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aelaer · 4 years

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The Blood in My Veins: Pt 4

Heyyyy I'm back. Now that one of my big fic projects is done/being rolled out I can concentrate on getting this finished (as well as other prompts). Here are the earlier parts if you can't remember what happened in this long-running prompt fic, since my last update was like, the summer.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Prompt (via @ironstrangeprompts that I can’t tag for whatever reason qq): Kidnapped to play doctor for a still unseen other prisoner; Stephen realizes there is only one person on the planet who would have palladium in their blood.

The Warnings: Okay guys, I want to cover all bases for this part and all parts henceforth. The bad guy I've written here really really sucks. He's a complete asshole. Part of his assholeness can include behaviors such as racism, sexism, homophobic remarks, religious bigotry, and overall just being a terrible human being. This terrible human being is not a typical representative of his nation/culture and is very thankfully fictional. There's plenty of Canon-Typical Violence around, too. All of the above are not be in this specific part but could be in future parts (I'm writing this as I go so I truly don't know, I just know he’s a dickwad). I didn't know this section was gonna happen until I finished Part 2, for instance, otherwise I'd have put a note at the beginning. I'd consider the fic a heavy teen fic, if you're looking for a rating, so it shouldn't get to graphical violence beyond what you'd see in high teen rated content. Also, there's going to be Medical Procedures in the future, though more clinical rather than graphic. Hopefully that covers everything, please ask me anything if you have a question.

I always put these longer writings on tumblr into "read more" cuts, but the mobile app does not always work correctly if you're looking at the original post from my tumblr, so I apologise for the length if you're on the app and viewing the original and said cut is not working. Still unbetaed, all errors are mine.

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Part Four: Seeing Red Again

Another three days passed with little change in Stephen’s schedule. He went for his sleep shift at 12:30 a.m. New York time, and was woken up by one of the others between 5:20 to 5:30 a.m. It wasn't enough time for even two full complete sleep cycles, but everyone there—perhaps with exception to Steffen Baar, who was a chemist—had gone through grueling schedules during medical school and residency. So they were, in some ways, used to it.

After waking up, he had fifteen minutes to shower, shave, and change into the clothing about his size, provided for by his captors. From there, he then got to work. His sleep shift ended about three hours before dinner came—about 8:30 a.m. New York time—and a small snack arrived at what he assumed was this place's midnight, but was 2 p.m. according to his watch. Breakfast came twelve hours after dinner, at 8:30 p.m. in New York, and he went to bed again half an hour after midnight. Apparently while he slept, another snack break came for those awake.

The one small blessing in all of this was that the people holding them realized the power of caffeine and provided black tea and coffee every time they brought them food. He didn't think there were any cameras in the showers or toilets, either, which was—hopefully true. There was nothing obvious and, truth be told, he didn't really want to look much further for evidence.

Throughout his waking day, Stephen largely helped prep samples for blood analysis. He tried to strategize with Summer about how to best utilize their resources, should a surgery be required, but they had little to go on. They had yet to receive better X-rays of their patient—of Tony Stark, which still baffled Stephen—so much of their planning was about logistics.

"Doctors in the United States are required to complete a surgical rotation in their third year of med school," Stephen said, "so Jada will know basic surgical procedures. Do you need to do the same in the UK?"

"Yes," Summer answered. "All doctors go through the two-year Foundation Programme which always includes training in general surgery. So Dr Mahajan will be able to assist us as well."

"They can serve as our nurses and techs," Stephen muttered. "But what about Dr Baar?"

Summer pursed her lips together. "No medical training—but I would rather have him on hand than not. If we said we can't use him…"

Stephen grimaced and nodded. "Point. He can certainly hold a retractor." He blew out a breath. "We'll need a heart-lung machine. Those aren't easy to come by."

"None of this machinery is," she pointed out, jutting her chin to the advanced machinery scattered around the room. "I don't think that will be an issue for us. Whoever these people are, they have resources."

He pursed his lips together. "We also need an anesthesiologist."

She paused at that and sighed. "Yes. Yes, we need one of those. Unfortunately, I think we're going to be working with someone on their team if the surgery happens."

Stephen made a face. "What makes you think that?"

"When they first showed me the X-rays, I told them I would need another surgeon for the spinal area—you—and an anesthesiologist. They only spoke about finding me a surgeon, so they must have their own medical team that includes one."

He sighed. "Of course they do. He better be competent."

Summer shrugged. "Not much we can do about it. And there's not much more we can plan on this hypothetical surgery until I have better X-rays."

And so that ended that discussion and, three days later, there were no changes on that end. No new X-rays had come in, so both he and the other surgeon were stuck helping prepare samples and input data. And Stephen hadn't been so bored in years.

