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mysterytickingegos · 4 years ago

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Ouija Board

Pairing: Ghost!Blank x Reader (Ambiguous)

Genre: Paranormal

Word Count: 1,512

Summary: Sequel to Blank’s Winter Ficlet. After months of Blank poking at your sanity out of boredom, you bring your friends home to get their help, and someone brings a Ouija board into the mix. The day ends with you being left with more questions than answers. (There will probably be another part to this later.)

Anonymous Request: 1. Blankgameplays 2. she/her 3. Platonic/ambiguous 4. Fluff (meet cute, like Blanky Boi is 'haunting' {would you call it haunting? is he even a ghost?} reader's house) Prompt: 63 - Reader: “I don’t believe in ghosts.” Blank: *about to ruin this mans whole career* Please and thank you with extra sprinkles on top ♥ ☆ﾟ.*♥･｡ﾟ♥

Authors Note: First off, to get it out of the way, I was originally using a gif from the tumblr search option, and I removed it when asked. Even though I’ve done so, I can’t remove the reply because they blocked me before I even saw the notification. The gif you should be seeing (if it matches the image description) is one I made myself. Now, onto the important stuff- Oh my god, it is about time I got this done! I’m so sorry it took this long for me to get to it! If it helps in any way I finished this fic with idea’s on continuing it later so...you’ll probably be getting more out of your request than most!

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[Image Description: A gif of Ethan (Crankgameplays) edited to be spooky with multicolored layers. He leans towards the camera and speaks ominously.]

You’d started out with nerves of steel.

Ghosts weren’t real. You knew that.

It’s an old house, and you have an overactive imagination. That’s what you told yourself, over and over again, even once it stopped making sense. But there’s only so many times you can catch things moving on their own, or you could hear that distant voice, before you started to get a little tense. So when you finally hit your limit, you turned to your friends, bringing them to the house in the hopes that they could confirm what you’d been seeing. Or not.

“Okay, before we go in, here’s the plan. We don’t talk about it.” You started, keeping Vi and Eric on the stairs. “Because I think if it knows that I told you about it, it won’t do anything. Like, try to make me look crazy.”

“You do look a little crazy right now.” Violet quipped, nudging you further up the stairs. “Come on, we get it. Act normal, pay attention, let’s get ghost hunting.”

“Ugh, please don’t call it that.” You unlocked the front door, stepping in with your friends following right behind you.

You tossed your keys onto the counter, and the sudden noise was all it took to make Eric yelp. You and Violet both turned to look at him, seeing him cover his face with his hand. “Sorry...”

You sighed, already close to giving up on this plan. You were pretty sure the so-called ghost didn’t even have to do anything. Eric was so nervous and Violet was so excited about this whole thing that they’d probably make up their own ghost story by the time you finished painting the office.

But you trudged forward, bringing them upstairs and getting to work.

You dug your speaker out of the closet, putting some decent music on and leaving it in the corner of the room. Eric pried the paint can open and Violet started lining the room with painting tape. For the first time in a long time, you were all stuck in an uncomfortable silence. waiting for something to happen.

But the day went off without a hitch. It was late in the evening when you finished painting the walls and your friends got ready to leave. “You know, if this was your way of trying to get free labor out of us, fair play to you.” Vi joked, slinging her bag over her shoulders at the door. “But honestly, I’m kind of bummed.”

You shook your head. “I swear I wasn’t, guys. I’m sorry. God, I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

Eric came up behind you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Hey it’s alright, you can- well I mean if you want you can stay with us for-”

Before he could finish, he was interrupted by a small thud and a clattering sound coming from the room right above you, the office. All three of you looked up at the ceiling, then at each other, before making a quick pace back upstairs. You flicked the light back on to see that the half-empty bucket of paint you’d left was now on it’s side, and the color of the floor now matched the walls.

“...Dude, this thing is an asshole.” Vi said bluntly, earning a quiet plea from Eric not to make it mad.

