#they’re gonna do an ultrasound and blood work just in case

[raeathnos]

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[olivetreehugger]

SnK Warriors as Health Care Workers

I’m an ICU nurse, and I’ve come across a tonnnn of different types of healthcare workers in my line of work. These are just my hc’s for what kind of HCWs the Warrior unit would be. These are totally my opinion! Also, real healthcare is NOT the same as TV healthcare, not every doctor is a surgeon (and they’re not the best, either). Anyway, here we go :)

Warnings: mentions of blood, medical procedures, opioids, death

-Zeke: he’d be a fourth year neurosurgery resident. Neurosurgery residents are either cold, arrogant assholes or fun bros. No in-between. They’re always on the move or in surgery honing their skills. They don’t sleep and they’re on call 24/7. 

Zeke is always carrying a strong, black Starbucks coffee and reeks of cigarette smoke. He’s always exhausted because he's covering all the neuro patients in the hospital overnight and then rounds with the attending (Magath? idk) in the morning til like 2pm. It’s a miracle he doesn’t kill anyone. He’s wicked smart and super talented in the OR, but kind of a dick with the nurses. He shows up at the bedside to do a quick procedure, doesn’t tell the nurses ahead of time. He grabs all the supplies on his own because “the nurses don’t know what I like” and then when he’s done he’ll leave the leftover dirty gloves, removed drain, stray bloody gauze, and empty boxes all over the room. He has a somewhat asinine attitude towards patients, poor bedside manner. He doesn’t order pain  medication for the intubated patient before removing a drain bc “they’re sedated, right?” No, Dr. Jaeger, neuro patients don’t get heavy sedation. Please order a small dose of pain meds. You’re hurting them. “Oh, right. I’ll order that.” No, he won’t. Zeke always promises to throw in orders, always forgets. 

You’ll spend your shift paging him for orders, cleaning up after him and getting rude comments over the phone. He’s gonna make a fantastic neurosurgeon, though. He’ll save your life.

-Porco: An ER resident for SURE. He loves the chaos of the emergency department. A typical male in healthcare-he loves the trauma, the blood and guts, the crazy. He tries to avoid pregnant women and kids, they freak him out. BUT, that didn’t stop him from holding a woman’s hand when she gave birth right there in the ER lobby.  Great bedside manner. So smart. And he’s super sweet, actually??? He also creates secret handshakes with the kids and sweet talks the old ladies to make them more comfortable. He tells them to call him Pock or Porco, not Dr. Galliard.

Unfortunately, When he first started, he got a little too cocky and claimed he didn’t need to scan a patient after getting hit in the chest with a hockey stick. Patient suffered a ruptured vessel and almost died right there. After a very rigid monitoring program, he was able to practice again. He’s also a giant flirt. He dated most nurses in the hospital and they ALL talk about his dick game.

Porco rides his motorcycle to work and sometimes skips his helmet. All the nurses shame him for it, reminding him of the horrible head injuries that come in through the trauma bay because of motorcycle crashes. He comes in double fisting Monster energy drinks and jamming to whatever his air pods are playing probably Hamilton. ER residents are chaotic and funny and Porco is no different. During a code blue (a patient’s heart stopped) he kept calm and hummed “stayin’ alive” while they performed CPR. He runs a code like a goddamn CHAMP. He has ACLS memorized to a T and intubates better than most attendings. The nurses will tell him the patient’s labs look better after the medication he ordered and he’ll be like “Hell yeah, let’s keep it goin’” or “A’ight let’s get crazy” before an emergency procedure. If the nurses can’t place an IV, you bet your sweet ass he’s grabbing the ultrasound and throwing a few in for them <3

Pieck: She’s an infectious disease PA. She’s very soft-spoken, patient and intelligent. Orders and notes are always flawless. Apologizes whenever she orders blood cultures and even offers to draw them for the nurses if they’re busy. She buys everyone pizza when she’s on the unit. All the nurses love her. She’s perfect. 

Annie: A nightshift CVICU nurse. There’s a joke online that cardiovascular/cardiothoracic ICU nurses are the biggest bitches ever.  And it’s true, most are. BUT. Annie is probably the best nurse to have if you’ve just come out of open-heart surgery or had a lung transplant. She knows exactly what to do when a patient is crashing and is a BEAST when it comes to chest compressions. She is a pro at putting in IVs and troubleshooting pumps/machines when they don’t work. She has every single lab value, test and medication stored in that brain of hers and can pull it out before you can finish asking a question. 

She gives a quick, concise report on all her patients and expects the same. If you don’t, she rolls her eyes at you and rushes you. “I don’t need useless information. What drips are you running?” She gets in trouble sometimes because she makes her student nurses cry, but “why don’t they know how to zero an arterial line? it’s not my fault they don’t know their stuff.” No, Annie. You’re supposed to teach them. “Oh.” 

She wears the newest, cutest scrubs and has an ivory and rose-gold stethoscope. Don’t tell her it’s basic, though, she’ll put you on her shit list lol. She also hates being floated to the medical ICU because “they don’t know what they’re doing”. 

Reiner: Our king is a medical ICU nurse who started in the ER. He loved the wild west that was the ER but started to feel burnt out after seeing so many child deaths and cases of abuse. When he finally realized what it was doing to him he applied for a medical ICU position on night shift and transferred right away.

Baby, he thrived there. This guy is so compassionate with his patients and knows how to advocate for them well. He has a great rapport with all the physicians (except Porco, when Reiner was working ER they would butt heads frequently) He’s great to give report to, never gives the previous nurse a rough time. When he reports off to the next shift, his rooms are a little messy sometimes but he ALWAYS has extra supplies for you and the patient is clean. He learned so much from the patients and his peers that he was eventually promoted to charge RN. He’s the best charge nurse. Knows all the protocols and will call any doctor for you. Anytime you need help doing a procedure, he’s your man: IVs? “How many you want?” Blood draw? “I’ll grab the tubes”. Patient’s about to code? “I got compressions”. Call security for the violent patient down the hall? “I AM security”. 

His scrubs are a little snug around his shoulders and chest and he knows this. Baby likes to show off. He likes to flex his muscles for anyone watching, but he’s not a douche. Reiner is an absolute gentleman with his female coworkers, never complains when they ask him for lifting help. In fact, he loves being of use. It’s why he’s a nurse in the first place: he loves helping people <33

Bertholdt: He started with Reiner in the ER but wanted something more stable so he transferred to the burn unit (get it?). Reiner still hasn’t forgiven him. 

Colt: He’s in nursing school but loved the idea of being a trauma nurse. Then he did a clinical rotation in the trauma ICU and fainted when a confused patient ripped a screw out of his fractured arm. After that he decided to do pediatrics lol.

[tifs-against-terfs]

this is gonna be lengthy and maybe confusing so forgive me but those doctors lied to you. the previously established "link" between testosterone and liver failure was hypothetical. more recent long-term studies have shown that testosterone can actually be effective as a treatment for certain fatty liver issues and it only becomes harmful if you have an extreme excess in your body (more than a cis man makes at one time). this was a problem when oral T capsules were more popular than injectables for cis men to use as a steroid. specifically it is a somewhat outdated form of HRT- oral testosterone capsules- which have been taken out of circulation in the US for fear of causing liver damage. since the T is often suspended in oil/fat and you eat the capsules any extra goes straight through to your liver. but even these are widely available in other places like Canada and the UK. in a very recent long-term study of men with fatty liver disease on injectable testosterone, almost all of the recorded deaths among test subjects were related to COVID. they followed these men for 8 years and a lot of them actually had a marked improvement in their liver health. you can google this all and confirm it.

regardless of any of that, the doctors should have informed you of the potential side effects and given you the option to accept or deny them. then they should have given you your T and continued to monitor you- that's the reason we do regular blood tests, just in case. they should not refuse to treat you because they think your treatment might have side effects. as an example, doctors don't refuse to prescribe allergy meds even though their own commercials say they can cause death. if that sounds like a silly comparison, i was hospitalized once by prescription allergy medication and it did nearly kill me. the risk of this medicine actually making the reaction worse and sending me into anaphylaxis was known and apparently significant. but because doctors don't treat all side effects equally, they didn't think it was worth mentioning i was not informed. they did however make me sign a consent form to go on hormones, and after 5 long years they have yet to have any effect on my liver even while I was on capsules.

if testosterone was as deadly as they make it out to be joe rogan would have finally left this mortal coil but unfortunately he remains alive and pumped full of synthetic testosterone undecanoate- the stuff that is supposedly poison. (hint: it's all a big lie to keep us from transitioning).

Thank you for the science facts and the last paragraph, that made me giggle :) relating to your allergy meds story (though my case wasn’t as severe obviously) it is so important for doctors to give informed consent on everything instead of just being like “here’s some pills that’ll help, take them.” I gained so much weight when I was on Zoloft because they neglected to tell me that weight gain was one of the more common side effects.

Anyway, they’re doing an ultrasound on me next week to see how bad it really is and to try to work things out so I can go on. Fingers crossed !!

[neonponders]

Head canon time:

Okay okay okay okayokayokay so this post has super cute art, but the reblog comment on it aligned with something that’s been percolating in my brain for a ~while~ now:

Eleven as Steve’s sister.

Obviously neither Steve nor Eleven have any idea. From the time El escapes the lab, they don’t interact much. Even if they’re in the same room, they kind of bounce around each other, because...why else would they? Steve’s at least five years older and she’s still building her social skills/confidence, especially around men.

But then Steve gets his hair cut short, and the back likes to curl very similarly to how El’s did when hers was short. Their hair needs its own weight to pull it straight.

And it’s dark brown. Followed by clear brown eyes.

It’s not enough for anyone to connect the dots, of course, but then El’s “mother” dies. Her mind had been a flickering light for a long time, eventually her heart began to match. But when a heart stops, it stops.

Her sister calls Hopper, in case El wants to know, and they show up, at the very least, to attend the funeral and to help the sister go through dusty boxes. Maybe there’s a picture of El’s mother that she wants...

Instead they find surrogacy papers.

Old bank statements.

Apparently at the time of her involvement with government conspiracy, she had been very down on her luck. She made the mistake of doubling up on volunteering to be a surrogate mother, as well as whatever the hell the Hawkins Library did to her.

But the names on the papers are John and Eliza Harrington.

“Like...Steve?” El asks when he finally has gaped at the papers for too long.

Hopper inhales because he isn’t sure when he did that last and scratches his face. “Yeah...like Steve.”

He has mixed emotions: the empathetic devastation at losing a kid, but also the relief that this involves someone already in the know.

They go over to Steve’s house.

The guy answers the door with a slice of pizza in his hand, still chewing. “Hi, Hop. Ellie.”

She offers a small smile. “Steve.”

“Are your parents home, kid?”

He shook his head and swallowed. “Just left this morning. They have a time-share condo in Mexico.”

“You didn’t go with them?”

Steve scoffs while turning around back into the house. “My idea of a good time isn’t with my parents. What d’you need?”

“Well,” Hopper sighs, feeling too big in the foyer. Eleven stabs his hip with a finger and he begins the tedious process of unlacing his boots. “I need to go through your parents’ papers. You got an attic, a cellar, an office?”

Steve, bless him, looks genuinely clueless. “Uh. Yeah...are we in trouble for something?”

“Not in trouble, no. I just wanna cross reference something.”

Bless him twice, because he actually lets Hopper into his attic. His father’s office. Then his mother’s.

He finds it in his mother’s bedroom. It was just a shot in the dark to try the safe in the closet, but so many people actually keep their safes unlocked for easy access.

Hospital documents. Even ultrasound photos.

“Jane Elizabeth...Harrington?” Steve chirps over his shoulder.

He looks up at the chief, who’s rubbing his beard again. Their heads turn to Eleven sitting on Mrs. Harrington’s bed. “My name’s Jane.”

Those big brown eyes blink between her and Hopper. “How do you know that? I thought you came from a lab?”

Hopper intercepted, “She used her,” he gestured vaguely to his own head, “to find her mother. Or...the surrogate your parents paid for.”

“And where’s she?”

“Dead,” said Eleven.

Hopper reiterated, “She passed about two weeks ago. We found your parents’ names in her paperwork.”

“But - what happened? How does a baby just go missing? Better question: why don’t I have super powers?”

Hopper had already read the hospital’s apology and refund of the Harrington’s funds, insurance, the works. “I think that asshole...Brenner...claimed the baby for his work, early enough that it could be written off as a miscarriage. Whatever they did to El’s mother, whatever went on in that lab, landed her with her abilities. It’s nothing to covet, all right.”

Steve looked winded. He crossed his arms and let himself collapse against the wall. “So...what do we do?”

“Uh...” Hopper fanned his face with the ultrasound pictures. “There isn’t a lot we can do. Telling your parents would open up a lot of closed doors that we can’t really afford to open. Dr. Owens, being the swell guy he is, provided me paperwork that grants El as my kid.

“But.

“You already know each other. You already contributed to saving the world together. So...I think that’s up to the two of you.”

Both of them, for all they’d been through, just looked like kids. They were kids, even if Steve now stood in his twenties. And he stood off the wall, now, to approach his sister.

“Can I, uhm...can I hug you?”

El slid off the high bed, easily falling against his body for arms to wrap tightly around her. They stayed like that for a long moment, then Hopper joined them to rub between their shoulder blades.

“Oh god. You’re dating Mike Wheeler.” El hummed a curious sound and he elaborated, “Am I gonna have to pound on him if he pisses you off?”

“I wish you would,” Hopper confirmed.

Fast forward to Mike being extremely confused at his girlfriend suddenly spending a lot of time with Steve Harrington, of all people.

“Maybe she’s gotten a taste for older men?” Lucas teased, and got punched in the shoulder for it.

Max’s eyes rolled but she didn’t grace that with an answer.

Mike fumed, “She was supposed to be with me today! Then she called and said she had other plans - ”

Max chimed, “Are you sure you had plans? Or that you had a plan but she beat you to it?”

“It doesn’t matter! I see her walking around with Steve Harrington all the time and it’s weird!”

Will said for nobody in particular, “We’re not the ones to judge weird anymore.”

Lucas countered, “Or we’re the experts on weird. Speaking of, where the hell is Dustin?”

“With Steve,��� Max grinned right at Mike, and stood up. “Speaking of, my ride’s probably here.”

“Where are you going?” Lucas asked.

“Over to Steve’s.”

The boys looked at each other and ran for their shoes. Sure enough, they left the Wheelers’ basement, circled around the house, and found the blue Camaro waiting in the cul-de-sac. 

“Woah woah woah, what the hell is this?” Billy said hoarsely. He peered over his sunglasses at the teenagers filing into his backseat.

Max shoved a bottle of water towards him. “You’re not drinking enough, again.”

“Don’t bitch at me. Tell your friends to scram.”

“Are you really going over to Steve’s?” Will began.

“What do you know about Steve hanging out with my girlfriend?” Mike joined.

“Steve’s got a pool, right?” Lucas directed at Max.

Billy revved his engine with a sharp right turn, throwing all of them to one side of the car. Max held her head from where it had hit the window. “Cool it, you shouldn’t even be driving in the first place.”

“My blood did not turn black for this bullshit.”

The kids in the back stared out of the windows like Loch Nora was a safari tour. At the sound of the Camaro’s engine, Steve trotted down the slope of the lawn in swimming trunks with a towel around his shoulders, waving them through the gate.

Will and Lucas sprinted after him. Mike followed at a skeptical pace while Max lingered for Billy’s sake. No one noticed that Billy wore pink and turquoise swimming trunks that fit more to Steve’s taste.

Mike sure as hell noticed the red and purple, woven friendship bracelets that El and Steve wore, though. The pale, skinny nerd just stared, dumbfounded between Hopper floating contently over the pool, El laughing in a one-piece covered in hibiscus flowers, and Steve sitting at the foot of Billy’s lounge chair.

Then Robin strolled through the gate with a stack of pizza and chicken wing boxes. “All right, we ready? What are you doing, dweeb? It’s a 101 degrees out. Get wet.”

And shoved Mike Wheeler right into the pool.

[itstheoneshot]

Oh, Baby

request

Summary: As you make your way into the third trimester of your pregnancy, every day your partner loves you more and more.

Word Count: 3.1k

Pairing: Kris Wu x Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Unprotected Sex, Pregnancy/Breeding Kink.

————————————————————————

It is time for you to leave, so you make your way to the front door. You are dressed in a t-shirt and loose cotton shorts, as they are the only things that fit you comfortably anymore. You see your shoes on the ground, and attempt to scuff your feet into them, but leaning down to pull them on properly is impossible for you now. You are 6 months pregnant, and your bump has gotten impossibly large, you have no idea how you are supposed to fit another 3 months of growth into your tiny body.

You feel helpless and stupid, not being able to do something as simple as tying up your own shoelaces, and with the unstable hormones that have plagued you throughout your pregnancy, such a small thing like this tips you right over the edge.

You break down, tears flow from your eyes, and sobs escape your mouth. You are so tired of feeling this way, it is so hard, you used to be proud of how independent you were, but now you can’t do anything at all.

It only takes a moment for your partner to hear you, he is so attentive, and it takes a moment longer for his footsteps to echo down the hallway as he rushes to make his way to your side.

“Oh, my love, what’s the matter?” He asks you worriedly.

You lift your gaze to meet his, finding solace in his beautiful eyes. Your tall, beautiful partner, Yifan, grazes his fingers across your cheek, as his other hand instinctively races to your stomach. You know that his first thought will be that something is wrong with the baby, though that is not the case. You are embarrassed about how upset you are, even more so than you are by your inability to reach your feet.

“I can’t get my shoes on.” You say, feeling even worse after saying it aloud.

Yifan smiles at you, and without a second thought, he picks you up carefully, and carries you into the living room. He gently places you down on the sofa, and kneels at your feet you tie your laces for you. You feel like crying all over again, having only just ceased your tears, as Yifan takes you into his arms once more, and walks you back to the front door.

“You just need to ask, baby. I got you, you know this.” He assures you.

You nod at him, your lips are settled in a pout, and you hear his words, but it is still so hard for you to ask for help. Yifan leans down to kiss you, before pulling on his own shoes and leading you to your car. He checks that your seatbelt is on properly, the sashes comfortable and safe in their position around your stomach, before he begins the drive to the hospital.

It is time for your regular scan, and Yifan took the day off work to be there with you. He does not want to miss a moment of your pregnancy, and you could swear he was more excited about this than you are. He has had baby-fever since the moment you two started dating, so when you finally fell pregnant, he was over the moon, as you were too.

———

You lay on the hospital bed, with your shirt pulled up, exposing your stomach. The sonographer stands on one side of you, while Yifan sits on the other side, with his hand holding yours, and your fingers intertwined. The pair of you watch as the sonographer pours out the ultrasound gel onto your stomach, the cold sensation gives you goosebumps, but you are soon distracted from that, as the screen above you lights up, and you and Yifan get to see your little baby.

“Are you sure you still don’t want to know the sex?” The sonographer asks.

“I don’t want to.” Yifan answers, before you get a chance to, though you feel the same.

“I want a surprise.” You add, “It doesn’t matter, anyway.”

“Well, they are growing well.” The sonographer says.

You smile at this, as Yifan’s grip grows tighter on your hand, you glance over to see him staring back at you, eyeing your stomach, gazing up and down your body. You cough, gaining his attention, and he turns his focus back to the screen, though you stare at him a moment longer to see a blush run to his cheeks. The baby’s measurements are taken, to make sure that everything is going well, and the sonographer has no concerns with what he finds.

“The baby is taller than average, though.” He says.

“So they take after their dad.” You laugh, glancing at the 6’2 man you are head over heels in love with.

As your appointment finishes, you wipe your stomach clean with the tissues provided, and pull your shirt down. The sonographer hands you an envelope with a few photos from the screening, and you already plan on where they will go at home, on your refrigerator, alongside the ones you have received at previous scans. Yifan helps you stand from the bed, and you leave together after paying for the ultrasound.

“Where do you want to go for lunch?” You ask, referring to the plans you two had made last night.

Yifan looks over at you, as he does up his own seatbelt. He seems, flushed, maybe nervous, you are not sure what is going on with him, he does not seem his usual self.

“Can we just go home? I’ll make you lunch, we have plenty of food... I just, I’m not feeling great.” He says, scrambling for words.

“Of course, are you okay?” You ask him.

“I’m fine, baby. I just want to be at home.” He replies.

You do not push him to talk, instead you lean your head back into the seat, and reach across to take his hand. His palm is sweaty, and you wonder whether he has a fever. You did both have your flu shots only a few days ago, so you think that it may be a side effect from that, though you are feeling fine.

Yifan focuses on the road, he is an even more careful driver now that you are pregnant, so protective of you, even if he loves cutting corners, and driving fast, and you keep an eye on him, just to make sure that he is okay. He seems to get more agitated as you get closer to home, and you feel grateful to not live far from the hospital, as Yifan soon pulls into your driveway. As soon as he has parked, he rushes around to open the door for you and help you out of the car.