One wouldn't think that being captive would be boring, especially if one was doing medical work during that time. But when said medical work was repetitive lab work he hadn't done since med school? And doing it for about fifteen hours a day for three days straight with no music, no reading, no nothing to help bring some distraction or variety to his work? It was absolutely mind-numbing. A small part of him wasn't entirely sure if he could survive like this for—how long did Jada said Stark had to live without a cure or intervention? Two months? He couldn't do this for two months. He was going out of his mind after three days.

It was about halfway through his shift on the fourth day that he regretted ever thinking that he was bored.

He was typing up results from various tests performed by Jada when the door to the room was suddenly slammed open. Startled, Stephen immediately turned towards the sound, only to see five men enter, all of them with guns pointed to the rest of the room. Beside him, Jada immediately threw her hands on top of her head, and he quickly followed suit.

"Come quietly! Do not fight!" said one of the men. Stephen couldn't even begin to guess his accent; maybe it was Eastern European? Russian? Former Soviet bloc in Asia? Somewhere in that rather wide region of the world, which wasn't particularly helpful information considering there were some twenty to thirty countries there.

Summer was the doctor currently asleep, though looking over his shoulder, Stephen saw that she had woken up to the sound and was pushing herself up. But he couldn't look at her or the other doctors long as he was grabbed by one of the men and forced to walk. The gun the man carried quickly negated any ideas of retaliation.

They were led down a hall; he could see Steffen, Meera, and Jada in front of him, all being led in the same rough manner he was going through. The walk itself wasn't very long, perhaps a minute, but to Stephen it felt like every second was dragging. Despite his best efforts, his heart was starting to race at this new development.

The man with Steffen finally stopped in front of a door and unlocked it, then shoved the chemist inside. Within seconds, Stephen was at the door and being pushed forward himself. He took a quick look around, as much as he could without moving much: a large room with concrete walls and no windows, just like where he and the other doctors were being kept. Cot in the corner. Table with a computer and covered in bits of wires and electronics that he couldn't begin to label. Two other men armed with enormous guns—some sort of automatic rifles—and then one man who was crossing his arms and staring at him and his fellow doctors with a look that immediately put Stephen on edge. This man, this man radiated the air of a person in charge.

And then there was him. The famous Tony Stark, or Iron Man as he was calling himself these days. He looked like a former shadow of himself, being several pounds thinner and bearing a sickly pallor that Stephen immediately noticed, even during these circumstances.

A look of surprise was upon Stark's hollow face, but even as Stephen focused more upon him, it was quickly replaced by the cool anger of a man biting his tongue.

All five doctors were maneuvered to face Stark in a line before being forced to their knees. Stephen bit his lip to hold back a grunt of pain from his knees hitting the concrete floor.

"You say you are 'calling my bluff' with your medical team," said the man. He pushed himself off the wall and passed out of Stephen's line of sight. "Here they are." He started at Stephen's right as he went through the doctors. "Steffen Baar, chemist." A step closer. "Jada Ferguson, hematologist." Another step, and he heard Doctor Mahajan inhale sharply. "Meera Mahajan, pathologist."

Another step, and the man was behind him. To Stephen's utter horror, he felt cold metal press against the back of his head. "Stephen Strange, neurosurgeon." The metal then left his head and he heard another step. "Summer Weston, cardiothoracic surgeon." Another step, and he could see the man in the corner of his eye again, this time on his left.

Tony Stark kept his lips pressed in a tight line as their captor went through the line. When he finished, the billionaire swallowed and looked at them all. "Good job keeping me alive this long, docs," he said.

"Not good enough, Stark," the man snapped. "Their solution is only a band aid. They give you but a few more weeks. They are called the best doctors in the world, and they cannot yet make a cure?"

Stephen forcefully held back his retort regarding the man's utter ignorance. It was an outright miracle they found any sort of solution as quickly as they did to delay the spread!

Stark, it seemed, agreed with him, and had no such reservations with holding back. "That's insane, Yusifov. It takes teams of doctors months, if not years to create what you're looking for."

He couldn't see it, but Stephen could almost feel the sneer from their captor, this Yusifov. "In that case, you don't need this many doctors, do you?" A couple steps and he was again behind Stephen, further to the right. "I'm no doctor, but as far as I can tell, these two both look at blood and try to fix the problem. Neither of them fixed it, not fully. So who do you want to keep, Stark? The black American or the Indian Brit? One less woman won't make a difference."

Stephen dared a glance to his right when he heard quick breathing. Doctor Mahajan was visibly shaking and starting to hyperventilate; to her right, Doctor Ferguson was quiet, but her lips trembled and tears pricked her eyes.

Stark stepped forward, and several guns rose at the action. He stopped but held his ground, raising his hands. "Don't do this."

"Why not?" the man retorted. "You refuse to work because you are dying. They have failed you and one will pay the price. Perhaps both; they are both from lesser races."