“I knew it! I told you! There’s no way this shit just happens, right?” Despite the fact your floor was ruined, you couldn’t help but get excited. “I mean it’s ridiculous but this happens all the time.”

“Okay, this is going to get even cooler, beeecause...” Vi grinned, pulling her bag back around and digging through it until she found what she was looking for, something wrapped in a beige cloth. “Guess what I brought.”

You watched her unwrap what turned out to be a planchette, which had been wrapped in what turned out to be a cloth Ouija board. Eric coughed nervously, taking a small step back towards the stairs, “I actually uh..I can’t stay, I sort of have a-a doctors appointment! Yeah, that. That’s what I have to get to.”

“It’s seven at night.”

“Yeah, um...it’s therapy. You know, they stay open late and...yeah.” And with that Eric excused himself from any further ‘ghost hunting,’ fleeing out the front door. Before you could also object to the idea of talking to the ghost, Vi grabbed your hand and pulled you along to the living room.

“Do you have any candles?” She asked, kneeling down on the floor and spreading out the Ouija board.

“I have a couple scented candles we could light, I guess...” You shrugged and went around collecting them. You started to say something more but stopped to rethink it. This was ridiculous. Lighting candles for a ouijia board? Acknowledging any of this ghost nonsense felt silly enough to you, just a couple months ago stuff like this was all a big joke to you. But what other explanation could there be for everything you had experienced? Maybe you should have done a bit more research, set up a camera or-

“Y/n?” Vi called out from the floor, pulling you out of your thoughts.

Swallowing your pride, you brought the candles and a matchbox over and kneeled across from her. “So since when are you interested in all this, anyway?”

“What, ghosts and stuff?” She stayed quiet for a moment as she helped you set the candles up on either side of the two of you. “I dunno, I guess I’m just starting to notice that maybe...things aren’t as they seem. Kind of like you. But I actually find it fun. So, are you ready to do this?”

You nodded. “I guess so...” Placing your fingers on the planchette, you took a deep breathe before you started. “Hello?”

“Hello? That’s all you’ve got?”

“Shush.”

“I’m just saying, maybe-” “It’s my house that’s haunted so-”

HELLO

You both fell silent again, glancing up at each other. She looked like she might explode from excitement and you had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. Then, you kept going. “My name is Y/n, this is my friend Violet.”

I K N O W

“What’s your name?”

The planchette began to move again, but this time rather than settle on any letters or even move towards ‘No,’ it moved to a blank patch of the cloth.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you waited for any movement, but it didn’t come. “Do you have a name?”

D O N O T R E M E M B E R

‘Oh.’ You felt a pang in your heart at that.

Vi pouted a little, her head tilting to the side. She was the next to ask something. “What are you?”

G H O S T

“Alright-”

M A Y B E

“...Maybe?”

D O N O T R E M E M B E R

Chills ran down your spine. That was not a comforting thought. “Is there anything else in the house with us?”

“You’ve really been scaring my friend, you know.” Vi said, looking cautiously around the room as she spoke.

I K N O W

It took everything you had to keep your shaking hands on the planchette. “Do you want me to leave?”

Nothing happened. You waited, your heart pounding out of your chest. The sun had officially set, making the house pitch black aside from your little pocket of candlelight. You could almost make out a shadow over the board, it’s source seemingly coming from behind you. You didn’t dare mention it. “Do you want to be alone here again? Because I’d understand that.”

Even more dead silence.

Violet let out a sharp sigh, taking one hand off the planchette, despite your objection, to rub her temple. “Are you still there?”

YES

“I just want to understand why you’re doing this.” You said, much quieter than you meant.

S O R R Y

“You’re sorry?”

S T A Y

“But...what?”

You and Violet sat there for another thirty minutes, asking questions and waiting for answers that never came. The spirit was apparently done talking. “Alright, well...” Violet stood up, putting her bag back on.

“What? Wait, I don’t get any of this. What do I do?” You began to panic, not entirely sure if you should be leaving the board yet.

