#there's also a non fix-it fic idea that's been rattling around in my brain that i'm waiting to see if the next set josses

[hesgomorrah]

we're living in the year of the twojamie reunion.....

[cynicalrainbows]

An incredibly late happy birthday fic for the very lovely and very talented @shut-up-heather-d, who has been patiently waiting for this for weeks. After you read this, you should also take yourself to AO3 to read her OWN writing too, because it’s really excellent.

But here’s some fluff in the meantime. The request was for Kitty being taken care of by Catalina and Jane, and Catalina being the stricter ‘parent’.

‘I’m dying-’

Kitty rolls dramatically onto her stomach and buries her face in the couch cushion, displacing Cathy (who falls off the couch with a squeak and retreats hastily to the kitchen for paper towels to mop up the spilled coffee from her shirt).

‘You’re not dying Kit.’

Kitty lifts up her flushed face and tries to muster up the energy to glare at Catalina.

‘I AM.’

Catalina raises an unimpressed eyebrow. ‘You’re not dying, you have cramps. And if you’d just take the aspirin-’

‘But it tastes HORRIBLE-’

‘So you keep saying.’

Kitty flops back down with another groan and Catalina carries on tidying up.

‘I hate today, I’m really stressed and I have to make that phone call to the bank, on top of everything-’

Catalina sighs. She isn’t really sure how to help and she doesn’t like it- it feels like Kitty’s blaming her for her not being able to fix it. Of course, she knows this isn’t Kitty’s fault at all, just her own stupid brain but still…

Even so, she’ll do the best she can, even if advice IS all she can do.

‘Well, maybe if you go and get it done rather than putting it off….and you know it’s going to hurt until you take some painkiller, so you’re only hurting yourself by putting that off too.’

There. Sensible and hopefully enough to spur Kitty into action.

Kitty though just gives her a slightly wounded look and rolls onto her side.

After a while, the silence stretches out a little too long. She returns to the couch.

‘Kit?’

‘Mmm?’

Kitty doesn’t move from where her head is buried in the cushions- Catalina gently tucks a few locks of hair back behind her ear to get a look at slightly more of Kitty’s face, and her fingers brush against dampness on the girl's cheek.

‘Mija, are you alright?’

‘’M fine.’ It’s more indistinct than it should be- Catalina frowns. She starts to feel the first gnawings of guilt in the pit of her stomach. 

‘Kitty?’

‘- I’m sorry.’

‘Oh Kit.’

Catalina pushes a few cushions aside and makes herself a space at the end of the sofa. The guilt grows, and she wonders if maybe advice hadn’t been what was needed after all.

‘You have nothing to apologise for. It’s ok.’

‘’M sorry. You don’t have to take care of me.’ It’s so small and wavery that Catalina immediately feels like the worst person in the world. It’s not her fault- she isn’t used to this, she’s used to dramatics needing to be curbed, she’s used to plain speaking and advice. That’s what she’s good at. Kitty half sits up as Catalina sits down, as if she’s going to retreat to her bedroom, and Catalina sighs. She’s fucked up.

‘Come here mija.’ Catalina tugs until Kitty reluctantly rests her head against Catalina’s leg, and begins to smooth her hair back from her warm forehead. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so snappish and unhelpful. I was trying to help and I think I just made it worse, didn’t I?’

‘It’s ok.’

‘I’m not actually cross with you, you know that don’t you?’

Kitty makes a small non-commital noise.

‘Don’t you?’

‘...I suppose.’

‘Good. Now what I can get to help you feel better, hm?’

Kitty’s face sinks into resignation. ‘I’ll take the aspirin. Is it still in the cabinet?’

It’s mildly painful to Catalina to actually witness this- how Kitty’s resistance, her own wants and needs, are ready to crumble in an instant if it means that she’ll be restored to favour (in the early days, she’d taken it for a pleasant compliance until Jane had set her straight.)

‘You don’t have to-’ Catalina stops herself; Kitty blinks at her warily, confusedly. She can see the question in Kitty’s eyes as to whether or not this is some sort of trick or trap. She doesn’t take it personally (mostly, usually)- she knows this wariness was bred into the girl a long, long time ago. ‘That is, I still think you should. But that wasn’t what I meant- I was just trying to think of an alternative.’

‘Oh.’

‘I could run you a bath? Or make you up a hot water bottle. The heat might help. Only if you want to though. You can stay here if you like.’

‘You don’t have to.’

‘I know. And you don’t have to either mija. But it might make you feel better.’

Kitty opens her mouth to give her usual polite refusal and then a cramp makes her tense- her eyes close for a moment and a nod is wrung out of her.

‘Ok. Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome.’

*

Catalina insists Kitty stay on the couch while she turns on the bath. (She intends to use some of her own special fancy bubble bath in it, as a sort of apology, but realises to her chagrin that she’s run out. She uses some of Anne’s instead and tells herself it still counts.)

While Kitty soaks Catalina decides to make the hot water bottle anyway. Save them having to do the same rigmarole over whether or not she goes to all the trouble of boiling the kettle or not.

If Kitty doesn’t want it, it can just go on the floor or something.

Jane comes home just as the kettles switch flips off. Her cheeks are red from the wind- or possibly just from the three supermarket bags she’s laden down with.

Catalina stares. 

‘Are you sure you got EVERYTHING?’

Jane nods, opening cupboards and pulling out draws as she stashes boxes and jars.

‘I think so- probably.’

‘Jane, you were picking up milk and bread.’

‘Oh!’ Jane catches the sarcasm too late, as she always does and colour rises in her cheeks as it always does. (She does not however either fly off the handle at Catalina for teasing her- as she used to, in the very early days- or shut down entirely and go silent and drawn in on herself- as she still does on very bad days, although they happily are getting rarer.) ‘Well I KNOW- but then I remembered it’s Cathy’s turn to cook tomorrow and she probably won’t have time to get to the supermarket before supper-’

‘You mean she’ll keep writing til the last minute and then panic like last time?’

Jane ignores her. ‘-SO I thought I’d get some staples just in case. And they had some of that pate Anna really likes on offer, and it seemed silly to not take advantage of THAT. And Anne finished the last of the cereal this morning so-’

‘We have at least three different kinds of cereal in the patry Jane.’

‘Yes but not the one that she really LIKES. And there were fresh muffins in the bread aisle, and sometimes it’s nice to have a bit of a treat for breakfast even if it ISN’T a weekend day, and THEN I thought that it would be a good idea to get stuff for making that shortbread that Joan really likes because she’s having a bit of a stressful week, poor thing-’

Catalina smiles despite herself and starts to help put things away.

‘I see…’

‘Don’t be jealous Catty, I got you some green tea.’

‘I do have green tea already.’

‘Yes but this is a special fancy looking NEW kind of green tea because I thought you might like a treat. Also a mango.’

‘Did you get anything for yourself?’

‘Yes.’ There’s only the slightest of hesitations and Catalina resists the urge to ask what: they both know it’ll just send Jane into a spiral of defensiveness as she tries to justify her spending money on herself to the insatiable long dead ghosts of the past.

‘Good. Well done.’

‘Thank you.’

‘And thank you for my treats- and for everything else. The others will be thrilled.’

‘I hope so. I got some stuff for Kitty and I to bake with too, there’s a recipe we saw on Bake Off that Anna liked the look of and Kit wanted to try it-’

‘I don’t think she’ll be quite up to that for the moment.’

‘Why? Why not?’ Jane looks suddenly urgently panicked and Catalina hastens to reassure her.

‘Nothing to worry about. Period pain, that’s all.’

‘Oh the poor little thing.’ Jane’s face creases into sympathy even as the anxiety leaves it. ‘Where is she?’

‘Taking a bath. I’m going to bring her a hot water bottle when she’s done. Actually-’ They hear the rush of water down the drain rattle the loose guttering. ‘I think that’s her now.’

‘Has she taken anything?’

‘She didn’t want the aspirin…’

Jane nods. ‘She doesn’t like the taste. I usually just end up bribing her. What did you do?’

‘....I- um- I told her to stop complaining.’

‘Catty!’

‘Sorry! I didn’t say it exactly like that.’

When she glances up at Jane, she’s supremely relieved to see that Jane looks more amused than vengeful.

‘What’s funny?’

‘Sorry. Nothing. Just…’ Jane bites back a smile. ‘You looked SO guilty when you admitted that. I don’t think you’re as cut out for the strict parent role as you think you are…’

Catalina can’t help but smile back. ‘Maybe not. I do want to make it clear I did apologise. And I WAS about to make her a hot chocolate to take up when you came in.’

Jane chuckles and hands over the bag of mini marshmallows. ‘Better get started then.’

*

Kitty’s struggling with her wet hair- cursing herself for her ill-thought out decision to lay back in the water and wondering whether to just leave it and lie down with it wet- when Jane taps on the door.

‘How are you feeling love?’

‘You’re back!’ For the first time since being struck down, Kitty feels actually, properly happy: she can’t quite explain it, but somehow, having Jane in the vicinity during a crisis just makes things better. Easier. 

It didn’t even mean things were fixed or solved- for that, all the queens agreed, you needed Catalina or Anne or Anna (or Cathy if the problem involved etymology or linguistics or the interpretation of scripture). Jane was not the person you had around to fix things, they all knew. 

But Jane was the person you’d position yourself close to once the solution to the problem had been identified and needed putting into place. 

(Her role in this respect- always fairly clear- had been absolutely cemented the day that Anna had come home to find Catalina miserably struggling through a phone call, her head in Jane’s lap while Jane did needlepoint and fed her white chocolate buttons. Catalina had been slightly flushed upon discovery but determinedly insouciant, and to their eternal credit, the others had refrained from commenting.)

Kitty struggles to her feet to pull Jane properly into the room. ‘I’m fine! How was your shopping trip?!’

‘It was alright. They had those special dark chocolate biscuits I was waiting for them to restock at LAST-’

(Jane isn’t quite sure why talking about things she’s brought for herself to Kitty doesn’t set off the same anxiety as it does when admitting to having done so to anyone else. It doesn’t, and that’s enough for her.)

Kitty knows better than to comment on the purchase, but she beams proudly at her all the same and Jane shoots a small, grateful smile back- which fades quickly when she notices how tense the girl is.

‘Are you sure you’re ok? Is it still hurting? Catalina said you were having a really hard time of it.’

Kitty blushes slightly. ‘Yeah. Did she tell you I was making a fuss?’

She looks so forlorn, Jane thinks it would almost be funny if it wasn’t so very sad. She makes her voice as gentle as possible. ‘Of course not, sweetheart.’ She wraps an arm around Kitty’s shoulders, guides her to sit on the edge of the bed and then picks up the abandoned comb. ‘She said that you were in pain and that she was concerned. That’s all.’

‘Oh.’ Kitty keeps her head down as Jane begins to patiently work through the tangles. ‘I WAS making a fuss though…’

‘Actually, she told me that she feels awful for not being more sympathetic at first.’

‘But she doesn’t need to! She ran me a bath and everything. And I shouldn’t be so whiney anyway.’

‘Love-’ Jane keeps combing, and Kitty unconsciously relaxes back into her touch, enjoying it. ‘Remember what we told you? You don’t need to feel bad about being taken care of sometimes. We all want to help. Especially if you’re not feeling good.’

‘But I’m an adult, I-’

‘Yes?’

‘I-’ Kitty bites her lip miserably. ‘I should be able to just...handle myself, you know?’

Jane shrugs. ‘Is that what you think the rest of us should do then?’

‘What?’

‘Like, I should just handle myself and stop bothering Anna or you when I need help doing a form? Or how Cathy should just get over it when she gets overwhelmed and keep going?’

‘No of course not-’

‘Or how Anne should just stop being late for things and finish jobs when she starts them?’

‘No! That would be horrible, that’s-’

Jane nods. ‘So why is it any different for you? Why wouldn’t we be just as eager to help you when we love you just as much? Hm?’

Kitty sighs in defeat, and then winces as the comb is tugged. ‘I know. I know that really. I suppose. It’s just….hard to know it properly sometimes.’

‘I know love.’ Jane leans down and kisses the top of her head, then begins to plait her hair back. ‘We’ll remind you though. As much as you need.’

Kitty opens her mouth to reply but she’s interrupted by another tap on the door- Catalina, bearing a tray and looking slightly awkward.

‘I thought you might like a hot drink-’ As she puts the tray down on the nightstand, Kitty sees that it bears one fuzzy hot water bottle, one plate of shortbread, two mugs of tea- and possibly the most decadent hot chocolate she has ever seen in her life.

She’d been about to apologise again- she still can’t quite shake the anxiety that Catalina might maybe still be annoyed at her despite her reassurances- but the elaborateness of the drink surprises a laugh out of her instead.

‘Catty! It looks-’

Jane’s laughing too. ‘That’s….oh my goodness!’

Catalina tries and fails to frown. ‘Hey! I worked very hard on this. It is NOT easy to get that many marshmallows into one mug-’

‘You look like you managed though-’

‘Just about-’ She glances at Kitty, slightly anxiously. ‘Is it ok? Do you like it?’

‘I love it!’ Kitty bounces off the bed to hug Catalina in gratitude and then winces. ‘Argh. Bad idea. Sorry.’

‘It’s ok-’ Catalina hands her the hot water bottle and Kitty presses it thankfully to her stomach. ‘Why don’t you get comfortable? It might feel better if you lie down.’

Jane starts to arrange pillows as Kitty settles onto the bed. ‘Jane, I’m not an invalid you know, I honestly can do it myself-’

‘I know love.’ She doesn’t stop. ‘But you’re sick so-’

‘I’m not sick.’

‘Being in pain is a kind of sick.’ Catalina chips in. ‘Just indulge us mija. Now, do you want some peace and quiet so you can rest? Or do you want company?’

Kitty hesitates. ‘It’s ok love, whichever you prefer. We won’t take it personally if you’d rather have some space-’

Kitty nods; Jane and Catalina wait a moment and then pick up their tea and start for the door. As Jane opens it, they’re stopped by a squeak from the bed.

‘Kit?’

‘Do- do you mind staying? If you’re not too busy?’ She squeezes the hot water bottle case anxiously. ‘Just, it really hurts and it’s nice to have a distraction and-’ Despite their reassurance, Kitty still half expects to catch an eye roll or a reluctant sigh. Of course they don’t want to stay really, of course they’re busy…

But instead, Jane smiles as she closes the door; Catalina squeezes her hand as she settles onto the bed.

‘Well done mija. I know that wasn’t easy.’

It’s a silly thing to need validation for but it makes the anxious bands that have seized around Kitty’s chest loosen anyway.

They get comfortable on the bed either side of her and Jane reaches for Kitty’s laptop.

‘How about some trash tv? That usually makes me feel better.’

Kitty settles back, letting her head rest against Catalina’s shoulder. It feels warm and comfortable, a good place to rest. ‘Sure. Not Love Island though, I feel too gross to enjoy watching people in bikinis.’

‘Fine.’ Jane pouts slightly and Catalina chuckles. ‘Bake Off?’

‘Ok.’

They watch in silence for a few minutes, as the sprightly music plays and mouth watering images of sponges and tarts fill the screen. Catalina hands Kitty her hot chocolate and it’s very bit as good as it looks; Jane’s arm around her is pleasantly soothing.

‘Catty?’

‘Hm?’

‘Thanks.’

‘You’re welcome mija.’

(Kitty doesn’t just mean for the hot chocolate. But she thinks Catalina probably knows this.)

[joggerfive]

Fic: Innocent Bystander

When Sam goes to fetch Runner Five for a last-minute fuel run, he finds her in a compromising position. Set in S1/S2. (Also available to read on AO3)

(CW: sexual references)

-----

Sam and Maxine were in the comms shack, sitting in companionable silence at opposite ends of the desk as each of them attended to their own paperwork. Misery loves company, after all. Maxine finished writing on a page and moved it to the side, then focused her eyes on the small yellow note that was previously hidden underneath.

“Sam?”

He didn’t look up from his paperwork and instead only answered with a non-committal mumble.

“Did you see this?” She continued, as she placed the note in front of Sam’s eyeline.

He tore his tired eyes away from the sheets of paper in front of him and looked at the small note. It read:

‘Need an extra fuel run immediately. Tell the runner(s) to head west – Mr. Harrison reported a garage there with multiple tanks.'