As Stephen processed the fact that he heard a comment like that in fucking 2010, Doctor Mahajan's breathing accelerated into full on hyperventilation. His medical mind noticed it immediately.

But another was quicker to the draw. "Breathe through your nose, Meera," Summer said lowly. "Try to inhale for one-one thousand, then exhale through pursed lips. You can—"

"Shut up!"

Doctor Weston was smacked on the back of her head hard enough to send her sprawling to the floor.

And Stephen snapped.

Now, if one were to ask Doctor Stephen Strange, he would by no means consider himself heroic or noble. His role as a doctor was one of service, but even within his relatively short time as a neurosurgeon, he had already gained a prestige that recognized his rising star and already people in the medical community were considering him in the top ranks of neurosurgeons. Soon, demand for his expertise would be large enough for him to have the option to turn away those who weren't worth his time, and he felt not a lick of guilt for that. His skills were valuable.

But to hear this brute of a man first throw slurs at two of the most brilliant women—no, the most brilliant doctors—in their fields followed by an outright assault on the other caused a protectiveness Stephen hadn't felt since his sister's death to completely overtake him. He saw red.

He leaped up at Yusifov in a fiery anger, no particular idea in mind except stop him from hurting anyone rushing through his head. At this point there was little thought, only adrenaline and a near primal fury running through his veins. It wasn't like him to be so hot-headed; he was a man who kept his cool under the most stressful of circumstances. But perhaps several days of poor sleep combined with the stress of the situation finally got to him. When he thought about it in the aftermath, even he would admit he had no idea what he was thinking.

It was a spur-of-the-moment decision he would come to regret.

In one moment he managed to knock the pistol out of Yusifov's hands and punched him in the face. He recognized screaming, shouting, fighting in the noises behind him, but he was focused on his own target.

Stephen hit him twice more before someone threw an arm around his neck and dragged him back and began to choke him. He clawed at the arm, which did nothing, but then he aimed his heel down right to the sensitive part of his attacker's instep. The man grunted in pain and the grip around his neck loosened.

A shot shattered through the enclosed space, causing Stephen to freeze in surprise—and that proved to be his downfall. He saw Yusifov raising his pistol just before he was whipped across the face with the weapon. The hit threw him off balance and he fell to the floor and lay there for a second, stunned. He felt wetness on the side of his head.

As Stephen attempted to push himself up, a kick to his back sent him back to the floor. An involuntary grunt of pain escaped him. He closed his eyes, pausing for breath, but was given little time to recover as he was grabbed by both arms and dragged up to his knees. From his new position, he could see the rest of the room once more, and Stephen's heart skipped a beat at what was before him.

There were several alarming sights: Tony Stark on his knees just like him, nose bloodied. One of the gunmen near Stark with a screwdriver sticking in his neck and very much dead. Summer in the corner of the room, holding a shaking Meera against her chest.

And Doctor Steffen Baar on the ground, bleeding out from his stomach as Jada desperately tried to stem the blood flow with her sweater. The red dripped through the fabric and onto the concrete.

Stephen felt ill. He instinctively reached forward towards Steffen, to try and help, but the grip on his arms tightened and kept him in place.

Stark was the one to speak first. "Let them help him. I won't fight further. I'll do what you ask."

Yusifov came back into Stephen's line of sight as he stepped in front of him, though his gaze was on Stark. He said to the engineer, "You killed one of my men. A life for a life—that is fair, wouldn't you say?"

"He did nothing," Stark hissed, pulling against the hands that held him down. Stephen could see the men pull him back and tighten their grip in response. "And he's needed. You wouldn't have brought him here otherwise."

"He didn't do anything," Yusifov agreed, then turned to Stephen. "This one did." He then sent a sharp kick into Stephen's stomach, causing him to double over in pain as far as the men holding him allowed. He almost missed the next statement. "And I should kill him for it. But the surgeon will be needed. The chemist, though? He failed to make a cure for your ailment with a month of time, and you don't have much longer to live, Stark. The chemist failed, and at this point, he's a waste of medical resources."

Then Yusifov nodded at one of his men, and he grabbed Jada by the arm and yanked her up to her feet.

"No—please, no, don't do this!" she shouted as she was dragged away from Steffen. Their captors ignored her and Yusifov walked up to the wounded man. He aimed his pistol at Steffen's head.

"Don't do this!" Stark shouted.

A shot rang through the room. A loud sob came from the corner before it was muffled. Stephen's ears rang, half deafened from the sound. His stomach churned; he felt like he was going to vomit. He hung his head and closed his eyes, trying to breathe slow breaths through his nose.

All he could smell was blood. He forcefully suppressed his gag reflex.

Stephen missed whatever conversation came next, too busy trying to calm his breathing, trying not to throw up, and not having the energy to make out the words beyond the ringing in his ears. But then the world was moving as he was pulled to his feet and shoved out of the room, leaving behind Tony Stark and the body of Doctor Steffen Baar.

