was “the most generic man alive”, “a white bread with skim milk motherfucker”, or “the human equivalent of vanilla ice cream”. Not that I was any less of an asshole to them.
This is how he looks in the comic:
I would more or less give this full marks.
In terms of other aspects of character design, Juniper is here given a black shirt with a red symbol on it rather than the stock white t-shirt he's wearing in the opening chapters of the first book, probably in the interests of adding in some visual variety. On the page, it's perfectly fine that every person in the first 50k words is wearing basically the same stock outfit. In a visual medium, I do think that you need that pop. I do think it's interesting that Juniper is wearing the same clothes in the classroom as he is on the plane, implying that when he transmigrated his clothes ... came with him? I don't know.
The other major character of the first section is Amaryllis, who is a major character in the entire work. Here's her description in the book:
Standing by a workbench, among various car parts, tools, and cans of unidentified fluids, was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.
I’m not really sure what protocol is here, in terms of prose. I mean, I don’t want to sound like a creep, so maybe I should stay as generic as possible and tell you about her dark red hair pulled back in a braid, the glacial blue of her eyes, how starkly alert she looked as she peered over the parts in front of her, or her grease-smeared clothes. Save for her eyes, I wasn’t really focused on any of that. My mind was consumed by tracing her curves, the shape of her chest in her blood-stained t-shirt, the fullness of her lips and the delicate way she had them parted -- and yeah, it was pretty fucked up that the splatter of blood on her shirt wasn’t worth rating much of a mention. I was consumed with staring at her and thinking how gorgeous she was, until I noticed that she was having a powerful effect on me, at which point different parts of my mind were given over to marveling at the sensation of being so attracted to a girl, and others were still focused on her.
Imagine that someone spent a few years studying your likes and dislikes, running through video of your every private moment, somehow surreptitiously hooking up EKGs to measure your physiological responses without you knowing. Then imagine that they sat down with that data and the best photo manipulation artists in the world and made the absolute perfect picture to cause your heart rate to spike, a jolt to run up your spine, butterflies in your stomach, and a cold sweat on your palms. Then imagine that they did this again, over and over in slight variations, until they had a full 4K 60fps 3D movie to show you. That was what it was like watching her.
And here she is (as she's introduced) in the comic:
Aside from the change in clothes, which in the book are the same white t-shirt and blue jeans that everyone else is wearing, Amaryllis has a scar on her face, of unknown provenance. This was probably added for visual variety, but I do find scars to be very fetching, and in one of the early versions of Worth the Candle she did have one (patterned off a woman with an extremely attractive facial scar I had met, the kind of facial scar that looked like it was applied by a Hollywood makeup artist specifically to give a touch of the exotic and mysterious, except she was a just a Midwestern mom).
And of course Amaryllis was always going to be an adaptational challenge, because the books are told through Juniper's eyes, and she's The Most Beautiful Girl in the World to him, and conventionally attractive to everyone else. Juniper tries to be normal about this. But if you're in the visual medium, you have to show both how Juniper feels and how she actually looks, and attractiveness is just so incredibly personal. My wife and I get in these kinds of discussions a lot, where she'll think someone is good-looking and I'll say "him?" or vice versa.
I think the above panel in particular is a good middle ground, a glamour shot that snaps back to the reality of their first meeting:
(The void gun she's holding there is much different from the one described in the book, not something cobbled together from spare parts and void equipment, but this is another very minor change that I would assume is meant for communicating immediately that this is a lethal weapon, and there's probably not a place for explaining how and from what it was cobbled together, which is also under-explained in the book for reasons of pacing.)
Story
I've read the first nine episodes, and overall, it's hewing very closely. There are a few bits in particular that stand out to me in how they're handled.
Spoilers for later in the series follow, I guess.
These are the opening lines of the webcomic. This is much stronger foreshadowing than I used, and I like it. Part of Juniper's backstory is that he's been deeply depressed and self-destructive, and he's slow to open up about this with other characters or the reader. The "it" that he couldn't go through with is, then, suicide. In the books? This comes very very late. Juniper being depressed after Arthur's death is brought up after the first major arc, halfway through what's now Book 1, and gets more explicit as the books go on, eventually getting to Juniper talking about his attempted suicide with people and grappling with it like ... almost halfway through?