From the neat handwriting, he knew the author of the note was Janine. And from the use of capital letters and underlining, he knew he was screwed. Sam swore as he shot up from his chair, suddenly full of energy.

“When was this put here?!” He asked Maxine, panic evident in his voice.

“I don’t know!” She exclaimed, immediately feeling the effects of Sam’s anxiety affecting her.

Sam mumbled to himself as he searched through his pile of papers, before finally finding the one he needed.

“Okay,” he said quietly, more to himself than to his companion. He sat back into his chair and ran his fingers down the rota with all the residents’ allocated jobs throughout each day, searching for a runner who was currently available.

“Five hasn’t been for a run yet today, and she should be free right now.” He concluded, letting out a large exhale, “That’s fine. That’s good. She can go get fuel.”

“On her own?” Maxine enquired, looking sceptical.

“She’s strong!” Sam defended, “I saw her pick up Jack once. And she was tipsy at the time. She can handle carrying some fuel, right?”

She shrugged in response, which was good enough for Sam.

“Okay,” He rose from his chair quickly, knocking over his (thankfully empty) mug as he did so, “I’m going to go find Five. I’ll be right back.”

Maxine didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye as Sam scurried out of the comms shack, the door slamming behind him.

-----

The Sam that returned to the shack seemed like a completely different person from the one who left. He now walked slowly, with a permanent crease fixed between his furrowed eyebrows. He walked past Maxine without even acknowledging her as he thumped down into his chair, looking into the distance.

“Did going over to the runner’s dorms really get you that out of breath?”

“Hmm?” Sam replied, finally looking over at the doctor. She had a slight smirk on her lips as she took in Sam’s appearance from top to bottom. His cheeks were so pink that they were almost glowing, and he seemed to have a sheen of sweat on his forehead.

The room was silent for a few seconds as Sam’s brain tried to catch up with what his friend had said, finally letting out a small ‘ha, yeah…’ as a response, then looked back down at his papers.

“So...” Maxine said slowly.

“So, what?” Sam replied defensively, still staring at the exact same spot on the paper.

“Five?”

He looked up again in confusion, then realised what she was alluding to.

“Oh! Yeah! She was… um… in the shower.” He babbled.

Maxine placed the pen she was using down on the table, “Her shower slot is in the evening. I know because I see her there when I go for my showers too.”

“Yeah, um, I meant she’s- she was… sleeping.”

Turning in her chair, Maxine levelled Sam with narrowed eyes and folded her arms, trying to see through his lies. This silence lasted for about five seconds before Sam broke it.

“Look, she’s just… she’s busy, okay? I’ll just… I’ll look for another runner. It’s fine. It’s nothing.” His arms gestured wildly as he spoke, his eyes darting around the room.

“Why are you so flustered?” An amused lilt became present in the doctor’s voice.

“I’m not!” She raised her eyebrows at him, keeping her arms folded as she waited him out again. This time, it took only three seconds for him to crack. “It’s… I’m… It’s private!”

Maxine’s glare immediately softened at the idea of gossip, “Was she getting changed?”

“No!” Sam exclaimed loudly, surprising both of them, “No.” He repeated, at a more acceptable volume, “I didn’t see anything.”

“But there was something to see?” She goaded.

“No, nope, nothing, nuh-uh.”

“So there was.”

“No! I… It’s…” Sam spluttered, before taking a small breath, “Don’t you have work to do?” He accused.

“Oh, this is way more interesting.” Maxine said gleefully, revelling in her friend’s discomfort. He scoffed as she continued with her interrogation, “So… she wasn’t getting changed… Was she having sex with someone?”

“No! She wasn’t… with anyone…”

When Sam winced at his choice of words, Maxine thought through his response. Suddenly, it clicked.

“Wait! Was she masturba-”

“Shhh!” Sam exclaimed loudly, the blush on his cheeks intensifying as Maxine laughed.

“It’s only us in here!” She chuckled, amused by his embarrassment.

“Just don’t talk about it!” He begged, covering his flushed face with his hands.

She ignored his request completely, “Didn’t you knock?”

Sam moved his hands away, looking almost insulted, “Yeah, of course I did! She must’ve not heard me though…” He trailed off.

“Or maybe she did, and she wanted you to see?”

Sam recoiled backwards as if he’d been slapped, “What?”

“Oh, come on,” Maxine said sarcastically, “You guys are always flirting with each other-”

He groaned loudly, he did not have the energy for this lecture again. He suspected that it was slowly becoming Maxine’s favourite topic to tease him about. She continued on as Sam dropped his head onto the desk, the collection of papers only softening the thud slightly.

“We are not talking about this.” He mumbled, his voice slightly quieter due to the fact that his face was pressed against the table.

Maxine continued on, seemingly powered by her partner’s misery, “You were gone for about ten minutes, it doesn’t take that long to walk to the housing. How long were you standing at her door for?”

Sam’s head lifted immediately off the table, his eyes wide as his brain absorbed the last thing she had said. Maxine raised her eyebrows at his reaction, waiting for a response which finally came.

“We are definitely not talking about this.”

Maxine let out what could only be described as a cackle as Sam grunted in frustration and threw a highlighter at her head, which she expertly dodged. She then grabbed a nearby pencil and threw it back at him, hitting him square in the (still blushing) cheek. Before their shenanigans could become an all-out war, the door to the comms shack swung open with force.

Janine walked in, immediately frowning at the two people in front of her who looked up at her like two children ready to be scolded. As she took in the scene, the corner of her lip raised slightly for a millisecond, before straightening once again.

“Dr. Myers, Ms. Marsh needs your assistance in the hospital. Nothing major, but she says she felt a muscle twinge in her back as she was helping plant some seeds in the farm earlier. She would like you to take a look to make sure it’s nothing serious.”

“Of course.” Maxine replied seriously, her playful side immediately taking a back seat as she stood and walked towards the door.

Sam let out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding as the two women walked out, thinking that he’d been spared.

Then, Janine halted in the doorway and turned around to face the operator, “Have you sent someone for the fuel run yet, Mr. Yao?”

Damn, didn’t quite get away with it.

“Not yet…” He said under his breath.

“Well? Do so now!” She ordered, “I believe Runner Five should be available during this time of the day.”

Sam thought he’d managed to keep his expression neutral, but as he heard Maxine snicker as she left, he knew he hadn’t.

-----

Sam shuffled outside of the dorm that belonged to Runners Four and Five, brimming with nervous energy. He’d been standing there for a few minutes at the least, judging by the fact that multiple other runners had walked past him in the corridor with quizzical looks. When he saw Runner Fifteen for the third time (once to go to the kitchen for food, once coming back with the food, and now coming back with an empty bowl), he decided it was time to bite the bullet.

He knocked loudly this time, so forcefully that the door seemed to rattle on its hinges.

“Five?” He shouted through the door, “It’s Sam. Can I come in?”

“Yeah!” Came the immediate reply, making Sam nervous. Was she still… indecent? He opened the door, keeping his gaze focused on the ground as he walked in. When he began to speak, it was as if someone had pressed the fast-forward button on a remote to make him talk at double speed.

“I need you. For a supply run. For gas. It’s for Janine. Well, I mean, it’s for the whole township since the gas benefits everyone, but Janine’s the one that asked you to go. I mean, she didn’t ask for you specifically. Not that she wouldn’t want you, you’re probably the best runner we’ve got. Oh, no, shouldn’t have said that. Not supposed to have favourites. Not that you are-”

“Sam?”

His head snapped upwards, finally looking at the runner. Five was still lounging in her bed, covered up by the threadbare blanket as she had been during his first visit. She seemed… relaxed. Satisfied, almost. As soon as his brain started supplying ideas of why that would be, his cheeks began to flush again. Then he remembered that she had said his name.

“Yeah?”

“I’ll go.” She seemed to be holding back a smile, but before he could analyse that any further, he just nodded and broke eye contact.

“Great. That’s great. Very helpful. I’ll be waiting in the comms shack then. You can… get yourself ready.”

And with that, he scurried out of the runners dorms before anyone could realise the state he was in while leaving the room that Five was occupying. There were already rumours about the two of them, and that would only add fuel to the flame.

-----

About a quarter of an hour later, Five strode into the comms shack with confidence, snatching a headset from the makeshift charging dock. Sam watched her like a hawk, looking for signs that she knew that he… knew.

“I feel so much better after taking a nap,” Five started as she turned the headset on, then placed it over her ears, “it makes me feel so refreshed and energised.”

Sam stayed completely still, moving his gaze to the screen in front of him and staring intently at the monitors, even though they were displaying no activity whatsoever. He wondered whether what she’d said had meant to sound like a euphemism, but kept his mouth shut just to be safe.

Five was unaware of the operator’s strange behaviour as she fiddled with the sides of the headset so it wasn’t so loose. She continued on, “Once you get one under your belt, you have a much more productive day.”

Sam swallowed a gulp. Was that a euphemism too?

“Do you like naps?”

His brain seemed to short-circuit for a moment when he realised the runner was waiting for a reply. Did she mean actual naps or… what she had been doing earlier? Well, either way, the answer was still the same.

“Yes.”

——-

Sam clenched his fists as he heard Five during her run. It had been about ten minutes and he was already wishing that the run was over, for his own sanity. Listening to her  breathing through the microphone (as low-quality as it was) usually doesn’t bother him, but now he can’t stop thinking about how her breath had sounded similar when he walked in on her earlier. Little, gasping breaths. Over and over again.

“Oh, God.” She said breathily.

He closed his eyes tightly, biting his lower lip. That definitely didn’t help where his mind was going. Sam shook his head as if that would make the inappropriate thoughts dissipate.

“Sam.” She spoke up again in the same breathy voice.

He held back a groan. Would that be what she sounded like if she said his name during-

“Sam! Zoms!”

“Shit!” He opened his eyes and focused on the screen in front of him, indeed spotting multiple zombies right in Five’s path. He snapped into serious radio operator mode, instantly forgetting the thoughts from earlier as he helped his runner out of danger.

-----

The door to the comms shack swung open, the (mercifully still alive) Runner Five placing her headset to charge as she let down her hair from the ponytail, a few strands sticking to her sweaty, flushed face.

She spoke quickly and energetically, still feeling the effects of the adrenaline, “That was a close one, huh?”

Sam fiddled with his hands nervously, not having enough courage to turn in his chair and look the runner in the eye. “I almost killed you.” His voice was quiet and nervous.

Five scoffed, “Not on purpose!” She saw his shoulders hitched up to his ears and his hands clenched. She moved closer, “Hey, look at me.” Sam’s eyes flitted upwards to look at her, guilt plastered all over his features. “I’m okay. I’m good.”

“Yeah, but you could have not been!” He exclaimed, surprising Five with his loud voice.

“Hey, you were doing your best-”

“No, I wasn’t!” He interrupted frantically, “I was distracted and I need to talk to you about why or else I’ll keep thinking about it.”

Five looked at him with narrowed eyes, “Okay.” She prompted, “Talk to me then.”

He gave a big sigh, breaking eye contact again as he mustered up the courage. “I saw you.” He admitted quietly. “When you were… in your bed.”

“I know.”

Sam’s head snapped up immediately. She knew he was there? Was Maxine right? Did she want him to see?

Five continued, “I talked to you. Are you okay?” She scanned his face with a concerned look, “You look kind of hot. Are you running a fever?”

Sam sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “No, not then. Before that.”

“Before?” She wracked her brain, “You mean a few days ago? When you gave me back that DVD you borrowed?” She shrugged, “Look, it doesn’t matter-”

Sam decided that he had to say this now, before Runner Five graciously gave him a way out. He cut her off, the panic coursing through his veins making him speak louder than intended.

“I saw you masturbating!”

In the same exact moment, the comms shack door opened to reveal Jack and Eugene. The latter had his mouth open wide in shock, whereas the former had a grin on his face like he’d just won the lottery.

“We can come back later.” Jack mused, laughter present in his voice.

“Yeah,” Eugene added, once he’d gotten over the shock, “No-one listens to us anyway.”

The pair shuffled backwards in unison, erupting into giggles before the door had even closed fully. Sam risked a glance at Runner Five to see her reaction, but she kept a straight face, nothing giving her away other than the fierce blush on her cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” Sam began, bolting up from his chair to stand in front of Five, “I didn’t mean to. I promise. I was heading over to ask you to go on the run. And I knocked! Just not loud enough, I guess. And once I realised what was happening, I closed the door and left. And I wasn’t going to tell you because I didn’t want to embarrass you or make you upset. I’m so so sorry-”

“It’s okay.”

“And I-” His jaw snapped shut, “What?”

The runner rolled her eyes, “I said its okay.”

“Wh- I- Um- Wh-” He stammered.

Five continued with a small smile, “I have to strip after every run so a doctor can check me for bites. I’ve been walked in on in the shower more times than I can count. And on my second week here, I was out on a run with Three and he just dropped his trousers and started taking a leak in a bush without warning me first, and that is something I can never unsee.” A chuckle bubbled up through Sam’s chest without meaning to. Five grinned at the melodious noise and continued, “Modesty is long gone. Its okay, I swear. And I appreciate you telling me.”

Sam let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and gave a relieved smile, “Okay. Sorry again.”

“Stop it, I said its fine.” Then a cheeky smile came across her face, “If you really want to make it up to me, you could give me your portion of baked beans next time it’s in the canteen.”

He laughed, happy to still be on joking terms with his runner after this whole incident. “Done.”

Five gave a reassuring pat to Sam’s shoulder, then turned to head out of the comms shack. While walking out, she couldn’t help but make one last comment.

“Or, if you’re not willing to give up your beans, we could always have a role reversal instead.” She said nonchalantly, closing the door behind her.

She heard Sam’s coughing through the door even as she walked away.

-----

i’m so embarrassed to post this aaaaaaa

[cupcakemolotov]

Back to You

Anonymous said: How do you feel about time travel?  Also I hope your shoulder feels better.

A big thank you to @goldcaught & @klarolinedrabbles​ for all of their help with getting this finished. And assuring me that this plot wasn’t too convoluted. For the anon who gave me the prompt, so sorry this took so long! hopefully 14.5K of fic makes up for the wait?

Warnings: Smut, Violence, Non-Canon Compliant, Time Travel, Mentions Murder & Torture, Blood Sharing, Hurt & Comfort (kind of), Bondage.

The lobby of the hotel she’d staggered into was ridiculously fancy. Shivering, Caroline ignored the side eye she received from the closest bellhop, as his frown was the least of her worries. Around her the marble floors amplified the soft murmur of voices, and for a moment it was like stepping into a different world. 

Which wasn’t an entirely inappropriate metaphor.

Gaze sweeping the lobby, she sighed in relief and made a beeline for one of the large, fake fireplaces. The blizzard outside had been a seriously unwelcome surprise and she was super underdressed for the weather. The tumble she had taken into a snow drift when she’d crashed back into reality had left her annoyed and wet.

Winter sucked. 

Thankfully she was wearing a jacket, but while cute, it was meant for a crisp autumn afternoon. Apple picking, hot chocolate with too many marshmallows. Pumpkin carving. Not this winter hellscape. Her boots were totally ruined, being neither waterproof nor practical for six inches of snow. Her toes were wet and freezing, her hair damp, and she was shaking like a junkie who needed a hit. 

Although that wasn’t entirely from the snow. 

Crowding close to the faux-fire that still produced heat, she set her teeth and took several deep breaths. Not for the first time did she mourn her inability to meditate. A little inner calm would have done her a world of good. Instead her bones ached, her skin buzzed, and she felt like a single misstep would her send her carenning back into the void. 

God, she was so fucking thirsty. 

Time travel was honestly the worst. No one really thought about the after effects of being tossed into the future without a by-your-leave, the way your body took time to catch up to reality while your bones tried to go one way and your brain another. She wasn’t sure a human would survive the experience; being a vampire barely left her equipped to deal with the spell. 

But vampirism wasn’t a fix-all. Not for this. It should have kept her from feeling the effects of the bitter cold and damp hair, but she felt frozen down to her bones. Everywhere the cold had touched her skin, she’d broken out in goosebumps and the chattering of her teeth wasn’t entirely from the shock of being deposited in the future. Nothing really worked right after a skip. Her monster was there with its furious hunger, but her body needed time to catch up to things like not being bothered by the cold. So she shivered next to the fire, bones rattling with reaction to both cold and magic, and cursed the witches who had cast the spell.