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I was stuck on what I wanted to do with this part with a handful of ideas and consulted my beta for ideas. She suggested death which I wasn't even thinking of because I'm very bad at killing off characters. I blame her fully :P

Tag list (just let me know if you want to be added/removed with a comment - still not on AO3!): @sobeautifullyobsessed, @tashacumberbitch, @babywarg, @nishtha3012, @ragingstillness, @walkin-in-the-cosmos (I think the reason I can’t tag you is because you’ve flagged your tumblr for sensitive media, possibly), @lafourmii20, @asexualchemist, @iveneverbeenmorestressedinmylife, @oo0-will-of-the-wisp-0oo, @animefanfreak45, @rulerofthefandomsnow, @killaspyglass, @renlybaratheon-tyrell, @symmetria42, @kay-lock-key-lock

#tony stark #stephen strange #avengers fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu #prompt fill #my writing #my fanfiction

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thinkingaboutyoungroyals · 6 years

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We Keep This Love In A Photograph

(This one-shot request is from an anon and is based on some of my headcanons. This is also available to read on AO3. Hope you like it, anon!)

Locker doors opened and shut. Feet shuffled against the cold but clean linoleum floor. Students chattered left and right, hugging, giving each other high-five’s, and exchanging stories from their summer vacation. A couple expressed their lament about the end of the summer, but others were thrilled that they could see their friends every day again.

Amidst the throng of excited students, Cyrus stood in front of his locker, eyes trained on the neatly-arranged books and notebooks. He made sure they were all arranged according to his class schedule for easy access. Satisfied, he turned his attention to the back of the locker door. It was bare for now.

Cyrus reached into his book bag and took out a mini pouch of fun-looking magnets, post-it notes, and a single photo.

With his lips jutting out in concentration, he neatly arranged the magnets in a line. Above them, he stuck 3 stacks of post-it notes in yellow, pink, and green. And above those, his class schedule, already color-coded. Then, he took the photo and placed it underneath the line of magnets before taking one of the said magnets (one with a bright smiley face on it) and used it to hold the photo in place.

TJ’s signature smirk stared back at him, his arm around a smiling Cyrus throwing a peace sign. They had taken it during one of their many dates at the park.

Cyrus sighed, sadly. God, he missed TJ.

He thought he would be able to handle his boyfriend’s absence in school a bit better. But, now that that day had finally come, he realized that it just felt too strange and odd not to have TJ waiting for him with a chocolate chocolate chip muffin or meeting him at his locker so he could walk Cyrus to homeroom.

His chest was all tight and he kind of felt like crying, but he had to try and remain strong. He promised TJ that he would be fine and he would do his best to be. He couldn’t rely on his boyfriend always being there to give him the push he needed. It was time to do that, himself.

“Hey, Cy! Ready for class?”

Andi and Buffy walked up to him, all smiles and cheer. But, seeing Cyrus’ face, their excitement turned worried.

“Are you okay?” Andi asked.

Cyrus cleared his throat and nodded, forcing a smile. “Of course! Why wouldn’t I be? I get to see you guys every day now!”

He turned back to his locker to grab his things for the day, still smiling. But, when he moved to close his locker, his eye caught the photo. His smile disappeared again and he sighed before he could stop himself.

Quick as lightning, Andi and Buffy sidled up to his sides and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, offering comfort.

“It’s okay, Cy,” Buffy said. “You guys will meet up again.”

“Yeah,” Andi agreed. “And for the record, I miss Jonah too. So I totally get it.”

Cyrus suddenly felt sheepish, realizing that she, too, must be feeling forlorn. Jonah had also graduated (though, he was going to a different high school than TJ.)

“Sorry,” he said to her, feeling guilty at forgetting.

“Don’t be,” Andi reassured him with a smile. “We all miss our boys.”

Buffy snorted. “Your boys. Not mine.”

Andi looked offended. “Oh, come on, admit it. You miss them too.”

“I miss that I can’t beat TJ on a one-on-one in front of the entire team anymore. That’s what I miss.”

At that, Cyrus felt himself laughing for the first time all morning. Buffy would never admit it but she probably missed her frenemy more than she realized. After all, no one else in school challenges her competitive side more than TJ did. (Except maybe Marty from the party but they didn’t talk about him much anymore.)

Like always, his friends always knew how to make him feel better.

“Thanks, guys,” he said to them, gratefully. “Let’s take a selfie to commemorate this day! We’re 8th graders!”

With a cheer, Cyrus took out his phone and handed it to Buffy, who had the longest arm among the three of them.

“Say, baby taters!” he said.

“Baby taters!”

Buffy took the photo and Cyrus immediately posted it online, captioning it: “8th Grade! Will be a blast with the GHC! #friendship #GoodHairCrew #Squadgoals.”