“You can have the board, keep trying tomorrow, I don’t know. Look-” Her tone was coming off uncharacteristically harsh now, as she avoided your eyes. “My head is splitting, think it’s all the candle fumes. I’m gonna breeze off, good luck though.”

You squinted at the door when it hit you what she said. "Breeze off?” Shaking it off, you turned your attention back to your unusual roommate. “Okay, I’m going to call it a night I guess. I have paint to clean up so,” You moved the planchette to ‘Goodbye,’ taking your hands off and being seconds away from blowing out the candles when it moved all on it’s own.

G O O D N I G H T

#blankgameplays x reader #blankgameplays fanfiction #blankgameplays x you #I wrote this in a burst in one day and if there are typos they are hiding from me

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theworldoffostering · 4 years ago

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E got her expander removed at the orthodontist this week, and had a dentist appointment. DS had a dentist appointment too, and NB had speech therapy. Baby saw the attachment therapist this week, and E has had two sessions of OT. Phew. That’s a lot to fit into one week.

DD officially started her PHP program. It seems like more of what she needs. She met with a doctor first thing (virtually), and she made med changes right away. I think that’s positive based on what we are seeing at home. We’ll see how it goes.

We found a good rate on an extended stay at a hotel in FL. Planning to go but not sure of exact dates. I would like to leave this weekend, but DD has an in-person doctor appointment on Monday so I think the weekend will be a no go. I’m also trying to decide if I can take the kids solo and have DH return to work. I’m not sure about the drive, but I think I could manage once I’m there because some of the kids (two or three) will stay at my parent’s house and I’ll have them around during the day so we can sort of float back and forth between their house and the hotel. I don’t know. Maybe I’m delusional. It helps that nearly everything is virtual these days.

I finally wrapped up the bulk of my grading this week. I still have several small assignments to grade, and loose ends to tie up, but I’m in decent shape to deal with final exams and submit final grades next week.

I’m in a space of uncertainty with DH. He is truly a great person, but something is going on with him, and I truly have no idea how to help which is putting strain on our marriage. The purpose in him taking FMLA this week was so I could have some solid time to focus on work while he does all of the other stuff. We have had daily fights about this because he has not made himself available to take care of stuff at home even though that’s the purpose in him being here. I was on a call today and one of the kids was screaming and I basically said, “Go find your dad.” Apparently DH had left the house and I didn’t even know. He knew I was on the call and knew that he was responsible for taking care of everything while I did the call. Cue a similar scenario happening repeatedly on the daily this week.

What is that? ADHD? I know he’s not intentionally trying to not do something. He’s not mean spirited like that at all. But I am beyond frustrated. I have communicated one need consistently and directly all week-I need to work. Please take over. It’s like he can’t hear me or respond appropriately or doesn’t know what to do or is overwhelmed. I have no idea but it’s sort of disaster making as you may imagine. I’m open to internet advice/words of wisdom. What do you have for me?

I see a therapist for the first time tomorrow. He already has one and a psych so those bases are covered. DH and I have been married ten years and I really want to continue to be married.

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thorne93 · 4 years ago

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The Stars Made Us (Part 19)

Prompt: In this world, you’re one of the “lucky” ones who got a soulmate, but what if the universe gives you more than you bargained for?

(Prompt challenge – You live in a world where your soulmate can write on their skin and you will get the writing on your own and vice versa. Where they can wash away the ink on their own skin, however, the writing is forever scarred onto your skin until you meet face to face)

Word Count: 1625

Warnings: angst and language throughout

Notes: This was supposed to be for @sorryimacrapwriter and their challenge like a year ago, I think? I still loved the prompt though and have been working on this story for quite some time. This aesthetic was made by @quailliamfears thank you so much! Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes, couldn’t have done it without you, as well as @carryonmyswansong and @arrow-guy and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo

Also, I’ve never really liked the whole soulmate AU thing idea, but this felt so right and it was amazing to write. I hope y’all love it too!!

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

“Darling, I miss you,” Charles cooed into the phone. It almost sounded like a plea to come back.

“You’re the one who told me to stay,” you reminded, amused.