He holds you around the waist as you walk inside together, his large hand is splayed out across your larger stomach, you feel the baby kick, recognising the warmth, and familiar feeling of Yifan’s hand on you. Once inside, Yifan kneels down to take your shoes off, though his gaze is fixated on your stomach, he really is not his usual self, clumsy with his hands, as if in a trance.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Yifan?” You ask him tentatively.

Instead of responding straight away, he leans forward to kiss your stomach, lingering there momentarily before standing up again.

“Your feet are swollen, baby. Come, let me get you comfortable.” He says, avoiding your question.

Before you can protest, or push him for an answer, he picks you up, just like he did before your appointment, and carries you into your bedroom. He sits you on the bed, and gives you a pointed look, telling you to stay put, as he rushes out of the room, ignoring the confused look on your face as he leaves.

You hear the faucet running in the next room for a couple of minutes, and then quiet, and finally Yifan’s footsteps coming back towards you. You laugh as you watch Yifan walk back into the room, with a bucket full of hot water to soak your feet in. He is careful not to spill it, as he places it on the ground in front of you, and he kneels down to help you balance as you put your feet in one by one.

Yifan leaves the room again, only to return with a glass of water for you, pregnancy has made you so thirsty all the time, and hot, you are always so warm, with all the extra blood running through your body, supporting the growing baby. You sip from the glass, as he kneels down in front of you again, and you watch as he takes one of your feet into his hands, massaging it, hoping to make your pain subside.

God, he treats you like a fucking Princess, you close your eyes and focus on how nice it feels, your boyfriend’s large hands are like magic. He swaps to the other foot, and then uses one hand on each, until you feel that the swelling is finally going down, and you open your eyes again.

Yifan is gazing up at you, his cheeks are red, and he looks flustered. You still worry that he is unwell, as you lean forward to cup his cheek with your hand. The position is uncomfortable for you, with your stomach getting in the way, but you want him to know that you care for him as much as he does for you.

It is only now that you notice why Yifan is acting like this, as your eyes are drawn to his crotch, to the very clear outline of his cock through his jeans, hard, standing at full attention. Yifan notices you staring, and he tries to readjust, not being as inconspicuous as he would like to be, you smirk at him, it is so endearing when he wants you like this.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong now?” You tease him.

“I just... fuck you’re so fucking hot, carrying my fucking baby.” He replies, running his hands up your bare legs.

“Oh, really?” You ask.

“Mhmm,” He replies, moving to kiss up your legs, “Just makes me want to fucking breed you again.”

He bites gently at your flesh, leaving tiny teeth marks on your inner thighs, the sensation sending arousal coursing through your body.

“Would you like that? Daddy fucking you so good, filling your pretty pussy up with his cum? Gonna keep you pregnant forever, I think.” He purrs, now kissing across your tummy.

He lifts your shirt over your stomach, and you raise your arms for him to pull the fabric up over your head. He takes a hand to your breast, fuck they’re sensitive, swollen, already preparing for the baby you are going to be giving birth to in just a few months.

“So fucking sexy, baby, god you’re so fucking sexy.” Yifan growls, reaching behind you to unhook your bra, and you assist by pulling the cotton from you.

Yifan stops momentarily to tear his own shirt over his head, muttering an ‘it’s too hot’, before he leans in to kiss you. His hands explore your body while you run your fingers through his hair, he has one hand splayed out across your stomach, while the other palms your breasts, and then moves down to find position at your core, teasing you through the thin cotton shorts you’re still wearing.

“Let me fuck you, holy shit, please let me fuck you.” He begs, as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible, despite the awkward bump in your way.

“You really want me, huh?” You ask him between kisses, you nibble on his bottom lip, making him gasp, allowing your tongue into his mouth to taste him.

“Please, baby, Daddy needs his fill.” He moans, instinctively grinding into you.

“Hmm... only because you asked so nicely.” You reply, tracing your fingers down his back, settling at the waistband of the denim he is wearing.

He hastily reaches down to unbutton his jeans, furiously pulling at the tight material, tugging it down his thighs. As he does this, you hook your fingers under the elastic of his boxers, begging for him to help you, his desperation has influenced you, and you fucking need him too.

Yifan helps you remove his underwear, leaving him fully naked and you still in your shorts, Yifan then guides you further back on the bed, rested up against the pillows. You know you are not allowed to lay flat on your back, the midwives remind you of this every time you have an appointment at the hospital, it is dangerous for the baby. So you find a position, half laying, half sitting up, comfortable for you both.

“Fuck, I could cum just looking at you.” Yifan sighs, as you lift your hips up so he can pull your shorts and panties down.

You glance down at your body, pretty pink stretch marks adorn your stomach, Yifan leans down to kiss and lick along each and every one of them, just as he takes a hand to your entrance, teasing your growing wet, making you needy, as he slides one finger in.

“Just fuck me already.” You whine, not wanting to wait any longer.

You lift your hand to your mouth and lick your palm, coating it slick, to take your hand to your partner’s cock. You stroke him, transferring the spit in preparation as lube, Yifan’s breathing staggers, as you tighten your grip on him, before letting go as he places his hand on top of yours.

He lines himself up, with your now dripping cunt, and though you have fucked a thousand times, at least, if not more, you are still breath-taken every time at the sheer stretch required to take his size in. Yifan is careful in his movement, positioning himself just right so that he does not push against your stomach, as he thrusts in as deep as he can go.

“Fuck... Look at you taking all of me, god, you’re such a good girl.” He praises you, as he pulls back to thrust into you again.

“Your cock is fucking perfect, Daddy.” You moan, crying out as his cock hits you where you see stars.

He takes a hand to your breast again, teasing your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, the overload of pleasure has you panting, clenching around his cock, as he continues to pound into you.

“Oh Jesus... fuck.” Yifan moans, and you gaze down to where he is staring, at your breast in his hand, you’re fucking leaking.

He leans down, taking your breast to his mouth, his tongue swipes at the bud, clearing away the droplets that have formed, though you are so aroused now you do not think they are going to stop. Yifan hums into you, fuck, you have never seen him turned on like this, you knew that pregnancy was his... thing... but you had no idea just how much it was so.

His forehead is beaded in sweat, and you can tell how hard he is trying to keep it together, you have not cum yet, although you are close, but you feel like Yifan would beat you to it if he let himself go. Though he is not one to cum first, always simultaneously or after, you know him too well, but you do not want to hurt him, so you focus on the pressure building in you, the way his cock thrusts at just the right angle, the way he grinds into you every time he bottoms out.

“Daddy’s so close, baby. Gonna cum, gonna get you fucking pregnant again, you want that, huh?” Yifan grunts, you can tell now that he will barely last another moment, though you too are dizzyingly close.

“Please Daddy, I need you to fill me, want all of your fucking babies.” You cry, feeling your orgasm as it reaches it’s peak and breaks through.

Your words were more than enough for Yifan, as only seconds later he follows suit, moaning in sync with you as he releases, doing exactly as he promised, filling you to the fucking brim, you are both lost in the moment, you can’t think straight as he fucks his cum deep into you, not stopping until he is running on empty.

“Shit, you’re so good to me, baby.” He praises you as he pulls out, though you are not bare for long, as he replaces his cock with two of his fingers.

He thrusts his fingers deep into you, while teasing your clit with his thumb, god damnnit he is gonna make you cum again, you just know it.

“Can’t let Daddy’s cum go to waste baby, hold it in for me, feels good, right?” He asks you, though you are so sensitive right now you can’t even begin to try and answer him.

After only just beginning to descend from your first orgasm, your second builds in record time, though you expect no less from your incredible partner, he knows you better than you know yourself, fuck, you are close again. Your body writhes under his, legs shaking, breathing laboured as you try to stay focused on the unexplainable pleasure you feel.

“Cum for Daddy, sweetheart. That’s a good girl... just like that.” He guides you.

You are done for, you pull Yifan forward by the neck to kiss you, moaning his own name into his mouth as your body convulses to his touch, and his fingers fuck you through your high perfectly, until you can’t take anymore, and you grab his wrist to stop him.

“Fuck, you’re fucking perfect.” Yifan sighs, kissing you again, before taking his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean.

“I love you.” You smile, grazing his cheek with your fingertips.

“I love you too,” He replies, “Now stay there, I’ll run the bath, and make your lunch, and... what else do you need?”

You chuckle, because of course he is back to his over-protective, caring self as soon as his head is clear, as soon as he has released the pent up desperation he had. You are lucky, so fucking lucky, you look down at your stomach, and then up at the man in front of you, grateful for all that you have. You reach out and take his hand in yours, guiding it to rest on your bare skin, you hold his hand down firmly.

“The baby’s kicking.”

[writingsonawall]

Falling, fallen chapter 1

Pairings: Spencer Reid x OFC

Story summary: Spencer randomly meets Leah at the library and their first encounter was supposed to be just that; a random one-time occurance. When an unsub lands Spencer in the very same hospital she works at, she feels obligated to take care of him. But what happens when his team notices her everlooming presence and theorises that perhaps she could be the unsub they’re looking for?

Chapter summary: The guy Leah had met at the library just an hour ago suddenly gets wheeled into the ER where she works. 

Warnings: Mention of blood, but not a lot.

Wordcount: 6,6 k

Prologue, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7,

Leah hadn’t even been on call for half an hour when a stretcher was rolled in through the doors of the ER, someone shouting “Male, early thirties! Gunshotwound to the lower abdomen.” That was about all she was able to concentrate on. The ER was a mess of chaos, every available doctor and nurse running between patients. People were running into each other, medicalequipments crashing onto the floor every now and then, some patients screaming out in pain… Leah could feel the beginning of a migraine sneaking up on her. She almost never worked in the ER, usually sticking to Post Op. or the ICU, but there had been a masscollision on the highway that night so it was kind of like an all hands on deck situation. 

Leah was currently working on picking out broken glass from the arm of an elderly woman. It wasn’t a terrible wound, but judging by the way it was bleeding she’d probably need stitches. Still, Leah had no idea why she was there. Her injuries weren’t lifethreatning and the ER was overcrowded with other patients who actually needed their attention more than this woman. She’d be just fine if she had gone to an urgent care, but Leah wasn’t about to argue.

 “Leah, I’m gonna need you with me in traumaroom 2.” Dr. Ruiz called over the noise and it gathered her attention. She caught his glance across the room and saw that he was following the stretcher which had just been brought in by the ambulance. Leah quickly mumbled her apologies to the woman, pulled off her gloves and started to navigate through the sea of chaos. She eventually pushed the doors of traumaroom 2 open, rubbing her hands dry from the sanitizer she’d covered them with. 

“What’s his status?” Leah asked once she entered, quickly making her way over to the man laying across the stretcher. She knew why Dr. Ruiz had called her in here. The patient was a gunshotvictim, which usually meant a lot of blood. Typically, in cases like this, there were two doctors to check the injuries and make medicaldecisions. Gunshotwounds were always messy and it was hard to know what to expect, so two doctors in the room was always ideal, just in case the patient were to crash or there was a lifethreatning injury. But currently all doctors seemed to be otherwise occupied, so Leah understood why Dr. Ruiz had called her in. Blood and gore never bothered her, it actually made her calmer. The more pressure she had on her shoulders, the calmer and more collected she stayed. She was on the traumateam for a reason, although be it as a nurse, so she had seen a thing or two in her past. 

“Oh my God, Spencer!” She exclaimed, surprised to discover the identity of the man sprawled out in front of her. She stood there frozen in place for a moment, wondering what had happened. She had left him at the library not even an hour previously and now he was here, blood pooling slowly from the open wound in his abdomen. 

The surprise only shocked her for a split second before she shook herself out of her thoughts. Stroking a hand over his forehead, she matted his mop of curls out his face. Using a thumb to force one of his eyelids open, she grabbed a small flashlight from the pocket of her scrubs. 

“Spencer, can you hear me?” She asked him, shining the light into his eyes a few times, watching for any sort of unusual reaction of his pupils. She did the same with the other eye. “Spencer?” She asked once more. He was out cold, but his pupils responded as expected so that made her a little more at ease. 

“You know him?” Dr. Ruiz asked over his shoulder, roaming through the cabinets to find all the equipments he’d need to fully check the injuries. 

“Well, kinda,” Leah answered, not knowing what else to say in that moment. There was no use to lie about the fact that she’d met him an hour earlier, but she didn’t exactly know him. 

“Are you gonna be okay with this or do you need to step out?” Dr. Ruiz asked her, finally returning to stand at Spencer’s other side. 

“I’m good,” Leah told him, probably a little too fast to sound convincing. But it was true, she was nothing if not professional. 

“Okay,” Dr. Ruiz nodded. “Ready to move him?” He asked and it was Leah’s turn to nod. She pushed the stretcher closer to the bed in the room as Dr. Ruiz got out of the way. Locking the breaks of the stretcher so it wouldn’t budge, she grabbed a tight hold of the sheet underneath Spencer as the doctor did the same on the other side. They locked eyes and counted. One, two, three. In a split second they had Spencer lifted onto the bed with such ease it looked like they had done it a hundred times before. Which they actually probably had. Dr. Ruiz was one of the doctors Leah worked closest with, since he was typically stationed at Post Op. When they were both on call, Leah was nomally the person Dr. Ruiz would call for if he needed help. They were kind of a dream team; a force to be reckoned with whenever they worked together. 

As the doctor started to cut Spencer’s shirt open, Leah wheeled the stretcher out into the hall to give them space. Locking the door behind her again, she quickly took a look at his medicalfile which another nurse had just delivered in her hand. 

“This is gonna hurt. Let’s push for 10mg Oxycodone,” Dr. Ruiz told her once she returned to Spencer’s side. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Cave morphine,” Leah told him as she started slicing Spencer’s shirt open from his sleeve up to his shoulder. 

“Addiction or allergy?” The dortor asked. 

“Addiction. Dilaudid,” Leah informed him, having just read it in his file. She had already snapped gloves onto her hands and was working on getting the IV-kit ready. “Tramadol would be a safer option, right?” Tramadol was usually the kind of drugs they’d give to patients after minor surgeries or injuries to manage the pain. It was hardly as effective as Oxy-preparations, but it  was usually still enough to take the edge off. They hardly ever used it before they were able to assess the pain level of the patients, but it still seemed to be the least addictive morphinecontaining drug they had at hand. And given Spencer’s injuries some sort of morphine was needed despite what his medicalfile said. He needed something for the pain and NSAIDs weren’t going to cut it in that moment. They could handle whatever addiction-problem he had later; when he wasn’t in a potential life-threatening situation.

Dr. Ruiz nodded his head acutely, ordering her to administer 50mg. Leah worked quickly, finding a usable vein in Spencer’s hand and poking the cannula into it. Taping it down onto his hand, she hooked a bag of ring acetate to the pole by the bed and connected the tube to the IV. She noticed Spencer twitching a little at that and she moved to stand over his head. 

“Spencer, are you awake?” She asked, once again matting his hair back. She noted, even through the gloves she was wearing, that he was warm and sweaty. “I’m gonna give you something for the pain, okay? It’s Tramadol, so I hope that’s okay,” she informed him, even though she highly doubted that he was coherent enough to register her words. She did as she’d said she’d do, pushing a needle Dr. Ruiz had readied for her into the IV-tube and slowly administered the drug. While the painkillers worked its way through his system, she leaned over to help Dr. Ruiz. She put pressure on the wound on his abdomen while the doctor probed around with an ultrasound, trying to look for anything that could indicate whether Spencer had an internal bleeding. 

It didn’t even take a minute before Spencer calmed down, his twitching stopping completely and his breathing evening out. She was glad for that, not wanting him to be more uncomfortable than necessary. 

“You paged me?” A woman's voice startled Leah and she turned to the door which was now wide open. She was another doctor, but Leah couldn’t really recall her name. Not that she really cared either. 

“Yes!” Dr. Ruiz said, tightening the bandage they had just wrapped around Spencer’s wound. It was still bleeding, but the wrappings should be able to hold for the transport to the OR. “GSW to the lower abdomen. Patient is non responding, but stable. No sign of internal bleeding, but I’m sure he needs surgery to remove that bullet,” Dr. Ruiz informed the other woman who nodded along. She moved further into the room and cast a quick look at Spencer, checking the vitals, pupil responses, making sure the oxygenprosentage of his mask was correct before she once again nodded. 

“I agree. He’s stable enough to be moved? Then we should wheel him down to Pre Op.,” she concluded. 

“I’ll go with him,” Leah found herself speaking before she could even register those thoughts. 

“No, no, no, Leah,” Dr. Ruiz said, laying a clean hand on her shoulder. “I need you here in the ER. I’ll go with him and I’ll keep you updated. Don’t worry, he’s going to be fine.” His words reassured her a little. It’s not like Spencer was a friend or anything, but she knew him enough to put a name to the face and that brought this whole case a little closer to home. But she let him go, knowing she was needed more in the ER. 

She kept her hands busy for the next two hours before Dr. Ruiz finally returned, hovering just behind her as she was working on trying to determine if she should send the teenager in front of her up to radiology or not. 

“He’s in surgery now,” Dr. Ruiz informed her, not giving a care to the boy Leah was inspecting. He cried out in pain when she moved his foot at an odd angle. 

“I think he needs to take a trip over to radiology. Do you mind signing the papers?” Leah asked the doctor, not wanting to talk about Spencer right now, especially not in front of another patient. She let Dr. Ruiz take over the patient, but she hovered around until they had sent the boy on his way. She cleaned up after herself and took a glance around the ER. It was getting quiet now. The rush of patients had died down now and she spotted several doctors and nurses just hanging around, chatting and taking a well deserved minibreak. 

“Come on,” Dr. Ruiz said, putting a gentle hand on Leah’s shoulder. “Let’s grab a quick coffee and then you can head up to the ICU.” Leah had never felt more relieved by the idea of a cup of the shitty coffee the hospital had to offer. She really needed coffee now. 

Leah had always liked Dr. Ruiz. She considered him a friend, at least a workfriend. It’s not just that they worked well together, but he was always very considerate; always being there if she needed a shoulder to cry on at the end of a hard day, pushing her to take a break because she always refused to, bringing her powerbars if there was a busy day and they didn’t have time for a real meal. He was nice and she liked how she could always lean on him. 

“I don’t actually know him,” Leah finally spoke up once they had both filled up their cups with the cheap stuff the vendingmachines wanted to pass as coffee. Dr. Ruiz didn’t say anything, just gave a gesture of his hand for her to continue. He leaned back against the wall of the corridor and Leah mirrored him. “We just met earlier today, actually. I forgot my librarycard at the library and he found it, handed it back. We just had a small conversation, nothing big. But then I got called in for the accident, so I had to leave. I mean, I’d seen him just an hour ago and then they wheeled him in,” she explained, not really knowing what to feel. 

“And what? You blame yourself or something?” He asked, clearly reading her mind. 

“No, not really,” she told him, which was an obvious lie. “I guess it just shocked me. I don’t know. I mean, maybe it could have been me. I don’t even know what happened to him, but I keep thinking that it could have been me. Or maybe if I had stayed a little longer then this wouldn’t have happened at all.” She hadn’t heard anything about what had actually happened. Maybe it had been a robbery gone wrong, or maybe there had been a shootout and he was in the middle of the crossfire. She didn’t suspect the last one since they hadn’t received any other gunshotwound-patients, but the possibilities were still endless. All she knew was that he was brought in with a bullet in his abdomen and that he would hopefully pull through. 

“You know, you should really stop thinking like that. It’s not healthy,” Dr. Ruiz told her and it was exactly what she needed to hear. No bullshit excuse about how it wasn’t her fault or that there wouldn’t have been anything she could’ve done. Just a plain and simple command to stop overthinking. It made a small smile play on her lips. 

“Yeah, well… How can I not?” She asked him, glancing up. He gave her a sad smile, knowing it was hard to let those thoughts go. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his body. Leah sighed, leaning her head back into his shoulder while taking a sip of her coffee. He didn’t say anything else and neither did she. They just stayed there in silence for another few moments before he started leading her down the corridor. They said their goodbyes in front of the ICU, Dr. Ruiz promised he’d keep her updated on Spencer’s surgery. 

Leah prepared for a long night. Nightshifts were usually crap because it was so quiet and she was the kind of person who needed things to do. If she didn’t, she usually got all fidgety and restless, which was also why she never liked reading. She couldn’t sit still for longer periods of time. The more things she had to do, the better she felt once she got home at the end of the day. She had also prepared for a doubleshift, knowing the morning would be busy with doctorvisits, family coming to see their loved ones, breakfast coming around and helping certain patients go to the bathroom and get cleaned up. Yeah, she looked forward to the morning, but for right now she dreaded the long night ahead. 

Dr. Ruiz came up a little after two in the morning to let her know that Spencer was out of surgery and was recovering nicely. He’d been lucky, the bullet not hitting any major organs, but it had nicked his bladder so they were afraid of how his bladdercontrol would be. They wanted to keep him catheterized for a few days just to make sure everything was working properly. Apparently, he was also risking the development of internal bleeding and infections. Leah knew that, there was always a risk of that when it came to injuries like Spencer’s, but it rarely ever happened, not unless the bullet had nicked something or the surgery went wrong. But there was still a chance, so they always informed each other of it. She still knew that chances were slim so she wasn’t overly concerned about it. She was mostly happy he was going to be fine. 