As he clicked on “post”, he got a sudden idea. He opened up a text window and typed, “First day of 8th grade! Feels weird without you. Miss you! *kiss emoji* *sad face emoji* *heart emoji*”

Satisfied, he sent it to TJ. He hoped it would make him smile on his first day of the oh-so-scary new environment called high school.

Taking one last glance at the photo on his locker and smiling at it, he closed the locker, grabbed his things, and linking arms with his best friends, they walked to class.

......................

A mile or so away, in Jefferson High School, TJ was also at his locker. He had taped his schedule to his locker door, taking the tip from Cyrus to color-code it so he could keep track of what he needed for the day.

A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips as he thought of his boyfriend, only a couple of miles away yet he felt even farther than just the 20-minute walk between the two schools. He knew he could still see Cyrus during weekends but it was different seeing him every day, walking him to class, eating lunch with him, and doing homework with him... and, maybe, sneaking in a kiss behind a locker door or a book when no one was looking.

Well, one thing was for sure, his first year of high school was not going to be fun. He had gone to Middle School with some of the students here, but it wasn’t like they really talked to him back then.

Before Cyrus, he was just an unapproachable bully whose only saving grace was being captain of the basketball team. And after he and Cyrus started hanging out and eventually dating, he mostly hung out with him and his friends. But, obviously, the GHC were all still in 8th grade and Jonah Beck had gone to a different school that had an ultimate frisbee team.

Great. He missed Cyrus AND made himself feel even more like a lonely loser who had no friends.

Just as he closed his locker door with a loud ‘slam’, his phone ping-ed with a text. It was from Cyrus.

His lips twitched into a smile as he opened it up. A photo of his Cyrus, Andi, and Buffy stared back at him. They were all smiles but he could see that his boyfriend’s smile wasn’t up to his ears.

“First day of 8th grade! Feels weird without you. Miss you! *kiss emoji* *sad face emoji* *heart emoji*”

TJ’s chest felt warm as he giddily texted back: “I miss you too. *cry emoji* *broken heart emoji*”

It was a simple exchange, but he felt his mood improve and he felt more ready to start the day. Cyrus had a way of doing that.

God, he really missed him.

........................

Every day, for the entire week, Cyrus would start his school day by staring at TJ’s smirking self on his locker door before taking out his cell phone and taking a selfie. Then, he would send the selfie to TJ with a cute text about missing him and how he hopes he has a nice day at school.

He kind of felt silly doing it so much, but he couldn’t help it. He just really, really, really missed TJ. They couldn’t even meet after school because apparently, high school meant having a lot of homework in the first week so TJ had been staying after school working with his Math teacher since they hadn’t found a tutor for him yet.

On Wednesday, TJ had sent him a photo of his locker. TJ’s middle school locker had been bare except for his books, but this time, it wasn’t. Tacked on to the metal door was his class schedule (specially color-coded by Cyrus himself), a pad of post-it notes, and, Cyrus’ favorite, a photo of the two of them. It was one they had taken at TJ’s graduation dinner at the Spoon with the GHC and Jonah. Cyrus had wrapped his arms around TJ’s neck and tucked his head onto his shoulder, both sporting tooth-y smiles as they looked at the camera. It was one of Cyrus’ favorite photos of the two of them and now, clearly, one of TJ’s as well.

Thursday came and went with nothing remarkable happening. Except for when he got hit in the head with a basketball during Gym class. He told TJ this, who, in turn, told him that they would continue working on his basketball skills.

(”I’m a lost cause! You know this!” Cyrus had said to him on the phone.

“No, you’re not, we can work on it,” TJ had replied, calmly.)

And before he knew it, it was Friday.

The week couldn’t have ended faster. Cyrus just wanted Friday to end so Saturday could start and he could see TJ again.

And, finally, finally, FINALLY, the final bell rang. Cyrus joined his fellow classmates in heading out the door and to their lockers. Andi fell into step beside him. Buffy didn’t have the same last class as them so they would have to meet her at her locker.

“So, are we going to the Spoon today?” Cyrus asked. “Since we survived our first day of 8th grade, I think it’s a cause for celebration with some baby taters, and milkshakes! What do you say?”

Andi flashed a smile. “Yes! Of course! Meet with Buffy at her locker?”

Cyrus gave a thumbs up and headed for his locker while Andi broke away so she could run to hers. (Why must their lockers be on separate floors?!)

Opening his locker, Cyrus’ eyes immediately locked on the photo there. He smiled, touching the image of TJ’s face, softly. He couldn’t wait to see him. Maybe he should text him and see if he could meet them at the Spoon later.

So, he took out his phone and sent a quick text before putting it away and gathering all of the things he needed for the weekend. He didn’t have much homework. His teachers were merciful this first week.