I don't know what the plans for the webcomic are, but my guess is that they're setting up for much, much later on in a way that I didn't. This was always a background element, something that informed Juniper's character, not so much the suicide attempt as the feeling that came after, this understanding that yes, he did want to live, a heady, energizing kind of "I guess I don't have the way out that I thought I did" sort of thing.
So I take it as a good sign that this is the opening line. It points toward them understanding where they're going.
One of the other major adaptational changes is that they signpost Arthur's death with a memorial on his desk:
When I was getting pages, this was one of the first moments where I was like "yes, this is a good change, visual storytelling to replace my walls of text, flows and offers indirect information". I am very happy with the adaptation thus far, and stuff like this is what I love about adaptation in general, the need to grapple with the strengths and weaknesses of the medium.
Content Rating
Worth the Candle gets grim and dark in places. It at least attempts to grapple with serious things. The webcomic is rated Young Adult, and I'm not sure how they're going to handle the later stuff, but I can talk about how they're handling the stuff now, and what I think it means overall.
First, there's a lot less swearing. Worth the Candle in its entirety uses the word "fuck" ~1200 times. Granted, this is over the course of 1.6 million words, so a fuck density of one every 1.3k words, and some of those are in the verb "soulfuck" rather used descriptively, as exclamations, etc. My personal feeling is that this doesn't matter basically at all. I don't think I notice when someone isn't swearing unless they're using corny substitutions or trying to get cute with it.
Second, the violence is toned down in that YA way, where they're still showing much of the same things, just not with the same level of visceral detail. When a Marvel comic has someone thrown into a wall, they're no blood or snapping of bones or mangling of bodies, at least if it's a comic at a certain rating (I have definitely read some edgy 90s comics that do go hard on the violence). I think, overall, that this isn't my preference, which might be obvious from the way that I try to write fight scenes and such. But I'm also sort of inured to this toning down of violence, since it's omnipresent.
Third, there's the sex stuff, and ... well, it hasn't come up in the webcomic yet. I think I laid out my reasoning for why I think sex scenes should be written/included in Why to Write a Sex Scene, but the brief version is that sometimes you're showing how characters relate to each other, what they think of each other, and the sex scene shouldn't always just be something that's skipped over and left to the reader's imagination, because things happen, there are moments of communication, it can and does develop a relationship in the moment rather than after the fact. Plus a little titillation is, in my opinion, usually good.
The great thing about writing webfic is that no one can stop you from just including three solid chapters of hardcore pornography in the middle of your story. I have never done that, but I could is the point, and I would only get complaints from people who have no power over me. That same freedom doesn't exist here, and ... yeah, it makes my heart sink a little bit.
Fourth, there's some of the more mature content stuff, the topics that might not be broached. I don't know how they're handling that, so I reserve judgment, but I think my opinion is probably going to be "well, you do what you have to do", and if my version of the story is superior because there are no brakes, then I can be smugly superior about that.
Conclusion
This is already a fairly long post, and there are a few other things that I could have remarked on, but I think this is all the most interesting stuff.
Alright, just one real quick: Arthur is adaptationally more attractive, though this is also how Juniper sees Arthur and I think by the standards of webcomics, this is actually sort of necessary. Most of the flashback cast is not described until much later on, and by then you kind of know and understand them from the things they've said, if you can keep track of them. Many of the flashbacks are nearly disembodied. But if you're showing Arthur early, then the first impression he's going to make is in his appearance, and that really anchors people.
So overall, I am happy with the adaptation. There are challenges ahead, and I'm thankful that I'm not the one who needs to tackle those challenges.
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Vide Noir's dual narrative structure
All right, here it is, me making good on at least one of my meta threats. Lord Huron's album Vide Noir can be interpreted as an album with two parallel, contrasting narratives - that of the lead protagonist Buck Vernon, as well as that of Johnnie Redmayne.
Disclaimer: this is an interpretation I think is pretty sound and well-reasoned, but I make no claim to any of this being proven canon information.