Holding her trembling hands to the heat, she bit down on her lip when something pinged against her senses. It wasn’t an awareness, not truly, but she had no other words to define it. Bonnie hasn’t been able to describe what the sensation was supposed to feel like it or even if there would be one, but it seemed like she was in the right place afterall.

Good old Bonnie. Always right when it mattered most, no matter how wrong Caroline had hoped she’d be. Maybe she shouldn’t have mentioned some of the side effects of her curse, because this help she’d arranged? It had the potential to go wrong in all the worst ways. 

Not that Klaus or her best friend had listened when she’d argued with their plan. Bonnie’s work to isolate the components of the curse that had left her as an unwilling time traveler had finally started to pay off. If only she hadn’t decided to use that knowledge to tie her to Klaus. Caroline had a sinking feeling that some of her carefully kept secrets were no longer going to be quite so secret in a few hours. He had been nosey before she’d started disappearing for years at a time. If their last argument had been anything to go by her little problem had only made his paranoia worse. 

Rubbing her face, she sighed. She had no idea how much time she’d lost this skip. The raging storm outside kept her from finding out too much information, and she’d always found it difficult to pick out immediate changes if the skip was less than ten years. There was no point in asking someone for the date when she’d have answers to her questions soon enough.

Klaus was here, and would likely be looking for her very soon, if he hadn’t already started. She’d been promised that he’d know when she was close. Bonnie had said those words as if they should have made the situation better. It’d been a bit of a shock honestly, but the years she’d spent gone had apparently brought the two to some kind of careful truce. They didn’t particularly like each other, but they’d learned to tolerate and that was more than Caroline had thought would happen short of the apocalypse.

That awareness pinged again, softer this time, and she turned to look at the elevator banks. She still missed the old fashioned ding, hadn’t really adjusted to the near silent opening of doors, but she hadn’t needed it. Not with Bonnie’s magic insist on her skin. But the sight of Klaus, rumpled and intent, hit her low in the gut. 

It had been just a little over a week since she’d last seen him. They hadn’t parted on the best of terms, but that hadn’t stopped her from missing him. Caroline had no idea how long it had been since he last saw her. The week of silence between them had been deliberate, an attempt to let tempers cool, but whatever time had disappeared in her skip had not. In the week she’d spent stewing, she hadn’t found the words to explain to him or Bonnie why she was so pissed by their bright idea. 

Logically she knew she needed help. This curse was no small thing. She and Bonnie called her disappearances skips, as if she just jumped ahead and everything was fine, but nothing with magic was ever that easy. And there was nothing fun about it. She should have been grateful that Klaus and his endless network of witches and favors was there to help her. That he’d come looking when he’d realized something was wrong. But she had no idea how to say what she was upset about without it coming out wrong. And Klaus would take it whatever she did say in the worst possible way, his anger and insecurities grinding against her own. And yet despite all that, a part of her was thrilled to see him. 

He was dressed as if he’d planned on going out or just returned, his suit pants and dress shirt still neat. Clothing fabric had changed over the decades, but Klaus always wore everything well. And the hint of leather at his throat, the way his shirt fit the width of his shoulders was as tempting as he’d always been. 

Klaus didn’t give her much time to secretly ogle him. His gaze found hers almost before he existed the elevator, the edge of his iris going pale with his wolf. For a moment he paused, as if absorbing her shivering presence, and then Klaus was swiftly crossing the distance between them. 

“Caroline,” Klaus said once he was close enough, his eyes taking in her damp clothing and annoyed expression with a quick sweep. “My apologies for the weather, love. Had I known you’d be popping in, I’d have chosen something a bit warmer.”

She bit the side of her tongue to hold in the acerbic comment that wanted to escape. His apology was genuine, but the very reason why he needed to make it pissed her off all over again. His mouth twitch higher on one side as he easily read her expression and her eyes narrowed.

Instead of commenting, he reached for her hands, expression intent. His skin felt amazingly warm against hers and she nearly shuddered at the contact. Post-time jump always left her achingly sensitive to touch, and she usually tried to avoid it until she’d settled back into her skin. Feeding the shakiness of her bones with blood and sensation had proven to be a bad idea. There were other ways to remind herself that she was real, but the knowledge that she couldn’t hurt Klaus, could ask for nothing he couldn’t give was a heady temptation that twisted her stomach into knots. 

Klaus’ gaze briefly narrowed as he read her reaction, but surprisingly he chose not to comment as he tucked her arm through his and ushered her towards the private elevator he’d just come from. He was hybrid-hot against her side, and she forced herself to ignore the crawling need to plaster herself against him and let the heat and muscle of him sink into her. 

“Still angry then?” He asked lightly, dragging her out of the turmoil of her mind. “I suppose that’s fair. It’s been what? Two weeks or so for you since our last discussion?”

“Argument,” Caroline corrected as they stepped inside the elevator. “It’s been a week since we had an argument. And since I was just dumped into a giant pile of snow, I’m really not inclined to be forgiving.”

“I’d expect nothing else.” His hand squeezed her arm, voice lowering. “Your jump was just a little more than four years this time. You just missed New Years, I’m afraid.”

She appreciated him ripping the band aid off, but it still sucked. She loved the Holiday Season. Klaus, she knew, didn’t celebrate the way she did but he’d dropped more than one hint over the years that he’d make an exception or two for her, if she wanted him too. It shouldn’t have surprised her that he’d noted her love of the season, but the quiet sympathy in his eyes shook her a little. 

“Of course I did,” she finally muttered. There was no point in pretending she enjoyed missing chunks of her life. Not with him. “Anything else?”

“Nothing of great import,” Klaus said. “I’m sure your friends will fill you in on the banality of their lives soon enough.”

She gave him an annoyed look. “They aren’t that bad.” The ones that were left, anyway. 

He made a low, noncommittal noise and studied her face with an intensity that left her wanting to fidget. “You need blood.”

“That can’t be a surprise.”

Klaus’ head tipped to the side, all teasing gone. “Does the amount of blood you need post-skip change with duration? You’ve avoided saying.”

The elevator doors opened softly, and Caroline tried not to flinch at the unexpected movement. Glancing away, she briefly bit her lip as she took in the extravagance of his hotel room and internally winced at the thought of her soggy boots on the fancy flooring.

“Caroline.” The demand in his voice pushed at her temper, and she bit her tongue to hold in her acerbic response. Picking a fight because she was still pissed at a fight that happened four years ago for him wouldn’t solve anything. 

“Sometimes,” she said finally, shoulder lifting in a shrug. She glanced at him to find his gaze had narrowed and that maybe he hadn’t let their last argument go the way she thought he had. It figured. Still, he held out a hand to keep the doors open so she could exist when they tried to shut, and she took his silent suggestion.

Caroline stepped into the warm room with relief, gaze scanning the space for any immediately noticeable changes. Nothing new that she could see, but nothing that could really anchor her to the present if her mind started to wander. Except the fireplace. There was a fire already crackling, and it had been years since she had seen one. She’d thought wood fires had long gone out of fashion, another one of her childhood mementos gone before she was ready. 

The privilege of the super rich, she supposed with a faint smile. Heading for the closest couch, she sat with a little sigh at the squishy softness of the cushion, and determinedly reached for the zipper on her the first boot. Behind her, Klaus prowled around the couch. Caroline tried not track him, but he was distracting when he decided to decided to take up space.

“You’ve never been a very good liar, love.” His voice was soft as he finally spoke, his words sank like blades between them. “Not to those who know you.”

Her head snapped up, eyes hot. “Excuse you?”

Klaus’ gaze was as annoyed as her own. “Why have secrets at all? Particular about this.”

Caroline spluttered. “That’s kind of rich, coming from you.” 

He suddenly crouched in front of her, his movements almost vampire-fast. His hands caught hers, the shock his warm fingers curling around the shaking bone and muscle of hers. She bit down hard on the tip of her tongue to keep from asking for more, to see if his hands on her skin could smooth the void-cold from her sinew and muscle. She needed blood and an hour or so to start putting herself back together, and she wasn’t sure she was going to get it.

If Klaus noticed any of her internal struggle, he didn’t address it. “Your witch has finally managed to collect a fair number of details on the intricacies of your curse. I have several copies of her notes, should you like to look at them.”

She gave him a wary look. “Thank you.”

His head tipped to the side, and the challenge in his gaze was flecked wolf-bright. “But what continues to be a point of contention between her and I is the lack of clarity when it comes to how the spell affects you. The after effects of a skip and the toll it takes. Just how you recover from each event.”

Caroline lifted her chin. “That’s because I don’t want to talk about it.”

“And why is that?” His wolf bled through his eyes then, a sure sign of the temper that had left them both shouting during their last meeting. “You’re still trembling. You’ve avoided letting the Bennet witch or me see you so soon after you return. What does the spell take from you, Caroline?”

A jerky lift of her shoulder. “Nothing blood won’t solve. It was only four years this time.”

His jaw tightened at the bitterness in her voice, the line of his cheekbones sharpening. “And the jump that took seven decades from you? What was the price you paid then?”

“Does it matter?” She snapped back. “You and Bonnie have already decided whatever it is, I can’t handle it. It’s why I ended up stuck here. Tromping through a blizzard. Remember that part?”

His jaw jumped. “Caroline.”

“No,” she said tightly. “I’m halfway to being a vampire-popsicle, Klaus. I want a change of clothes and blood, maybe a shower. Not an interrogation.”

For a dozen heartbeats, she thought he’d dig in his heels and argue. They’d already fought over this point more than once, loudly, and while she didn’t want to go over it again, she would. But instead of picking a fight, Klaus stood. Her hands buzzed where he’d touched her, the skin going cold.

“I’ll fetch you a change of clothes, though it will have to be something of mine. Once the storm dies down, I’ll be able to send for more appropriate things for you. Until then we’ll just have to make do.”

He turned and walked away before she could comment and her heart slammed into her throat. Being wrapped in Klaus’ clothes and his scent didn’t seem like such a good idea when she was so out of sorts. Her monster wanted his touch.

Preferably with both of them naked. 

Closing her eyes, Caroline gave herself a moment to freak out before bending over to finish taking off her ruined boots. Then she reached for her hair band, shaking out her hair before tying it back up into a messy bun. She’d learned that small, easily accomplished tasks helped to ground her and right then, she needed all the help she could get. 

For all that she’d lost over a hundred years of her life since this had started, she’d only experienced seven time-skips. And each jump was it’s very own experience. The first time her curse had kicked in, she had only lost a few weeks, and she’d managed it mostly unscathed. Oh, she’d been sure she had gone crazy, waking up in her house but two weeks later than her last memory. She’d had no recollection of the time having passed and the horror Damon had left behind had threatened to choke her. 

She had called Bonnie, frantic, and her witchy best friend had shown up two days later with supplies and her grimoire collection. It hadn’t been until six months later, when she’d lost four years, that Caroline and Bonnie had really started to understand what they were dealing with. For the first time in her life, she’d felt a strange kinship with Rebekah as she’d found herself lost in what had once been familiar. Not that she planned on admitting such a thing out loud, ever. Disappearing for seven decades had taught her a lot of hard lessons. 

She could go weeks and months without a timeskip, the longest stretch had nearly five years, but she couldn’t really live in the time between. Not when she had no idea, no warning for when she’d just up and disappear. Her newly found wanderlust had been forced to take a backseat to the need for safety. She just wouldn’t risk disappearing and leaving everything behind in some forgein country with no way of getting anything she cared about back. 

So she’d boxed up all her dreams alongside her favorite things and promised herself she’d find them again later. And she never intended to tell anyone about how hard it was for her. Not when she saw the toll her curse took on everyone around her - the way Bonnie lost weight and refused to talk about how difficult the spell work truly was. 

She could still remember the look on Klaus face when he’d walked in the door after her reappearance after seventy years. Bonnie had warned her that he’d come looking, but her skin had still gone hot and achingly aware of his presence as his gaze had burned against her. He’d looked at her in such a way, and she’d been absolutely certain it was only Bonnie’s presence and his own iron control that had kept him from reaching for her.

At that point, it’d been years since she’d last seen him and it had absolutely nothing to cool the heat between them. Unfortunately, it also appeared that they hadn’t lost any of their ability to dig under each other’s skin and their tempers had been fast to heat. Klaus had wanted to know all the details of the spell and she hadn’t appreciated his pushiness. He’d been pissed and frustrated, and so had she, but even as they’d shouted at each other, the fear that he’d bite her, that she’d push him too far, hadn’t risen once. 

It’d been a strange way to realize just how much she’d grown to trust him. Decades of silence between them, and she’d still known with complete and utter trust that Klaus wouldn’t harm her in that way ever again. But knowing how felt against under her hands, the way he could move inside her, had left her aware of every movement he’d made in her presence and the occasional spark of yellow at the edge of his pupil had told her she wasn’t the only one. 

She had asked Klaus to walk away at all those years ago for good reasons. But now she was older, less naive, those reasons hadn’t held up quite so well. But she hadn’t really had time to work through those feelings and the changes between them between skips. And having him so close when she was so off balance wasn’t something she was sure she was ready for. Before this, she’d made a point to put herself back into working order before letting him and Bonnie know she’d returned. 

Both Bonnie had Klaus had been suspicious of exactly what happened when she returned, but she’d refused to discuss it. The mix of guilt and horror, the struggle to remember how to be a person? She hadn’t known how to explain what returning was like without making Bonnie’s guilt worse, Klaus’ rage. Attraction and softer feelings aside, being vulnerable sucked. 

A door shut down the hall, and Caroline glanced in the direction Klaus had disappeared. When he reappeared, she bit down hard on the side of her tongue. He’d rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up to bare his forearms, and his hair was ruffled, as if he’d dragged his fingers through it several times. Inside her chest, her monster stirred. 

“I’ve taken the liberty to order in dinner,” Klaus said casually, as if he wasn’t watching her with eyes still pale with temper. “You may have my blood or the bellhops, but I’m going to have to insist that you have some tonight.”

Caroline stood and tried not to fidget at his words. Easily accessible blood bags had become a thing of the past during her seventy year disappearance, plastic also going out of fashion, and she’d adjusted to eating from the vein far easier than she’d ever thought possible. But it had been years since she’d drank directly from Klaus’ vein, and the memory of his taste had lingered. 

“Thank you,” she murmured instead of committing either way. 

His gaze flickered over her face and he handed her the clothes he’d brought with him. “I can show you to a room if you’d like to change.”

Caroline sighed as she accepted the tentative truce he was offering. “How many rooms does this place have, exactly?”

A hint of a smile brought out a dimple in his cheek. “A few. You’ll want one with a proper bath, if I remember correctly?”

“Yes,” she said fervently. His smile widened and he motioned her to follow him. The suit he lead her to was pretty, but all she cared about was the tub she caught a glimpse of behind an open door. “Thanks.”

Klaus tipped his head in acknowledgement before pausing. “When you’re done, we’ll talk.”

Caroline turned to face him. His expression was carefully neutral. “Talk or fight?”

His teeth gleamed but there was nothing particular cheerful about his smile. “I suppose that will depend.”

“Klaus…” she started and then stopped, fingers fisting in his clothes in frustration. “It’s not that easy. None of this is easy.”

“Very few things are, love, particularly where you’re concerned. That doesn’t make you less worthy of my time.” He glanced at the bathroom deliberately, and then took a step away from her. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

Caroline bit her lip and watched the door close behind him. Taking a deep breath, she inhaled slowly before letting it out again. It wouldn’t be long enough to slot all of her parts back together, but it’d be a start.

-

 She decided on a shower. 

As much as she had wanted the bath, once the water turned off it would be too quiet with hybrid hearing so close by. Instead she’d sat on the floor of the shower and given herself several minutes to quietly go to pieces. She didn’t cry, she refused. But she shook so hard she was surprised Klaus didn’t hear her bones rattling in her skin. 

Once clean, Caroline had bundled up in one of the thick, fancy hotel robes and sank onto a fuzzy bathroom rug and struggled to get a grip on herself. Dinner would be arriving soon and she hadn’t bothered to do more than wrap her hair in a towel, but she couldn’t bring herself to stand up and pretend everything was okay just yet.

Recovering from a timeskip always came in stages. Arguing with Klaus, the forcefulness of his presence had helped with her strange disassociation, but nothing she’d found had stopped her post-skip reaction completely and she’d held the worst of her reaction off as long as she could. But under the hot spray of the shower, Caroline she’d gripped her shins hard enough to bruise and shuddered. 