Spencer was rolled into his own room at the ICU around 3:30 A.M. and Leah made it her personal business to check up on him. She finished the rest of her round rather quickly after that. Once she finished up the most important tasks she grabbed a fresh cup of coffee and some food from the cafeteria. For the next hour she hid out in Spencer’s room, figuring she’d deserved a nice, long break since she was going to pull a doubleshift. It was a quiet night anyway so she didn’t even feel remotely bad about it. 

He woke up a little before six in the morning, groaning softly from the bed beside her. Leah glanced over at him, giving him a moment to orient himself. She knew that her position was highly unprofessional; sitting a chair beside him with her feet propped up on his bed next to his. But she didn’t care. Her feet were aching and she loved being able to relieve the pressure for a little while. So, she played it cool, deciding it would be worse to drop her legs down in embarrassment. 

“Well, hey there, Stranger!” Leah decided to greet him with the biggest smile she could master. Spencer seemed to be more alert now and he had glanced everywhere imaginable; the door, her feet, the heartmonotor, the IV-bag, the ceiling. Still, his eyes wavered between her feet and her face. 

“You’re wearing mismatched socks,” he finally said. Leah couldn’t help but chuckle at that. That was probably the strangest thing anyone had ever said to her after coming out of surgery. 

“You know, we ruled out braintrauma pretty early on, but maybe we should still call neuro?” She teased. She could see a blush creep up his cheeks, taininting them in under half a second. His eyes roamed around again, finally locking in on the clock hanging above the door. 

“No, that won’t be necessary,” he told her bluntly and Leah felt like he probably wasn’t in jokingmood. “Where are my things? I need to call my boss,” he said trying to move up into a sitting position. Leah decided to just watch him struggle for a moment, finding it highly amusing even though she was still a little worried about him. He was probably still woozy from the anesthesia so sitting up appeared to be a struggle. Finally, Leah dropped her feet from his bed when he groaned out in pain. She walked over to him, putting both her hands on his shoulder and pushing him firmly back. 

“Don’t pull your stitches,” she told him. She took a seat in the chair again, grabbing the remote to bed and began to raise his back. He groaned out again when he was almost sitting, so she lowered the back a few notches again. “Don’t be a baby now,” she teased, but her voice was probably a little harsh. She couldn’t help it. She’d had a long day and she had been really worried about him. 

“I’m not a baby,” he whispered and Leah could see a pout on his lips. It only made her smirk. 

“You sure about that?” She asked, leaning over to snatch his file from the holder at the end of the bed. “You know what they say, right? About doctors being the worst patients?” She raised an eyebrow at him to give him the indication that she knew he was a doctor. It was in his file after all. 

“I’m not that kind of doctor,” he informed her and Leah just chuckled.

“Yeah, I figured that much out. I’ve been around enough real doctors, so trust me when I say you’re definitely not the type,” she laughed. “No offense, of course,” she decided to add as an afterthought. 

“None taken,” he replied, a little slurred. Leah looked over at him. “Can I call my boss now?” He asked and Leah sighed. 

“Spencer, look… they’re already here, your friends I mean-” He cut her off before she even had the chance to say anything else. 

“They’re not my friends. They’re my team.” His words surprised her. She hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to them yet, but she’d heard that they had all been really worried and constantly asked for updates on his condition. They seemed genuinely worried about his wellbeing. 

“And they can’t be your friends because they’re ‘your team’?” She asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. 

“Are you friends with your coworkers?” Spencer asked back, and it should’ve been a witty comeback, but he actually sounded interested in knowing. 

“Can’t say that I am,” she said after pondering the thought for a second or so. “Touché, by the way. But my point is, just take a minute to wake up a little bit. I’ll go get them later so you can see them, okay? Just please… take a breather, alright? And I want the doctor to take a look at you first as well. Do you even remember what happened? You just woke up from surgery after getting shot. Let that sink in before I call them in.” 

“I’m fine,” Spencer insisted, but Leah just shot him a stern look. She stared him down for what felt like too long before he finally caved, leaning a little further back in his seat with a sigh. 

“Good,” Leah smiled. She took a moment to really study him for the first time. He was actually really handsome, with these greenish eyes which got more honeybrown towards the middle and shaggy brown hair which she suspected was always unkept. His nose was straight and his lips slightly plump, skin clean. He actually looked like a specimen. The only negative thing she could point out were the dark circles under his eyes and she felt her heartstring tug a little, wondering what nightmares kept him up at night. The nasal cannula going into his nostrils made him look even sicker than he probably was, but it was still a sight for poor eyes. 

“So, you’re… a nurse?” He asked after a few more moments of silence. Leah couldn’t help the bashful smile that stretched across her lips. 

“Well, isn’t that kind of obvious?” She laughed, adoring how cute he was when he got all awkward. She took a sip of her coffee and decided it was time to call for the doctor, so she reached over Spencer's head to press the green button on the wall. Spencer was giving her a strange look and she had no idea what that meant. “What?” She asked him, cocking an eyebrow. His intense stare was kind of making her uneasy, but there was no way she was going to show him that. 

“I just didn’t take you for the nursing-type,” he mumbled. “No offense,” he quickly added, just as she had done previously. But he looked almost terrified about it, as if he was actually afraid he’d insulted her. Leah could only laugh. 

“Don’t worry about it,” she assured him. “I wouldn’t exactly picture myself as the type either, but here we are. I’m damn good at my job, though.” As if on cue the door to the room opened and Sophie, a young girl who happened to be Leah’s intern, stepped through the door. She decided to have a little fun with that. “Ah! Dr. Reid, meet my intern. Sophie, this is Dr. Reid. You’re in charge of him when I’m not here. Got it?” Spencer gave her an uncertain glance and Sophie had a look of pure horror on her face. She locked eyes with Leah, the ‘Oh dear God, he’s a doctor’ kind of look written over her face. Sophie was a sweet girl, but kind of slouch, and Leah had a tendency to play small little tricks to get her to work just a little harder. Knowing that the patient was a doctor (she didn’t need to know he wasn’t a medical doctor) would definitely nudge her to go the extra mile. 

“You, um, you called?” Sophie asked a little uncertainly and Leah found herself pleased when she noted the not so subtle way she leaned over to take a pump of the handsanatizer hanging on the wall by the door. It had been one of the many things Leah had added to her list of improving areas; always sanitize your hands before entering and leaving a patient’s room. 

“Yeah,” Leah tried to hide her grin. “Who’s on call right now?” She asked, knowing she could just as well walk out the door and find out herself, but she loved torturing her interns just a little bit. She never crossed the line, but she always pushed them around just enough that they’d remember who was in charge. She loved it, a little innocent fun. 

“Uhm, well… There’s you, obviously… and, uh, me and-” Sophie started and Leah resisted the urge to roll her eyes. 

“Sophie, calm down. It’s fine. I mean doctors, who’s on call?” Leah smiled up at Sophie, trying to reassure her that she’d only been joking. Well, at least half-joking. That was another one of Sophie’s flaws; she was too uncertain of herself and could hardly handle a joke. 

“Oh, um. I’m not sure,” Sophie mumbled, but didn’t make any move to find out. Leah just stared at her until she lifted her eyes to glance back. 

“So?” Leah asked and Sophie looked even more confused at that. “Are you gonna find out for me?” That seemed to startle her because she almost jumped. 

“Oh, right! Yes, I’ll be right back.” She was out the door so fast Leah couldn’t help but laugh. She shook her head to herself and stood up from the chair, leaning closer to the heartmonitor and noting down Spencer’s vitals on his chart. 

“That was mean,” Spencer mumbled. Leah looked at him for a second, pausing her hand which was still writing. 

“It’s a bit of innocent fun. I’m their boss and you see that pager behind you,” she pointed her pen at the wall behind his head. She didn’t even wait for him to try to turn around to look at it before she continued. “It makes me their God,” she finished with a smug smile and gave him a wink. Spencer narrowed his eyes at her. 

“She’s your intern. You’re supposed to teach her, not scare her half to death.” He sounded almost angry, despite the uncertainty in his voice. Wow, this guy really couldn’t take a joke. Leah sighed. 

“Look, it’s a bit of innocent fun. We have a good relationship and we always have a little debriefing at the end of the day. She’d tell me if I was being too harsh on her,” she said. She finished the chart and put it down in the holder by the end of the bed. She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed a little. “You probably think I’m too rough on her or whatever, and sure, I probably am. But here’s the thing, and I probably shouldn’t even tell you this, but she’s insecure. She needs to learn how to stand on her own two feet. She’s probably gonna lash out on me one of these days and I’m gonna be so proud of her the day she does. She’s a snowflake and she really needs to learn how to stand up for herself.” She decided it was best to just be honest with him. In all honesty she shouldn’t care what Spencer thought of her, but she did. She didn’t want him to think that she was some heartless bitch. She loved being a mentor and loved looking out for her interns. Sophie, despite all her flaws, was her favourite. Leah could see her potential, if she just worked past her insecurities she’d be a damn fine nurse one day. 

“So, you’re… bullying her to make her, what, stand up for herself?” Spencer asked, surprise lacing his voice, but he didn’t sound angry anymore. That was a good thing, she guessed. 

“I’m not bullying her. Just pushing her buttons a little. Call it reversed psychology or whatever. It always works.” Leah grabbed her zipup hoodie which she had draped over the chair and stuck her arms through. She shook the hood in place so it wasn’t one giant ball in the back of her neck. Spencer gave her a small smile and she wondered what he was thinking. She didn’t want to stay long enough to figure out though. “Okay, well… I’ll go see about that doctor. I’ll go get your friends in a while, so hang out and try to, I don’t know, relax I guess? Call if you need anything,” she told him, placing a gentle hand on his arm just because she could. Grabbing her coffeecup under her armpit she took a few pumps of handsanatizer on the way out. She made her way to the nursesation just as Sophie came practically running down the hall. 

“Jameson’s on call right now,” She said, almost sounding out of breath. Leah wondered if she had been running all over the Goddamned hospital to figure that out. 

“Okay, did you tell him to take a look at 104?” She asked and Sophie’s eyes went wide. Leah realized quickly what that meant. “No, no! Sophie, it’s okay. Seriously. I’ll go find him. Don’t worry about it,” Leah gave her a reassuring smile, reaching out to squeeze both her shoulders. “Did you finish your schedule yet?” She asked, knowing her interns had some kind of schedule, like a plan, they were supposed to follow.

“Uhm, well, I still have to take out the trash in 109 and I have some other small things I haven’t done yet, but-”

“Don’t worry about that,” Leah cut her off with a dismissive wave of her hand. She threw away her now empty papercup and hung her hoodie over the chair by the computer. “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry. Take a break or something, get some air, whatever.” Sophie seemed a little reluctant to the idea, but nodded her head acutely. 

“Would you, uhm, like me to bring you back some more coffee? Black right?” Sophie asked and Leah couldn’t help but grin at her. 

“Yes, please. Take your time, though.” With that Sophie took her leave and Leah went to find Dr. Jameson to let him know that Spencer was awake and needed a quick check. She then went back to the nursingstation to check what was next on her to-do list. She finished her round rather quickly, even with Sophie’s small list of things she’d neglected to do, or hadn’t gotten around to do or for whatever other reason just hadn’t done yet. It was just minor things, so she didn’t mind. Sophie seemed to have been doing alright with everything else. 

When she once again returned to the nursingstation there was a steaming papercup with her name on it, decorated with a simple smileyface. Leah smiled at that. She sat down by the computer and started documenting the most important details of the nightswatch so the morningshift would know what had gone down. Just as she was about to finish up, Sophie approached her, fidgeting a little. 

“Thanks for the coffee, Sophie,” Leah told her, hoping that would ease her nervousness a little. 

“Oh, no problem!” Sophie smiled. “Uhm, Jameson took a look at the good doctor in 104 and-” Leah had to cut her off with a chuckle. 

“That’s what we’re calling him now?” 

“Well… he hasn’t yelled at me yet for screwing up and he’s actually been kind of polite, so… I guess?” She sounded so uncertain again. 

“Well, what did you screw up?” Leah wasn’t mad. Everyone made mistakes, even her, and she just needed to know if it was a major blowup she had to document or if it was a small thing that could hardly be called a mistake. 

“Oh, nothing I think? I’m just really afraid of messing up,” Sophie told her, rather nonchalantly and Leah felt a little proud of her for not freaking out.  

“Okay, good. Look, Sophie… You don’t have to be afraid of messing up. Everyone messes up and I won’t get mad or anything, alright? You know I’m only teasing you, right? I don’t mean anything by it.” Leah always felt good about having these heart to heart talks with Sophie. 

“Yeah, I know. It’s just, uhm, I’m kinda awkward, I guess.” Leah laughed at that and Sophie gave a soft chuckle as well. Good thing for her that Spencer seemed twice as awkward as her. Maybe that would help boost her confidence. 

“Anyway, sorry I cut you off. What were you gonna say about the good doctor?” Leah really liked that nickname, it seemed to be suiting him. 

“Oh, yeah! Uhm, Jameson said that everything seemed to be alright, but wants to keep him here under observation at least until tomorrow just to make sure. And he’s still on antibiotics four times a day and we can amp up his painkillers, but he doesn’t want any morphine.” That last part didn’t surprise her whatsoever. “And he decided to switch off the oxygen for now, but to keep it on standby just in case his saturation decreases.” That wasn’t a surprise either. Most patients receive oxygen after surgery because the anesthesia could make them sluggish and their breathing labored. Once it wears off they’d be taken off oxygen as well. 

“Okay, that’s good,” Leah said, nodding along. “Anything else?” 

“Oh, yeah. He, uhm, wants to see his coworkers now and I told him he could only see two at a time, because that’s still the rule, right? He wanted to see Hotch and J.J. first. I guess you could get them?” Leah nodded her head and gave Sophie a pat on the back before returning to finish up her reports. It was around 6:45 A.M. when she headed out to the waiting area with her coffeecup in hand, recently refilled after she’d downed the one Sophie had brought her.

“Do I have a Hotch and J.J. for Spencer Reid?” Leah asked, scanning the waitingarea. She somehow knew the people she was looking for before they rose from their seats to come greet her. The whole group of, wow, six people practically came running for her. 

“Is he okay?” One of the women, dressed in a very colorful dress and an excessive amount of accessories asked, almost screaming out. She must have been very worried. Leah noted the flowers in her hand and grimaced at the thought of having to tell her later that flowers weren’t allowed in the ICU.

“He’s fine. He’s fully awake now,” Leah tried to reassure her. “He’s given me permission to share the specifics of his condition, so I can do that now, or you can wait for the doctorsvisit later today to get some more details. He’s just been checked out by a doctor now, though, and everything seems to be alright. He’ll probably stay in the ICU until tomorrow at least before we consider moving him.” She gave them the rest of what she knew and they seemed pleased that he was doing okay. So was Leah. Bulletwounds to the abdomen were typically gnarly cases, but Spencer had been really lucky. 

“Can we see him now?” The darkhaired woman asked, sounding just as worried as the other one had been just a minute ago. 

“Sure, but he’s in the ICU and we only allow two visitors at a time. We’ve asked and he wanted to see Hotch and J.J. first,” Leah told them, still having no idea who the respective ones were. 

“What, so I don’t get to see him?” The dark skinned man asked. He sounded angry, annoyed and frustrated, but Leah didn’t find him intimidating whatsoever, even despite the fact that he towered over her. 

“As I said, only two at a time. But he can have visitors all day for all I care, so you can take turns to see him, I don’t care how you do it. But only two at a time.” She tried to sound stern, but she also had sympathy for them. They’d been worried sick all night and they probably wanted to storm his room and hug him.

“Come on! That’s a bunch of bullshit!” The man yelled, obviously getting a little agitated. Leah wanted to step forward forward, put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down or something, but before she got the chance the tall man in the suit, yes a Goddamned suit, stepped forward. 

“Morgan,” He raised his hand in a stopmotion which immediately calmed the man down. “We’ll be quick. You’ll get to see him.” That seemed to do the trick because he sighed in defeat and stepped back. 

“Alright then, follow me!” Leah said and turned on her heel, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. She had other things to do, not really, but she could at least pretend she did. Standing in the waitingroom and arguing with friends and family of patients was not something she wanted to spend her whole day doing. 

“Wait, Sir. Can you bring him these for me?” Leah noticed that it was Flowerwoman who had spoken. 

“Actually, Ma’am… flowers are not allowed in the ICU either. I’m really sorry. If we move him to another unit tomorrow, you can bring him whatever you want, but as of right now I’m gonna have to say no,” she said, turning her body to give the woman an apologetic look. 

“Oh.” She sounded utterly wrecked as she uttered the simple word and it made Leah a little sad. These people cared so deeply for Spencer. How could he possibly claim they weren’t his friends?

She brought J.J,, a young woman a little taller than herself, and Hotch, the man who had calmed down the black man earlier, through the doors of the ICU. She quickly located Spencer’s room and knocked on the door a few times before entering. He seemed pleasantly surprised to see his colleagues following right behind her. 

“Oh, Spence!” J.J. exclaimed, rushing over to his bed. Leah rubbed some sanitizer on her hands as she watched her bend down to give him a gentle hug. She grabbed his chart from the end of his bed again and noted down his vitals as the three of them exchanged their greetings, also reading through what the doctor had written earlier. 

“Dr. Jameson was in here earlier. He explained that we’ve taken you off oxygen, right?” She hated to break up their happy reunion, but she had to give him some information before she bid her farewell. They all turned to look at her as she disposed of the chart again. “You understand that if you experience any shortness of breath, any dizzyness, anything at all you have to call, right?” She asked, looking directly at Spencer. 

“Well, I’m a doctor, so, of course I understand.” His response brought a smile onto her lips. 

“Well, you’re not that kind of doctor,” Leah laughed, throwing his previous words back at his face. “Do you need anything before I leave?” She asked and Spencer shook his head. “Well, if you do, don’t hesitate to call,” she told him seriously while pointing at the caller behind his head. She turned to leave when Spencer spoke up again. 

“Does, uhm, does that mean I’ll be your God?” Leah was stunned a little, not fully understanding what he meant, but then she remembered how she’d previously joked about being a God to her interns. Wow, her brain was working slowly. She needed more coffee. 

“Hey! Don’t push it now.” She tried to be stern, but her lips tugged upwards on their own accord. She then bid her goodbyes, shutting the door on the way out.

[det-loki]

poison & wine part four

And you will destroy anyone who would try to harm her

But what happens when karma turns right around to bite you?  

warnings: angst, cursing

pairing: detective loki x fem reader

word count: 3,000

A/N: I don't know why I struggled with this chapter so much but I did. I finally got it to a place that makes me happy though. Again, feedback is welcomed. Enjoy! 💕

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You woke up feeling like death. Your brain was pounding against your skull, eyes sore, body aching, screaming for you to rest. You had no time to rest though. You sprawl your arm, reaching to the opposite side of the bed to hopefully find Loki but to no surprise, it was already vacant and cold. You rolled over to the bedside table, glancing at the clock, 5:46 A.M. You've got to be fucking kidding me. 

You stumbled blindly into the kitchen, your feet still heavy with sleep. Every step you took, your body screamed at you to lay back down, stars floating across your vision. You found David sitting at the kitchen table in his work clothes, sitting in silence, rigid. As you walked closer, you took notice of what was in his hands. A photo album. 

You almost collapsed on the spot, knees wanting to give out on you, your breath catching on your throat as you inhale sharply. Tears prick your eyes and your lip quivers as you step closer to David and the photo album. 

Reaching David, you lay a shaking hand on his shoulder, not daring to peer at whatever photo he was looking at. You knew which photo album it was, the bright pink making your brain foggy, the album stood out like a sore thumb in the minimal gray of the kitchen. You knew if you saw any of the pictures you wouldn't be able to get out of bed for a month. David jumps slightly at your touch, snapping the album closed, a hand coming up to wipe away tears that had fallen down his face. 

You moved from standing behind him to sit next to him, your hands finding each other as you sat down in the wooden chair, your body sighing in relief at the position.

"What are you doing, Loke?" Your voice came out as a rasp, crackling and chipping, sounding like sandpaper, disturbing the silence in the kitchen. Your voice sounded as broken as you felt.