“I know, I know. I’m just feeling a bit selfish and greedy is all. How much longer do you think?”

“We still have a long way to go. He’s getting ready to move. All of his things are boxed up. He can’t afford to stay here any more. I’ve temporarily relocated my office to the city.”

There was a pause. “Oh, well, sounds like you’re getting quite cozy down there.”

“It’s not like that, you know that.”

“Actually, I don’t. I know I said you should stay with him, and I still believe that. He’s still your other mate. But right now, none of us know what happens once he’s better.”

You nodded, chewing your lip. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been thinking about that too. But I can’t plan for the future. I am still yours though, I am still all yours. I am in love with you and I won’t make any decision without talking to you.”

He sighed. “I love you too. I know. I’m just… I’m going a bit stir crazy over here. I just got you, after ten years. I just don’t want to lose you to someone else, that’s all.”

“You won’t, you can’t. You’re the most important person in the world to me, darling. You know that.”

He hummed. “Yes, yes I do. Keep in touch. I love you. Despite my flare of jealousy, it’s only rooted in wanting to see you, that’s all. But I do support you.”

“And I’m the luckiest woman in the world for it. Talk to you soon. I love you, bye.”

“Bye.”

With that, you hung up and got Stephen’s bedroom straightened up . He’d be home soon from his physical therapy appointment.

And as if on cue, the door opened to the apartment.

“Y/N!” he called out. “I’m back.”

You came out and greeted him, happy to see him. “How was it?” You began to get his lunch ready as he told you about his appointment.

“It was good, rather informative actually.”

“Oh? That sounds promising.”

Between Christine and Stephen you’d heard all about his expensive, experimental surgeries with no hope in sight. So any time he got good news of any kind, but especially about his hands, you rejoiced. This meant you were a step closer to making him into the man he was before the accident. A man you could possibly fall in love with and then…

Well that remained to be seen, didn’t it?

“The guy who does my therapy told me about a guy who had a shattered spine, confined to a wheelchair. He said he’s walking now. He pulled his file. I looked at the x-rays. He is totally cured. I want to go talk to him, see how he fixed it.”

“Okay, yeah,” you said, trying to wrap your mind around it and put off your astonishment. “Yeah, let’s go meet him.”

The following day, you both planned on going to see the miracle patient but your work called you away. You had a patient have a breakdown at the hospital and you had to meet him. Stephen went alone, and when you met back at the apartment, he told you what he’d found.

“He told me that he sat with a teacher, at a place called Kamar-Taj. He said that he elevated his mind and spirit and it healed his body.”

You stared at him in disbelief. “Really? A healer? That was the big miracle?”

“Yes. He said the cost is high, but you don’t pay a dime of money. It must just be some advanced medicine that is hard on the body, that’s experimental.”

“And you want to go there?” you asked, curious.

He scoffed. “Please. Some kind of crazy healer? Are you kidding me?”

“No, I’m not. Stephen, you love your work, so far you’ve stopped at nothing to get better. While I believe this is a bit of mania on your part, I also completely understand where you’re coming from. So if you want to do this as a last resort, I don’t blame you.”

“It’s not that bad of an idea…”

You shook your head. “No, it’s not. At any rate, what have you to lose?”

“So you think I should go? To see some strange witch doctor?”

You peered at him with a bemused grin. “Between the two of us, who believes in the love that binds two peoples souls?”

He made a face and rolled his eyes. “Right, I forgot.”

“It can’t hurt. Every other doctor has slammed the door in your face for the same reasons you used too -- you’re untreatable and that harms their reputation. No glory to heal what can’t be healed, and you can’t waste time trying. If this place really did fix this guy, then I think you should do it.”

You could almost hear the gears in his head turning.

“Alright. Yeah, let’s do it. You’re right. I don’t have anything to lose at this point. I’ll start looking into how to get there. You may want to tell Charles you’re coming home,” he informed as he walked over to his laptop.