Her body needed time to recover from wherever she went when she skipped. As best she’d been able to tell, she didn’t spend a year for a year between time in the empty void she only truly remembered in her nightmares. Her vampirism hadn’t strengthened enough for that to be the case, but she was stronger than she should have been if she simply blinked back into existence. So there appeared to be some trade off. And whatever that place was in between, it lingered in the marrow of her bones until she shook it off. 

And once her body settled, finally adjusting to the fact that she existed again, the blood lust would hit hard. Her monster always rose, greedy and grasping and starved. She’d gotten good at ignoring her thirst until she could contain it, but it was unlikely that Klaus would let her use her usual coping methods.  Assuming she even wanted him to. 

Rubbing her face with a shaky hand, Caroline tried to decide what she wanted. Part of the reason she’d pushed back so hard against against Bonnie’s spell was just how easy it would be to let Klaus take the brunt of her problem onto himself. Part of her wanted to use him as a safe haven, and badly. The wild, bloody part of her wanted to dig her teeth and fingers into his skin and leave a mark.

She always had. 

But unlike her teenage self, the logical, human part of her brain recognized that it was a bad idea but for far different reasons. She didn’t fear the his monster anymore, though she wasn’t certain if she’d accepted it just yet. But she could clearly see a time when she might.  And figuring out what that meant, what she wanted from him? It deserved thought and care, two things she wasn’t sure she’d be able to give him until this curse ended.

If it ever did. 

Forcibly pushing that thought aside, she toyed with the belt on her robe. Klaus wouldn’t judge her for the things she’d done to survive. But admitting them? Letting him see all the bits of her she hadn’t completely reconciled to herself would be hard. Particularly when she wanted to do nothing more than slide her fingers beneath his shirt and see if he would use his body to distract hers. 

Just thinking about it, the odds that he slept naked, left her cheeks hot. Even with rooms, walls and hundreds of square feet between them, he would definitely notice if she tried to get herself off, and that was… a weird mix of arousing and embarrassing. Caroline morosely wondered if she could just lock herself in her room and hide, pretending that she didn’t smell Klaus on her skin while she dealt with the aftereffects of the skip. 

The soft knock of incoming room service interrupted her imaginings, probably for the better. Her body was already hyper aware of the smallest of sensations, and thinking about Klaus touching her, all the things he’d murmured against her skin the last time she had let him, would do nothing to calm her heartbeat.

Pushing herself to her feet, Caroline forced herself to put her underwear and bra back on before pulling the clothes Klaus had given her. His clothing was warm and almost unbearably soft, an outfit he’d worn often. Her chest tightened that he’d given her his favorite things. The familiar scent of his skin and his preferred laundry soap was comforting as she rolled the sleeves up. Running a quick comb through her hair, she decided she was presentable and headed out to see what Klaus had ordered for them. 

The room was empty but a trolley was filled with several things she couldn’t immediately identify, but that didn’t surprise her. Food was weird. It was either exactly the same or something completely new. However, it was a plate of French Fries that left her throat tight. Klaus rarely missed the little details, she’d be willing to bet money that there was a bottle of champagne hidden somewhere. Lips trembling into a smile, she flinched a handful, and ate them one by one, letting the familiar taste of fried potatoes settle her as she finished the plate.  

Licking the salt from her fingers, she looked up just as Klaus walked back into the room. As she watched, his tongue snaked out and caught a tiny drop of blood at the corner of his mouth and she swallowed. Hard.

“Apologies, sweetheart. I’d have saved the bellhop for you, but I wasn’t sure how much time you’d want alone.”

His apology had held a hint of heat to it and she was too jittery to do anything but react. Her skin suddenly felt too tight and flushed. “That’s fine. It’s generally not a good idea for me to... eat so soon after a skip anyway.”

The slightly playful expression on his face disappeared as if it had never been. “Why?”

Caroline hesitated and then sighed. He’d been right. What was the point of keeping secrets when they’d come out eventually anyway? She could lie, but that would damage something between them and she wasn’t willing to let the witches who had done this to her take anything else. 

Lifting one hand, she studied the trembling bones of her fingers. “It takes a while to remember how to be me. And when I do, I always remember the vampire first.” She glanced at him, watched him absorb her words, saw understanding flare behind his eyes. 

“I don’t even know how much time I spend in the void.” The words felt if they were pulled from her chest and she squeezed her eyes shut as a shudder ran down her spine at the thought of the cold terror of her nightmares. If she started crying now it would be awful and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop. Grimacing, she spun away and stared at the cheerfully crackling fire. 

“How old am I even supposed to be?”

“The number of years spent in the void does play a part, though they assume it’s roughly one year for every ten,” Klaus said quietly as he moved closer, his footsteps soft on the carpet. “Though the witch insisted it wasn’t an exact science. You’ve skipped roughly one hundred and ten years. So you’ve gained between twelve and twenty years of strength. Not significant in the long run, but you’d notice the difference in your finer motor skills.”

Caroline twisted around stare at him, her breathing fast. “How do you know that?”

His lips curled, something darkly satisfied in his expression. “I recently found the last of the line who cursed you. They were a fair bit more intelligent than their cousins. It didn’t save them, of course, but we negotiated their deaths and the deaths of their families on what information they could give me.”

She stared at him, trying to comprehend what he was telling her. The violence. He’d not only killed the witches but their families. But in that moment, it paled in comparison to what he hadn’t said.

“They told you how to break this?” Her words wobbled. 

Klaus’ jaw tightened, eyes bleeding into pale gold. “No. They insisted that once the spell was finished, it is nearly impossible to break it. What means that they could offer have a risk of a your permanent death, and that I will not allow.”

Caroline’s eyes burned. “That sucks.”

His head tipped in silent agreement, gaze unwavering as he watched her face. “However, there is a limit to the spell, sweetheart.”

It took a moment for her to find her voice. Her fingers curled tightly into her palms, nails digging into her skin. “What kind of limit?”

“One time skip for each witch who cast the spell, if the subject survives long enough,” he murmured, cheekbones sharpening with temper. “No human has and you’re the first vampire they’ve cursed. I’m told that ten witches attempted to curse the Bennett line, not a full thirteen. I’m still working to confirm that.”

Caroline’s eyes slid shut and she swayed. Klaus hands slid under her elbows and she gave into the urge to touch him that had been nagging her all evening. Stepping forward, Caroline pressed her face into his shoulder and squeezed his waist hard. “I’ve skipped seven times.”

Klaus’ fingers tangled in her damp hair, and his voice was low when he spoke. “I know.”

Shivering a little, she let herself have the luxury of holding onto him. It was easier to absorb what he was saying when she was pressed this tightly against him, the slow beat of his heart familiar against her ear. She’d skipped seven times. 

That meant she had between three and six to go. 

She was halfway there. 

“Did the witches say why they cast this stupid spell in the first place?” She asked finally, words thick in her throat. “Who thought this curse was a good idea?”

“Revenge,” he said softly. “It appears that Abby Bennett has made an enemy or two over the years. She is difficult to find, so they decided to aim for an easier target. One who was less mobile. It was a matter of bad luck on your part, I’m afraid. You were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

She made a low noise of frustration and tightened her grip on his shirt. Caroline wanted to think that the witches wouldn’t have cast the spell without reason, but she knew that wasn’t always the case. Witches were as monstrous as the rest of them: petty, judgemental and powerful. Humanity could be as ugly as it was beautiful.

“What did Abby do?”

Klaus smoothed her hair. “Once she has been brought to me, I will be sure to ask.”

Caroline reared back and stared at him. “Tell me you haven’t tried to kill Bonnie’s mother.”

Klaus’ face was set into unforgiving lines. “Not yet.”

“Klaus.”

His hand shifted to cup her jaw. “Bonnie Bennett and I have come to an agreement about her mother. I will not lay a finger on the vampire so long as your witch lives.”

The unspoken words that Bonnie’s life would not last an eternity ran between them. Caroline curled her fingers around his wrist but could not find the words to tell him to let it go. Whatever Abby had done, it had led to a great deal of bloodshed. It wasn’t a fight she was prepared to have with him. 

Today.

“If you knew the time slips were limited,” she finally whispered. “Why did you keep us tied together?”

To her confusion, his hand slid away from her face and she was forced to release him. But instead of stepping back, he reached into his pocket and offered her what was clearly an upgraded version of her last cellphone model. 

“That’s a phone,” she said inanely.

“It’s yours.”

“Pretty sure it’s not.” She’d had her phone on her when she’d been pulled into the skip and nothing but her clothing and the occasional hair tie ever came back out of the void.

Klaus’ mouth twitched. “I assure you, it is. You’ll find it exactly as you left it. Your friends number have remained the same.”

Caroline stared at it. “And you just… had it lying around?”

“Along with your credit cards, bank account information, ID’s and lock box keys,” Klaus stated calmly. “All the things you’ll need to seamlessly enter back into society.”

She jerked back, eyes wide. “What? Bonnie has all my things. Bonnie has…” her words died at the set of his jaw. 

“Bonnie Bennett is mortal,” he said firmly. “Though she is a witch, and I have put a number of safeguards in place to assure her continued existence, she can die. I cannot.”

Caroline threw up her hands. “That doesn’t give you the right to just… take over!”

He lifted a brow. “Why not?”

“Why not?” She repeated, voice rising in pitch. “I didn’t ask you to do this.”

His mouth tightened. “And why is that, Caroline?” She stiffened at the edge in his voice and he stepped closer, voice dipping, gaze hot. “Four skips. The first was for two weeks. The second was four years. The third was for ten. But it wasn’t until the fourth, when you went missing for seventy years, when I came looking, that I was told what was going on.”

She swallowed at the edge in his voice. “I…”

Klaus caught a damp curl between his fingers, fingering the texture for a moment before tucking it behind her ear. “The truth, love, if you don’t mind.”

Caroline let out a bitter laugh. “If I don’t mind? Do you know how much I mind? How I hate losing so much of my life, the lives of my friends?”

His jaw went rock hard. “And yet you choose to face this on your own. Did you think I would not have helped you?”

“It’s not like that,” she protested. 

“Then what is it like, Caroline? Because you’ve done everything you can to avoid discussing it.”

She glared back at his angry face. “Why does everything have to be a fight with you? Do you think I don’t realize that Bonnie is killable? That every single time I skip, I don’t have to face the idea that this might be the one where I’m in a world where she doesn’t exist?

“And yet,” he said ruthlessly. “Seventy years, Caroline; fifty-five of those in which I was aware of your curse. Then another fifteen, not a full six months after your return. In all my lifetimes, never have so many decades crawled by so slowly.”

Caroline froze, staring at the mix of emotions on his face before they disappeared, closed off behind the iron of his will. He angled away from her, facing the wide windows, and it cut into her that she’d hurt him. Not on purpose, not deliberately, but she remembered the six months he spoke of and the way he’d hovered. 

It hadn’t been suffocating, and she’d known that was a deliberate choice on his part. A text here, a call there. The way he’d shown up to argue with her about movies she’d missed and coax her out of the worst of her funks. Seventy years was hard to reconcile, and Klaus had let her set the pace as she’d tried to adjust.

Then she’d disappeared for fifteen years. 

When she’d come back, he’d been angrier and determined. That time she’d gone almost five years without a skip, the longest she’d ever been left to live her life since the curse started.  Bonnie and Klaus had used the time to research the curse and had been ruthless in their tests and their hunt for information.

It’d been during that five year stretch that Bonnie had first come up with her brilliant idea. Caroline had immediately vetoed it. Klaus had taken Bonnie’s side and they’d fought for weeks over it. Before they could figure out a compromise, she’d been tugged away for seven years, and when she’d come back, Bonnie had perfected the ritual. 

In all those years, it hadn’t occurred to her that the fact that she hadn’t called him when she’d first learned of her curse hurt him. Sinking her teeth into her lip, she started to reach for him and stopped herself. If she kept giving into her need to touch she wasn’t sure she’d stop. 

“It wasn’t… I didn’t…” she shoved her fingers through her hair and ground of her next sentence. “I didn’t want the witches to take another thing away from me. Not one thing.”

Klaus’ gaze narrowed at her words, and he twisted around to stare at her with eyes gone pale. “And what exactly does that mean?”

“Do you know what it was like, showing back up in your own life four years later? Four years, Klaus. Except I’d lived none of it. Just a blink and the world have moved without me, like I was a record on the wrong track.”

“Caroline…”

She rushed forward, her words tripping over each other. “By the time I returned, Bonnie had at least figured out that it was a curse. The coven responsible had sent her a note. Did she tell you that? They taunted her.” She struggled to keep her monster tucked away as she remembered the moment Bonnie had confessed her guilt, her eyes wide and damp. That anger that still seethed beneath her skin. “She lets the guilt eat her alive. First Elena, then me. I cannot stand that she thinks she’s at fault for any of this. I refused to let her give up her life for Elena, and I won’t let her do it for me, but nothing I say dents her need to fix something that isn’t her fault in the first place.”

“And me?” He murmured. “Because I assure you, love. My resources outstrip Bonnie Bennett’s considerably. As does my rage.”

“But it’s not fair,” Caroline blurted, shaking her head. “To ask you to come in and cleanup messes that aren’t yours. Should I have called you? Probably. And I’m so sorry you worried. But I didn’t want you to think the only reason I’d ever call you was to fix things and I just…”

Squaring her shoulders, she groped for the right words. This was too important to screw up. Seeing the rage fed by the gouges she’d unknowingly left behind, it was impossible to ignore the fact that Klaus cared. 

“We’re friends. Of a kind,” she started, voice hesitant, cheeks growing warm at just how much they weren’t just friends. “And after that first skip, I didn’t want some stupid spell to dictate when you came back into my life. It really, really sucks. And I hate it so much. But you’re important, and I just… I’m not going to just use you and then expect you to walk away all the time when I’m not ready to give you anything back. That’s not fair and I…”

Her words died as Klaus’ hand slipped back into her hair and he stepped close enough that if she breathed too deeply, her breasts would brush his chest. There was something hunting in his eyes, and she bit down on the side of her tongue to hold in a shiver. 

“Caroline.” 

This time she didn’t manage to stop her shudder, as his thumb feathered behind her ear. “What?”

A hint of a smile touched the corner of his mouth, but his eyes were dark with want. “You think this is important. That we, are important.”

Her toes curled against the floor. “Yes.”

“And,” he continued. “To be clear. You didn’t call me because?”

It was a struggle to keep from fidgeting under his unblinking gaze. “I wanted to call you for me.

Because I wanted too. Not to come in and fix something.”

His free hand curled around hers, and without breaking eye contact, he brought the underside of her wrist to warmth of his mouth. “Thank you, sweetheart. But your concerns are unnecessary.”

She tried to glare at him, but it was hard to stay mad with his mouth so close to her skin. Her monster was so greedy for the feel of him. “Excuse you?”

His smile pressed against her wrist and his gaze dropped to trace the shape of her lips. “It is no hardship, to give you what you need.”

“But…”

His teeth scraped against the veins along her wrist and she shuddered, teeth clicking as her mouth shut. “No. You are still so young, Caroline. I understood what I was saying, all those years ago when I told you my intentions. What it would ask of me. I’m a monster, and I will make no apologies for that, but I have no intention of being yours.”

She sucked in a breath at his bluntness. She wasn’t sure she would have managed it if their positions had been reversed. “I need to learn how to handle my problems on my own.”

His brow arched. “Did you not just claim we are something like friends? If you can call the Bennett witch for assistance, then I see no reason why you cannot do the same with me.”

“Yeah, well, there are some differences,” Caroline muttered. 

His eyes gleamed with amusement for a moment but his face grew serious. “Sweetheart, you cannot have imagined that I wouldn’t eventually notice your disappearance? That I would not worry?”

Caroline flinched and his fingers tightened around hers. “At first, no. It was…”

His brow rose, and he pressed her hand against the scruff of his jaw. Goosebumps trailed down her arm at the sensation, and she struggled to suppress a shiver. “It was?”

“I don’t… the world doesn’t always fit back together right away. It never occurred to me that I’d be gone so long that you’d notice.” She blew out a breath and pressed her lips tightly together at the horror she’d felt when they’d realized the extent of the curse. Klaus tugged lightly on her hand in invitation, and she gave up on keeping any kind of distance between them if he was determined to go over the details. 