Ready for the weekend, Cyrus strolled through the halls towards the first floor where Buffy and Andi’s lockers were. Andi was already there, chatting with Buffy. She caught sight of him and waved him over.

“Hey, guys, ready to go?” he asked, smiling with excitement.

“Actually, I think I need a minute, I can’t find my Science textbook,” Buffy said, pouting.

“Oh, do you need help looking? Maybe you left it somewhere.”

“Yes, we’ll help, definitely!” Andi piped.

Buffy looked through her locker once before sighing. “I think I might have left it in the Science lab. Or in homeroom. Or maybe the library. I’m not sure.”

“Oh, I know! I can look in the Science lab and Buffy can look in homeroom. Cyrus, why don’t you look in the library?”

Cyrus furrowed his eyes in confusion, wondering why they just couldn’t look together. Nonetheless, he shrugged and headed back up the stairs towards the third floor, Buffy trailing behind him. The Science Lab was on the first floor and Buffy’s homeroom was on the second.

He scanned the library tables, in between bookshelves, and even rummaged through the “return” box, but Buffy’s science book was nowhere to be found. He thought about getting on his hands on the floor and check the gap under the bookshelves when Buffy sent him a text, saying that she found it in the lost and found and to meet them outside.

By then, there were barely any students left. A few had stayed behind for extracurriculars but otherwise, the halls were empty.

Finally, he made it out of the school and he was more than ready to just head to the Spoon and indulge. Just as they said, Buffy and Andi were waiting outside.

“Ready to go?” he asked them.

The two girls flashed each other mysterious looks before Andi looked down at her phone.

“Actually, can we wait here for about 2 more minutes?” she asked.

Cyrus frowned. “Why? Are we waiting for someone?”

“Yes, yes we are,” Buffy said with a smirk.

Confused, Cyrus just said, “O... kay?”

All of a sudden, Andi let out a squeal. “He’s here!”

“He?”

Buffy grinned. “Cyrus, turn around.”

Still confused, Cyrus obeyed, slowly turning on his heels. At first, he wasn’t sure who or what he was supposed to be looking at. But, the sight of familiar light brown hair bobbing in the air had him gasping in shock and surprise. He blinked several times to be sure he wasn’t imaging things.

But, sure enough, there was TJ, in the flesh, running up to them, his backpack hanging loosely from one shoulder.

Cyrus was no athlete but he felt his legs willingly move forward, breaking into a run towards the high schooler who had now stopped in his tracks and dropped his backpack on the ground. Cyrus, with all the little strength he had, practically leaped into TJ’s waiting arms, wrapping his own arms around the older boy’s neck.

“You’re here!” Cyrus cheered, happily as TJ’s hold on his waist tightened. “You’re here! I missed you! I missed you so much! You have no idea!”

At his ear, TJ let out a laugh, making Cyrus’ heart skip a beat. How he missed that sound too!

“I think I have a fair idea,” the older boy said, teasingly. “I missed you too, Underdog. Really, really missed you.”

Cyrus wasn’t sure how long they stood there, hugging. But, he was perfectly content staying like that. TJ’s hug. TJ’s smell. TJ’s little chuckles. They were all overwhelming his senses, he was afraid his knees would buckle.

But, all good things had to end, sometimes.

“Come on, you gross lovebirds! Aren’t we getting baby taters and milkshakes?” Buffy called out, sounding annoyed.

“Yeah! And Jonah is already there waiting!” Andi added, a bit more playfully.

Reluctantly, Cyrus pulled away from TJ, but refused to move more than a step away from him. He had missed him so, therefore, he would invade his personal space until Cyrus was satisfied.

Buffy pretended to throw up as she linked her arm through Andi’s and began to tow her away from the sickeningly sweet couple.

Meanwhile, TJ had picked up his backpack from the ground and swung it onto his shoulder. With a soft smile just for Cyrus, he held out his hand to him.

“Shall we, my kind sir?” he asked, politely.

Cyrus felt proud as he slipped his hand into it, linking their fingers. “Lead the way, my gallant knight.”

Together, they followed after the two girls, hands swinging playfully between them.

Even though Cyrus knew that they were going to be apart again, at that moment, all that mattered was that TJ was right there next to him, holding his hand. And he wasn’t planning on letting go any time soon.

#tyrus #tyrusdrabble

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thrashermaxey · 7 years

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Ramblings: Thoughts on Ellis, Staal, Bjugstad, Jost and more … (Mar 05)

Man, what could have been with Ryan Ellis this year. If he can stay healthy I think he can out-produce PK Subban and Roman Josi. Perhaps even hang up there with Karlsson, Klingberg, Burns and Gostisbehere. Three points Sunday gives him 20 in 27 and 11 points in his last eight games. Keep in mind that he needed a few games as a ‘training camp’ of sorts. At 27 he’s in his prime. The problem is, he missed 38 games this year, 11 last year, three the year prior and 24 the season before that. That’s 76 games missed in four seasons. Or 19 per season. But man, I’m very bullish on him next year if you don’t mind a 65-game player.