"I needed to see her. Remember what we're fighting for. I-I was starting to lose her, her- I was starting to forget what she looked like. What kind of father is that, huh? What kind of father does that make me?" Loki's voice was rough with emotion, each word was a knife through your heart. He was the best father to your little girl, she had him wrapped around her finger since the day she was born. He was soft and tender with her, terrified of breaking her. After finding out you were pregnant, Loki went on a spiral of how he couldn't be a father, he didn’t know how. His childhood was nowhere near ideal, in and out of foster homes and juvenile detentions, his parents a figment of his imagination. He said he couldn’t be good and decent, claiming he was broken and corrupt. The first ultrasound appointment snapped him out of it, tears welled up in his eyes as the sound of your baby's heartbeat filled the room, his hand intertwined tightly with yours.  There wasn’t a thing in the world�� he wouldn’t do for her, the line didn’t exist. You knew somewhere in that photo album there was a picture of him with a pink crown on his head as your little girl was in his arms laughing. The memory caused a fresh wave of pain to hit you. 

"That makes you a grieving father who is in pain, Loki. Don't- please don't do this to yourself. She wouldn't want that for you. Or for either of us." The last thing you wanted was for David to fall down the spiraling hole of self-hatred. You could barely keep your head above water and you didn’t want him to drown with you. He deserved better.

"I know. I know. I just miss her. So fucking much, Y/N." David’s voice broke, crackling like static on a radio. 

"I know." There was nothing else to say, your brain was a jumbled mess, thoughts not making sense. You knew. 

"I went to her grave last week. I wasn't planning on it, I just ended up there. I'm sorry for not telling you, but it felt like something I needed to do alone. And then this fucking case, it doesn't feel real, it can't be a coincidence. It's like the universe knew." His words didn’t upset you, if anything it made you happy, he hadn’t visited her in a long time, he just wasn’t ready and you didn’t want to force him. You visited her regularly, in hopes to apologize or make things right, you didn’t know. The fact that he went made your heart warm temporarily, the cold would creep back in again eventually. 

"David, I'm not mad at you for visiting our daughter. I think that's good. I just- this case is eating us alive. We have to make it out of this alive, promise me we will." You needed to hear it, your ears, and heart desperate for a lifeline. Desperate for a life to come back to after this case ended. If it ever did.

“We will. I promise you we will.” David brought your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it, brushing over the small black ink of a snake on your middle finger. You hoped he was right.

Hours later, you sat at your desk reading over the autopsy report of the man found in the priest’s basement. Nothing. Your phone rang loudly in front of you. It was David. You pick it up, nestling it between your ear and shoulder as you reread the report.

“Hey, I’m out here at a house on Fairmount Circle, the house the RV was parked in front of. It’s only been on the market a couple of months. I’m gonna track the owners down, see if they know anything. You got any new info on that corpse we found in the priest’s basement?”

You sighed into the phone, “No DNA, dental or fingerprint matches.”

“Nothing.” David replied in a monotonous tone, sounding fine, a stark difference than he was this morning. He was compartmentalizing, a little too well. You hated it when he did that.

“Priest is sticking to the story, too.” You had gotten report from a fellow detective who took the case, informing you about the priest’s questioning. 

Loki scoffed into the phone, frustrated, “All right.” 

You look up from your computer to see David walk into the station, walking to his desk opposite from yours. He sat down and immediately started typing. A few minutes pass before he looks over, eyes finding your hunched form, “Come here.”

You rose from your desk, your vision exploding with stars as you made your way over, leaving over his shoulder to read whatever he had been looking at. 

The headline read: “Conyers Boy Disappears” dated August 31st, 1987. Barry Milland, age seven when he went missing from his family home.

David spoke below you, “ Let’s go.” You already knew where you were going, to contact the mother of still missing Barry. 

You stood in the living room of Mrs. Milland’s home, Loki next to you as she sat in a recliner in front of a TV playing an old home video of Barry. Your fingers dug into your thigh and Loki’s hand was clamped over his mouth, the universe was playing with you, the tape that was playing was mocking the both of you, teasing you for the fact that you have done the very same thing as she was doing now, clutching onto the last good memories. 

“Same person who took him took those girls. I’m sure of it.” Mrs. Milland’s voice shook with age as she spoke, eyes never leaving the screen.

The tape temporarily faltered, screen going static before returning to normal, “Wearing out the tape, I guess. I watch it every day after breakfast. It’s the only video I have of him.” She sighs before continuing, “It was before your time. 26 years ago, August 19th. I took a nap in the afternoon, and when I woke up Barry was gone. No one could ever tell me what happened to him. He was playing in the front yard, just a few feet from where they sat that RV was parked.”

God, you wanted to scream. Playing in the front yard and then gone. You were familiar with the pain and shame in her voice, you felt the very same thing every single day. 

She speaks again, ripping you away from your thoughts, “What do you think that means?” 

Loki raised his eyebrows, shaking his head as he looked at the carpeted ground, “I’m more interested in what you think that means.” 

She shook her head, eyes still trained on the screen, “I don’t think we’ll ever know. It’s just like Barry. No one took them. Nothing happened. They’re just gone.” 

You bit your lip so hard you tasted blood, fingers digging harder into the jean covered flesh of your thigh. Gone.

You and Loki sat in the car silently, digesting what you had been told by Mrs. Milland. 

"Why are we doing this, David?" You weren’t referring to where you were, rather than what you were. How you got to this point in your life, why?

"What? Here?” David looked at you, confused.

"No. This. This job. This case. Is it to avenge her? Justice? Bring peace to other families like we couldn't have? I love my job, don't get me wrong, but I can't but help but question why is it this case? Why us?” You looked out the car window as you spoke, not catching David’s gaze.

"I don't know. I don't know, but we will get through this. I'm here, Y/N.” There was never a moment David wasn’t there for you, and vice-versa. You both knew each other better than you knew yourselves, able to take care of each other better than you could take care of yourself.

Loki’s phone buzzing in the cup holder made you jump, the bubble that had formed popping, David grabbing for the phone, reading whatever text he had been sent, “We might have something with the priest.”

You stood in the hallway, awaiting Detective Chemelinski to escort you to the priest’s interrogation room as David shifted his weight nervously. The fellow detective showed up, motioning for David to follow. Loki looked at you with mild panic in his eyes, silently pleading for you to follow. He didn’t want to face the priest alone. The memories would be too toxic for him to face without you. You nodded your head reassuringly, following David and Detective Chemelinski into the interrogation room Father Patrick Dunn was being held in. 

Loki walked in first, you next, and Chemelinski last. You leaned against the wall as Loki greeted Dunn, “How you doin’, Father?” 

“I’m...I’m- getting better.” Father Dunn avoided eye contact with everyone, eyes set on the table in front of him.

Loki sat across from him, “So Detective Chemelinski tells me that you have some specifics about the crime you claim that guy committed. The abductor.”

The priest nodded, “He was...waging a war against God.”

Loki chuckled, looking over at Chemelinski in disbelief and shaking his head, “Great. That’s great. I thought you said he had something specific.” Loki continued to shake his head, stammering at the other detective and gesturing in disbelief in front of him with his hands. 

Detective Chemelinski looked at Father Dunn, “Tell him how he took the kids.” If it wasn’t for David wanting you in the room, you would have avoided the conversation, rather having the information relayed than point-blank. This was too raw, images of Loki in the boy’s home feeling like a white hot poker in your brain.

“He said...he took them in the daylight.” You swore you were going to pass out, your hands beginning to tremble at your sides. You wished you were stronger, able to do your job without feeling like you were going to die from the constant resurfacing of horrific memories of your little girl. Broad daylight. Screaming.  

Why were you doing this?

The priest continued, “Sometimes...more than one child at a time.”

Loki rolled his eyes, “He said that?” The priest nodded. “-Did he say he was with anybody? He did it alone?”

“He...he said he had a family.” 

Loki sighed, “That’s it?” The priest nodded again. Loki stood from the chair, shaking his head at Detective Chemelinski, “All right.” He walked to the door, tattooed hand on the handle, glaring at the detective, “Informative.” He walked out, leaving you to briefly apologize to Chemelinski before you ran to find David. 

You found him in the locker room, sitting on the bench with his head in his hands.

You approached him slowly, “Hey, you okay?” It was a stupid question, of course he wasn’t okay. Neither of you were okay. 

He looked up at you with tired eyes, “Yeah, I’m fine. I just needed a minute. The candlelight vigil is tonight if you wanna go.”

“I do. It’d be nice.” He nodded along with your words, you turned around and walked out of the room to give Loki sometime to himself. Sometimes silence could be healing, yet you didn’t think all of the silence in the world could heal these wounds. 

You stood in front of the microwave watching your mug of coffee spin in circles. Coffee was now the main staple of your diet. It was late at the station, you and Loki being the only few still left. The temperature had dropped outside rapidly, leaving a chill in the air. Loki was outside turning the car on so it would be heating up as you poured coffee in a thermos. 

You walked outside with thermos in hand, pulling your coat tighter as the wind bit through your coat. Loki was already inside the vehicle, waiting for you. You opened the passenger door, plopping down as the thermos sat at your feet. 

“You sure you wanna go to this thing?” Loki asked gingerly.

“Yeah. Do you not?” 

“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to. If you’re not up for it we can go home. I don’t want you to push yourself.” Loki spoke softly as not to disturb the ambiance inside the vehicle. 

“I’m okay, David. I promise. It’ll be nice, show our respect, it’s not like we have to stay long.”

David nodded as he put the car in gear, pulling out of the police station parking lot. 

Loki pulled up to the vigil, outside of the Dover’s home. A group of people had already gathered, lighting candles, placing flowers, and teddy bears. 

You and David leaned against the car, watching in sorrow. You saw Franklin Birch double over, sobbing as his family held him. Your heart broke at the sight, you wished nothing more than to bring his daughter back unharmed. Each passing day caused unease to spread further and further in your body, day four setting a new record of turmoil.  

Time passed as people started to leave, the group diminishing slightly. Beside you,  Loki put on a stocking cap and rubbed his hands together for warmth. He still refused to wear gloves.  He abruptly pushed himself off the car, walking closer to the vigil, obviously taking notice of something you didn’t. You walked next to him slowly, unsure of what exactly he was doing. Then you saw it, a man crouched down with his coat hood up, stroking a teddy bear that had been placed, his gloved hand gliding over it in a manner that made you uncomfortable. He looked up, locking eyes with Loki, and then stood up stiffly, Loki’s eyes following every move. The man glanced at you and then turned away. Loki walked closer, trying to trail him as the man continued walking away. You had an inkling that he was going to run, so you turned around towards the car as Loki made his way through the crowd. 

Looking over your shoulder, you saw David take off in a dead sprint. Fuck.

You opened the driver’s side door of the car and sat down, grabbing the radio from the console. 

“Dispatch, this is 13-43, we have a police pursuit on foot, 13-40 is responding.  ”

The radio crackled to life, “10-4 detective, we have patrol rolling your way.”

“10-4” You sat the radio down, now all you had to do was wait for Loki to either come back or for him to call you to come get him.

30 minutes later, Loki came into view, slightly limping. He walked up to the car as you got out of the driver’s seat, “You should have stretched.”

Loki shrugged past you, “Yeah, fuck off. Now get out of my spot.”

You chuckled slightly as you walked around the car and pulled the door open and sat in your designated spot. Loki grabbed for the radio with his non-dominant hand, “Dispatch, this is 13-40. Pursuit has ended, the offender fled. Put a BOLO out, description will be given by an officer.”

Loki sighed heavily as he put the radio down, hand coming up to rub his right shoulder, “What happened, David?”

“The fucker jumped on me from a tree. I’m fine.” You rolled your eyes, Loki could be mauled by a bear and thrown into the ocean and he would still say he was fine. He was even more stubborn than you. 

You got home that night at 2 A.M., going to the station after the vigil for David to write up a media release on the guy that ran and to give a description. You tried to get David to let you look at his shoulder but he refused, claiming he was fine, even when moving it he winced slightly. 

That night you slept restlessly, dreams of hospitals and antiseptic haunting you. Making you question everything.

tag list: @lexie-wayland @whew-oh-em-gee @winterlavenderskysworld @buck-this-nasty @heeyirenee @pinkpunkdynamite

[hazbincalifornia]

Midnight Snack

Chapter 25: Blitzo gets peckish.

Warnings: As always, mpreg, and implied animal death. Also stuffing if that needs a tag I guess, and BABY VIOLENCE. (Violence committed by a baby, not against a baby.)

Likes, replies, and reblogs are all appreciated, both here and on ao3!

Ao3 link

Blitzo’s stomach gurgled, and his arms tightened around the pillow that he was hugging to his chest. A fussy, hungry stomach wouldn’t have necessarily been a problem, except for the fact that it had been doing it for the past hour, and he was just about ready to tear it right out of his skin and rip it in half. Acid sloshed around audibly in his empty gut- or maybe the freeloader wanted more room and was just squashing the organ down so much that it had resorted to griping as loudly as it could. Relatable fuckin’ content right there.

Dinner had been two burgers and fries smothered in hot sauce and mayo from the grease trap down the road, which was more than enough to coast through until breakfast. Besides, he’d be damned if the kid was going to make him deal with the grocery store any more than he had to in this condition. No, he was staying right where he was, especially considering he’d been denied any sleep last night. One day low on sleep was manageable with reduced caffeine, two would suck satan’s left tit.

“C’mon, that was enough and you know it, I don’t want you ruining my figure any more than you already have,” he grumbled as the muscles clenched around his stomach, wringing it out like a sponge and drawing a pitiful whine out of his throat. “I’m not gonna just- give in and give you whatever you want, daddy’s gotta do him sometimes and I’m not letting you empty out the fridge. I ate enough, siphon blood outta my system like a normal leech does. I’ve got plenty of that.”

The reply was another gurgling groan and a hard clench as Blitzo’s empty stomach demanded sustenance, this time loud enough to make his middle vibrate even through the pounds of baby. He stuffed the pillow over his mouth, drool leaking down the case and over his chin as he forced out a scream.

He had to take a few seconds to pant before setting a hand on the side of his stomach, fingers drumming. “This is a battle of wills, and I am not letting you win. Your baby-daddy already started all this shit, so I’m just going to treat you the same as him- by ignoring you as long as feasibly possible until you decide to pop up and make everything difficult. Sound good? Yeah, sounds perfect.” There was a nudge from inside and Blitzo nodded in satisfaction at the apparent agreement, settling back down on the bed. He’d gone to sleep hungry plenty of times before, the baby gut notwithstanding, he just had to muscle through this for the next few-

There was no time to muffle the next scream as a sudden pinching pain went from ‘noticeable’ to ‘holy shit who’s tearing up my guts with a chainsaw?’, and there was a thud and a shuffling of feet before Loona started pounding on the door.

“You having a heart attack in there or something?”

Blitzo clutched at his stomach, wheezing as he was clawed apart from the inside out. “N-no!”

“Look, if you die, I’m on the hook for the rent.” Still, there was a semi-worried vibrato to her voice, and he swallowed down the coppery taste flooding up with the saliva to his mouth.

“I’m- fINE-!” His voice pitched up at another pinch-turned-horrorshow and his claws dug all the way through the pillow, stuffing spilling out like viscera.

“What the fuck are you doing in there?” The doorknob jiggled. Where was a portable x-ray when you needed one? Or ultrasound, or whatever the fuck you used to look at a baby that was trying to kill him before it even got out yet. What kind of horrible mouth or claws must it have- oh, fucking hell, Stolas had said something about his kid having a razor-sharp beak from birth, hadn’t he?

“Okay, I’m coming in.” Loona eased the door open, already in her pajamas and clutching a package of opened peanut butter crackers tightly enough that crumbs were sticking to her fingers. “You look like shit.”

“I feel like shit, so good-” Sharp inhale for breath, let it out- “-To know that I’m all on the same page.”

She dropped down on the bed with a metallic creak. “What’d the kid do now?”

“It feels like they’re biting me again, but w-worse- fuck!” Another nip, this one dragging a line on the inside of the womb like they were drift racing in there. Wait, dragging? He swallowed down more coppery bile. “Okay, fine, fine, sheesh, I’ll fuckin’ eat something, happy you little shithead?”

Loona raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t say anything.”

Blitzo shoved himself up off the bed to wobbly knees. “Junior’s gotten real bold, and instead of just sucking up the meat I’m eating for them like a good little lump, they decided to put me on the menu- ow, fuck, I’m going, keep your baby-tits on!”

“Babies don’t have tits, Blitzo.”

“They do if I say they do, sweetie.” Blitzo ruffled Loona’s fur between her ears as he waddled across the room, pausing next to the TV to take a breath.

Loona raised an eyebrow. “Do you need me to bring you something? I don’t want you passing out in the middle of the apartment and tripping over you tomorrow morning.”  In response, Blitzo just waved a dismissive hand.

“I can handle walking across two rooms, Loonie.” The active chewing had paused for the moment, but whatever they’d shredded in there was still shredded, and he’d rather not make it any worse- he had work tomorrow, dammit.

The fridge bathed him in a sickly, hospital-like glow as he tugged it open, and drool immediately started leaking from his mouth as the smells of half-forgotten, time-ripened leftovers hit him. A small mouse with four red eyes leaped up from the floor when he opened the door, burrowing into a box of takeout on the bottom shelf that Loona must have gotten when he’d been at Stolas’s place. His tongue snapped out automatically, snatching its furry body up and slurping up the tail between his lips before swallowing, and it took a second for his brain to load enough to register- after it slid down his throat.

Holy shit, did he just…? It squirmed a little as it descended, little hairs stuck in his teeth, and his fingers tightened on the side of his stomach before he reached for the box it had been after to wash out the aftertaste.

Everything after that was a bit of a blur, although he did retain enough sense of mind to avoid the six-pack of cheap beer in the back that still had four cans on it. Better to not risk puking all of this up or ruining the kid any more than they already were. Carbs, meat, a few wilted veggies that Moxxie had pawned off on him, sweet, sour, cold chili and whole untoasted bagels- it didn’t really matter what it was as long as it was at least mostly edible (he was pretty sure he swallowed a wrapper at some point), he just needed it inside of him now. Smothering everything in hot sauce and salsa and mustard made it more palatable anyway, especially the ice cream. The kid didn’t start taking chunks out of him again, at least, so he must have been doing something right. More and more of the white fridge walls became visible as the floor around him littered with containers, and his stomach grew tighter before he finally slumped back against the nearby counter with a groan. His legs sprawled out on the cool tile, both hands now stained with a mixture of about five kinds of leftovers, and he cradled his stomach after muffling a burp.

“Are you happy now, you needy little shit?”

Blitzo didn’t really expect a reply and almost didn’t hear it over the churning gurgles of digestion, but a soft ‘eee’ of a hoot, more a whisper-screech than anything, murmured from his midsection. He stared down at it, the warmth of his full stomach counteracted by ice dripping down his back.

“Oh, of course you sound just like him.” His claws dragged along the sensitive, itchy-while-stretched skin before the protection spell sprung up and pushed the fingers away. It only let him touch his own stupid body when he laid his palm flat. “Sure, it’s cute now when it's all little and squeaky, but you’d better not be as entitled as he is, alright? Or as you are now, since I’ve gotta do everything for you until you’re born. Considering you just settled right down in there without even asking in the first place, I doubt it. Rude.”

There were no more noises other than his stomach grumbling about going from empty to full so quickly, and he stayed slumped against the cabinet for long enough to let some of it digest. He must have been more tired than he thought, because he swore that he already looked bigger than he’d been when he’d finished binging. Maybe it started swelling in a bad reaction from whatever fucked-up food cocktail he'd accidentally made.

When he didn’t feel quite so much like a boulder had gotten stuffed inside his guts, it took three tries to haul his ass off the tile and drag himself back to bed, huffing like a cop running for the last doughnut in the process.

The ice had crept from his spine to the rest of his bones and muscles as he tugged the blanket tight around himself, but at least the churning food kept his stomach warm, and he passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

[highwaydiamonds]

Um. Excuse me. You had cancer??

Yeah... I mean I guess I really haven't discussed it much on tumblr. I have a little bit, but only in vague ways, or rarely made veiled references in tags.

SO, get a drink, get a snack, because this is a bit of a saga, and you already know I am longwinded at the best of times. I'm going to do like Vizzini said, and go back to the beginning. I hope you're ok I'm making this public Shells, it seems easier to? And I'll put this behind a cut because I really do wax on ( and on).

It's the end of August 2018 and i appear to have gotten some kind cold/respiratory infection. I'm at work the first day of it and it feels like a cold. No big deal. (Also this is all pre-COVID so no I didn't have COVID). The next day I feel really awful, so I call off work, and figure all I need to do is rest and I'll be ok. Turns out, NOPE. The next day I feel worse- now I can tell I have a bit of a fever, my appetite was basically, " eat one baby carrot and my appetite is exhausted." Finally, I get to the point that I am having trouble lying down - as in I am becoming short of breath when I try to lie flat (sorry if I am using the wrong word - lay/lie was always a grammar issue that eluded me.) So, I decide, ok, i will be sensible girl and go get medical attention. But I am stubborn and feel the ER is overreacting, so I go to urgent care. i park in the front row of urgent car parking, but by the time I reach the intake desk I have to put my head down because I am so winded and a bit lightheaded.