“Tell me,” he coaxed once she’d settled against him, her face pressing against the side of his neck. 

“It wasn’t until the second skip that we even figured out what was happening,” she finally murmured. He was silent, but he pulled her closer, arm curving around her hips. He probably already knew all this but the words just tumbled out. “There was no warning or pattern to it. I was here one day and then I… wasn’t. Two weeks. Four years. Ten. In between the skips, I got to exit for a total of six months.” She felt her eyes grow hot and swallowed down the tears she refused to let fall. “I don’t remember the void except for when I dream about it, but it…”

He squeezed the nape of her neck at the hitch in her words. “What happens when you return?”

Caroline was silent for a long moment. “I told you I have to relearn how to exist.”

“But not the details. I want them.”

“Of course you do.” Caroline huffed, but made no move to pull away. It was easier to talk like this when she didn’t have to look at him. Now that she was talking about it, she found that she actually wanted to keep going. “The void takes something from me. It clings. And the worst the skip, the more my first instinct is to drown it out when I’m back.”

“How?”

She felt her face grow hot, wondered if he could feel it. “At first? Blood. Sex. Anything that made me feel like my body was mine again. Now I try simpler things first. I try not to eat until I stop shaking.”

“Does that bothers you?” Klaus asked. “That you’ve needed to take to survive?”

Toying with the edge of his shirt, Caroline considered his question. She wasn’t sure bother was the right word to describe how she felt about the loss of control. The way her body felt like she no longer belonged to it, how she craved sensation to drown out the echoes in her bones. 

It sucked. A lot. But other things were worse.

“I don’t like that I might hurt someone who doesn’t deserve it,” she finally admitted. 

A tug on a curl, and Klaus wound his fingers through damp strands. “Have you?”

“Yes.” The word tasted bitter. “It took me three days to find all the scattered body parts after I was gone for seventy years. There was a group of college kids out having a party and I killed all of them. I just...I wanted their families to be able to bury them whole, well, as whole as I could manage, at least. I don’t remember any of what actually happened. But sometimes I think I dream about it.”

The cold dark of the void and the hunting terror on her tongue. The sick feeling in her stomach and the greed in her bones for more. She always turned on every light in the room after one of those nightmares and opened all her windows, listening for sounds outside of her room. A reminder that she was alive and existed, even when that existence could be stolen from her. 

“The witch who decided to cast the curse is named Jolie.” Klaus said softly.

Caroline pulled back enough to see his face. “What?”

“She lives in a little cottage outside of New Orleans.” He continued, sliding his hands down to the small of her back. Anchoring her to him. “And every time you disappear, I go and pay her a visit.”

“But…” she stammered, mind racing at the hint of menace behind the word visit. “She must be…”

“Nearly a hundred and fifty years old.”

Caroline stared at him. “I don’t understand.”

His head lowered until his forehead pressed against hers, and his voice was terribly intimate as he spoke. “Would you like to know the details of those visits? I hunted Katerina. I allowed her to build and rebuild her life over and over, and I always took her little kingdoms away. Everything she touched turned to ash and dust, because I willed it. But I allowed her to have those years between, so that it would hurt more when I took everything away. I have not been so generous this time.”

“Generous,” she repeated, voice dazed. 

“Jolie’s life is small. Contained. It offers no joy, and in the wake of your disappearances, no relief.” His eyes held hers with unblinking intensity. “It will be centuries yet before I allow her the quiet of death.”

Her mouth was bone-dry as she rasped out a single word. “Why?”

Klaus’ laugh was warm on her lips, but the sound of it was as bitter as her own. “Why? For fifty-five years, your witch and I waited. There was no sign that could be given that you lived, that you would survive what had taken you. No witch I questioned had heard of such a spell, and those who might have helped instead choose to hide.”

The rage in his voice, the tenseness of his arms around her told far more of the story than his words. For seventy years, she’d tumbled through a void and for most of those, he’d waited. Once, she would have thought such a thing impossible. That anyone would choose her, choose to wait though her return was no easy thing. But Klaus had proven over and over that the regard he’d given her when she’d been so young was no fickle thing. 

Her life was all kinds of screwed up, but one day soon she was going to really think about that and her own feelings. What it meant to love a monster. But not just yet. Reaching up, Caroline placed her faintly trembling hand over his heartbeat.  “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want your apologies,” Klaus said as he straightened. “I do not need them. Not from you. Not about this. But Caroline, I will not go another half century waiting for word of your death. There is nothing I would not do to ensure your happiness, no atrocity I would not commit to keep you safe. But even I have my limits of what I can endure.”

She stared at him, the stark lines of his face. Taking a careful breath, she exhaled slowly. “Tell me why you asked Bonnie to bind us together.”

“The world changes,” he said finally, carefully. “And not always for the better. When I first broached the subject with the Bennett witch, it was to see if we could tether you to a location; create a magical bouy if you will.”

Caroline considered that. “A location? Like a house?”

A tip of his head. “The goal was to find you a you a safe haven of sorts, so that no matter what condition you were in when you landed, there would be no immediate threat. That you could receive whatever help you needed immediately.”

Her fingered tangled in the worn leather of his necklaces. “You’re definitely not a building.”

A laugh, rough and deep in his chest. “No. The spell the witches cast, it only clings to flesh and bone. To alter it, we had to bind it to the same.”

Caroline studied him and weighed his words against her anger that they’d made this choice for her when so many had been taken away. The terror and the horror of coming back to herself and finding the room painted in blood and terror, her monster gorged and so unbearably full. She gave herself just a moment to wonder how it might have been different if Klaus had been there and started to understand his point.

She didn’t have to like it though. 

“I might understand, but I don’t like the fact that you both just decided this without me.”

Klaus sighed. “I can live with your anger, sweetheart. But not your death.”

Her brows come together. “What happened that your being so much more paranoid than usual?”

His thumb traced along a knot in her spine and she struggled not to lean into the touch. “That is a story for a different night, I believe. And I will answer all your questions, though I’m sure you will not appreciate all my answers. But there are a few things you should know.”

Gaze narrowed in a silent promise she wouldn’t forget, she frowned. “Like what?”

“As I’m sure you’ve realized, we expect between there to be between three and six remaining skips.” Something dangerous flickered through his eyes. “I’ll have a firm number in another week or two. But while the witches have insisted there are no set triggers for the spell, Bonnie has been going through the grimoire collection I brought her. She will know more soon.”

“Do I want to know how you managed to find an entire grimoire collection on an impossible spell?”

His lips curled. “I did tell you the latest batch of witches were more reasonable.”

She probably didn’t want to know then.

“Okay.” She studied a small bead on his rosary, gathering her thoughts before glancing up at him. “I can deal with this. It’s better now that I know it’ll be over one day and I’m not stuck with endless cycles of losing years my life.”

His eyes softened. “I know. But until it does, I will guard what you love, Caroline. Tomorrow, we’ll go through my properties and you can decide if you like one enough to call it yours until this is over.”

She blinked. “Klaus…”

“You can’t want to spend what time you have between skips in a guest room, Caroline. There is the potential for years between them, after all. When the curse is gone, when you are free, I will not clip your wings. Everything of yours in my keeping is yours to take back whenever you wish. But providing you with a safe place where you can live while we wait this out is no hardship.”

“I’ll think about,” she said finally. About all the things he was offering her. He nodded and she took a bracing breathe. “Tell me about the spell Bonnie cast.”

“Your witch is certain it will dissolve with your curse,” Klaus assured her. “And if it doesn’t, it is not a difficult spell to break. Simple is sometimes best, when it comes with magic.”

“And it only does what you’ve said?” She pushed. “You’re now my indestructible magical buoy, and the spell drops me within a set radius of you when we it spits me back out. That’s it?”

His mouth tilted up at the edge. “You don’t trust me?”

She scoffed. “Not about this.”

“So suspicious,” he teased, eyes warm. “It does everything as we’ve told you. The only  additional component is that it allows me to sense you, for lack of a better word. It’s how I felt your return tonight. But more importantly, it means I know that you are alive, no matter how long you are gone. I would know if something went wrong the moment it happened.”

Her heart lept into her throat. “Aware of me how?”

Klaus shook his head. “It’s strongest when you first land. Right now, it’s so faint it’s barely discernible. When you are in the void, it’s softer still. A pulse I must look for to feel, but one I know quite well.”

“Oh,” Caroline said softly, turning it over in her mind. What such a spell would mean and she nodded. “That’s okay then.”

He arched a brow. “It is?”

She gave him a reproachful look. “I don’t want you or Bonnie to worry, Klaus. It’s better for you to know if something goes wrong, than for you to always look at the future and wonder. That I don’t mind, as long as it is all it does.”

“Hmm,” Klaus murmured. 

“You cannot think I’d argue over a way to tell if I lived or died in the void?” She asked in exasperation. “Bonnie, at least, would deserve to know.”

Her fingers tangled in his necklace despite her biting words, and a dimple peaked from his cheek. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Do,” Caroline suggested as her fingers brushed his throat. “You should also note that I’m going to be super pissed if I get dunked into something like the Arctic Ocean. No trips to Antarctica when I’m not here.”

“Noted,” he murmured, voice low and warm. His gaze dropped to trace the curve of her mouth, and Caroline become achingly aware of every place they were pressed together. The splay of his hands, low on her back. “I’m sure if it did happen, I could make it up to you.”

Her pulse jumped, and she took a shaky breath. “Do you really want to test that?”

Klaus made a low noise in his throat. “I believe I  have an idea or two that might coax you into forgiving me after such an unfortunate event. But perhaps such a thing should be a surprise?”

The heat in his eyes, the way his thumb had started to trace shapes against the bumps of her spine left her with a number of ideas. But such a thing should not be encouraged. “No frozen oceans, Klaus. Penguins are cute but I don’t want to swim with them.”

“And what do you want, Caroline?” He asked. “You’ve stopped shaking since I’ve had my hands on you, but you must be hungry. Have you waited long enough to take a bite?”

Her fingers clenched around his necklace. “I already ate all the fries.”

“I wasn’t talking about the food.” His smile was sin, and he pulled her hips flush against his. “You should know that I’m willing to satisfy any number of your appetites.”

Caroline curled her arms around his neck and her eyes lingered on his mouth. “I know.”

“Then why the hesitation?” His nose brushed hers, eyes hotly amused. “I remember our time in the woods as being quite good for you. You came for me how many times?”

“Four,” she rasped as his eyes darkened. “And wanting you isn’t the problem.”

“No?”

She shook her head, fingers tunneling through the soft curls at his nape. This she could admit to when it had never really been a secret anyway. “Wanting you was never the problem, Klaus. It’s that I might want you too much.”

Klaus’ smile was a quick, brilliant flash. “Good.”

His head lowered, lips brushing lightly against hers in a clear invitation, and she took it. Fingers fisting in his curls, Caroline opened her mouth hungrily against his. The last time they’d kissed, it’d been rushed. Greedy. A bit of the forbidden mingled with the white hot chemistry that had always been between them. This kiss was slow, just as hungry, but sweeter. He kissed her like he wanted to savor every taste.

His hand slipped beneath her shirt, his palm a brand on her spine, and she complained low in her throat when he tried to lift his head. He smiled, teeth sinking briefly along her bottom lip before he finally pulled briefly away from her mouth. “You need blood.”

She shivered at the reminder, the roughness of his voice. Tugging on his hair to tip his head back, she pressed her lips beneath his jaw, tongue snaking out for a tiny taste. “Are you sure?”

As much as she wanted to dig in her teeth and gorge, she just needed a little assurance that he understood what he was offering. It was probably a little silly, with the hard edge of his cock pressed against her thigh, but her past had left scars. Standing so close, Klaus letting her take her fill of what she needed to slot her pieces back together had helped settle her. But once she had him on her tongue, she was going to want so much more. 

“I’m sure,” he murmured, eyes softening even as he tipped his head just enough to meet her eyes. His gaze ran over her face hungrily, taking in the hint of veins that were just visible beneath her eyes. “Take what blood you need, Caroline. Then I’ll take you to my bed and drown you in whatever sensation you want.”

Her vampire crawled up the surface then, fangs sharp behind her lips. The bright gold of his eyes never blinked and he shifted, offering his neck. “So utterly lovely, your monster.”

Caroline pressed her mouth to slow thud of his pulse, savoring the feel of him before letting herself have the taste he’d promised. Klaus made a low noise in his chest, hands pulling her closer but all she cared about was the taste of his blood on her tongue. Fresh blood was always so good, but Klaus was better. And her monster had been starved for too long. She took her time, drinking deep before letting her tongue run across the rapidly closing punctures, making sure she’d caught every drop.

When she finally lifted her head, Caroline felt better than she had in ages. The worst of the shakes had eased, the chill of the void lessened and what remained was overwhelmed by the familiar blood high and the ache of her growing arousal. When she met Klaus’ gaze, his monster was watching her with the same need as she licked her mouth clean.

“So utterly lovely,” he repeated before his head dipped and he sucked her lower lip between his. Caroline moaned, the sound turning into a gasp as his double fangs scraped her lip bloody. Whining as her blood mingled with the taste of him, she surged against mouth. 

Kissing Klaus had been her very first indulgence of him as a man, and the taste and feel of him had been a gateway drug all those years ago. This time was no different. His hand in her hair, the small noise in the back of his throat as she sucked on his tongue, the way he pulled her closer as he angled her mouth for more. Her head spun, and her fingers fisted in his shirt until she heard seams pop and she still couldn’t get close enough. 

He tangled his fingers in her hair, and eased her head back as he nudged her backwards. She gripped his shoulders, moaning as he dropped open mouthed kisses along the column of her neck. Her fingers gripped his shirt as her butt hit the back of the couch, and he released her hair to steady her.

“Tell me how you feel.”

Caroline tried to grasp his question as one hand slid beneath her shirt, his fingers teasing the waistband of her borrowed pants. “What?”

His lips curved against her jaw and he bit lightly. “I remember everything about our last encounter, love, but you seem particularly sensitive tonight. Is that usual?”

She nodded, breath shuddering as his fingers slipped lower. “Yes. Very. I…” her words cut off as his fingers slid into her underwear, bypassing her aching clit to delve between her wet folds, slicking his fingers. Klaus leaned back to watch her face as he teased her.

“You came so prettily first me on the ruin of our clothes, but I can be so much better tonight. Is it pure sensation that chases away the void, sweetheart or do you need orgasms?” His voice deepened as he pressed a single finger deeper, thumb starting a slow pattern across her clit.

“I don’t know,” She panted, leaning heavily against him as she rocked against his hand. She always got off fast after the first time she fed on her return, but how quickly her body was lighting up for him was insane. Klaus’ gaze locked with hers and she struggled to keep her eyes open and her words coherent as he added a second finger inside her. It was a struggle to find a coherent thought, much less words. “When… when it’s just me, I have to rely on orgasms. And my vibrator. When I have a partner, I haven’t really let any of them...”

She moaned as he hit that perfect spit inside her, words dying in her throat, nails digging into his skin as her vision went hazy at the edges. 

The hand braced against her spine moved to slide against bare skin, and the heat of his palm on her back, the slight scrape of his callouses, was almost a sensory overload.

“Play?” Klaus asked teasingly as he increased the pressure on her clit. 

“Too greedy,” she finally gasped, voice thick. There was more she wanted to say, to admit to, but it ceased to matter as the start of her orgasm rippled through her and she pressed her face into his throat with a cry. The faint bite of his nails against back, the careful movements of his fingers prolonged her orgasm until she was gasping. 

Caroline stayed pressed against him until her heartbeat finally slowed, lifting her head as Klaus eased his hand free of her underwear. She sank her teeth hard into her lower lip as he brought his slick fingers to his mouth, licking the tips clean. 

“I like greedy,” he murmured as he moved to tug at the waistband of her pants in question before helping her ease them down her trembling thighs. “I’d be delighted to give you as many orgasms as you can take, sweetheart, but perhaps we should experiment so that I can be better prepared for your next skip, hmm?”

His hands settled on the back of her bare thighs and she swallowed. She wasn’t sure better prepared would be good for her sanity. But…

“Experiment?”

His dimples were sinful. “How would you feel if I tied you to a headboard? The one in my room should suffice. We’ll see just how much sensation you can handle, what you need, before I wrap my lips around your clit and let you come against my tongue. I’m going to want a much better taste of you.”