The Preds continue – and will continue – to screw with fantasy owners by sitting their regulars here and there. Sunday it was Craig Smith, Mike Fisher and Roman Josi. And they still won. With 17 games left and only Subban and Calle Jarnkrok having played them all, I think you can expect each regular in the lineup to miss two games down the stretch. Especially if they win anyway.

I think the Blackhawks knew what they were doing when they traded Ryan Hartman. I had never been impressed with him as a prospect, and then I was shocked when he became an NHL regular last year. I was shocked again when he began the season with five big games. But he’s since come back down to earth and now he’s just another depth guy. Really not impressed with what I’ve seen, nor the stat trends with him. The Hawks got a first-round pick and a solid prospect in Victor Ejdsell.

Tyson Jost has seen a huge jump in ice and PP time lately, averaging about 16 minutes per game the last four games. He’s seen 19 minutes of power-play time during those games in getting onto the top PP unit. Just one point though, but that kind of ice time makes him worth watching to see if things starting changing for him.

Don’t look now but the Panthers have won 13 of their last 16 games. Last week at the trade deadline, I had packed it in on the regular season in the most basic of my three keeper leagues (strictly points, with a playoff component, no positions). I’m the defending playoff pool champion in that league though and still have a good team, so I made a few trades from the bottom of my roster (20 players, so I considered the bottom five or six of them in terms of regular season current and upside). In the end, one of my decisions was to drop a 30-point Jason Spezza or a 45-point Keith Yandle. At the time, Dallas had a 74% chance of making the playoffs whereas Florida was at 34%. So I dropped Yandle. Dallas is now at 82.5% while Florida shot up to 75.7% with four wins since that moment so I’m already regretting the move.

Evgenii Dadonov has 16 points in his last 11 games. Puts him on pace to finish with 62 in 73. In the Guide I projected 45 in 76, and even in the Midseason Guide I projected 49 in 76. So this streak has really put him into a different category of fantasy player. It’s the decision to put him with Nick Bjugstad and Aleksander Barkov that’s put Dadonov, his line, and the Florida Panthers on a real good run here. It means that Jonathan Huberdeau can give Vincent Trocheck a top star to play with and create two very potent lines.

Bjugstad has 12 points in his last 14 games. It’s as if his last two injury-filled seasons put his career on hold, and this year he’s finally resuming his career again. Sort of a third attempt at his third NHL season. Last year was so horrible that I, along with most people, had completely written him off. But if he’s finally put injuries behind him, he’s a great candidate for another step forward next year as a 26-year-old – think mid-50s.

Roberto Luongo is 6-1-0 since returning.

Things were pretty sweet for Petr Mrazek for a while there, winning his first three games for the Flyers. But he’s 0-2-1 since then, allowing 14 goals.

There’s been a Jakob Silfverberg sighting! After one point in his last 11 games he scored two Sunday after virtually every fantasy owner dropped or benched him. Silfverberg has always been a late starter, but usually it’s a terrible first 40 games and then nearly a point per game after that. This year he’s starting 20 games left, and that’s assuming he gets going now.

Vincent Hinostroza has eight points in his last nine games. Frankly, he’s been doing well for a couple of months now with 22 in his last 29. Mostly at even strength though he is getting 1B power-play time. He’s been playing on a talented Kid Line with Alex DeBrincat and Nick Schmaltz.

Corey Perry has six points in his last three games. He’s been playing with Ryan Getzlaf and Rickard Rakell as most of you know, as Randy Carlyle has been stacking the deck for Anaheim’s first line.

Taylor Hall watch: Points streak now at 18 games thanks to two points Sunday. But there is a player hotter than him. Evgeni Malkin. In the last 15 games Malkin has 27 points to Hall’s 20. I like to keep an eye on our hot/cold tool every few days in case a hidden gem pops up in there.

So far Patrick Maroon is not playing with Taylor Hall, he’s with Travis Zajac and Michael Grabner. But he is getting top PP time and has two PP points with the Devils in three games.

It’s taken me a while to come around on these two guys, but I’m finally there with Eric Staal and I’m getting there with Jason Zucker. Staal took a while because he burned me a couple of times when I counted on his late-season surge and it never came. He had won a couple of titles for me with that reliable surge but then suddenly it just stopped and he just plain sucked. Then he went to New York and the suckage continued. I thought Minnesota signed him to a great contract as he was a solid third-line center whose best days were behind him. But apparently he worked his ass off two summers ago and had a great rebound campaign. So I thought: “Alright, I’m on board with that. He’s a 60-point guy, sure.” This year he’s exceeded that by a mile and with each passing day I had been expecting a slowdown. In the Midseason Guide he was on pace for 69 points and I had him slowing to 64 because of a higher 5on5 SH% of 9.6% when last year he was at 8.4%. The former number is more along the lines of a top star player. But Staal has only picked things up and is already at 65 points with his goal Sunday. His 5on5 SH% of 10.6% still indicates a slowdown, but I think the old Eric Staal is truly back. His pace is for 42 goals and 81 points, but with a sky-high SH% of 18.7% I think he finishes with 39 and 78.