They take one look at me and tell me, point blank, "we're getting a squad for you to take you to the ER." I say, " what? no, I don't need that, this is not that big a deal." They counter, " you could barely walk in the door and you you are having significant trouble breathing. We don't have the ability to see you here." So, for the first time in my life I have to go via ambulance from urgent care to a free standing ER.

I get to the ER - where they decide, OK, lady, you're a mess. Let's get some chest x-rays and we're gonna slap some IV fluids and I can't even recall if they immediately put me on IV antibiotics or not. But after two hours there they informed me, " hey.... So, we think you need to go to the hospital-hospital not the freestanding ER." I tell them well you better hand me my laptop ( I'm that bitch who takes the laptop with her juuuuust in case I am stuck in the hospital. you never know.) Because i am not going to a hospital until I figure out if they're in my health plan. I do so and then for the second time in my life, all in one night because sometimes I am an over achiever i guess, I go via ambulance to the hospital.

They admitted me and over the next few/couple/ hours ( it was hard to tell) I progressively felt worse. I had trouble breathing if I didn't sit absolutely straight up, and at that point I hadn't gotten good sleep for around 60 hours or so. Me being me I started to get teary and panicky, because I was so tired and wasn't sure what to do. I called for the nurse and she came in and then within the next half hour your girl got taken down to the ICU. By the time we arrived down in the ICU I was really getting panicky. My mom died in the ICU ( different hospital but still) and I knew the fact they took me down there was no laughing matter. I started to think about, " ok is this what death is like? this isn't what i thought it was going to be - this is panicky and scary and not all white lights and peace."

The next thing I knew - it was two days later, and I woke up intubated. Did you know that you can be conscious and intubated? I did not. I'll speed things up a bit here. I spent a total of 8 days in the ICU - I had one hell of a case of pneumonia, and there were a couple of other diagnoses thrown in ( nope, not cancer. promise, we will get there.) . The nurses I had were AMAZING. I was intubated for about 6 of those 8 days. Then I got weaned off of it. Funniest moment on the ventilator: Physical therapist comes around and says, " Hey let's get you up and walking, you think you can?" I nodded and shrugged my shoulders to try and communicate, " sure, ok!" It went totally fine, but there were nursing students, residents, other doctors and who knows who else looking out of rooms and over desks at the two of us just y'know... *walking down the hall*. I gestured to the people because it was just flipping weird. I had an audience at the exact time NOBODY wants an audience and it confused the hell out of me. PT advised me, " there aren't too many times ventilated patients are ambulatory. You're a bit of a curiosity so people want to see."

Once I got out of the ICU and was put back on a regular floor, I got to meet with other doctors re those other diagnoses I mentioned ( chronic things I just have to manage) I also mentioned that it had been a really long time since I had been to a GYN and as had been noted in the ICU I spotted quite frequently ( I have never, ever in my life been regular period-wise and it just got weirder over time, but I just didn't really consider it. So I asked while they were setting me up with new practitioners ( my previous doctor had retired) too please set me top with a gynecologist.

So I'm out of the hospital by September 10th, 2018. The gyro appointment occurs i want to say by mid- to late September. I go in and meet her and she's lovely. While I'm up on the table she says, " hey let's do all the things and get a uterine biopsy!" I say, " excellent, do the things!" We agree it's likely going to be nothing but hey we're smart people and we will play it safe. Huzzah Gyno visit accomplished! (if I were a gamer I'd make some kind of ladybits achievement unlocked now, but I'm not a gamer.)

Two or so weeks go by - or however long it takes to get those test results back (some of these spans are lost in the mists of time). Dr Boyle calls me and apologizes that the test results that she was sure would be nothing... they are not nothing. Turns out, it's endometrial cancer.

At that point you could have knocked me over with a feather. Shells, I wanted my mom to be there so badly, I can't even express it. She would have understood how I felt - she'd been there with her breast cancer. But at the same time, I was glad she wasn't there? I remember how heartsick my mom was to tell Grandmommy when Mom got cancer. I didn't want my mom to have to hear that news, to worry about that. Dr Boyle advised me that she would be referring me to a good oncologist and i should hear from them in a week or two.

Thus began MRIS and PET scans and ultrasounds, and blood work etc. The oncologist diagnosed that he figured I might be stage three, but it depended on my lymph involvement. It brought back memories of when Mom was diagnosed and when she told me she was stage three. I asked my Dad later, "what does that mean?" He told me, " there are only four stages, so what do you think?" This time around I knew what it meant. So, we put me down for surgery November 9th, 2018. That's two days before my birthday - so I joked that I was getting my cancer out for my birthday - hooray! My best friend actually flew in from texas for my surgery ( my best friend is a SAINT, and I love her more than pearls and rubies.)

Best surgery story from this experience: For my total hysterectomy (uterus and ovaries go sayonara and then also two signal lymph nodes in the chain of nodes on either side of the pelvis to se if there is any lymph complication.) I had to be tilted back - so with my head down to move as many organs away from the uterus etc during the laparoscopic procedure. I knew this going in, However, when I woke up back in my hospital room I looked at Bestie and said, " I hurt in places I didn't expect to hurt. Oh wait. My shoulders hurt because they're not used to being weight bearing, but the procedure was laproscopic - so why the heck does my vagina hurt?" Bestie in one of her best moments ever says, " I know why." I replied, " wait, YOU know why MY vagina hurts?!" She said, " yep. So your surgery was supposed to take 3-3.5 hours ended up taking 5 hours instead. Your uterus was really big. The oncologist told us they need up having to cut it in half to pull it out of you." bestie admitted she joked with the oncologist that it was like I had just birthed a baby, he looked back at her (NOT laughing) and said, " yes, that's basically what she did." I laughed so much at that ( i mean i was also well medicated, but still) I told Bestie, " I had a Uterus! Let's call it George!" ( In retrospect I am disappointed in myself that I misgendered my own uterus, I should have called it Georgina.)

So, after healing from the surgery, by about January of 2019 I started two courses (each with a few rounds) of chemo. First came what the doctors and I called "low-pro" chemo - that we did along with radiation. Honestly, though i was making a heck of a lot more bathroom trips, you wouldn't have generally known I was sick. Most of my coworkers had no idea. I just was a bit more tired than usual. After the low pro rounds - then we moved to the bigger guns. Radiation was done but I moved to more significant chemo drugs, This wasn't because things were bad - this was the plan all along :) But I knew the "high-pro" chemo was going to make me lose my hair. THAT was a psychic struggle. I cried so much knowing that was going to happen. I got hats and caps and I even got a very nice wig. I mean, I planned as much as a girl can plan when she hears that news. I even preemptively cut my long hair. It was about half way down my back at that point. So I went in and asked the stylist please braid it and put it in between two hair ties - and then cut it - so i could keep my braid. I couldn't do locks of love anyway as it was colored, and I know it's selfish, but I wanted my hair. So, the hair went from half down my back to a face framing bob. then I just waited. And then in a few weeks it happened. I could put my hands through my hair and easily, painlessly pull it out. I am not a cute bald girl. That's when people KNOW you have something going on.

I was very lucky though, there ended up NOT being lymph involvement, and even the high pro chemo didn't make me nauseous or lose appetite. I did have HORRIBLE bone pain usually the first week after chemo ( i'd get it every three weeks). I learned a hell of a lot from that. I also was able to get some meds to help alleviate it a bit, and I took time from work when the pain was at its worst. But I have never experienced pain like that - where no matter what I did - no position changes helped. Even ice packs or heat pads didn't help or do much. It was just a waiting game, a painful waiting game. Oh also - I learned that IV benadryl is nothing like oral benadryl. IV benadryl is like walking right into a brick wall made of sleep. That stuff knocked me the hell out right quick - amazing.

Right before COVID started and the world shut down I got the flu because my immune system was in the toilet- and so I spent another week in the hospital and except for the bone pain that comes with chemo, you know what is worse than chemo injections? POTASSIUM injections. Among other things, my potassium levels were low and so I got those injections with other meds. Those suckers HURT. they BURN, and so i spent a week in the hospital only to eventually come out and find out the world was starting to shut down from COVID. Not my job at that point, but my oncologist told me, " GO HOME - YOU KNOW YOU ARE IMMUNO COMPROMISED - DON'T STAY AT WORK." So, I went home until about a month after I finished chemo.

Since finishing chemo it's been about scans, which have gone ok so far... I'm not willing to talk about the R word. I just think I'll have to be careful the rest of my life - My mom always said, "once you've gotten cancer, you always have cancer." So, maybe it's the anxiety talking, but it's kind of like waiting for the other cancer shoe to drop. In the mean time though, it's business as usual - try to find good stuff in the midst of the hot mess. Cancer has been a crisis but not a reason to lose my sense of humor. I've needed it more than ever :)

So, sorry for the SERIOUSLY LONG ASS answer, but sometimes it's just better to lay it bare. I'm not ashamed of this stuff. It's been a lot. It's been a journey... It still is... it's part of the rest of my journey, which i hope isn't over by a long shot yet. I don't believe things happen for reasons - the world is WAY too absurd for that in my opinion, BUT good gravy have i been able to learn so much from this whole three ring circus. I'm not grateful for cancer, but I am grateful for the lessons.

Thanks for checking in, Shells. You're a complete sweetheart.

[captainlilyuniverseworld]

Son of A B****

Title: Son of Bitch Square Filled: Omega!Sam Ship (if any): Sam/Dean, Omega!Sam/Alpha!Dean Rating: T Tags: Omega!Sam, ABO, Mpreg, Backgound ABO Summary: Sam goes to see the doctor thinking there might be something wrong or that he’s too stressed, Dean thinks Sam’s just starting omegapause, turns out they’re both wrong Word Count: 2201 Written/Created for @spnaubingo

Son of A Bitch

“I’m sure you’re worried for nothing,” Dean said. “Just stressing yourself out.” 

“But it could be something,” Sam replied. “I’d rather just talk to the doctor and see what’s going on.” 

“Could be omegapause,” Dean mused. 

“…Are you saying I’m old?” Sam asked. “I’m not even 40 yet.” 

“Okay, pre-omegapause,” Dean added. 

Sam rolled his eyes. “Saying that isn’t actually making me feel better, Dean. If anything it’s making me think about morality and wills and burial plots.” 

“But you’re not thinking about what could be stressing you out,” Dean pointed out. “You’re welcome.” 

Sam snorted. “The way your mind works will never cease to amaze me.” 

“Sam Winchester?” 

He looked up at the sound of his name and saw a nurse standing in the doorway of the waiting room. 

“I gotta go, I’ll see you at home alright?” Sam added. 

“Everything will be okay Sam. And whatever it is, which is nothing, we will face it together. Like we always do,” Dean told him. 

Sam smiled a bit. “I know…Love you.” 

“Love you too.” 

Sam hung up as he stood and walked over to the nurse. “Right this way Sam. Since this is your first time seeing Dr. Sterns we have to do a couple routine tests for your file and then she’ll come in when we’re finished alright?” 

He nodded and went through the tests. He made a mental note to see about getting Dean to the doctor at some point. They were both pretty healthy, but it never hurt to have a doctor sign off on it. 

“Alright, I’ll take these samples to the lab and Dr. Sterns will be in a few minutes,” the nurse told Sam before stepping out. 

He leaned back in one of the chairs and tried not to let on how nervous he felt. He sat up straighter as the door opened and a young woman stepped into the room. 

“Sam Winchester? I’m doctor Sterns,” she smiled and offered her hand. “How are we doing today?” 

“Just trying to remember the last time I was in a doctor’s office,” he chuckled as they shook hands. “Moved around a lot for most of my life, so I’m more used to the whole free clinic, and urgent care types.” 

“Move around a lot for work?” she asked. 

“Something like that,” Sam answered. 

“Well, everything looks good, our labs are not too busy today so we should get those lab results back by the time we’re finished. I see you are a new patient with us, and you had a few concerns that prompted you coming in today. Why don’t we talk about those,” she said. 

“Right, uh it might be nothing, and it could just be me stressing out over nothing, I’ve been having trouble sleepy lately, and I’ve noticed that sometimes I get night sweats. I’ve also been getting headaches a lot more, haven’t been in the mood for sex much lately, my mate told me to mention that one, I’ve had some cramping on and off as well and some weight gain…I went online, and from what I’ve been seeing I guess I might going into pre-omegapause?” he explained. 

“If only all my patients were as thorough as you,” Dr. Sterns chuckled. “Some of the symptoms you describe can coincide with pre-omegapause. I see here you’re going to be thirty six soon, and it isn’t uncommon to start getting symptoms in one’s late thirties. However, what you’ve told me could also indicate pregnancy.” 

“Pregnancy?” Sam blinked surprised. 

That thought hadn’t crossed his mind. 

“You mentioned that you haven’t had your heat in a few months? When was your last heat?” she asked. 

“Mid May,” Sam answered. “And it didn’t last as long as it normally did. Usually it’s a week long this time it is a couple days. Three I think.” 

She nodded and wrote something notes down. “If you don’t mind me asking, why is it your first thought was pre-omegapause and not pregnancy?” 

“Well…if it was going to happen for me, shouldn’t it have happened by now?” Sam asked. “I mean…I’ve been with my mate practically all my life, and we’ve always shared my heat together, when I was younger I used to take birth control, but as I got older I started having bad reactions to it so I stopped, and there are times when we’ve forgotten protection, we just kinda assumed kids were just not in the picture for us.” 

“Have either of you been tested to know for certain?” She asked. 

“We were never in one place long enough to really think about it,” Sam admitted. He ran a hand through his hair. “But…you’re saying there’s a chance I could be pregnant?” 

“There is a chance yes,” she nodded. “The blood sample will give us a more definitive answer.” Her computer chimed and she turned to look at it. “Which, it looks like we’ve got the results.” 

“I haven’t been this nervous since I applied to Stanford,” Sam smiled a bit. 

“Alright, let’s see here. cholesterol looks good, negative for any STDs or infections which is good, and the HCG levels in your blood are on the higher side, you are pregnant Sam,” she smiled at him. 

“Really?” Sam asked. 

She turned the screen so he could see. “Normal HCG levels tend to be around here, but when you’re pregnant they’ll be around here, and get higher the further along in your pregnancy. In some cases, very high HCG levels could indicate twins or even triplets. Given your age, it wouldn’t be impossible for you to have fraternal twins.  Your hormone levels are a bit on the low side which could be playing a part in why you haven’t been feeling any nausea or morning sickness. That could spike the further along you get.” 

“Son of a bitch,” Sam sat back in the chair. “Sorry,” he blushed embarrassed. “I don’t mean to swear it’s just…the fact that I might be pregnant never even crossed my mind and then to find out I am, and that I could have twins…it’s a lot.” 

“Would you like to do an ultrasound?” She asked. “See what they look like? And it’ll tell us how far along you are.” 

“Uh yeah, sure,” Sam nodded. 

He got up and laid down on the exam table and unbuttoned his shirt while she wheeled over the machine. He shivered when the gel made contact with his stomach and watched the screen. 

“And there is your baby,” she turned the screen so he could see better and pointed. “Judging by the size, you’re just about shy two months, which means, you conceived during your last heat, which explains why it was so short. Generally once pregnancy takes, the heat is finished.” 

“Wow…They’re so small,” Sam was in awe. 

“Let me print you off a couple of pictures, and I’ll write down a list of prenatal vitamins for you,” she told him. 

She gave him some tissues to clean off his stomach and he sat up to wait for her. 

An hour had him pulling down the driveway to their house. After almost two years it was still weird to know they had a house to call home. A permanent home. He pulled his car in next to the Impala and grabbed the grocery bag off the seat and locked the doors before making his way to the house. 

“Dean?” He called as he stepped inside. “Hey boy,” he knelt down to receive a few kisses from their dog Zeppelin and Sam’s still not sure how Dean won that one one. “Where’s Dean huh? Where’s he at?” 

Zeppelin barked and ran over to the sliding glass doors that led to the back porch. Sam took the pie he picked up from the grocery store out of the bag and set it in the fridge. He was pleased to see the writing on it hadn’t smeared on the drive home. He hid a few beers and soda’s in front of it. And maybe that should have been the tip off. He can’t remember the last time he had an actual drink, as he’d been drinking soda and water a lot more. 

“Hey,” Sam stepped onto the back porch. 

“Hey,” Dean smiled. “How’d it go?” 

“Good, it was uh, it was good,” Sam answered. 

“See? I told you you had nothing to worry about,” Dean turned his attention back to the grill. “Figured I’d make kabobs for dinner. I even made sure to do a healthy amount of meat and veggies so you won’t complain this time.” 

“I don’t think meat on a stick by itself really counts as a kabob Dean,” Sam pointed out as he walked over. 

Dean wrapped his arm around him as he turned the kabobs over and leaned up to kiss his temple. “Well lucky for me, pretty much the whole world agrees that meat on a stick by itself does count.” 

Sam snorted and reached for a pepper. “I’ll go set the table. We eating inside or outside?” 

“Outside, the weather’s nice,” Dean answered. “Grab me a beer too would you?” 

Sam went back into the house and grabbed the plates from the cabinet and drinks for them. He stopped in the doorway when he saw Dean putting the kabobs on a plate, and tossing a few pieces of chicken to Zeppelin. 

He could already picture Dean standing at the same grill with their little boy or girl. Talking them through the intricacies of perfect grilling. Sneaking extra food to Zeppelin when Sam wasn’t looking. 

“I know you’re there Sam,” Dean said without looking over his shoulder. 

“He’s gonna get fat if you keep sneaking him food like that,” Sam said as he set the plates on the table. 

“He’ll be fine. Ain’t that right Zep?” Dean tossed the dog another piece before he turned off the grill and joined Sam at the table with a plate of kabobs. 

“I’ve never seen so many vegetables on your plate before,” Sam teased. “And such variety.” 

“At least I’m not getting a little paunch unlike someone,” Dean mused as he picked up his beer. 

My paunch is our baby, Sam was tempted to say, it was weird to think it but it made him feel warm inside. He knew deep down Dean had always wanted a family, and Sam had always felt a little disappointed with himself that he hadn’t been able to give that to Dean despite his claims that all he needed was Sam. But now he was pregnant, and as much as he wanted to tell Dean, he didn’t want to ruin the surprise, so instead he just kicked Dean under the table. 

“Ow,” Dean reached down to rub his ankle. “Mean.” 

They finished eating in mostly silence, comfortable silence that came from years of living in each other’s pockets and Sam pushed his plate away once he was done. He covered his mouth as he burped. 

“Excuse me,” he blushed. 

“I will take that as a compliment,” Dean grinned. 

“I picked up some pie on my way home,” Sam told him. “I put it in the fridge.” 

“Is it apple? I hope it’s apple,” Dean said as he stood up. “You want a slice?” 

“I’ll pass,” Sam answered. “But I’ll take a root beer on your way back.” 

“Must be some good news you got at the doctors. You’ve been smelling all good since you got home, and you picked up pie? If it weren’t the anti-possession tattoos I’d think you were possessed by a demon or something…Which reminds…me…” Dean’s voice trailed off. 

“Dean?” Sam leaned back to try and peer into the house. 

He stood up and walked into the house and found Dean in the kitchen. He was standing front of the fridge holding the door open. He was looking down at the pie in the fridge. Sam had asked the bakery clerk to write We’re pregnant on top of the pie in frosting. 

“Turns out it wasn’t pre-omegapause, or omegapause or stress…I’m uh. I’m pregnant Dean,” Sam told him. “We’re gonna have a baby.” 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean said. 

“Yeah…my thoughts too when I found out,” Sam chuckled. 

“But what about…and all those times,” Dean said as he looked at Sam. 

“Stress…it can decrease infertility and the chances of conceiving,” Sam replied. “The last decade and a half has probably been a little stressful what with hunting monsters and trying to keep the world from imploding…you know, just normal everyday stressful things.” 

Dean laughed a little. “Yeah, totally normal stressful things…fuck, Sam this is…” 

“Good?” Sam asked hopefully. 

“More than good Sammy,” Dean answered. He set the pie down on the counter and walked over to Sam. His fingers brushed their bond mark as he pulled him down into a kiss and Sam melted into it. 

“This is amazing,” Dean said as he pulled away. “You’re gonna get so fat.”

Sam snorted and shoved his mate. “Screw you.” 

Dean just grinned at him. “I mean consider screwing is what led us here…” 

“Oh my god, just eat your pie,” Sam laughed.