She inhaled sharply at his words, her abdomen going tight at the low voiced offer. Fingers sliding into his hair, she debated his offer. “Tie me with what?”

His thumb brushed just beneath the curve of her ass. “I might have a silk scarf or two lying around.”

Caroline snorted and tugged on his hair. “I’m not letting you tie me to the bed with anything that’s so much as touched another woman.”

Klaus bent his head and sank his fangs into the soft curve of her mouth, and she arched against him with a whine. He didn’t take much, a mere mouthful, but he sucked on lower lip into until it stopped bleeding. Pulling back, his eyes gleamed. “I do so enjoy your jealousy, Caroline.”

She spluttered, but Klaus gripped the back of her thighs and lifted her onto her toes. Caroline took the hint, jumping to hook her thighs around his hips. The hard edge of his erection pressed against the damp line of her panties, and she rocked against it. Shuddering at how good the pressure felt, she repeated the motion as he encouraged her with a low moan, hips shifting until she found the perfect angle. 

Klaus’ lips feathered along her jaw, teeth nipping below her ear and her thighs clenched around his waist. His lips curved against her neck, lips chasing the line of her throat when her head tipped back in a silent demand for more. 

“Bed,” she finally managed to grit out. “I want that bed.” His teeth scraped a particularly sensitive spot on her neck before world blurred, and she glanced around as they came to a halt. The room was opulent and full of windows, but it was impossible to notice a chill with Klaus pressed so tightly against her. He laved at the hollow of her collarbones, pulling her attention back to him before he lowered her gently onto the bed, encouraging her legs to release him.

For a moment she just stared up at him in the low light, his curls wild from her fingers and his eyes so hungry it was impossible to feel anything but the same greed. Something warm bubbled in her chest, arousal put aside for a single moment as they watched each other. “Hey,” she said with a small smile.

His laugh was soft, and he chased her smile with soft lips. “I adore you like this,” he told her, his inhale against her skin followed by another pleased noise. “My scent all over you; the smell of you hot and slick and waiting for me. I want to taste you.”

Caroline shivered and scooted back to make room for him. That was an offer she wasn’t going to refuse, not when she ached for him. “I thought you were going to?”

His smile was dimpled. “Take off your shirt.”

Her fingers shook a little as she did as he asked before reaching for her bra clasp. He’d torn right through her bra the last time they’d had sex, and just then it was her only option. Tossing it to the side, she ran her eyes along his rumbled figure. 

“Are you going to join me?” She reached over to tug on his shirt collar. “Off.”

He crawled onto the bed, head bent to skim along the flushed skin of her abdomen before skimming one breast before he encouraged to settle deeper into his pillows. Under her heavy lidded gaze, Klaus impatiently worked at the buttons on his shirt. When she reached for the newly barred flesh, he caught her hands and kissed her palms. “Not yet, I think.”

“Seriously?” She complained, fingers flexing against his. “I want to touch too.”

He nipped one fingertip before licking away the sting. “Later, you may do as you wish. But right now, I get to touch you. We have a few theories to test, do we not?”

“You really want to tie me to the bed?” Her woods came out a bit breathless, stomach fluttering with fresh arousal. Instead of answering, Klaus’ smile turned slightly wicked and then he disappeared before returning quickly and holding a long strip of silk the same golden shade as champagne. He crawled onto the bed and draped it across her breasts with a considering look. She bit the side of her tongue to keep from making a noise at the slide of fabric across stiff nipples that the silk did nothing to hide. 

“Yes,” he said softly, his finger gliding a line down her belly. “It’s as pretty against your skin as I’d imagined, but perhaps next time something a shade or two darker.”

“You just…”

His glanced at her face from beneath his lashes, smile turning a touch lascivious. “A bit of silk is easy enough to keep on hand, and I’ve thought you often enough over the years that I might have a hopeful purchase or two lying around.”

“Oh.”

Klaus tipped his head to the side and studied her face. “We can save this for another night, sweetheart. Something to anticipate perhaps, if you’d prefer.”

Caroline thought about it and shook her head. “No, it’s not that. I’ve just never tried this before but I want too.”

“If you are uncomfortable at any point, we will stop.” His smile turned wicked, dimples creasing his cheeks. “This particular silk has only been touched by the witch who spelled it. Does that meet your requirements?”

Heat flushed through her at his words and she swallowed. “What else do you have tucked away?”

His chuckle was rough, tongue snaking across his lips. “A few things, but I thought we had agreed that some of them should be a surprise.”

“Surprises are generally not my favorite,” she pointed out, voice holding steady even as he circled one nipple with a fingertip. The rasp of silk felt good, but she wanted his mouth there instead. 

“Oh, I imagine there might be a time or two I could talk you into them,” he murmured, voice dipping low and coaxing. “Tonight I’ll tie you to my bed, but perhaps after we’ve learned just what you can handle, what you like post-skip you’ll let me blindfold you as well, hmm? There are a number of items that can be used to enhance such an experience. Soft, exploratory touches until you’re languid and wet, until your body craves the orgasm I’d give you. Eventually. I think you’d enjoy a number of surprise then.”

Her inhale was shaky at the flutter of arousal that washed through her at his words. “I like to watch.”

Klaus’ eyes gleamed. “Do you? There might be a mirror around here somewhere can make use of later. Right now, hands above your head, sweetheart.”

Wiggling around into a slightly more comfortable position, she settled her wrists near the headboard. Klaus gathered the silk and reached up, wrapping her wrists firmly before securing them up the headboard. 

“All right?”

Caroline wiggled her fingers and nodded. “Yes.”

“Good,” he murmured gaze trailing down the line of her torso and lingering on her bare thighs. “Tell me if that changes. For any reason, Caroline.” 

“I will.”

Klaus made a noise of approval in his chest, his hands resting on the curve of her inner thighs. She shivered at the sensation of his callouses dragging lightly against her skin as his thumbs stroked upward, but never quite reached where she wanted him. Squirming, Caroline curled her fingers into the silk. “I thought you were going to touch me.”

“Am I not?” He questioned, hands easing her thighs wider. The sweep of his gaze was lascivious, and his one corner of his mouth curved upwards as his eyes met hers. “You’ll have to forgive me. I’ve fantasized many times of having my very own Caroline-feast, but to actually have you here? I plan on taking my time tonight, Caroline. Last time we rushed, and while the sight of you with leaves in your hair as you came on my cock is one I have thought of often there are many benefits to a bed, hmm?”

His head bent, lips skimming ever so softly along her abdomen. She strained against his hold, thighs tensing at the hint of teeth. A slow, dangerous smile curled against her belly and he hummed in thought. Caroline moaned as he sucked on a spot just above her navel, gooseflesh breaking out across her skin. 

“Klaus, come on.”

He glanced up then, pupils wide against the yellow of his wolf. “I believe I promised you play,” he reminded as he settled against her, the coarse fabric of his dress pants tantalizing against her bare thighs. She curled her legs around his waist but he didn’t let her arch against him, the flex of hips pinning hers to the bed. Instead his mouth settled at the base of her throat, tongue a hot, velvet slide in the hollow between her collarbones. “As much as you can bear.”

His words puffed against her nipple, and the stroke of his tongue was better. He kept the pressure light, a mere tease of heat and sensation, and she arched her back, chasing his mouth. His hum of pleasure vibrated against her skin and her knees pressed tightly against his sides. When he finally lifted his head, he cupped her neglected breast and squeezed lightly, gaze locked on the shape of her breast in his palm.

“More,” Caroline demanded impatiently. “More.”

“I told you I’d give you what you wanted,” he reminded her, tongue a velvet counterpoint to his words. He kept his pace agonizingly slow, each brush of his tongue, the slight burn of his beard against her skin a deliberate seduction of her senses. He chased every twitch, every moan until she was quivering beneath him. 

It was better with him, easier to let Klaus keep her centered than she could ever remember it being with her previous lovers. Her fingers tangled in silk and her body burned for the orgasm he hadn’t let her chase, and she couldn’t feel even a hint of the void lingering. 

“Have you decided?” Klaus asked, gaze flickering to her flushed face as he licked at her trembling abdomen. 

Caroline shook her head, not comprehending the question as he eased further down her body. She unwound her legs, letting him spread her thighs wide as he settled on his elbows. Only the soaked fabric of her panties separated her throbbing clit from his mouth and she wanted them gone. 

“What pushes the void away, love?” His voice was indulgent, breath hot against her thigh before he rested his cheek there, scrapping the sensitive skin red and she twisted her hands in the silk of her toes, moaning. He repeated the motions on her other thigh, gaze returning to her face once he was satisfied by the lingering marks that would quickly fade. “Caroline?”

She dragged her thoughts to the surface. “I think,” she finally managed, voice hoarse with need. “I need another orgasm. To compare.”

His smile was wicked in all the best ways as he snapped the band of her panties, tugging the clinging fabric away from her body. His eyes gleamed gold, gaze dipping. “Do you?”

Klaus didn’t give her a chance to reply, mouth sealing over her clit. Her toes curled into the sheets as he tasted her with a slow drag of his tongue before his forearms settled across her thighs, holding her hips in place as he drove her mad with his tongue. He lingered between her thighs, seemingly content to taste and tease until she was mindless with need. Her gasping breaths went ragged, as the slow buildup gave way to the perfect flicks of his tongue, the suction of his mouth, and her body locked in place as she shouted through her release.

When she finally gained her senses, she watched hazily as he moved to forcefully removed his pants. She was certain she heard seams ripping, a button popping free, but it didn’t matter when he settled between her thighs, his cock hot and hard between them. The sight of his swollen lips, slick from her release and the flush of his cheekbones, the stark need in his eyes, left her craving more. 

“You said I could have what I wanted,” she rasped, thigh hooking over his hip to reel him closer. “And I want you inside me. Right now.”

The expletive that fell from his lips as his cock nestled against her slickness her was gratifying, the way his breathing shuddered against her throat more so. Their combined moans as he nudged inside her was better, and it was all she could do to absorb the feel of him, the way he felt thick and full inside of her. 

“Perfect,” he gritted out, hand sliding beneath her back to arch help support her spine. “Always so bloody perfect.”

He didn’t give her a chance to reply, hips starting a slow grind, the drag of his cock torturously good. His mouth was hot against her throat, the edges of his fangs a tease as he tested both of their control. Caroline arched against him, rubbing her breasts against chest as she hunted for more sensation, more of him. Klaus groaned and his teeth scraped her skin, his tongue catching the drops of blood brought to the surface. 

It wasn’t until she begged, his name a babble of words, that he gave her what she wanted, what they both needed. The unexpected snap of his hips, the feel of his hand sliding between them to toy with her clit sent her careening, Klaus right behind her as she clamped around him, the pulse of her orgasm turning the world hazy.

Soft, feathering kisses brought her back to awareness, and she shifted her arms with a faint sound of complaint. A moment later the silk loosened, and she slipped her wrists free, tangling one hand in his hair. 

“I liked both,” Caroline said a little roughly. 

Klaus smiled, pressing a hot, open mouthed kiss against her sternum. “I can think of a few more things you might like.”

“Like what?”

His smile grew and he slipped back down her body, his lips dragging across her skin.“I want you to watch this time. And after, we’ll see about finding that mirror, hmm?”

Klaus had been correct. She liked a great many things he suggested that night, until she fell asleep pressed against him, pliant and happily exhausted.

-

Caroline woke with a jolt, breathing harsh in her throat. For a moment, she forgot where she was though she was toasty warm and comfortable. Her half-wild gaze locked with Klaus’ from where she was half-buried beneath him, and her most recent memory returned in a rush. 

Blinking away the remains of a dream she couldn’t really remember, she looked around. “What time is it?”

“Early.” Klaus propped himself on an elbow, but didn’t make a move to shift away from her. “Nightmares?”

She reached up to card her fingers through his sex-fluffed hair as she chased the tendrils of what had woken her. “I don't know.”

His hand settled on her hip, thumb tracing along the shape of bone, and his eyes were intent. “Does this happen often?”

Her lips curved sardonically. “Yes. It’ll smooth out once my mind catches up with the rest of me.”

Klaus’ eyes narrowed. “How long does it usually take?”

She shrugged. “There doesn’t seem to be a specific timeline. Sometimes it's a few days, other times I never notice an issue. I did talk to Bonnie about it but she didn’t have much advice. Brains are weird, I suppose.”

He didn’t respond to her attempt to lighten the mood, gaze going distant as he clearly planned something but Caroline found she didn’t mind. It was nice, lingering in bed this way, his naked skin pressed against her own. It wasn’t something she’d have every thought he would want or that she would enjoy with him. It was another piece of a puzzle she really did need to figure out. 

Finally, it was Klaus who broke the silence. “How are you feeling? Do you need more blood?”

Caroline stretched a little beneath him, testing her muscles and ignoring the first stirring of arousal at his offer. Her vampirism had kicked in with fervor after she’d fed from Klaus and today everything felt normal. It was in fact the best she’d felt in years. It wasn’t just his blood, or the amazing sex, but the fact that he’d given her concrete facts. There was a quasi-plan in place that she fully intended to make it something with more bullet points and contingencies, but for the first time since this curse had started, she had answers.

And even if some of them sucked, she had them.

Lips curling, she let the pad of her fingers skim down his check, lingering at the curve of his jaw. “Good. I feel really good.”

A hint of gold brightened his eyes. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Did you have plans for today?”

“Not anymore.”

She huffed, but couldn’t quite stop her smile. “I don’t want to interfere with whatever plans you have.”

“None of them were particularly important,” he dismissed easily. “A spot or two of murder, intimidating the local population into remembering whose suffrage they exit on. They’ll still be here once we have you settled.”

His gaze turned teasing, and she rolled her eyes but didn’t move to shove him away. “How lucky for them.”

Klaus shook against her, his laughter near silent, his gaze affectionate when he looked at her. “And what about you? What would you like to do today?”

She needed to call Bonnie, have her tell her all about her research. She was pretty sure Klaus had said something about notes? She was going to read them and make them both answer all her questions until she was satisfied she knew every possible fact. Then she was going to bully him into taking her somewhere warmer, because she did not like snow and she refused to be cooped up inside for whatever time she had until her next skip.

But all of that could come a little later. 

“I want a bath,” she decided. “I bet yours is even nicer than the one in my room.”

“It might be,” he conceded. 

Caroline teased the hint of his dimple with her fingertips. “Want to join me?”

His smile deepened beneath her touch, and something lurched in her chest. They had so much to work out between them, and some things would have to wait until the curse no longer lingered over her head, but for the first time in ages, she felt excited about the future. 

Because this man? She could never, ever tell him, but his plans, his being there? They’d made all the difference for her. They were going to ride this curse out and one day, she was going to have a long talk with Jolie. She’d be around when Caroline was ready for it. She knew Klaus would ensure it. 

But that was a plan for another day. 

Leaning forward before he could answer her invitation, she kissed him lightly, more affection than heat, lingering against his mouth because she could. For a moment, her moved against his his warm and lazy, but neither of them were satisfied for long. The kiss deepened, turned hot and wet quickly, and Caroline tugged him back into the bedding. They were going to totally have bath sex later but she had no problem seeing just how filthy they could get before they left the bed. 

[words-writ-in-starlight]

hi, it's the adhd anon again. according to the dsm-v, i think i have it, which is weird bc i've never seen myself as having more trouble than others. (my grades are better than almost anyone else in my grade.) (although that might just be bc i'm interested in what's being taught - when something's not interesting or too hard, i have a pretty hard time doing it.) anyway, if it's not too much trouble, what does feel like to stim/hyperfixtate for you? (i'm so sorry to bother you in advance)

Hey, dude, welcome back!  So, okay, first things first: the stereotype of someone with ADHD automatically doing terribly in school is based heavily on the original diagnostic criteria, which categorized ADHD strictly in terms of “young hyperactive white boy who has violent outbursts and/or disciplinary problems and Just Doesn’t Do Well in academics.”  And there are people who manifest ADHD like that, it’s a stereotype with roots in reality--a lot of people with ADHD either consistently struggle with academics or eventually reach a point where their previous focusing techniques fail them.

However.

I left high school for college two years early, and if I hadn’t, I would probably been valedictorian of the graduating class, because I had a GPA well above 4.0 due to my general habit of doing extra credit whenever it was offered.  In college, I had a reputation for turning in beautifully complete lab reports and essays five pages over the minimum requirement.  I got high honors on my thesis, graduated magna cum laude, and finished a pre-medical major in half the recommended time period.  When I was a kid, the phrase “savant syndrome” got thrown around a lot, to give you some context.