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For those unfamiliar or who need a reminder, the primary narrative is this: the year is 1967, and we start near the end of Buck's journey, as he awakens from being black-brained (Lost in Time and Space). Having just suffered an overdose on the drug vide noir, his memories are slow to return to him, but return they do - his fiancee, Leigh/Lee Green (from here on Leigh but both spellings have been used), left him without a word one night, and he decided to follow, heading west to Los Angeles from their home town of Detroit, Michigan. He's been struggling to find her, checking every bar in the city in case she was booked to sing at one as her move was the result of her chasing her dream of becoming a singer. He doesn't remember a lot about himself, really, after that overdose, but he remembers her, and his love for her makes him desperate to find her.
We're then taken back to the night he left to find her (Never Ever) and his journey is mostly linear from there - he meets a fortune teller, Lady Moonbeam, who tells him that pursuing Leigh will end in his ruin, but he refuses to accept her advice and pushes on (Ancient Names I & II). He laments that he's been some kind of fuckup, that maybe he chased Leigh away through his own behavior, but that he still loves her and begs for her to return (Wait By the River). At some point around here he also learns of the drug vide noir and contemplates using it himself for clues.
(Note that unlike in the movie, in the album, nothing suggests that Buck suffered from a murder attempt by Z'Oiseau's henchmen but that instead he may have overdosed himself in an attempt to find Lee. However, there's plenty of reason to suspect that the film is the canon interpretation here anyway and the henchmen kidnapping Buck just doesn't make for a song I guess.)
One way or another, he winds up black-brained, where some deep existential truths of the universe are revealed to him (Secret of Life - namely that everyone and everything dies in the end, and that a human life is brief, fleeting, and ultimately meaningless within the context of the universe as a whole). He somehow reawakens rather than dying (Back from the Edge) and, again, understands that nothing he does will ever matter, has never mattered*, but that *even though* he's suffered greatly already on this quest, he's still committed to trying to find Leigh, pitting himself against that careless universe (The Balancer's Eye).
So he keeps searching (When the Night is Over) until he finds a clue, or a helping hand of some sort, that leads him on the right path to his beloved Leigh (Moonbeam). We get one more reminder of the forces at work here - vide noir is some awful stuff, it nearly killed him, Leigh herself is hooked on it now, it shows you terrible truths and nightmares beyond human comprehension (Vide Noir) - and when all is said and done, as Buck thinks he's about to "rescue" Leigh from her fate and bring her back to his fantasy of a perfect happy life together, she rejects him. He came all this way through time and space, and she doesn't love him at all in the end (Emerald Star).
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I consider this the primary narrative here because it makes use of all the songs on the album, it has a clear start and ending and a mostly linear structure, and the album basically serves as a soundtrack to Buck's fool's errand. The film agrees - every scene is centered around his journey, after all. But we have context from Lord Huron's other albums, as well as the lyrics and musical stylings of multiple songs on Vide Noir, that show us that Buck isn't necessarily the only narrator on this album. Strange Trails, of course, came out three years prior, and features songs by multiple fictional bands performing songs which serve as narration for a diverse cast of characters. Unlike on Strange Trails, where each track has a writer or band specifically named and assigned to it as well as a character narrative, Vide Noir does not give us such conclusive information, but we can still put clues together to understand at least some of who the in-universe performers might be on Vide Noir.
Most likely, multiple of these songs are by the Buck Vernon Band - this is pretty obvious. Buck's semi-autobiographical music is all over Strange Trails, usually referencing a girl he loves, sometimes referencing that the girl left him, often giving her different names, all starting with L (Fool For Love's "Lily", and "Louisa").
But the other band that we can easily identify as performers on Vide Noir are the Phantom Riders. For those who need an introduction, this is the band composed of four members of the World Enders gang, with Dale Redmayne at the helm as lead writer. They were seen previously on Strange Trails as well, with banger surf/rockabilly hits like Hurricane, Until the Night Turns, and The World Ender. As a storytelling tool, they are primarily brought in to tell us about the man-turned-undead horror entity known as The World Ender himself, and then otherwise mostly we get their songs about Dale's brother Johnnie Redmayne, who is introduced to us in Strange Trails as a fun-loving and presumably fairly young guy, a thrillseeker and hedonist, who lives for the moment as if the world could end any day. The Buck Vernon Band jumps in between some of these songs with an interjection to tell us that wait, Johnnie is dead, or was, but he got back up. In Dead Man's Hand, Buck speculates that Johnnie could have been murdered or may have killed himself, accidentally or intentionally, upon first seeing him. It's in Vide Noir that we actually learn more about the circumstances of Johnnie's death.