[bi-rising]

hey I just saw your post about PCOS being a hormonal issue not a gyno one while I was surfing the tag. I was diagnosed a couple months back and all my gyno did was a 2 min ultrasound and then prescribed me birth control. I would like to have actual help and more info on it but I'm not sure who I'm supposed to go to for that. Seeing as you were in a similar situation I'd appreciate your help.

seems like gynos really suck with pcos, don't they? 🥴 warning you now, this is going to be a very long post, because i'm essentially writing out absolutely everything i did and everything i've learned, so strap in for a ride aldksfjasldf

the first thing to do is research, research, research. i spent a whole week constantly on pcos websites (such as pcosaa and this article, tho fair warning, the article does use academic speech so it might not be the easiest thing to read) and watching videos and doing what i could to inform myself. the way you can know if you're looking at a credible resource is how the source defines pcos: does it pose it as a reproductive system disorder? or an endocrine (hormonal) disorder? if it talks about it as a reproductive system disorder, then it's probably wrong.

please note that i am not, obviously, a medical professional, but this is how i understand pcos works. i'll use me as an example just so i can use first person perspective, but it applies to pcos patients in general.

so, my cells are insulin resistant. that means that when i eat, my body releases, lets say, 100 (x measurement) of insulin. because my cells are insulin resistant, they say "hey, i'm only gonna use 50x of that insulin". but they still NEED that 100x to function. so my body releases ANOTHER 100x of insulin, so my cells go "ok i'll take 50x" and so while my cells now have the 100x they're supposed, to i now have 100x insulin floating around.

that extra insulin not only wreaks havoc on many systems of the body, it is the reason why most people with pcos that goes untreated end up with type 2 diabetes. the extra insulin is also converted (or spurs the creation of? i'm not entirely certain on the how here) into testosterone and other androgen (male) hormones. so your body has too much insulin, and now it has too much testosterone, too. that extra testosterone is what fucks with your reproductive system and prevents the follicles on your ovaries from maturing (which is what the 'cysts' are). it also often creates increased facial hair, acne (especially on the 'beard line'), and worse body odor. between the testosterone and the insulin, it's nigh impossible to lose weight.

also note that because your body has to release more insulin for your cells to get an adequate amount, you likely crave carbs and sugars (salty/crunchy things and sweets), and you're likely frequently fatigued, bc your body isn't, well, working correctly and it's taking more energy to perform basic functions.

secondly, take all this information that you know to your doctor. i legitimately wrote down some notes about this process in a little notebook and took it with me so that i wouldn't forget/get too anxious to bring any of it up. i also wrote down the things i had been doing to help up to that point (working out, what my diet was, etc etc) and what i was concerned about. lastly, i also wrote down what medications and supplements i had heard of in my research to see what my doctor thought of them.

my doctor's first 'attack' choice is ozempic--it's a weekly shot that helps to regulate insulin levels and also is pretty good at helping weight loss. be aware though that most commercial insurances don't pay for this, but if your doctor is good, they'll try to work around that so that you're not paying a frankly outrageous amount for it. also look out for sometime this fall, my doc said that the ozempic manufacturers are trying to get ozempic approved for weight loss (it's approved for other things) and that should help bring the price down?? anyway, that's my doc's preferred method, but because of my finances, we currently can't do that.

his second attack, which i'm now on, is metformin. it's a medication mostly used for diabetics that helps with blood sugar levels which, again, is that insulin issue. my mom has been on it for 14 years bc diabetes runs in our family anyway, so it's perfectly safe for long time use and definitely helps with keeping either away from or within the pre-diabetes phase. again, i've only been on it now two days so i can't say anything for me but we'll see how it goes lmao

he also approved of me using omega 3 (fish pills) supplements because they help balance things out in general, not just pcos, and he was good with me using spearmint, too. i'm starting out on one cup of spearmint tea a day and see how that effects me, but i've heard of people having up to two spearmint supplement pills and a cup of spearmint tea a day, too. spearmint is a 'defense', as far as i can explain it: it has (tho limited) research that it lowers the testosterone levels in women with pcos. so while it doesn't help with the insulin so it doesn't attack the source, it can help with the testosterone aspect, aka facial hair, acne, etc. i've also heard of cinnamon supplements and inositol supplements helping, but i didn't get a chance to ask about either of those from my doctor, so make sure if you want to give those a try, you talk about them and make sure they won't interfere with any of your other medications and get your doctor's approval on them, first.

thirdly, ask about what else you can do to help yourself. my doctor stressed the importance of a proper night's sleep, as well as advised to try to cut back on carbs and sugars (IMPORTANT NOTE: some people claim that you HAVE to be on a keto diet to get results with pcos. WRONG. please don't do this. keto diets are entirely unsustainable. and cutting back on carbs and sugars does not mean cutting them OUT, it just means if you want a snack, try reaching for a protein or a vegetable instead of a carb. but don't limit yourself!! please, be conscious about what you eat, and remember that sometimes yeah, a slice of cake or a serving of chips isn't going to kill you or set your pcos back. don't risk getting an e.d. just for the sake of your pcos). he also told me that the best exercise that i personally should do is either HIIT exercises or cardio, and to do at least an hour a day, even if it's 30 mins in the morning, 30 in the evening--and to work up to that so even doing ten minutes a day, then increasing it from there, is healthier and better than jumping straight into a whole ass hour. he also told me to aim for a certain heartrate. i don't remember the formula he used, but for me at 22 (based on age) he wanted me to try to aim for 150-160 bpm. again, especially with exercise, that was what he recommended for me. you're likely different from me, so ask your doctor and see what he says.

fourthly, and perhaps most importantly, DON'T BOTHER WITH A GYNO. all of this that i've gotten done for me was from my family doctor, so just the guy i go to for yearly check ups. see if you can do some routine blood work to give him (or her) as wide of a picture as possible, and then go in and talk with a regular doctor about this. a friend of mine also has a friend who actually goes to an endocrinologist to get her pcos sorted out, so that's also an option. gynos seem to just treat the symptoms; birth control gives you a regular period by helping with your estrogen, but that doesn't decrease your testosterone OR do anything with the insulin. my doc is keeping me on birth control pills just so that i have a regular cycle so we can watch and see if anything else happens to it, so it's okay to stay on the birth control, but ultimately, birth control pills don't do anything for pcos.

i know it's difficult and probably kinda scary/anxiety inducing if you're younger or just have anxiety, but you've gotta advocate for yourself in this case. you have to show the doctor that you know what you're talking about and that you're able to call him out on his bullshit if he doesn't take you seriously. also, if your doctor is helpful, don't be afraid to be frank with him about what your gyno did. like i've said with my experience, i got the validation of knowing that my gyno was wrong by explaining to my doctor how he treated me. you deserve better than what your gyno did, and you deserve to actually be treated as a person and your disorder be taken seriously.

i'm wishing you the best of luck, and i hope that you'll be able to get the help that you need 💕💕💕

[prettyinlimegreenboots]

I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.”

I’ve been watching a lot of “Code Black” and “ER” so I decided to put our favorites in as Medical Professionals. Normally, family isn’t allowed to treat other family members but just pretend that doesn’t exist. There are cuss words in this one. 

December 18, 2019 8:30AM

It was a normal shift, well as normal as the emergency room could be. There had been no major shootings or stabbings though the day was still young, he thought as he sat at the nurse’s station filling out paperwork. 

“Why did I choose to go into Emergency Medicine again?” A chart was thrown on the desk as Katherine “Plums” Plumber, PA slumped over looking at Spot. “I just diagnosed my fifth case of the flu. This should be for the general practice peeps, not me.” 

Spot grinned at his favorite colleague. “I’m sorry princess, but you’re drawing alllllll the short straws tonight.” 

“Damn you Conlon - if I find out you’re the one assigning me cases, as head nurse, it’ll be your head. Next one I get I’m requesting you to join me!” She pointed at him as the bay doors were thrown open and a stretcher was pushed through. She grabbed her stethoscope and pointed to him. “Guess I spoke too soon. You’re with me. What do we have?”

“A 29 year old male who is complaining about severe back pains. Pain level is between 6-7. Blood in urine.” The EMT announced as they wheeled him in, screaming about drugs. 

Spot followed along already prepping an IV line and anticipating any directions Plums would throw his way. The two worked in tandem as additional nurses and orderlies made their way to the bay. 

Within minutes, they had diagnosed him with kidney stones and sent him for an ultrasound to see what the prognosis would be. Making his way back to the nurse’s desk, he threw his gloves in the trash and sighed as he sunk into a chair. He relaxed as he listened to the soothing sounds of the ER; it truly was his home away from home. 

“What are your plans for when you leave this place?” He looked up and grinned at Albert, who had his own chart and running his hand through his hair, messing it up. 

Looking at the clock on the wall, he groaned seeing he had another 2 hours. “Sleeping. Race will be home around 4 so I’m hoping I can get a good nap before he gets home. You?” 

“Surprising Finch with dinner tonight.” Albert grinned. 

Spot studied him for a minute before his hand slammed the desk. “You’re proposing tonight aren’t you?” 

“Why dontcha tell the whole department, Conlon?” Albert dragged out as Plums slid over in her chair. 

“He’ll say yes, Albert. You don’t have to worry.” Plums grinned. “He’s been dropping hints for the last four months.” 

Albert smiled. “Thanks Plums. At least someone knows what to say.” 

“Hey now! I gave you all my advice two months ago when you bought the ring.” Spot scrawled his signature across the paper looking between his two friends. “Besides I haven’t told Racer anything and that’s a damn miracle for sure.”

Albert chuckled at his best friend's antics. “Does he suspect anything?” 

“Nope and he won’t.” Spot said as the doors were thrown open with the sight he didn’t want to see. 

“Plums.” He called her name as he pushed off the desk, rolling his chair backwards and onto his feet running to the doors before anyone could comprehend what was going on. He heard feet behind him as he grabbed a stretcher and rolled it towards the door. 

“What the hell happened?” Spot asked, looking between the two males, one of which had blood running down his face. 

“Your fiancé is an idiot.” Jack Kelly looked between Spot and his wife. 

Between Jack and Spot, they heaved him onto the stretcher before wheeling him back to the bay. “What happened?” 

“He has first period planning as do I so he came down to the shop. The next thing I see his head is bleeding and his arm is weird.” Jack said looking between Kat and Spot. 

“Albert, take Jack out to the waiting room.” Kat said, giving her husband a look as Spot started mopping up the blood on Race’s head. Kat was busy checking on a concussion and his injured arm. 

Kat looked up and sighed. “He needs stitches and a possible cast. Spot, you okay doing that?” 

Shaking his head, he looked at her. “I’m not steady. Get Romeo to do it. I'll start his IV.” 

She nodded, calling Romeo to start the stitches as he focused on inserting the IV. At that time, Race started to come around. “Where am I? Don’t infect me with anything …. My fiancé’s a nurse.” 

“Hey, hey Race. You’re in the ER, Jack brought you in. Do you remember what happened?” Spot asked, leaning close to him. 

“Spottie? No what happened?” Race cracked an eye open, squinting at the brightness. “I hurt, Spot.”

Lacing his fingers with Race’s he squeezed them. “What hurts, Race?” 

“My head and my arm.” He groaned. “It’s fuzzy, Spottie.” 

He looked up at Kat before looking at Race. “What’s fuzzy, Race?”

“Your face.” Race said, closing his eyes. 

Kat put a smile on her face as she leaned over Race. “Hey Race, can you open your eyes for me?” 

He cracked them open with a slight grin. “Lucky me, I got the dream team.” 

“You did.” She smiled. “How many fingers am I holding up?” 

“Three.” He rolled his eyes, his non-injured hand flying up to cradle his head. “Ow Ow ow …. that was dumb, make it stop.” 

Spot bit his lip to keep from laughing. “Make what stop?” 

“Spinning of the room.” Race shut his eyes tightly, willing it to stop. 

Uncapping the IV, Spot pushed the syringe that Kat had handed him full of pain medicine. “There, you should be okay in a few minutes. Can you open your eyes for me and Plums? We have a few questions for you.” 

He sighed, cracking open an eye. “Alright, hit me with these questions.” 

“What year is it?” Kat asked, flashing her penlight in his eyes, watching them slowly dilate. 

“2019, unless I was knocked out longer than that.”

Race chuckled. 

Shaking her head, she smiled. “Nope, you’re good. When’s your wedding date?” 

“January 17, 2020.” 

“What’s your dog’s name?” 

“Uhh … Sassie.” 

Kat looked over at Spot giving him a look. “I’m going to diagnose him with a mild concussion. I want him up in radiology getting a look at that hand. We’ll brace it here but he may need a steadier cast. Spot, wanna take him while I go talk to Jack?” 

She had him a chart and left the room. Removing his gloves, he gave a look at his husband. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like I’m floating. Is that normal?” Race asked, as Romeo smoothed a white bandage on his head. Spot smiled in appreciation. 

“Yea but you’ll be okay. We’re going to get you upstairs for a X-Ray.” Spot patting his shoulder, reaching for the phone to call an orderly to move Race. He braced his arm and stood back when a man came to move the bed. “We’re heading to Radiology, Specs.” 

Race gave his fiancé a look. “Is radiology really necessary? My arm is fine.” 

“Uh huh. You heard Kat, we’re gonna go get it looked at.” Spot walked beside the gurney as they got in the elevator. “You don’t have a choice in the matter.” 

Race pouted. “But Spottie, I’m fine.” 

Specs snorted hearing Race call Spot his nickname. “Racetrack, stop while you’re ahead.” 

He sighed, closing his eyes feeling the gurney move from the elevator. Specs parked the gurney across from radiology as Spot quickly thanked him. “I’m going to see where you are in line. I’ll be right back.” 

Race hummed before Spot disappeared into the adjacent room. Luckily, radiology was empty and they were able to take Race right away. 

“Told ya I’m fine, Spot. Quit worrying.” Race said as they moved him back to the gurney as the tech looked at the x-rays. 

“Actually Mr Higgins, you have a fracture on your ulna, which is probably going to require a cast.” The Radiographer, named Blink, gave Spot a look. 

Blink held up the x-ray that had a circle around a thin silver line. “It’s thin but it’s there.” 

“Thanks Blink.” Spot took the X-ray from him before moving the gurney through the door where Specs was waiting. 

The two moved Race through the halls before putting him in an actual room within the ER. “You’re also staying here a lot longer than planned, Racer.”

“What?!?” He exclaimed, sitting up which agitated his head causing him to groan. “Why?” 

Race texted Kat that they were in the room before giving his fiancé a look. “You have a mild concussion, they’re gonna want to keep you most of the day to make sure you’re not gonna die. Also we need to get a cast on that arm.” 

“Hey guys. How’s it going?” Kat asked, coming into the room, grabbing the x-ray, holding it up to the light to review it. 

“I wanna go home, tell Spot that I’m fine and I don’t have to stay.” Race said as Race adjusted his bed so he was on an incline instead of laying flat. 

Kat’s tongue poked out of her mouth as she studied the x-ray and shook her head. “Sorry, Race, but Spot’s right this time. You’ve got a mild concussion, along with the stitches and the cast we’re gonna put on, I want to keep you in here for a bit to watch you and make sure nothing crazy happens.” 

“I wanna have a second opinion ….. I don’t like the dream team so much anymore!” Race gave them both a pout as Spot chuckled. 

Kat gave the two a look. “I could have Talmore come in and look at him.” 

“Oh no! He already thinks Race is pretty - he’s not touching him. Race, a couple of more hours in here and you’ll be free.” Spot shook his head, looking at Race. “I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.”

Race’s eyes lit up. “ I love you too but you love my stubborn ass.” 

“No comment.”

Kat laughed, shaking her head. “Only you Race. Spot, go clock out. I’ll get Albert to do his cast.” 

“I can do it...” He gave her a look. 

Motioning to the nurse’s station, she smiled. “Go clock out, gather your stuff, grab Jack and come back here. You are almost dead on your feet.” 

He nodded, leaning over and kissing Race’s head, whispering an ‘I Love You’ before promising he’d be back shortly. 

“So how much longer do I need to be in here?” Race asked looking at Kat. 

Looking at the clock that now read 11:00, Kat sighed, handing him a menu from the bedside table. “We need to get some food in you first and you’ve got to finish that IV bag. I’ll come check up on you at 1:30 and if you’re good, I’ll release you.”

“I’m sorry.” Race looked at her whispering the apology. 

Kat sighed, setting the chart down, sitting in the chair beside the bed, relaxing for the first time since Jack brought him in. “For what?” 

“Making yours and Spot’s worst nightmare come true.” Race played with his fingers, avoiding looking at his sister. 

Reaching up, she caught his fingers and laced them with hers. “It’s alright Race. We’re just glad you’re not more seriously hurt. Yea, we dread the day any of our family ends up here but I’m glad it wasn’t anymore serious. Now figure out what you want for lunch and when Spot comes back, you can order. Let him or I know if anything doesn’t feel right or you feel dizzy, alright?” 

“Thanks Kat.” 

“You’re welcome.” She leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Don’t give Spot too much of a hard time. He’s really worried about you.” 

She left the room, leaving him alone as he flipped through the menu. Spot always hated the food, but did mention the mac and cheese was actually pretty good. He decided on that along with a salad and a chocolate chip cookie when the door was pushed open. 

Jack grinned seeing his brother while Spot looked annoyed. “Where’s Kat? Did you decide lunch?” 

“I think she went to do rounds.” Race said as Spot nodded, putting his stuff in the corner of the room. “Mac and cheese, salad and a chocolate chip cookie.”

“Anything to drink?” Spot gave him a look while picking up the phone. 

“Coke.” Spot tilted his head, trying to figure out if the saline in the IV would dilute the Coke enough - it wouldn’t. “Try again, Race.” 

“Ugh killjoy.” Race groaned. “Sprite then.”

Spot nodded, placing the order as Jack looked over Race’s injuries. “You doing alright?”

“Yea, got a fracture on my ulna, a pretty new bandage and apparently I’m concussed.” Race said, as Spot hung up the phone. “And I’m getting a cast at some point.” 

A knock on the door caused them all to look up. Albert grinned pushing open the door. “Hiya fellas. I hear someone needs a cast.” 

“Albie, I have a fracture on my ulna and the dream team thinks I need a cast.” Race pouted giving his best friend a look. 

Albert gave Race a look. “And you’re gonna be the dumbass to defy them?” 

“Well ….. not me but you could.” Race grinned. 

Laughing, he grabbed the necessary supplies before shaking his head. “Dude, I actually like my job. Besides you don’t piss off head nurse Spot or doctor Plums. It ain’t pretty. Just ask Spot about the other day.” 

“Dude, I’m gonna stick you with all the flu cases for the next two weeks if you don’t shut up.” Spot gave him a look as Albert held his hands up innocently. 

Albert turned to Race and gave him a look. “Sorry you’re on your own with defying them. Leave me outta it. What color do you want your cast?” 

“Wimp. What are my options?” Race asked, as Albert crossed the room to open a drawer, looking at the packages inside. 

Albert sighed. “Pink, green, blue, yellow, red, or purple.” 

“What color green?” Race asked with a grin. 

Albert and Spot both groaned while Jack chuckled. “Lime green like your ugly ass shoes at home.” 

“That’ll work.” Race nodded as Spot collapsed on the couch and threw his arm over his face. “What’s wrong Spottie?” 

“I’m tired Race. I was really looking forward to a nap after work before you got home.” Spot sighed, throwing his arm off his face. “I didn’t anticipate the day going like this.”

Jack looked between the two, starting to feel the tension in the room. “Do you guys need anything?” 

“Nah, I think we’re good. Thanks Jack.” Spot stood and gave him a hug before settling in the chair beside the bed. 

Jack leaned over, gave Race a kiss on the forehead before whispering something to him. “I’m heading out but let me know if you need anything. Bye Al.” 

Watching him leave, the room was quiet as Albert put the cast on. Spot held onto Race’s fingers as they watched Al work. “There it should be set in about 5 minutes. Don’t get it wet, Race. Spot knows how to take care of it.” 

“Thanks Albie.” 

“You’re welcome, Race.” Looking over at Spot, Al gave him a look.  “Need anything, Spot?” 

Shaking his head, Spot smiled. “No, I added something to Race’s order and I stole a can of Mountain Dew from the nurse’s station. But if I don’t see you before we leave, have fun tonight.” 

Albert’s face lit up at that. “Will do. Thanks.”

Watching him leave, Spot sighed, leaning back in the chair. He wanted to say something but he didn’t want to unload on Race. He felt Race squeeze his hand, looking up at him. “I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” Spot’s face softened, hearing the fear in Race’s voice. 

Race’s eyes were wet with tears as everything hit him from the morning. “For scaring you, making you worry and having your worst nightmare come true.” 

Standing up from the chair, Spot sat on the side of the bed and pulled Race into his arms, letting him sob. “I’m sorry you got hurt but dammit Race, my heart stopped when I saw you and Jack at the doors. I think I might’ve aged at least 10 years. I want to be pissed off at you but I’m just really glad you’re okay. Just promise me you’ll be more careful?” 

He felt Race nod on his chest as someone knocked on the door. Looking up, Spot rubbed his fingers under his eyes before calling to come in. An orderly came in and delivered Race’s lunch before asking if they needed anything else. She left after they said they were good. 

Spot grabbed a covered cup before sitting in the chair giving Race a look. “Eat!” 

“What did you get Spot?” Race sniffled, wiping his eyes before pouring the dressing on his salad. 

“Mac and cheese. They always have it for the patients but not always for the staff.” Spot popped a forkful in his mouth savoring the taste. “There’s one good thing about you being here - Mac and cheese for me for lunch.” 