On the other hand, I manifest a lot of those stereotypical ADHD symptoms: I’m loud, I interrupt people a lot, I have erratic and overwhelming mood swings that I struggle to control, I fidget incessantly and can’t stand silence, I have a tendency to get destructive when I’m angry, I have managed to seriously injure myself because I couldn’t resist a stupid impulse more than once, and if we’re all being honest, I would never have graduated high school at all, because I was on the brink of expulsion for getting into fights during class periods.  

It’s easy to feel like “I never really struggled academically” is somehow a counterargument to any and all symptoms of ADHD that you might manifest, but it’s really not.  (Heck, sometimes ADHD is even helpful--I finished my thesis a full week before anyone else and had time to fix my citations, mostly because my ADHD responds well to pressure and that crunch time hyperfocus Had My Back.)  It might take time for you to come to terms with this idea, and that’s okay!  But try to at least consider it.

All that being said, I am actually gonna answer your question, I just got distracted because the amount of time I spent making the statement “I’m faking having ADHD because I did well in school” is mindblowing and I have a Thing about it.  Forgive my ramble.

Stimming: I’m going to answer this first because the answer is going to be the most useless.  The ways I stim tend to be vocal/auditory stuff (I talk a lot when I’m alone, I sing and play music when I’m doing menial tasks, if I’m really anxious I’ll hum a single note until I calm down) or tactile stuff (sometimes destructive things like scratching my arms, sometimes neutral stuff like tapping my fingers in specific patterns or rubbing my palms over my jeans or the leather of a jacket or something).  It’s mostly things that ‘pass’ for neurotypical with very few exceptions, because I trained myself out of a lot of my ‘non-passing’ stims (rocking back and forth, knocking into walls, hand-flapping, that sort of thing) really young.  As for what it feels like to stim, it’s just...good.  It’s sort of like the brain equivalent of running your hand the right way along velvet, and discovering that you’ve been rubbing it backwards all along.  Or like the equivalent of stepping into a cool shower on a really hot day--it’s not that it’s miserable outside the shower, it’s just that the shower is extremely good.  I have a playlist of music that, for whatever reason, hits the right combination of voice and rhythm and notes and words to make my brain suddenly get calm, and it’s not necessarily my favorite music or a cohesive collection of tunes or anything (featuring Six Shooter by Coyote Kisses and also Human by Rag’n’Bone Man, which have nothing in common), but it’s Good.

Hyperfocus: You didn’t actually mention this, but I think it’s worth mentioning because it’s one of the hallmarks of ADHD.  It bears more than a passing resemblance to the concept of “flow”, but turned up to 11.  Hyperfocus is the state of being so overwhelmingly tuned in to the thing you’re currently doing that everything else falls away--which is fine, unless you’re one of us folks who can hyperfocus ourselves right through meal times.  It’s inexorable, it’s all-consuming, and it can feel pretty fucking great, which is why it’s important to be careful and find a way to hydrate yourself.  The primary difference between hyperfocus and flow is that hyperfocus is generally involuntary and does not necessarily tune you into something you planned or wanted to pay attention to.  If you ever see me publish a fic that includes a note about “I didn’t mean to write this but it’s 2 AM so here”, that’s code for “please validate me, I’ve been hyperfocused on this for two or three hours and I failed to do a lot of important things as a result.”  The other thing about hyperfocus is that afterwards, the drop coming off it is a real bitch.  It leaves me feeling hollowed out, exhausted, and kind of pettily disinterested in anything that would usually hold my attention.  Being hyperfocused is like being a machine designed to do one thing and one thing only and doing that thing feels incredible; coming off hyperfocus is like being an overtired toddler.

Hyperfixation: Hyperfixations are the ADHD equivalent of a special interest, aka: that thing you’ve been struggling not to pester every single person you know about, every single second of every single day of the past two and a half weeks.  Were you around, dear anon, when this blog was Only Animorphs, All The Time, and if you didn’t give a shit about morphin’ teens you just had to sit down, shut up, and learn some stuff, or else unfollow me?  That’s what hyperfixating looks like.  Sometimes it’s useful stuff--do you know how unbelievably useful having a hyperfixation on triage techniques is to me?  I crushed my triage training, I owned that shit, I wrote a whole chapter of my thesis on it.  Other times, it’s...well, Animorphs.  Or the American Revolution.  Or X-Men.  Or dinosaurs.  Some random shit like that.  Learning about hyperfixations, talking about them, is generally pure unadulterated joy.  On the other hand--oh, God, listen, I know how annoying I am, but I cannot stop myself.  I know I haven’t talked about anything but Animorphs in three weeks, I know I’ve made forty-five TAZ posts today, whatever you’re about to complain about, I already know, okay, I am aware, and there is nothing more painful than to have a fucking out-of-body experience watching yourself rattle on about a hyperfixation while the other person obviously gets bored in front of you.  And then you try to keep your mouth shut and it physically hurts not to talk about the thing.  It’s hard to describe what it ‘feels’ like except that ADHD brains are magpies at their core and hyperfixations are the shiny, shiny objects your brain wants to take home.

Anyway, I’m not sure how useful ANY of this has been, but like.  After a certain point, you kind of have to trust yourself enough to decide, once and for all, whether you really, truly believe you’re faking a neurological disorder for the attention.  If the answer is no, then great!  You have sussed out your symptoms and can start managing them accordingly, whether that’s some helpful apps on your phone or medication or something in between.  If the answer is yes, then you probably need some therapy, and your therapist will be able to help you get to a point where you feel able to trust yourself.

Go with the neurodivergent gods, my dude.

[hillnerd-art]

character meme! Got a request from @tinawantscookies for Lavender Brown.

Got anonymous requests for Sirius, Rose, Dominique, and the Scamander Twins

First Impression

Impression now

Favorite moment

Idea for a story

Unpopular opinion

Favorite relationship

Favorite headcanon

answers under the cut

SIRIUS BLACK

First impression after my first read of PoA he was my fave character. This book was the one that got me hooked on HP. His Count of Monte Cristo-like story, the angst, how charming he was. I just loved him. My best friend and I wrote two long fics together back in high school where he was at the center of most of the hijinks.

Impression now I still have a deep-seated love for him, but he sort of fell further down the fave list a bit during book 5. His death shook me, and I literally threw the book across the room back in 2003 from the shock of it. So my obsession sort of fell off a bit, as there wasn’t much to explore with him. I still love him, and he still up there for characters I love. I’ve drawn him a lot over the years, and even written fics over the years too. He remains an interesting, and tragic, figure in the series. His death was just so so unnecessary and heartbreaking. I don’t think I’ll ever really get over it.

Favorite moment Probably when he tells Harry about being his godson and that he’d like Harry to live with him. Such a sweet moment.

Idea for a story I’ve written one. I’d like more stories exploring the infamous werewolf prank on Snape, more stories about him rebelling against his parents, more about his relationship with his brother, more of how he and James became besties.

Unpopular opinion I don’t think he and Remus were together romantically after the prank on Snape. I think that it broke their trust - they remained friends, but I can see that being something they could never recover from fully. Thus Sirius thought Remus would be the traitor later on, since they weren’t as close anymore. I don’t think they got back together after he was back either. They’d become too different from each other - and though they were so grateful to have the other back, it could never be like it was when they were young boys caught up in their own cleverness without anything that had ever gone wrong in their relationship.

Favorite relationship Sirius and Harry, or him and James. So pure. Him and Remus is so sad to me so much of the time. :( I love it though. I also like seeing him buddying with Tonks.

Favorite headcanon Sirius discovering muggle culture and throwing himself into it- band t-shirts, motorcycle and all.

LAVENDER BROWN

First impression  She reminded me of the girls I was not friends of in school. I had nothing against them, but we had nothing in common. They’d write in that girly middleschool handwriting with hearts on the i’s, giggle about boys, never seemed to care about politics, history, or nerdy stuff in general.

Impression now  She’s a sweet, strong woman who really stuck by her beliefs and friends. Her involvement in the DA didn’t make an impression on me the first go around, but the more I think on her, and see her turned into a monster in fics, the more I want to defend her. I get that people want to hate on her for keeping Ron from Hermione- but she didn’t. She liked Ron, so she went for him and made it clear she did. Good on her! Hermione could have learned a thing or two from her. :)

Favorite moment   He rnaming her rabbit binky and being so attached to it is so sweet. Lav is so adorable.

Idea for a story  I like to think she survived the battle of hogwarts (feebly stirring) but has some pretty awful scars- and has to work on accepting herself with some scars/deformity- not because she was shallow- but because it’s hard for anyone to work through that- and I think Lav is the sort to be an inspiration to others because of her work and future advocacy for survivors like herself.

Unpopular opinion  Lavender is a sweet girl and I think she deserved better than the relationship she had with Ron. Poor thing should have been treated better and did nothing wrong at all.

Favorite relationship  Her and Parvati’s friendship.

Favorite headcanon  ties into idea for a story, i guess.

ROSE WEASLEY

First impression  Rose is a chip off the ol’ Hermione block- described as having brains, and already in her new school robes like a nerd. :P I immedaitely shipped her with Scorpius

Impression now  Um I love her and am obsessed with drawing her, as I love drawing curly hair and red hair. :D So I picture her as being this firecracker who is basically a hyped up combo of her parents- like Hermione she is very smart and a total bibliophile with giant hair, like her dad she curses up a storm, eats like the world is running out of food, and is red headed, blue eyed, freckled and tall. She is fiercely competitive, a bit overdramatic, and is quick to put her foot in her mouth because she has no filter. Despite all this, she means well, is highly curious, and is the defender of the downtrodden.

Favorite moment  She and Albus looking solemn when Ron says he’ll disinherit them. ;)

Idea for a story  You mean besides the one I’m writing? :D I love Rose and Scorpius friendship stories, and ones of her and her parents bonding over things.

Unpopular opinion  I’m not sure what would be an unpopular opinion of her? I hated what they did with her in Curse Child.

Favorite relationship  Her and Scorpius, and her and Ron.

Favorite headcanon  She is a daddy’s girl, through and through, and thinks he can do no wrong.

DOMINIQUE WEASLEY

First impression  Well, she’s not in the books- so at first she was a non-entity to me and it was hard for me to imagine who she was as a person.

Impression now  It took a while for me to get a bead on her, but now I like her quite a lot. I see Dom as being a bit of a tom-boy who marches to her own drum. She’s not the rebellious kid who yells and tries to get attention- she’s the kind who just quietly does as she pleases and if they don’t like it- eff ‘em. She’s very implacable and hard to shock/get a reaction from. She’s the kind who legit wills herself into not being ticklish. I see her as hanging out mostly with boys, and enjoying quidditch. She was the first Weasley to be sorted into a house other than Gryffindor, and was happy to be different, where most kids might be upset or unsure. I headcanon her as Ravenclaw- and she loves lording it over James when she steals the quaffle from him in a match.

Favorite moment  n/a

Idea for a story  I’d like any story that explores more of the dynamics at Bill and Fleur Weasley’s house. They’re always from Victoire’s perspective, so it would be nice to see something from her or Louis’s perspective.

Unpopular opinion  I see her as queer. Not sure if that’s unpopular or not, but I don’t see much of her in fandom in general.

Favorite relationship  Hmm… I guess her and James makes me laugh the most, as I see her being one of the only people able to actually get him rattled. Her, Teddy and Fred are the only ones. Lily only when she’s about to tattle on him.

Favorite headcanon  She cuts her hair short at school one time because she was tired of it, and felt it just wasn’t working for her. She does an awful job of it, and expects it will piss her mum off- but is surprised when all she gets is a ‘You were so right to cut your hair, you look so much better with it short. but tsk tsk let’s fix your layers. If you’re going to cut your hair, do it right. Here, let me show you!’

LORCAN AND LYSANDER SCAMANDER

First impression  When I learned Luna and Rolf had twins, I immediately thought of this kid I knew whose dad was a percussionist who loved to travel the world and collect non-western instruments. The kids was always wearing his wavy hair to his shoulders, putting on daishikis and woven vests from Peru, and generally looked like the son of a hippie traveller. Immediately, I had a mental picture of these kids.

Impression now  So, now I have very firm headcanons for them, and am a fan of Lysander and am shipping him with Lily. I’ve even written a ficlet. :P So I picture Lysander as someone who travels the world and wants to do a lot of good. He is a Mediwizard who was studying to become a full Healer- but in the meantime has been traveling the world and using his mediwizard abilities to help less fortunate people in third world countries/impoverished areas. He decided to abandon becoming a healer for a time, because there is a lot more oversight for healers when they enter countries- vs mediwizards can sort of go in under the radar and help heal people without oversight. He likes to help muggles- and think it’s basically immoral how wizards could cure most common muggle ailments, but don’t.

His brother Lorcan is more an adventurer who loves mountain climbing, hiking etc. He occasionally does help with villages and such, but usually just clues Lysander into ‘oh I came across this kid with a messed up foot in this village’ then Sander is on it.

Favorite moment n/a

Idea for a story - Got one going already! :D I’d like some more stories about his work in villages and such.

Unpopular opinion  Lysander is brown eyed and blonde haired, while Lorcan is black haired and blue eyed. Neither are super into animals once they’re older.

Favorite relationship  His and Lily’s, now. :)

Favorite headcanon  I think I covered most of it. bUT MAN, I can’t believe I’ve only posted the twins once. I know I’ve sketched them before, but I guess I never posted it :P  

[itsinmydunah]

Battle Sign

A/N: This fic is a frankenfic. I used it as a way to help me study my neuro material, and also turned it into an angsty h/c fic. I hope you guys enjoy it. Please let me know if this style (medical stuff, h/c, etc) is good. I may use this “study” method again if people like it :)

Word Count: 3,965

Warnings: medical stuff - if you can’t handle graphic descriptions of head wounds, I would stay away from this fic

There is an icy urgency in his veins that has him rushing to the quinjet. He is met with a horror worse than the destroyed city at his back, worse than the civilians screaming in the streets. He freezes in step, clenches his fists, and blinks hard as if to erase the image, as if it may just be a bad dream that he can will away.

He opens his eyes again.

Wanda is laid on a gurney, neck in a cervical collar, hair and face covered in blood.

“Where’s Vizh? Wherizhe?” Her words are slurred, both pupils dilated huge and virtually non-responsive to light. “I wan ‘im.” Her hands keep reaching out blindly, grasping at air. When they come in contact with nothing, she starts panicking, breathing getting fast and hard.

“Hey, hey, Wanda, you need to calm down.” Clint is by her head, smoothing her hair to one side so Bruce can look at her head wound. He’s careful not to touch the cervical collar that has been fixed around her neck.

“I am here,” Vision chokes out, walking through the quinjet to stand right where Wanda is strapped down to the gurney. He looks down at her, clothes torn and covered in rubble and blood, and feels sick in a way he never has before.

“We need to leave now, Steve. Her head looks bad, and I don’t have the stuff to fix this here,” Bruce calls out loudly over his com while digging frantically through a cabinet then moving on to another.

“What happened to her?” Vision takes both of her hands in his, leaning down to assess the visible damage. He winces at the bloody, clotted mess within her hair, the skin that has been torn away from her skull. As soon as Clint sees Vision settled by Wanda, he stands and heads to begin to call in the others.

“A building was collapsing. She managed to shield most of it until the very end. It was terrifying. I’ve never seen her shield go down like that. A huge chunk of concrete got her right at the top of the head. I have no idea of the full extent of the damage. What I can tell so far with what we have onboard is that she’s got a serious brain injury. Not sure it the skull has cracked. We need to get moving.” Bruce flits about, attaching wires to Wanda and looking intensely at the tablet in his hands.

“Wanda, can you tell me what 2+2 is?” Bruce asks gently, his tone a complete paradox to the harsh tapping gestures he’s utilizing with his tablet.  

“mmmm, na,” Wanda tries to turn her head to see Vision, but he immediately moves into her line of sight so she doesn’t struggle.

“Wanda, can I get you to squeeze Vision’s hands?” Vision looks to Bruce, shaking his head ‘no’. “What about tell me where you are?” Wanda’s lower lip just quivers, and she starts crying. Vision cups her face gently but desperately, eyes begging Bruce to fix this. “I need you to get her to stop crying somehow. It’s only going to bring up her intercranial pressure. We can’t have that now.” The synthoid nods, swiping her tears away with his thumbs.