Before we get to that, let's first identify which Vide Noir songs are by the Phantom Riders. This isn't all that hard to do. Any song that references The World Ender is presumably theirs - that gives us Secret of Life right away ("I sit alone in the dark, and I try to remember the words you spoke when you summoned the Ender"). This is reinforced in the Alive From Whispering Pines webseries, episode 423 - Secret of Life, when played, shows a skeleton prop the band has jokingly referred to as Cobb Avery on their social media posts in the past, and after the song ends in this episode, the tune continues in a slowed and distorted fashion through a clip of a WBUB movie version of Dead Man's Hand showing Johnnie rising from the pavement when Buck is about to bury him.
Ancient Names Parts I and II are presumably written by the same band as a two-part song. In the Vide Noir film, the Phantom Riders are performing Part II in the underground club. Additionally, in Alive From Whispering Pines episode 426, after Tubbs Tarbell is done reminiscing about the band and their nihilism, Ancient Names Part II is the next song covered - and often in this series, the structure of the segments between songs are intentional and related to either the song they precede or the song they follow, so it's likely that the placement of the Phantom Riders' appearance followed by a track they're associated with is meant to help confirm them as the performers. In addition, Ancient Names Part I references a fortune teller, and we know from the film that the fortune teller in question, Lady Moonbeam, is associated with the World Enders and knows the Redmaynes.
The last track on Vide Noir that is most likely theirs is the title track, Vide Noir. We have two points of evidence for this - one lyrical ("Many evils have I enjoyed, prowling the night raising hell with the boys" which feels like a pretty direct reference to the World Enders' nighttime violence) and one musical - the main melody of Vide Noir is identical to that of Ancient Names (and Fortune Teller's Theme, actually). In Strange Trails, using the same melody for multiple songs was an easy way to tie Frankie Lou's songs together, and here we can see that it ties two Phantom Riders tracks together directly, indicating that not only are they both by the same band, but that Vide Noir is a followup to Ancient Names part I, in which our fortune teller did warn us things would go very, very wrong.
(And besides all of that, the Phantom Riders tracks on Vide Noir all tend to be similar in musical style - psychedelia-flavored garage rock with a heavy bass line, in contrast to other songs on the album.)
With those songs identified, we should also be aware of just how much Lord Huron seem to love their dual narratives. In Strange Trails, we have a really concrete example of this with The Night We Met. This song was in-universe written by Frankie Lou, presumably about her doomed relationship with Z'Oiseau and how much she wishes she had never met him to begin with (as she echoes in her dialogue in the Vide Noir film when speaking to Buck in her dressing room). However, the music video for this song shows not Frankie and Z'Oiseau, but instead Buck, driving west, while reflecting on his own failure to keep Leigh, wishing he could go back in time and fix things, and meanwhile kind of hallucinating her as he goes. In the album Long Lost, we get another dual narrative in I Lied, which is performed by Donny and Midge but is also sung by Leigh in Vide Noir, foreshadowing her breakup with and lack of love for Buck. There are certainly other dual narratives in both of those albums to be found as well - so what we should keep in mind here is that often, songs can be written and performed by a character or band in order to narrate for themselves or someone close to them, but that just as in our real-world movie soundtracks or our favorite character playlists on spotify, those songs can be applied to other characters in different (but somewhat similar) situations than the ones they were written for.
So! We have four Phantom Riders tracks on Vide Noir, all of which were presumably not written originally in-universe about Buck Vernon, because why would they be, Buck and the World Enders only briefly cross paths and at the very least we know that Ancient Names Part II was written well before he ever met them. Instead, it makes the most sense if like the bulk of the Phantom Riders songs, these tracks serve Johnnie's narration instead.
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If that's the case, what does that give us? Winding around and through Buck's journey is this second storyline. Johnnie Redmayne, having used and enjoyed vide noir himself abundantly ("I had a vision tonight that the world was ending" as one probable example), decides it's time to get his hands on bulk quantities so as to get the Enders in on controlling the flow of the drug in LA rather than letting Z'Oiseau maintain a monopoly, thereby also increasing revenue for the members of the gang.