As for Zucker, I had always thought his cap was around 65 points, but he was likely a 55-point player due to wild inconsistency. With two goals Sunday he’s already at 53 on pace for 66 and now I think his ceiling is in the 70s. I’m taking a little longer to come around to that with him. But as with Randy Carlyle, Bruce Boudreau is stacking his best offensive players on the same line – Zucker and Staal are playing with Mikael Granlund.

Paul Stastny is getting top PP time with Winnipeg, out there with Mark Scheifele, Patrik Laine, Blake Wheeler and Big Buff. He has four points in three games with the Jets. This is just new-team adrenalin, but his production will still be better here than it was in St. Louis.

Patrik Laine had three points Sunday and is on an eight-game point streak. In fact, in seven of those games he had at least two. Give him 16 points in eight games in all. His 71 career goals as a teenager put him into sixth place all time I believe – I wish I could dig up the Tweet where I saw that to know for sure. But just know that it’s a lot of goals for a young guy, at least I can confirm that much!

Evander Kane has points in all three games he’s played as a Shark, five points in all thanks to two on Sunday. San Jose line combos with Kane on the team:

21.8%

DONSKOI,JOONAS – KANE,EVANDER – PAVELSKI,JOE

17.1%

BOEDKER,MIKKEL – COUTURE,LOGAN – MEIER,TIMO

15.3%

FEHR,ERIC – GOODROW,BARCLAY – KARLSSON,MELKER

11.1%

HERTL,TOMAS – LABANC,KEVIN – TIERNEY,CHRIS

Martin Jones was pulled for the sixth time Sunday.

Yesterday’s 20 Fantasy Hockey Thoughts

We’re starting to get close to college free agent signing season now. It’s also close to the end of the season in junior hockey, with two weeks left in the schedule (though there is still playoffs). So you’ll also be seeing some junior players get signed to their entry-level deals, particularly the ones who have to be signed before June 1 or go back into the draft (i.e. the 2016 draftees). With 50 contracts as the maximum, teams will want to know where they stand with regards to contract room before targeting the college guys.

The Panthers signed defenseman Riley Stillman, a solid two-way guy with some upside. I have him ranked 69th among prospect defensemen in fantasy, mostly due to the wait time, though he hasn’t had the step forward in the OHL this year that I had hoped to see. Our profile on Stillman here.

The Ducks signed winger Maxime Comtois to an ELC. He has 76 points in 50 games for Victoriaville of the QMJHL which is a very solid jump from last season’s numbers. He had six points in seven games for Team Canada. He ranks 363 on my fantasy prospects forwards list but is moving up. He’s been several highly-touted prospects in Anaheim’s system such as Sam Steel, Troy Terry, Max Jones and the NHL-ready Kalle Kossila. His profile is here.

The Avalanche signed another Team Canada guy in Conor Timmins. He’s a defenseman who seriously impressed me at the WJC and has been doing nothing but move up my fantasy prospect defensemen list (currently at 37). Profile here.

San Jose signed a player from out of Switzerland named Vincent Praplan. The 23-year-old was never drafted, but he did play for Team Swiss at the Olympics (zero points) and is tied for 12th in Swiss League scoring. I don’t know much about him, but the numbers don’t jump out at me so he could just be another Marcus Sorensen-type of depth option.

You may have noticed a few changes with the Frozen Pool player profiles. Just the tip of the iceberg…

{source}<blockquote class="twitter-tweet" data-lang="en"><p lang="en" dir="ltr">Some very exciting changes upcoming for <a href="https://twitter.com/frozenpool?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">@frozenpool</a> – our free <a href="https://twitter.com/hashtag/FantasyHockey?src=hash&ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">#FantasyHockey</a> tools section. A complete relaunch of the look and navigation on the way.<br><br>I know that was the No.1 weakness of this area of the site.<br>Can't wait!</p>— Dobber (@DobberHockey) <a href="https://twitter.com/DobberHockey/status/970350885422317569?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">March 4, 2018</a></blockquote>

For your viewing enjoyment, if you’re reading this on the commute. Yesterday’s highlight package…

{youtube}yTHKGfsPqkI{/youtube}

from All About Sports https://dobberhockey.com/hockey-rambling/ramblings-thoughts-on-ellis-staal-bjugstad-jost-and-more-mar-05/

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