Pulling out his phone, he looked at the texts that had come through. He didn’t see one from Medda, not knowing if she knew about Race yet. He sent her a quick text. 

Race’s in the ER with a concussion, 8 stitches and a fracture ulna. He’s okay and we’ll be going home shortly. I’ll have him call you in a bit. 

“Anything interesting going on in the world?” Race asked, motioning to his phone. 

Locking it and slipping it in his pocket, Spot shook his head. “Nah. You’re not missing a thing. Did you drive this morning or did Jack pick you up?”

“Jack picked me up. Why?” Race replied, starting on his Mac and cheese. “Holy shit this is amazing.” 

“Toldya.” Spot ate some more with a grin. “Trying to figure out if I needed to get your car home. I’m guessing you’re off work for a week or so. Do you need anything from school?” 

“My bag but Jack can grab that.” Race said, trying to think if there’s anything else. “I’ll text him later.” 

Silence enveloped the room, as Race slowly ate his chocolate chip cookie. He couldn’t get Spot’s earlier confession out of his mind. “Do you wanna take a quick nap?” 

Spot bounced his feet, shaking his head at Race’s question “Nah … was actually thinking of going to get some charts to work on. Why?” 

“I was going to see if you want to come lay with me. I’m not feeling the best and wanna cuddle.” Spot toed off his shoes, carefully crawling into the bed with his arm around Race as he laid his head on Spot’s chest. Spot gently ran his fingers through Race’s hair as his breath evened out. Looking up at the bag of saline, Spot sighed knowing they had at least an hour more to go. 

Looking down, Spot relaxed seeing Race sleeping soundly. He sighed, running a hand through his hair and thanked his lucky stars that his world was okay. A quiet tap sounded at the door as he said to come in. 

Kat’s face softened seeing the two of them in the bed. “How is he?” 

“He just ate and cried but he’s doing good. No complaints of pain but the meds we gave him would eliminate that.” Spot said looking up at the saline bag. “I’m guessing he has 30-45 minutes left on that.” 

She nodded. “Yea that’s what I’m thinking. I’m going to keep him off work for a week, I don’t want that concussion getting worse. But that’s not why I came in. There’s some paperwork you need to fill out.” 

“Surprised I’m just getting it now.” Spot rolled his eyes. “If you bring it in, I’ll complete it.” 

Kat put a hand on his arm. “Will do. How are you doing?”

“Better now that he’s fine and sleeping. But I was scared there for a moment.” He looked up at her with a smile. “And you, how are you?” 

Shrugging, she looked at Race. “The same. Broke down with Jack earlier and had a good cry so that seemed to help but I think my heart stopped when I saw them in the doorway.” 

“I told Race the same. I’m just glad he’s alright and it wasn’t anything more serious.” Spot pressed a kiss to Race’s forehead, sighing. 

She patted his arm. “Same, Spot. I’ll get those papers and I’ll be right back. You need anything?”

“Alcohol?” He asked, giving her a grin as she laughed. 

“Sorry that’ll have to be later. But Race won’t be able to have any for a couple of days.” She grinned. 

Spot gave her a look before shooing her from the room. “Thanks Plums.” 

“You’re welcome. Let me know if you need anything.” She took her leave, returning a few moments later with a stack of papers before leaving the two alone.

He quickly filled out the admission paperwork that was a couple of hours late. Reviewing them a final time, he scrawled his signature on the line before throwing them on the table at their feet. 

“Mmmmm what time is it?” Race murmured, shifting slightly. 

Running his hand through his hair, Spot started humming before whispering. “You’ve been asleep about 20 minutes. You’ve got some time before your saline bag is done.” 

“It’s bright, Spottie.” Race whined, burying his head deeper into his chest. “Can you turn the light off?” 

Reaching behind him, he flicked the light above the bed off. “That better?” 

“Yes. Thanks Spot. Love you.” He murmured sleepily. 

Pressing his lips to his head, Spot smiled, humming. “Love you too.” 

The opening of the door startled him as he yawned. “You okay?” 

Looking over at Kat as she washed her hands, she smirked at him. “Yea I must’ve fallen asleep. What time is it?” 

“1:30. Saline bag is almost done so I’m going to disconnect it. Wanna wake sleeping beauty up?” She put a pair of gloves on before smiling at the pair. 

Leaning near Race’s ear, Spot pressed a kiss to his cheek before coaxing him away. “Wake up Racer. Kat’s here to kick us out.” 

Groaning, he stretched before cracking his eyes open “I can go home?” 

“If you wake up.” Kat smiled at the grogginess in his voice as she clamped the IV line as the door opened. 

Albert grinned at them. “Thought you guys were already gone?”

“Nah he had to finish a bag of saline before Plums released him.” Spot said as Albert grabbed a pair of gloves and some supplies. 

Spot pushed himself out of the bed, standing near it gripping Race’s hand. “Hey Race, look at me. Don’t look at them.” 

Race looked over at Spot with a grin “Why?”

“Just don’t. Tell me a story, Race.” Spot said, motioning Kat and Albert to go ahead. 

“A story huh? Well Jack likes to come hang out in my Science Class. He has a habit of leaving something random in the room. Some of my students have him as a teacher so he always tells them to look for something out of place. It drives me absolutely bunkers but the kids really enjoy it.” He shrugged, as Albert put gauze on the IV site.

“Race you gotta keep the gauze on for a couple of hours then you can replace it with a bandaid.” Albert gave his friend a look before looking up at Spot who grinned. Albert threw the IV materials always before leaving the room. 

Race flashed them a thumbs up before looking over at Kat. “Can I leave?” 

“Slow your roll.” She gave her brother-in-law a look. “I’ve gotta draw up discharge papers. You’re going to be off work for a week, giving you some time to heal. Take it easy, Race.” She paused, giving him a no-nonsense look. “No alcohol, no strenuous activity, and no baths. Sponge baths for the first couple of days, then you can shower. Spot, you know what you’re looking for. Any questions?” 

Race’s face fell at the restrictions as he looked at Spot who shook his head. “I think we’re good. Thanks Plums.” 

“I’ll come check up on him the day after tomorrow. You’re welcome. Let me get those papers then I’m kicking you to the curb.” She grinned at them, walking out the door. 

Race leaned up and kissed Spot’s chin, the closest place he could reach. “Thanks Spottie. Can we get pizza for dinner?” 

“If that’s what you want, sure we can get pizza for dinner. No pineapple.” Spot shot him a look. “I don’t care if you’re hurt, no pineapple.” 

Race pouted, as the door was pushed open revealing Kat and Specs with a wheelchair. “Kat back me up - pineapple is good on pizza right?” 

“Sure is. Spot let him have pineapple. He’s hurt.” Kat winked at Race as he laughed. She handed Spot the stack of papers. “You know what’s included in here. Let me know if you have any questions. Race, seriously take it easy tonight, watch movies and hang out on the couch type of night.” 

“Thanks Kat. Can I go?” Race looked between the three in the room. 

Spot grabbed his bag from the corner before heading for the door. “I’ll meet you at the exit in a few minutes. Thanks Plums, Specs.” 

He disappeared as Kat and Specs helped him into the wheelchair before pushing him from the room. Several stops were made along the way as their friends said goodbye to him. As promised, Spot was waiting by the exit, his truck idling with the passenger’s door open. With some help, they got Race into the truck, Spot thanking Kat and Specs again. “Ready to go home?” 

“Take me home Spottie.” Race said with a yawn as he pulled away from the curb and headed home. 

Thanks @wide-eyed--wonderer for sending this prompt. This is 4390 words of pure mayhem and Race being Race. Let me know what you think! 

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 145

145

The following morning was awkward. Keith guessed it’d been close to sunrise when Lance’s body calmed. His boyfriend adorably clingy as Keith took care of him. Proud to say it was before coffee. Hiding his rising fears of something being wrong and Lance being sent into heat because of it, the pair of them came out to Coran changing the sheets like it was nothing

“Shiro’s waiting outside with coffee. Never mind, number two, you’re not in trouble”

Lance hid his face against Keith’s shoulder, arms around his waist as he whined softly. Keith feeling the need to defend their actions

“Uh... Lance... kind of went into heat”

“I gathered as much from when I came to check on you last night. He had a very stressful day, it’s only natural he needed some release of tension. Don’t make that face, I was once a young fae in my prime”

“But is he okay? I mean, it wasn’t a full heat, but his scent wasn’t settling”

“I suspect it’s a defence mechanism to keep you from straying when he felt vulnerable. We’ll get this sorted, then take a peek at our twins. I hope you don’t mind, I took Kosmo to do his doggy business. He’s waiting with Shiro. I won’t bother remaking it properly. I expect you both want to get out of here as soon as you can”

Lance had tried to send him to talk to Shiro yesterday, but with Lance’s emotions all over the place, he knew he needed to be by Lance’s side more than he needed to talk to Shiro. Lance having any heat like symptoms didn’t seem they should be normal... though Lance’s scent was particular strong when he’d gone to Cuba. If it was a normal pregnancy thing, then that was fine, as long as his boyfriend was healthy and happy, they’d work the rest out.

Lance started getting fidgety as Coran had him sipping water, Keith holding his boyfriend’s hand. He knew Lance wanted to apologise to Coran, but was deeply ashamed that his body had betrayed him

“Coran, you said that Lance might have gone into heat as a defence mechanism?”

Lance shot him a glare over the plastic cup, Shiro giving a small cough

“I’m theorising that thanks to yesterday being so emotional, instead of transforming into a bat as he would have, his scent called out to you to stay close to him. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, my boy. I’m just happy you’re home with us”

Lance lowered the cup, Lance lashing out

“You mean there’s nothing for you to be embarrassed about. I thought this was over...”

Uh-oh... okay. Maybe meddling now was the wrong plan... But Keith knew Lance wanted things to move back to being normal and that he wouldn’t open his big mouth and tell Coran what he was feeling without prompting

“Lance...”

Tears formed in Lance’s eyes, Keith squeezing his hand, trying to calm Lance only upset him more

“No. It’s no okay! I can’t even talk to you and I don’t like it! I don’t know how to feel! I feel on edge all the time and I don’t know how to make things better! I don’t want to not be able to talk to you, but I... I thought I wouldn’t go into heat like that... I thought things had settled down. I did everything you asked for. I did... and I... I tried so hard and everyone keeps making me feel like I’m not!”

Coran sighed softly. Taking the cup from Lance’s hand, he placed it near the ultrasound monitor before sitting himself down on the bed facing Lance. Coran didn’t seem about to yell... He better not yell...

“Lance, I’m sorry my boy. I know I’ve been quite pushy, but I never meant to make you feel so low. I know the loss of Miriam has devastated you. It devastated me not being able to help you. I think of you as my own. And part of me wished to keep you by my side so I could be the one you leant on. That you’ve been keeping on with the care plan we designed, it’s a very good thing. For you and our little ones. I missed you very much. I only want you to have the smoothest pregnancy possible, and as you know, there could be complications closer to your due date. I’m not mad at you, my boy. Not at all. You’re grieving. Your hormones are all over the place, your increased libido is just one aspect of a whole lot of what your body is going through”

When Coran went to hug him, Lance sniffled as he hugged him back tightly. Who knew he was so good at fixing friendships? He was better at this than they gave him credit for.

“There could be complications?”

Keith had forgotten Shiro. He could have smacked his brother for the question. Pulling back, Coran wiped away Lance’s tears, giving them all a wobbly smile. The man had tears rolling down his own face. Couldn’t Shiro see they were having a bonding moment?!

“Possibly. The twins have Keith’s blood type, causing Lance to not feel very well. They’re also both human from testing. With Lance’s body being that of a vampire, it is possible that things may become complicated. He may suffer a bleed, or in the worst case scenario, lose the twins and his own undead life. Provided things settle, I’m confident if we can make 30 weeks we can start looking a caesarean in case of emergency, but with the best case scenario we’ll let these two little ones bake as long as possible. He’s had one bleed, the cause from stress, his body already seemed much more stable with Keith by his side. His colour is much better than it was the last time he was here. Though he did have a big day yesterday, before we even made it back home. It’d been a long time since I saw two panic attacks like that”

Keith wasn’t sure he’d count the first one as a panic attack. Panic attack and anxiety attacks both sucked testicles, but they both brought up different feelings

“I wasn’t ready. Everyone’s being so nice... but I can’t not think of Mami laying there when they give condolences. I can’t not think of her without her warmth... I didn’t want... I didn’t want to leave her behind”

“Miriam will always be with you. She loved you fiercely. She’d want to see smiling, my boy. I had the privilege of knowing her for a long time, and you made her so very happy”

“I should have brought her back to Cuba sooner. I should have... I kept her chained to me for so long...”

Keith moved to sit on the bed, gathering Lance against him

“You didn’t chain her. She was happy. Remember all her friends she had at the home? All her stories? She loved you. You made her happy”

“I let her down... I let my ego go. I let me go...”

“You didn’t. You acted to save someone you love”

“I left her alone and scared! I was scared! And you were gone... I should have... done more”

Lance was in ugly cry mode. Maybe staying up all night hadn’t been as soothing for Lance as it’d been for him. Keith had to admit he’d gotten pretty sore with his third orgasm. The fourth he was too lazy and simply did Lance from behind as they cuddled.

“You did everything right. Mami was loved. She is still loved. You told me how happy she was towards the end of her time. You’re alright, babe. You’re okay...”

Keith didn’t know if what he was saying was the right thing. Shiro would know, but his useless brother was being uselessly silent. Rubbing his leg, Coran hushed Lance

“It’s okay, my boy. It’s okay. I need you to take a few deep breaths”

“How can I? Apparently I go into heat?! I thought this was done! How can I be in heat when I’m pregnant?!”

“I wouldn't call it a true heat. Think back to when your emotions became unstable. Your body sought the smallest form it could, knowing Keith would be there. Your body knows Keith is here, you’re just trying to keep him close”

“You mean I’m manipulating him!”

Good one, Coran. Well done. Keith didn’t feel very manipulated... He couldn’t help being really horny for the man he loved. Lance’s arse was next level

“No, babe. Hey. Hey, it’s okay. I told you last night, I’m okay. I’m okay and I’m here with you. Coran can we postpone the scan for a bit?”

“I want to see our babies! I want to know they’re still there!”

Good one, Keith. Way to upset his already upset boyfriend. Lance’s nails starting to dig into his arm. Okay. Calming Lance back down wasn’t working

“Okay. Hey, they are. They are. Guys... help?”

Coran rubbed Lance’s leg again, eying the fresh wounds on Keith’s arm under Lance’s nails, before flicking his gaze back to Lance’s face

“Lance, my boy. How about that scan? How about we have a little look. You should be far enough long that we can see what sex these little ones are”

Lance hiccuped, then sobbed out

“I want it to be a surprise...!”

They couldn’t win against an emotionally exhausted Lance. He’d been feeling ill before his not-heat rolled around. It kind of made sense to Keith that Lance would be stressed enough that he felt hopeless

“Okay, babe. We don’t need to know now. Why don’t we have a look at our little cupcakes? Hey, that’ll make you feel better, right?”

Lance nodded, his nails drawing back from Keith’s skin. Keith trying to move his arm so Lance didn’t see the blood, but it was too late, Lance’s bottom lip quivering. Why did everyone think he was the mature one?!

“Hey, it’s just a scratch. It’ll heal in no time. Think about the twins. We’ve got to pick a room for them, and we’re gonna need like two of everything... right?”

“Y-yeah... Mami... has gifts for them...”

Shiro opened his mouth, finally contributing

“I bet Hunk would love to plan the baby shower. Him and Curtis, and you know Pidge loves to party.

Making Lance cry harder again. Three full grown men were useless at comforting one pregnant vampire

“I didn’t think about having a baby shower!”

“Okay. Babe, it’s okay. See, Coran’s going to give you a scan, then we’ll go home, back to the apartment”

“He still needs to eat...”

Somewhere out there, some cosmic god was laughing at their failure. Keith glared daggers at Coran who hurried to get off the bed

“Yes, well, let’s get you settled and get that shirt up. It’d be much better if you were calmer for the scan...”

Keith continued to glare until Coran shut up. Matt would have been more useful than these two so called “adults”.

Getting Lance settled wasn’t easy. His boyfriend hiding his face as Coran slid his shirt up. No one dared upset Keith further by talking. Running his fingers through Lance’s hair, his boyfriend sniffled away, making a visible effort to calm back down. Maybe Coran would understand the kind of pressure Lance was putting on himself now? Bringing up the ultrasound, Coran soon had their twins on the screen

“Babe, look”

Lance raised his head, letting out another sob, Keith could tell this one was from relief at the pair of tiny twins

“Our babies...”

Coran made Lance jump with his enthusiasm

“Yes! Now, the heart rates are a little high, no doubt thanks to how upset you are, you two keep watching while I take their measurements!”

Yeah. They didn’t need to know that bit. Only that they were still floating around in there. The sight of them would never not knock him for six. They’d made those two lives. Sure, it’d been a complete accident, but the pair of them were already wrapped around their little fingers... The size of their heads had Keith already cringing in sympathy. His boyfriend’s arse was gonna be tender as hell if he was giving birth naturally

“Can we hear their heartbeats?”

“You sure can, number two!”

Both twins had racing heartbeats, as Coran had warned. Lance in a fresh wave of tears, wiping at his face as he did. How did a 45 year old man manage to be so damn cute? They we’re definitely going to be disgustingly in love parents

“I’m so happy you’re here... I couldn’t look last time”

It wouldn’t have been the same if Keith had been in Lance’s position. He knew how much Lance would have wanted to be there if their roles were reversed

“I’m going to be here for every scan, babe”

Lance snorted very wetly

“God... I’m feeling a lot right now”

“It’s okay. Sometimes you just need to cry it out”

“I feel like I told you that”

“You’re a very smart vampire”

“I don’t feel smart... I’m so sorry... I can’t stop crying...”

“These are happy tears, right, babe?”

Lance nodded

“I love them so much... I love you so much... I just love so much...”

Keith melted. He had the sweetest man for his boyfriend.

Shiro tried to muscle in on the free love

“I’m already the best uncle, obviously”

“I left... shit, I didn’t tell you... but I want you and Curtis to raise them if something happens to me and Keith... Rieva witnessed my will... Shit... I hadn’t told you yet...”

Keith had to have a will with his line of work. He hadn’t thought much about it. Lance had been thinking for the both of them

“Nothing’s going to happen. All that shit is over”

If you didn’t count the fact that Honerva’s drug was still out there. Doses had to exist that they didn’t know about... Rome slightly mad that Sendak had expired before they’d secured the distribution route. Lance didn’t seem to be thinking about it

“I hope so. I hope so, so much. I just want our life together to start already”

“Me too, babe. You and me. Sounds pretty good”

“Don’t forget your awesome brother”

Keith rolled his eyes

“How can I forget you? You’re kind of hard to miss”

“Just making sure you remember who’s your favourite brother when you need a baby sitter”

“Like hell I’m leaving you with our babies. We’ll probably come back and find you’ve been teaching them how to wield a knife”

“That’s more your thing. Obscure pop culture references and a decent taste in music is my gift to them”

“Can we get a refund?”

They all shut up when Lance started to laugh. Keith loved that laugh so much. Stupid Shiro hogging the glory for making Lance feel better. He was going to have to train Kosmo to poop in Shiro’s bed or something, it needed to be something really good to teach his brother a proper lesson. Still, he supposed he could give Shiro one free pass, on account of how mind boggling amazing it was to see their twins again.

[avengerscompound]

Like Rabbits - Chapter 15

Like Rabbits:  A Black Widow/WinterHawk Fanfic

Masterlist // PREVIOUS

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Rating: E Square:  @ladiesofmarvelbingo​ - N4, "If this is love, loving you is easy."

Word Count:  2510

Warnings:  Labor, Clint uses Nitrous Oxide

Synopsis:  While you and Natasha are contemplating starting a family together, Bucky and Clint are doing the exact same thing.  So two couples go take the same path to parenthood together.

A/N: This is a Nat/Reader chapter.

Chapter 15

Natasha had started to worry.  Things had been going really well … with everything really.  The babies had been growing well and you’d had minimal issues.  Just a bout of sciatica that made your whole left leg go numb for a few days and the weird vivid dreams.  Your blood pressure had been good.  The babies were the same size.  You were a little uncomfortable but otherwise fine.

That should have meant Natasha would relax.  It did the opposite.  She kept waiting for the other shoe to drop and everything to fall apart.  So when you started making little pained noises and rubbing the middle of your back, she was sure that something bad was about to happen.  She had visions of when she’d miscarried and woken up in her own blood.  You kept reassuring her that it was just Braxton Hicks contractions.  But all Natasha could think was it was still too soon and something was about to go wrong.  The fact that Clint and Bucky had decided to go away this very weekend seemed to solidify that fact.

By the afternoon you had started to stop much more regularly and the sounds you made really were beginning to sound like you were in a lot of pain.

“I don’t think it’s Braxton Hicks, zaika,” Natasha said, coming over and rubbing your back for you.

“It has to be, Tasha.  It’s too early.”  You whined.