It's Moonbeam who warns him to knock it off first. We know, thanks to the film, that he'd spoken to her at some point about his plans to investigate the source of the drug at Tobey's arcade and try to get his hands on some to sell. Whatever his exact plan was, in Ancient Names Part 1, Moonbeam warns him that pursuing this is going to get him killed. Vide noir isn't just a drug, it's something extremely dangerous, tied to dangerous people, and he needs to get away from "her" (and note that frequently throughout music history, drugs have been personified as a "her" or an unnamed lover, whether for poetic reasons or to evade censorship that might come from talking directly about drug use - and Cursed, off Strange Trails, is one more in-universe example, where "her" refers both to Leigh Green and to drug use, specifically vide noir).
Immediately afterward, Ancient Names Part 2, in addition to serving as a very classic sort of World Enders nihilism anthem, can easily be interpreted as Johnnie saying "fuck that, I do what I want, you only live one life anyway and even if it kills me, I want to make my mark before I go out." Death is something hypothetical - sure, it'll get him some day, it gets everyone, and maybe Moonbeam is even right, but he isn't going to let her warning stop him.
On Strange Trails, Buck and Johnnie cross paths at Dead Man's Hand. On this album they only cross thematically, and the pivotal moment of intersection might be Secret of Life. This song may be the point at which Buck learns some forbidden secrets revealed by taking vide noir as discussed above, but its lyrics speak a lot more specifically to Johnnie's experience, implying some connection between him, vide noir, and the World Ender.
It may be that as we see with Buck in the film, perhaps Johnnie too has suffered the effects of being black-brained prior to taking it due to the time and space-bending effects of the drug (notice, for example, in Strange Trails we get Johnnie's story in a scrambled chronological order) and here he's confronted with the harsh truths of what those past visions of his possible future mean for him: he has been set on a path that is no longer avoidable due to his eventual future overdose. So perhaps it's at this point that he acknowledges that he is going to die sooner rather than later and that his life and death will not have meant anything to the greater cosmos, but this information, which was new to Buck, is not something Johnnie fears. Johnnie is hardly new to this point of view. He's seen past echoes of the knowledge imparted by vide noir throughout his life, both in his future visions of the end of the world (again see Until The Night Turns) and in the knowledge passed on through other World Enders, including their own motto ("The fair, the brave, the good must die", or in Secret of Life here, "The darkness comes for all of us").
(As an aside, there's still a lot to unravel with Secret of Life that I haven't touched on here. It's a fascinating song with some really mysterious lyrics. I've speculated at length in the LH discord about some additional interpretations this song could yield but won't veer off topic here.)
And yet despite what looks like a very certain and dire end, Johnnie maintains hope that perhaps he, too, will live past this. Because if Cobb Avery did, why can't he? This is part of the gang's core mythos - their founder is a dead man. He clawed his way back out of the grave for revenge, they thought it was just so fucking cool that he was unkillable that they had to join him, and together they dismantled the Winthrop Corporation, one murder at a time. When the police finally caught up to him, they lynched him - but the noose did nothing, for he was already dead, and now in the form of a skeleton, he called the gang to his side (see Strange Trails: The World Ender comic book). In the ensuing chaos, he flees, the gang heads west and relocates to east Los Angeles, and in the time contemporary with the events of Vide Noir, he is still present among them but this appears to be unknown to the public (Daily Trails prop, by Kim Berens, used in both Vide Noir and Alive From Whispering Pines where it was modified to Ten years later).
Whether The World Ender is readily visible to and known by most members of the gang at this point is unknown, but we know that those who were black-brained can see him (in the film, Buck sees him approaching, bumps into him, plunges into a hallucination of his own future, and when he comes too, the Ender is gone). Given the Secret of Life lyrics, it's reasonable to guess that Johnnie at least can see the World Ender just fine and one way or another, in speaking with him and in conjunction with consuming vide noir, has learned enough secret knowledge to make some kind of choice - and this is what later enables him, too, to drag his way back to the world of the living.