“Wanda, I am here,” he begins, voice soft as a feather, “darling, you are going to be fine.” Tears still streak down her, her eyes fixed on his. The hugeness of her pupils scares him, the way he can tell she’s locked in her own head and in pain. “Should she be given something?” Vision feels desperate in a way he never has before.

“In a hospital she’d get an anti-epileptic and maybe some propofol for sedation. I don’t have anything here that I feel confident enough using on an injury that I don’t know the full extent of.” Bruce rips at his own hair. He exhales heavily and reaches for some tubing. “I’m going to start you on some oxygen, okay, Wanda? Just a nasal cannula to start.” Bruce tucked the tubing behind her ears and loosed it under her chin.  “Now I’m just gonna start irrigating this wound. Hopefully this can keep you from getting an infection, okay? Vision is right here with you.” The doctor sets about putting on gloves, yanking a table to the head of the gurney, and using a large syringe with a splash guard and sterile water to clean away the debris and blood packed into Wanda’s skull.

Tony, Steve, and Nat trudge in. Everyone’s eyes immediately go to Wanda, to the bright red water and blood dripping from her head wound onto the floor, to the way Vision is as tense as they’ve ever seen him, his hands anxiously trying to soothe Wanda in any way he can.

“We need to leave NOW,” Clint barks from the pilot seat, ready for takeoff. Everyone immediately throws down their gear and offers help to Bruce in any way they can. He waves them off. Too many people keeps him from working effectively. Vision appreciates Bruce’s single-minded focus on Wanda’s care at the moment.

“Head to Johns Hopkins. I have a friend in their surgical trauma center we may need. Also call Helen Cho. We can use the new mini-Cradle she’s been developing, hopefully.” Bruce calls out to Clint, tugging at avulsed part of her skin to irrigate beneath it.

“Aye,” the man responds, and the quinjet lifts off.

Wanda is still crying, snuffling softly, her hands twitching at her sides. “Vizh....whr you?”

“Here, darling, here.” Her bloodshot eyes open to meet his. “Yes, right in front of you. Can you see me?” She hums, and he takes it as a yes. “You are doing brilliantly. Do you hurt?”

“M’head.”

“Okay, alright. We are working on getting you somewhere they can help. I am right here, not going anywhere. I promise.” Wanda’s eyes flutter shut, and Vision presses fraught kisses to her face. “I love you, I love you,” he feels almost frantic.

Wanda groans in response. Her mind reaches greedily out to his, and all he suddenly feels everything. Her pain, her terror, her anxiety, her heightened pulse, the noisy thrum of her thoughts trying to form but ending abruptly because her brain can’t seem to finish them. Vision can feel her internal screaming rattling him to his core. Suddenly there is flash of light, darkness, and a sharp ache behind his eyes. He is thrown from her mind just in time to see her begin seizing.

“Roll her to her side. I’m timing it,” Bruce urges him, quickly undoing the gurney straps, moving to ensure that her head is safe from knocking into anything. Vision does as he is told, but feels adrift, like he is floating above his own body. This cannot be real. This is.... this is like something out of a nightmare. Wanda has struggled enough, she does not deserve this. This should not be allowed to happen to her.

He watches as her body shakes, her eyes roll back, and her lips move as if to form words. “Wanda,” he says as calmly as he can, “you’re going to be fine. Bruce and I are here. You are safe.” He doesn’t reach out to her mind, doesn’t want to invade when she is already being betrayed and torn apart by her own body. Vision listens with one ear as Bruce patches through to his doctor friend at Hopkin’s, relays information and inquires as to what to do. The rest of his mind is focused on the stuttering, gasping breathes Wanda takes, of the choked noises she makes as she suddenly vomits. Bruce is quickly suctioning her mouth with a long tube, urging Vision to hold her head to the side. There are tears streaming down her face, her eyes wide open and scarily aware. “Darling, I have you.” He feels useless, so damnably unable to help the person he loves more than anything. He hates himself a bit in this moment.

Wanda finally stops seizing. She falls into unconsciousness, and Bruce sighs heavily.

“I’ll keep monitoring, but there’s not much else I can do. I sent ahead Wanda’s medical file to my friend at Hopkins.” Vision, from his place in front of Wanda, shoots Bruce a skeptical look. Bruce responds calmly, “She can be trusted, I promise. Her daughter is altered, she’s making safety of ‘different people’ her mission. Wanda’s information is safe with her.” Vision reluctantly hums an agreement, his eyes fixed on Wanda’s unmoving face. It is so similar to when she is peacefully sleeping. Yet he can feel her turmoil thrumming just beneath her skin.

“Do you want to clean her up a bit?” Bruce has a sterile cloth dampened and a basin as well as some minty mouth swabs. Vision takes them silently, gratefully. He is thankful to have some way to help Wanda, even something as small as this.

Vision gently wipes her face, starting at her forehead, brushing her hair away from her face. He has to be careful not to tug on the strands that are near her open head wound. He methodically removes the blood that has seeped to her fair skin. He dips the cloth, stains the water bright red, and cleans vomit from around her mouth and neck. Her clothes are a lost cause, but he doesn’t want to jostle her more than necessary to replace them. He is sure the hospital will take care of that. He gently coaxes her lips open with a minty swab, cleans her tongue and cheeks of emesis. Vision casts a look at her hair, wishing that he could tidy it for her. Wanda hates when it becomes tangled. She takes great comfort in having him smooth it out for her, even allowing him to braid it on occasion.

Bruce hands him a heated blanket. “She needs to be kept at an even temperature at all costs.” Vision tucks it around her, wishing desperately that he could move in next to her, could hold her close and share his warmth with her. Keep her safe.

As soon as they land on the heli-pad at Johns Hopkins, Bruce has Vision help him guide the gurney off the quinjet. Once they exit, doctors and nurses descend upon her, rushing her to a surgical bay. Bruce goes with them, barking out information about her blood pressure, her temperature, her Glasgow Coma score, her seizure time, her metabolic panels, her blood type, her weight, her allergies, her current medications, her birthday, her height, her code status, her her her her her her her her her——

Vision’s ears start buzzing, his knees feel weak beneath his body, he feels simultaneously on fire and frigid. He doesn’t perspire, but he suddenly feels like he has broken out in a cold sweat.

“Whoa, whoa, big guy, don’t do that.” Tony is on his right, holding him up, and Clint on his left. They huff under his weight and drag him to the wall in the hallway where he slides down to sit. Tony perches in front of him, “Bruce has some of the best people on it. And I called in the leading neurosurgeon in the country - a Doctor Strange - to consult. She’s gonna be fine.” Vision hears him, processes what he has said, but he can’t seem to snap out of this daze. His tongue feels thick. He hears Clint ask Tony is androids can go into shock. He hears Sam, Natasha, and Rhodes talking to Bruce. He hears their hushed concerns, feels their gazes flit to him and then to the surgical bay. He hears the overhead system call out a Code Blue, hears the shriek of monitors from the room where Wanda is. Hears the stampede of Dansko-clad feet run by shouting to one another.

He feels Clint, Steve, and Tony try to hold him back from rushing to Wanda’s side. He shakes them off easily, looking into the surgical bay from the large glass viewing area outside. Someone is doing chest compressions on her, another is shoving a tube down her throat, another is administering medications through her IV. Vision watches in horror. He has all the knowledge of the Mind Stone and the internet, the past memories as J.A.R.V.I.S when Tony binged Grey’s Anatomy. He has seen these interventions before in abstract, depersonalized ways before. But this is vastly different. Vision sees the heart monitor’s rapid, erratic activity, hears someone yell out about ventricular fibrillation and shockable rhythms. Watches as the surgeon at the head of the table begins doing surgery, barely seeming to notice the flurry of everyone around him.

That heart stopping is Wanda’s, is the heart she chose to share with him. That body being pumped full of epinephrine is a body he holds every night. That brain being operated on is marvelous and loving. That broken skull being picked at is one that he has cradled and kissed.

“Vision, you shouldn’t be watching this.” Steve is by his side, a steady presence. For a moment Vision hates him for his unfaltering nature. How is this not tearing him apart? How dare he try to tell Vision to leave Wanda? He turns to glare at the soldier, turns to yell, but takes in the sight of the others. Bruce is covered in blood and unidentifiable secretions, his hands shaking. Natasha is hovering near him, eyes wide and blank. Sam is clasping Clint’s shoulder. Clint, who is openly crying. Tony is pacing jerkily, muttering to himself. Rhodes is staring out a massive window, back to the surgical bay, head bowed as if praying.

Vision looks back to Steve. Everyone is falling apart. Clearly Steve has made himself be the one who carries everyone else, the only one who isn’t spiraling. Suddenly he can’t help himself. He steps forward and hugs Steve. The man immediately grips onto him tightly. Everyone else slowly joins - Natasha holding tight to Vision’s side, Clint at his other side, Sam and Rhodes clasping his shoulders, Tony and Bruce at his back. All of them are shuddering out breathes, some sniffling, all supporting each other.

“She’s got so much fight in her. She’s not gonna give up. She loves you too much for that.” Clint looks at him with red-rimmed eyes. Vision nods. He knows how willful Wanda is. He’s familiar with her stubbornness, her unwillingness to leave those she loves behind. He hopes that will be enough to keep her with him.

They’re all piled against the wall propping each other up. Vision is at their center. Tony is cradling his third cup of coffee. Clint is half asleep against Natasha. Bruce is tucked into Vision’s side with Sam and Rhodes next to him.

The surgeon, Dr. Strange, comes out of the double doors with a surgical mask pushed beneath his chin. He is thin, bearded, with keen eyes. His scrubs are covered in blood and damp with sterile water. “Miss Maximoff is currently stable. She went into ventricular fibrillation for approximately five minutes, in which we shocked her twice to get her back in rhythm. I did a craniotomy to relieve pressure and removed skull fragments from her depressed fracture. I know you have Dr. Cho coming with a miniature Cradle Prototype. Hopefully that helps, because without it Miss Maximoff would have months, if not years of recovery ahead of her.”

That statement has Vision reeling. He knows that the human brain is complex, that it requires time and rest. But years? Years for his Wanda to return to herself? He is grateful simply that she is alive, but he will admit to being afraid of what is to come. He feels Tony at his shoulder, supporting him silently. Steve meets his gaze and gives him a grim smile.

“Dr. Cho is certain that the Prototype will speed up both the bone and tissue healing enough to reduce recuperation time down to two weeks barring no brain bleeds,” Bruce says.

Doctor Strange nods in commiseration. “I have placed a burr hole in her skull and drainage tubes to allow any developing hematoma to siphon out. The nurses will be starting her on antiepileptics and corticosteroids for seizure prevention and to reduce the swelling in her brain. Bar in mind that while the Cradle may heal tissue and bone and even nerves, it may have little effect on Miss Maximoff’s brain. It is likely that she will still need a long time for recuperation. I will be recommending the best neurologists and therapists this hospital has to offer to aid in her recovery. Does anyone have any questions at the moment?” He looks to each of them. They’re all too overwhelmed to form questions now, and the surgeon seems to understand that.

“Thank you, Doctor.” Vision steps forward and shakes his hand. He is gratified beyond belief that Wanda will heal.

“Of course. I will have Dr. Whitefield and a nurse come give you more information. I was glad to be of help.” With that, the surgeon is gone.

Tony ensures that they have a large private room for Wanda. Vision is there constantly. He has never been so glad that he requires little sleep or sustenance. It means he can be there for every nurse’s report, every update, every twitch. The medical staff have been exceedingly tolerant of his presence, ensuring that they include him each time they come in to work on Wanda. One of the physical therapists showed him how to do some exercises to prevent limb deformity without increasing Wanda’s intercranial pressure. A nurse taught him how to properly do oral care, give eye drops, and reposition Wanda to ensure her comfort and reduce ulceration. Vision took pride in being able to take care of her in some manner, even these small things. She was his most important person, and all he wanted to do was help.

The room was kept somewhat dark and warm and was tucked into a corner so it was quiet and calm. Dr. Whitefield had told them that too much stimuli would overwhelm Wanda and likely cause a seizure or extreme agitation when she woke. She had recently become stable enough to breathe on her own, so a nurse had removed her endotracheal tube. They had all assured him that meant she was improving and strengthening.

Dr. Cho had successfully healed the gaps in Wanda’s skull with synthetic bone and the Cradle’s stimulation. Her scalp was mostly healed aside from the drains that Dr. Strange kept in place to ensure regulation of her intercranial pressure. Bandages wound around her head to keep the drains in place and to prevent infection from the incisions. Most shocking, however, was the distinct lack of hair.  A nurse had explained to him that it posed an extreme infection risk during healing and that Dr. Strange wouldn’t have been able to do the surgery without removing it. Even after that most logical explanation, Vision remained dismayed. Another shocking manifestation was the blue-black bruising beneath both of Wanda’s delicate ears that extended to her upper neck. It is so dark that it looks like someone tried to choke her. Every time he sees it, Vision is jarred, is made aware of how tenuous Wanda’s grasp on life is. Dr. Whitefield assured him that this, “Battle Sign” as she calls it, will dissipate within weeks and that the cause has already been surgically fixed by Dr. Strange.

Despite this progress, Vision is still eager for her to awaken. He has missed her desperately. For the first week, he wanted to touch her mind with his. Bruce, sensing this, had warned him from doing so.

“Her brain is doing a lot of healing,” he had said, “having someone prodding around in there may keep her from creating the proper neural pathways and recuperating as she should.”

Needless to say, that had been enough to keep Vision from connecting with her.

He missed her voice. He missed her touch. He missed her kisses. He missed her curling up beside him in bed. Oh, did he miss her.

She wakes up in the middle of the night when he isn’t even the room. It is one of the rare moments where he requires sustenance (he hasn’t eaten in a week, and only left at Tony’s insistence that he and Clint would remain behind). Vision enters the room to see that the lights are dimmed even more than usual and hears the soft tones of Clint speaking. His gaze beelines to Wanda.

For the first time in five weeks, her eyes are open and locked on him.

“Vizh.” Her voice is rough and low. Vision aches at the sound of it. He instinctively reaches to give her water, but remembers shes’s not allowed anything to eat or drink until her gag reflex is assessed by a speech therapist. So he settles for moving in close, sitting right at her side and taking her hand in his.

“Darling, how do you feel?” He reaches to smooth her hair back as he always does, but falters. Instead he brushes his fingers down her cheeks. She closes her eyes and leans into him, sighing softly.

“Tired.” Vision leans down and kisses the crown of her head, her eyelids.

“Then sleep, darling,” he murmurs lowly, “I will still be here when you wake. You are safe.”

He remains by her side, stroking her face and arms and hands for hours with petal-soft touches.

“You love my hair.” Wanda sniffles a bit. For a moment, Vision is flummoxed. He had stepped out of the room to speak to Dr. Whitefield for a moment, and returned to the sight of a contrite looking aide holding a mirror for Wanda. He shakes his head to the aide, allowing them to slip from the room.

Wanda has never been the type concerned with her looks. Part of that may have come from the fact that she easily and carelessly fit into society’s standards of “beauty” before now. Additionally, both Bruce and Dr. Whitefield told him that excessive emotionalism could be a side effect of her head injury due to where the damage occurred.

“Wanda, I love you.” Vision moves to sit beside her, pulling a chair in close so that he can hold her hand. “I love everything about you. You are alive, and on your way to healing. That is all I care about.” He leans in, kisses her forehead. The lack of hair to tickle his face is new, different. For a split second he mourns that he won’t be able to run his fingers through her hair for a long time, won’t be able to tangle them into those strands when he kisses her. But he pulls away, sees her wide hazel eyes, the bandages taped to her head, feels the thrum of her thoughts against his. He can’t be anything but exultant that she is alive and beside him. “You are so beautiful to me,” Vision whispers, large hands coming to cup her face. He feels her tears well over and wet his skin. “I am in awe of the fact that you are here, that you are so strong to survive. I am stunned by your resilience, now more than ever.” He leans in, kisses each of her eyelids, tastes the saltiness of her tears. “You are nothing short of a miracle to me.”

Wanda crashes into him with a fierce embrace. Vision returns it carefully but wholeheartedly. He is sure that her continued healing will prove to be difficult, but he is so happy at her continued presence that he feels like he can take on whole armies.