“Dorogaya,” she cooed.  “They said anytime and we need to make sure they’re okay.  If you’re in pain we should get to the hospital.”

You huffed.  “Maybe if I call them?”

“Alright, zaika.  But if they even say you should maybe come in just in case.  We’re going in.”  Natasha said.

“Okay, Tasha,” you said and waddled over to get your phone.  As you walked Natasha noticed you were dripping some kind of fluid on the floor.

“Zaika,” she said gently, pointing at your crotch.  “You’re leaking.”

You looked down at yourself and frowned. “Did I pee myself?”

“I don’t know.  Did you?  Or did your waters just break?”  She asked.

“No… Tasha.  It’s too soon.”  You said, trying to make it reality by just arguing about it.  “Besides, Clint and Bucky went away.”

She came over to you and wrapped her arms around you, letting you melt into them.  “Call the hospital, I’ll call the dumbass exes.  We’re gonna have our babies, zaika.”

You nuzzled into her neck for a moment and pulled away.  “Okay.  Can you pack a bag too?”  You asked.

“Of course, my love,” she said.

You went and grabbed your phone and Natasha headed upstairs, dialing Bucky on her way.

It didn’t take long before he’d answered.  “Tasha?  Is something wrong?”  He said in his usual greeting.

“James,”  Natasha answered, attempting to remain calm but not 100% sure she was managing it.  “I realize you probably only just arrived.  But you need to come back.  She’s in labor.”

“Fuck.  What the hell?”  Bucky cursed down the line.  It actually made Natasha relax a little and she dug out the bag that was already half packed with things for the hospital.  She could hear Clint and Bucky scrambling around in through the phone as she started to pack.

“She’s been having labor pains all day but she kept telling me it was false ones.  But her water just broke.  So we’re going in.  I will call again, but I think you should have time to get back.  But… you know.  Hurry.”  She said.

“We’re leaving.”  It was Clint this time, obviously having snatched the phone off Bucky.  “Tell her to keep her legs together.”

Natasha laughed and disconnected the call.  She finished packing the last few things you needed and brought the bag down.  “Ready?”

You were leaned over the table panting.  She moved up behind you and began to massage your back.  “Why didn’t I realize?”

“You were just being optimistic.  You thought they’d make it until your induction day.”  She said, her hands kneading your lower back.

The contraction seemed to pass and the two of you went out to the car together.  It was a long drive from the farm to the hospital, and while you only had two contractions on the way the second seemed closer and stronger to Natasha.

You checked in and changed into your button-up nightshirt in the labor room, another contraction hitting as you were putting it on.  Natasha worked your back again as it hit, wishing there was something more she could do to help you.

The first of what would be many midwives came in and put a monitor on you and set you up in bed, telling you they just needed to monitor the twins for a little while, and if everything was fine, you could get up and move around.   She also checked how far you were dilated and it was only four centimeters.  “You’re in for a long haul.”  She warned.

Three contractions hit while you were on the monitor and they definitely seemed worse for being stuck in the bed.  Natasha held your hand through them and in between she put on the music you wanted to listen to and lit a scented candle to help cover up the hospital smell.

You had been let up to move around when Clint and Bucky burst into the room.

“Are you okay?  Did we miss it?”  Clint said as he skidded to a halt in the room.

“Still a long way off.  It’s fine.”  Natasha said.

“Thank god,” Bucky said.  “Do you need anything, bun?”

“Ice chips.  I’m so hot.”  You complained.  “Can you make the aircon colder?”

“You got it.”  He said and went and adjusted the aircon before heading back out into the corridor.  Natasha knew how he felt about hospitals and she knew he’d try and keep busy to distract himself from where he was.

Unfortunately, the nurse was not lying.  Three hours into your labor you had stripped naked because no matter how ice-cold they made it in the room you were sweating.  All concept of shame shoved right out of your head.  You didn’t care who saw you at all.  Natasha took you to the bathroom and you stood under the cool water of the shower.  After an hour of doing that you couldn’t stand up anymore and Clint put on a pair of swim trunks and hopped in with you.  Bucky had gotten you an exercise ball and you sat on it, leaning against Clint while Natasha rubbed your back.  Every time a contraction hit, she’d up the heat of the water and hold the nozzle against your back.

An hour after that they made you go on the monitor again for two hours.  In that time, you lost your ability to cope at all and they gave you the nitrous.  That didn’t seem to help with the pain exactly.  Each contraction you still reacted exactly as you had before.  Squeezing Bucky’s metal hand as Natasha rubbed your back and you moaned and cried out in pain.  But it did seem to make you cope for a little while.  You started giggling in between contractions and when you were asked what was so funny you couldn’t explain it.  You ended up sharing the nitrous with Clint and the two of you just completely lost it in fits of giggles.  Natasha was just glad you were still in good spirits.

It didn’t last though.  The nitrous started making you really confused and disorientated.  Thankfully they let you off the bed again and you returned to the bathroom.  This time filling the tub and climbing in.  Bucky sat on the edge, letting you doze against him as Natasha held the nozzle against your back through each contraction.

You stayed in the tub for two hours.  The water gradually getting topped up each time it cooled off too much.  When you got out to have everything checked again you had pruned up from the water.  The babies were doing fine.  You were still only five centimeters dilated. 

The process was repeated for another ten hours.  Walking.  Bath.  Monitor with nitrous.

“Why is this taking so long?”  You cried.  When the nurses left the room.

“They said with twins natural is much harder,” Natasha soothed, as she patted our brow with a cool cloth.  “Do you want to try an epidural?”

“No.  No.  I wanted to be present for this.”  You sobbed.

“Honey.  You will be.  It just numbs you below the waist.”  She said.  “Remember?  “You could try pethidine,, but that will actually make you feel high.”

Another contraction hit and you doubled over, breathing through it.

The monitors started to make loud beeping sounds and two of the midwives came rushing in.

“What’s going on?”  Bucky said standing and trying to look over their shoulders.  “What’s wrong?”

“The babies are in a little bit of distress.”  One said as the other checked you over. “We’re going to get your doctor in here.”

The one nurse rushed off to make the call as the other stayed and started to do an ultrasound.  Natasha's heart was racing.  This was it.  This was where it all fell apart.  There would be no babies to take home.  She wouldn’t be doing midnight feedings or singing them to sleep.  It was being taken from her again.

“What does that mean?  What’s going to need to happen?”  Bucky asked, sounding just as panicked as she felt.

“We’ll wait for the doctor to get here.  Okay?”  She said.  “Try not to panic.”

Which of course only made it worse.  The doctor took half an hour to get there.  By the time he arrived, you’d thrown up and Natasha felt like she was going to too.

She looked at the charts and the reading and frowned.  “Okay.  We’re going to need to get this show on the road.  You’re going to need to have a cesarean and it’s going to need to happen now.

“No,” you said with obvious panic setting in.  “Tasha.  I wanted to deliver them naturally.”

“I know honey, but things change.”  Natasha soothed.

“Listen to your wife,” the doctor said, as two orderlies rushed in.  “We’re going to take good care of you, and when you wake up, you’ll have two healthy babies, but if we don’t do this now, I can’t promise that.”

“I won’t even be awake?  Tasha?”

“It’s okay, zaika.  I won’t leave your side.”  Natasha said.

Bucky had started cursing under his breath and Clint took his hand and held it against his mouth.  As the orderlies pushed the bed out into the hall, Natasha walked with you, holding your hand and soothing you as the boys followed on behind.  They washed up and she returned to your side in a surgical gown and cap

You were put under a general anesthetic and when you counted off, everything happened so fast.  Maybe it was the lack of sleep not allowing her to process things, but it felt like the had only just set up the screen when they had taken out the first of her daughters.  Bucky and Clint stood with her and Bucky had gone so white she worried he was going to pass out.  But when Rebecca’s cries filled the room, all the color returned again and tears filled his eyes.  They were only given a moment to see her before they rushed her way to give her medical attention.  She had only just been whipped away when Lyra had joined the world.

“If you want to go and spend time with your daughters, we’ll be here for another half an hour.”  The doctor said.

“I’ll stay,” Natasha said.

“You sure, Nat?  You don’t want to see them?”  Clint asked.

“I promised I wouldn’t leave her side,” Natasha replied.  “I’ll meet them when she gets to.”

Clint and Bucky nodded and each of them kissed her cheek before following the nurses out to the NICU.

Natasha stayed by your side as they stitched you back up and wheeled you out to recovery.  She was there when you groggily opened your eyes and looked around confused by your surroundings.  She held your hand and soothed you as you started to cry and couldn’t form the words as to why you were so upset.  And when the nurse came over and checked you over and gave you some juice and a sandwich to help get your blood sugar back up she held your juice cup for you so you could just lie and sip it through a straw without spilling it everywhere.

“Are they okay, Tasha?”  You asked.

“I haven’t seen them yet.”  She said.  “I assume so or I think Bucky and Clint would have come to let me know.”

“Why didn’t you go see them?”  You asked.

“I said I wouldn’t leave your side, zaika,” Natasha said.  “So I haven’t.”

“But your babies?  Why would you stay with me?”

She leaned down and kissed your forehead tenderly.  “Because I love you.”

“If this is love, loving you is easy.”  You whispered.

She smiled and ran her fingers over your scalp.  “So easy.”

You let out a breath and smiled.  “Can we see them?”

“I’ll go find someone.  Will you be okay?”

You nodded and she got up and went and found a nurse.  That kicked things into gear again.  The truth was Natasha was anxious.  She wanted to meet her daughters and the no news thing wasn’t helping at all.

They had some orderlies move you down to your room and switched you on to your hospital bed.  You were just settling in when Clint and Bucky came in followed by one of the nurses pushing an incubator.

“Hey there mommies,”  Clint said.  “You ready to see your girls?”

The nurse moved the crib close to the bed.  Natasha’s heart caught.  They were tiny and wrinkled and dressed in diapers that looked huge on them and pink onesies.  They had what looked like a heart rate monitor attached to them, but other than that no other tubes or wires, which Natasha took as a good thing.  And they looked like you.  A tear escaped and for a second Natasha questioned who exactly she was because she didn’t cry.  Not ever.

“Would you like to hold your babies?”  The nurse asked.

“Yes, yes, please.  Is that okay?”  You asked.

“Of course, they’re both very healthy.  You did a good job, mama.  They took a little oxygen and warming up but they recovered very quickly.”  The nurse said taking out the baby with the name tag reading Lyra Yelena Barnes-Romanoff.  She put the tiny little bundle in your arms and you held her close and sniffed her head.  “You can try feeding them if you like.”

Rebecca was taken out next and placed into Natasha’s arms.  Natasha smelled her just as you had done with Lyra.   She wore that distinctive newborn scene and right away Natasha knew she was in love and that would never get taken away from her.  Not ever.

// NEXT

[frangipanidownunder]

A prompt: AU where Mulder isn't abducted but Diana returns (not dead) with an enticing new investigation during the Season 8 timeline

1

The light is so strong, magnetic, that he is physically pulled towards it. There are familiar faces smiling at him, it feels good to see them. They look happy, they look like they want him to be happy, all part of the same club. It would be only natural to step inside the circle. The light has a warmth to it, casting all doubts aside, bar one. Scully. Her hold over his heart is stronger than the compelling beam glowing before him. Skinner’s voice calling his name snaps his attention away for a second and by the time he turns around again, the light, the people, the urge has gone.

2

Scully’s news is a thunderbolt. That the impossible truth of their quest is revealed as a collection of growing cells in her uterus. It is both absurd and entirely right. The tears he cries with her are hard to quantify. Relief, happiness, fear, confusion. And profound love. They guard their secret like a precious pearl, hiding it away, only prising the clam shell open when they’re nestled together. His love for her, for this miracle is dramatic, overwhelming.

“I feel the same way,” she whispers to him, burrowed as she is in his embrace. They are tightly wound around each other. To hear her confession is utterly astonishing.

So, when Diana makes an appearance at the basement, it’s like the door to their secret world is blown off, leaving them exposed.

3

She slinks into the room with a half-apology and the promise of a new case. From his periphery, he sees Scully’s eyes narrowing, her arms pressing tighter across her chest. There is more than just her job to protect now. He listens to Diana, tries to recall the intelligent, proud, fierce woman she was all those years ago. She was a trailblazer in many ways. A woman in a man’s world, unapologetic, unafraid to stand out. Scully came a few years later and illuminated his life in a different way.

In the light of recent events, his view of Diana has focused to pinpoints of suspicion and intrigue. Why was she still here? To make amends? Her redemption was hardly impressive enough to grant an open audience with him. Yet there is something about her, the way she is standing before them, the way her eyes are almost pleading. Perhaps it speaks more to the absolute certainty of his place by Scully’s side, that he nods to the seat and she sits.

“There’s a case I’d like your input on,” she says, flicking her gaze to Scully every so often during her brief. Diana tells them about an organisation, Zeus Genetics, that, she claims, is involved with experiments on foetuses to create alien-human hybrids. Blood pulses in his ears. His automatic response to believe is subdued these days. Diana hasn’t quite picked up on the change. Scully gets up and leaves the office.

“Is everything okay between you two?” The way Diana says ‘you two’ makes his skin stipple. Is it that obvious?

He doesn’t answer her. “How do you think we can help you?”

“I’d like you to talk to someone. Someone I’m sure will convince more than I can.” She hooks her jacket over her shoulder, and adds a hopeful, “Fox.”

4

Someone turns out to be Duffy Haskell. Haskell claims his wife was murdered after giving birth to an alien baby. He has a grainy ultrasound and a wildly desperate look as his proof.

“Kath was a multiple abductee,” Diana says and looks at Scully a beat too long. Mulder watches Scully’s hands slide over her abdomen. “There are certain similarities to…events that you have first-hand knowledge of and I thought it pertinent to get your perspective.”

Scully looks at Duffy. “I’m sorry for your loss, Mr Haskell. But I’m not sure what more we can offer that Agent Fowley hasn’t already gone through with you.” The look that Scully shoots at Diana is scorching. “Mulder?” Scully nods for them to leave.

He’s inclined to go but there’s something catching in his throat and he moves his arm out, holding onto Scully’s jacket sleeve. “Wait,” he says. “Mr Haskell, perhaps you’d be so kind as to leave the ultrasound and other information with us for a while. So that we can go over it. I’m sure you’ve provided Agent Fowley with your contact details.”

Haskell nods, leaves.

“There’s another group of people I’d like you to meet,” Diana says. “I’ll meet you in the car park.”

“Are you okay with this, Scully,” Mulder asks after Diana walks away. “Because if you’re not, just say the word.”

“I’m fine. What does she want, Mulder? I don’t understand her motivation. And I still don’t…”

“I know,” he says. “Neither do I.”

 5

At a table sits a number of people. A woman with red hair and kind eyes introduces herself as Lizzie Gill. A scientist, Lizzie explains she’s been working on human-alien cloning.

“What do you mean?” Scully asks. “How can that be?”

“Our efforts were funded by the Government. Most were unsuccessful, but recently, there have been live births.”

Scully rubs the bridge of her nose and blows out an exasperated sigh.

“Why are we here?” Mulder asks Diana.

Diana stands, pulls out a file from a drawer. Holds the Manila folder up. ���This is a contact list of all the women who have been, and who will be, used as hosts for the experiment. They are all patients of the same pair of doctors. Lev and Parenti.”

There’s a sharp silence in the room. Lizzie Gill spreads her fingers flat on the desk. Scully presses a finger under her nose.

“I know about the IVF,” Diana says and Scully scrapes her chair back across the floor. The door slams behind her.

Mulder inhales, grasping for a reason not to follow her. “What the fuck is going on, Diana?” His fist smashes the desk and the file flips up, scattering papers across the surface and floor.

Lizzie swallows, bends to collect them. “Your partner’s name is on this list.”

“Fox…”

He swings to face Diana. “What have you done?” He begins to pace, tugging at the buttons on his cuffs, rolling the sleeves up.

“Fox,” she starts again, casting her eyes over to Lizzie, then finally back to Mulder, when he stops by the door. “Fox, please. It’s more about what I’ve been trying to undo.”

Lizzie nods kindly at him. “Your partner might do well to hear this.”

He can’t put Scully through any more trauma. Her emotional wellbeing is paramount. He’ll filter what he needs to. He’s about to sit in a chair when the door opens.

Chin up, eyes blazing, Scully speaks. “Tell me everything.”

A flash of guilty relief crosses Diana’s face. Her account of CSM’s interference with donations supplied from innocent husbands; of cloning with alien DNA from the Roswell crash; of speculation about an alien invasion are sobering, repulsive.

 Later, curled together in her bed, she whispers, “those other women, Mulder. The ones whose IVF treatments worked, what will happen to them?”

His fingers traces around her navel, flattens against the soft skin of her belly. He wants to tell her they’re not important, that he doesn’t care. But he can’t. He brushes a kiss against her cheek, tasting the briny track of her tears. “I don’t know.” She wriggles closer to him so that her head is under his chin, body half across his. “But I do know our baby will be safe.”

“Because Agent Fowley told us about Parenti?” She sniffs and lets out a bitter chuckle.

But it’s not that. It’s something resonant in his bones. A humming of certainty. A knowledge borne of some instinctual place.

Diana and Lizzie did not know about this pregnancy, its natural origins. “If you continue the IVF, you must find a new doctor. We can help,” Diana had said and there was something about the solemn tone in her voice that made him feel that she could be trusted.

“Nothing will happen to our baby, Scully. I’ll make sure of that.” He kisses her hair. “He’s gonna be fine.”

“He?” A tiny murmur of surprise. “How do you know that?”

“I just know.”

“He’s going to be special,” she says after a moment.

“He already is.”

[shmegel]

You know what I miss most right now?

I want to go to the freaking doctor, get blood drawn, get a freakin MRI, go to the dentist, all without being terrified of getting a deadly illness. I spent TWO WHOLE YEARS of my life dedicating myself to trying to kill this freaking fever and get better, and now that’s on hold. I’m gonna be sick for years!!

My life was already on pause!!! I went to at least 1-2 doctors per week, spent hours researching, got so many tests and so many scans, ruled SO MANY THINGS out.

Now it’s on super pause!!! I can’t get a mammogram or an ultrasound or an MRI or PET or CT or even my routine blood tests!!! I still have to do those sometimes- my second time being in a couple weeks probably. But they’re just checking to make sure medicine isn’t killing my liver- no one can help much with diagnostics when they can’t examine you in person. They can’t know if there’s a tumor or abnormal blood flow without the scans. They can’t check for new things without blood tests- I’ve had so many but clearly they’re not enough because I’m STILL SICK.

I’m doing as much as I can from home- researching still, ruling things out, sending scientific articles and case studies to my doctors, injecting myself every other week, regular video appointments with specialists, but I feel so freaking powerless

I figured out another possibility for the fevers by graphing all the temperatures I’ve taken over years and looking at patterns and comparing them to the patterns in lit reviews then case studies and I have a solid theory but it requires a brand new specialist that is VERY specialized so now I’m contacting Mayo Clinic in Minnesota to get a video appointment, but I’m worried by how much they’ll be able to do from there. It’s gonna require extensive testing that no one has run before, and I just don’t know how they can do it all. I can’t fly to frickin Minnesota right now, or even go to a normal doctor safely.

Also Sjögren’s Syndrome is basically melting my teeth and I really need regular dentistry right now because I want tO LEAVE THIS PANDEMIC WITH TEETH IN MY MOUTH.

I’m just??? So tired of having to be my own doctor???

Figuring all this out basically on my own, reading so much research that I feel like I’m halfway to being a doctor in the first place. Dealing with the high temperatures that make me too confused to think properly, so I only have a narrow window to work on this when I do. It’s wild.

I dunno I mean I could think of all the places I miss but most of all I miss the feeling that I’m moving toward feeling better, that this illness will be over soon because I’m actively working toward figuring it out. That this test or that test will be enough for a doctor to form a new theory or rule out a dangerous disease. I miss it so much. I miss that feeling of hope and accomplishment and knowing that the day I get better gets closer each day. Sometimes now it feels like that will never happen.

Get me out of this garbage country and put me somewhere with good healthcare where someone else will figure out what’s wrong and where I won’t be put in charge of being my own doctor. Most of all right now where I won’t have to worry about getting a deadly illness while trying to cure a non-deadly illness.

I want healthcare!!! Why am I in the number one country for not caring about healthcare? Why don’t people in charge care about their most vulnerable citizens? Why must we suffer?

I’m tired of feeling like my hands are tied in every aspect of my life. I can’t believe my pause has to last so long. I can’t believe I’m losing years of my life, and even more because of this virus making it more difficult to recover.

I want to travel. Or just wander the airport even- I miss that. I’m feeling so trapped, not really in my house, but in this country. Every day I have this longing to wake up and be somewhere else, somewhere safer, somewhere people care about sick people like me. Somewhere that doesn’t feel worse every day. Somewhere this virus is completely or even mostly gone so I don’t have to be on such high alert, scared and angry all the time.