Fate catches up to Johnnie and as we learn in the film, his death was at the hands of Z'Oiseau's henchmen for trying to gain access to dealing in vide noir. Like Buck, he is black-brained - forced to swallow enough of the drug to kill him. And so the track Vide Noir opens with the Fortune Teller's Theme previously heard in Ancient Names Part 1, and that tune is woven through the track - Moonbeam's "I warned you, I told you so" to both of these fools who disregarded her advice. Although, again, the lyrics are clearly meant primarily to narrate for Johnnie - "Many evils have I enjoyed, prowling the night raising hell with the boys, getting high on a pure black void" sounds a lot more like what Johnnie gets up to than Buck. We are given a glimpse of his last words and final thoughts as life slips away and his consciousness is sent straight to the final edge of the cosmos.
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So ultimately, this is what we're left with:
Vide Noir is an album that tells the story of Buck Vernon, whose fiancee has left him. His journey culminates in a near-brush with death, in finding Leigh, and in learning that she does not love him and that he's nothing, his life is worth nothing more than dust and that none of it mattered or will ever matter, that once he eventually dies he will vanish and be forgotten in time.
Vide Noir also tells the story of Johnnie Redmayne, who for once tries to do something that isn't just for his own hedonistic pleasure but that might actually help bring in money to support his friends and family, but he's too headstrong and impulsive to listen to the warnings he's given, and is killed in the attempt.
One lives who probably shouldn't have and comes out at rock bottom and now has to work out how to move on from here, and one dies a nihilist who should presumably just accept the inevitability of death, but has the knowledge and absolute stubborn determination to enable his eventual return, following in the footsteps of Cobb Avery.
And what happens to both of them afterward? Well, we don't know. Hopefully some day (SOON?? BEN PLEASE) we'll get the opportunity to find out!
#lord huron#vide noir#strange trails#buck vernon#johnnie redmayne#you guys I just blasted a lot of this onto the page over the course of two nights and have only re-read it a couple times fyi#this is stuff I've been ruminating on for well over a year now and wanted to put down in writing for sharing and input#again let me be clear that this is my personal interpretation and while I think it's well-supported it is not exactly confirmed canon lmao#so don't treat it like gospel#I'm gonna go eat food now and nurse this headache
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I think that is a really interesting speculation and it doesn't seem to me that unlikely, especially since Amanda loves Caitlyn and I presume she was heavily involved in the culmination of their relationship. I can easily picture her making time for that.
It would also make a lot of sense with the themes of the show, especially for those of us who see some visual parallels between Caitlyn and Silco this season and Silco was a character heavily shaped by trauma.
That said, irregardless of what happened between Jinx and Caitlyn, I doubt it will change the critique of people who critique her from the "systemic" POV. Who approach it as "everybody has trauma, but because Caitlyn is in such an exalted and oppressor position, she just has completely different levers to pull, ways to make other people suffer for it than Jinx or Vi have". Because Caitlyn can just terrorize an entire city without even having to put in much personal effort. (and just because the show might not be about political issues doesn't change that certain people will insist that it should be understood that way, regardless of whether the characters or the writers understand it like that. ie just because maybe the writers didn't mean a save the damsel or fridge the girlfriend story to be sexist doesn't mean that people will see it as being part of a larger sexist narrative)
I feel like in the end, the people who already sympathize with her will sympathize even more deeply with her and the ones who don't likely won't be impressed just because Caitlyn's trauma was slightly worse than just losing her mother.
(which in the end is maybe another parallel to Silco, having had genuine trauma in his past and genuinely loving Jinx doesn't magically make him not a bad person anymore, so why would it be different for Caitlyn if she had genuine trauma and genuinely loves Vi)
The more interesting aspect is probably the character level. If Vi hears about it and she loves Cait and she sympathizes, does that mean that Vi will never forgive Jinx or never feel comfortable around her again?
From a shippy point of view I just don't think that it can work for Caitlyn to tell her story and for Vi and stand up and make excuses for Jinx. So the only thing that could work would be if Caitlyn got to a point where she learned to sympathize with Jinx (ie no longer blame Jinx because she sees it as Jinx having a mental illness).
I just have a hard time picturing that on a show as violent as this they can really do much to "impress" people. I just think that there's a low chance that they would go for something like rape. I guess Caitlyn could reveal that she has scars on her body that are underneath her clothes (which certainly would be a good setup for CaitVi in my ways), though I personally that doesn't seem like Jinx's typical modus operandi? I guess there could have been something related to drowning (to parallel Silco) or gas (as this is something that has been done by several characters on the show by now). But just Jinx saying cruel things to her and dragging her around is not going to impress the Cait-dislikers.
Even if it's still going to be a powerful moment for Caitlyn and Vi, less for how what Jinx did was particularly awful, but for how Caitlyn kept it bottled up (with the timeskip at least a couple of weeks, maybe months) and is finally opening up about it to Vi. (could maybe fit nicely into Cait having issues being emotional with Vi/always pulling back, back in s2Act1)
Basically, I assume the emotional performance will be excellent and it's going to be serve as a great and satisfying explanation for Caitlyn x Vi shippers as to why Caitlyn broke up with Vi in Act 1 (and pacifiy the people whose main anger against Cait was that she hurt Vi). But it might not move the needle for people who think Caitlyn sucks for using The Grey on Zaunites.
In this interview Amanda said something that caught my attention. Do you think that in ep 8 Caitlyn will talk about what Jinx did to her when she kidnapped her? Bc Amanda said that in ep8 there's a Caitlyn line that will make us say "Oh so that's why"
Amanda means this line that Cait is going to say will let us know why she was so mad at Jinx in ep 3 and how Caitlyn went completely blind when she saw Jinx in her target and bc of her anger and also her fear and terror of Jinx, Cait has completely lost control of herself in this moment. (there is someone who made a post on this topic @loycos and talked about what happened to Cait in ep3 and how Cait didn't see Vi or Isha in front of her bc of her anger and her deeply terrified of Jinx) I mean look at her eyes and the expression on her face, yes she looks angry but she is also terrified.
This is a natural reaction. I mean for example, imagine that you see something that scares you so much. There are two reactions, either flight or fight, and these reactions always come without a person thinking. At this moment the person is only thinking about getting rid of the thing that scares him, and he does not focus on what is around him bc these strong feelings control him.
Anyway, what makes me sure that this scene might happen in ep 8 (Caitlyn talking about what happened to her when Jinx kidnapped her) is Reed Shannon (Ekko VA) comment when he saw the drawing and said "I thought this was a leak" Reed might be joking as usually, but why this particular drawing and why he chose this word "leak".
But honestly if this scene actually happened and we knew what happened to Caitlyn, it would make us understand more why she was so angry and scared of Jinx when she saw her in front of her and it would also explain why she literally went blind and didn't see anything around her at that moment, neither the child nor Vi, all Cait saw was Jinx, she just wants to bring down Jinx. I mean look at these pictures she is so terrified of her
Again Caitlyn's insistence on killing Jinx in the scene in ep 3 was not only motivated by revenge on Jinx, but also out of fear and terror of her.
And not like those idiots who say that Caitlyn wanted to kill the child on purpose to get to Jinx or even say that she wanted to kill Vi too, or bc she's a cop and the cops kill children and blah blah... That's really ridiculous and annoying!! Bc if we focus a little bit on the period that Caitlyn went through we will see that Cait didn't have time to process all these things that happened to her, from the torture that happened to her when Jinx kidnapped her, then the killing of her mother, then the attack on the memorial ceremony. (I know that Jinx is not the reason, but from Caitlyn's perspective she thinks that Jinx and the Silco followers are the reason)
And in the end I hope that no one comes who doesn't like the post bc I am defending Caitlyn's character. If you don't like this character I don't care, there is no need for you to write a stupid comments. Please don't tire your little fingers if you don't like my post block me this is better for you and me. I will not waste my time responding to you, I will delete your comment and block you immediately.
I am a student at the Faculty of Psychology, and when I talk about trauma and the interpretation of human behavior and reactions, I know well what I am talking about. Bc most of the characters' reactions in this show are very realistic and need to explanation, writers do not want to explain everything in the show, they want viewers to occupy their mind and explain the events themselves (And I still repeat the point that the show focuses on the development and complexity of the characters more than anything else, and does not focus on solving political issues, the show is not about politics, okay)
And btw some people ask me about my opinion of Jinx's character, I have no problem with her character at all, I like her and I understand her condition, when I criticize her actions, it doesn't mean I hate her.
One day I may do a post about her character development and her condition, but I see that there are many posts about her and her actions, and I feel like I won't say anything new about her. Unlike the rest of the characters like Vi and Caitlyn, there are not many people talking about them. And maybe I will make a Viktor post bc I really like the development of his character. When the show ends, maybe I will.
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