“Oh, I’m not going home. No, if you’re going on this little adventure, I’m coming too. You can’t be alone. You’re still highly depressed and you need me.”

“Wow, and they say I’m arrogant,” he remarked with a smirk that made your knees weak

“You are. I’m just confident.” You winked at him. You told him you’d call Charles once you found out where you two would be traveling to.

You went into the small office that was now empty except for the furniture. The sight made you sad for Stephen. You called Charles, knowing he wouldn’t be thrilled, but would probably be accepting of the issue.

“Hello, love,” he greeted happily.

“Hi, darling. Um, we have some news,” you announced.

“Oh?” he asked, sounding intrigued.

“Yeah, so apparently Stephen met up with a patient that had a spinal fracture completely corrected. He sought him out and told him of a place to go.”

“What? Like some experimental clinic or?”

“Not quite. We’ve found that the place should be in Nepal, possibly Kathmandu.”

Silence fell over the line. “Nepal? And when are you leaving?”

“As soon as we can. The movers come tomorrow to take his things to his new place.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“I have no idea. Just like I had no idea how long I’d be there with you,” you reminded.

He sighed. “Y/N…”

“What?” you wondered, “I know this isn’t what we wanted or expected--”

“No, it isn’t. I don’t ever want to tell you what you can and can’t do, that’s why I gave you my blessing to go, but has it crossed your mind that this affects me too?”

“Of course it has. I think about you nonstop when I’m not helping Stephen. You know he’s my other mate. He’s just as damaged as you were, you were the one to remind me of that. I can’t half-ass my work on him, not as a doctor or as a mate.”

“Meanwhile, I’m feeling like an afterthought.”

You let out a sigh. “That's not fair, Charles. I don’t mean for you to feel that way, I’m sorry. But at the same time, you and I had ten years together through communication, and almost a year together in person. Stephen and I, we’ve only known each other a month. Not only do I need more time to help him heal, we deserve the time. I’ll come by in the morning to grab some things and my passport.”

“So this is it? You’re just going to run off and join him in some country?”

“How is this any different than when I came to you when you needed help? I’m either here in Manhattan or in Nepal.”

“It’s very different, Y/N. Right now you’re only a couple hours away. You go to Nepal with a TBD return date, it… it puts me on edge.”

You pursed your lips. “I’m sorry… But I have to go. He needs me.”

“I need you too, you know.”

“And I will be there for you as soon as I finish helping Stephen.”

“Will you, though? There’s always the chance that you may not come back to me.”

“Is that what you’re worried about? That I’ll somehow love him more than you? Or that this trip will somehow make me choose him over you?”

“Or that you spending the next unforeseeable future with him in a foreign country will make you fall for him, if you haven’t already.”

“Charles--”

“No, hear me out, Y/N. You and I were basically pen pals for years, and we just met a year ago. You two, you’re going to practically live together on the first part of finding out you’re mates. It’ll be organic, it’ll be natural.”

A sigh escaped you. “Charles, I can’t tell you what’s going to happen or not happen. All I can assure you is that I love you more than anything. And should something happen, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. But this is important to him, and important to me. I trust you to understand and respect that.”

“I do… I love you. Do whatever you feel you need to, darling. As always, I’ll be here waiting.”

“You’re perfect, Charles Xavier, I hope you know that.”

“I do, but it’s nice to hear you say that.”

You laughed loudly and told him you loved him and you two said your goodbyes.

Next stop, Nepal.

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

Forever Tag:

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@magpiegirl80

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

@iamwarrenspeace

@marvel-imagines-yes-please

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Charles Xavier

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TSMU

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@halfofwhatisayismeaningless

#the stars made us #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange fic #stephen strange #charles xavier #charles xavier fic #charles xavier x reader

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 4 years ago

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If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Seventeen

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

September 13th, 1985

Remy laid back on his bed, studying the cracks in the paint on his ceiling. He wanted to sleep, but he was finding it hard without his blanket. He’d had it for as long as he could remember, but his parents had hidden it away somewhere today, and they had refused to give it back. He had begged, he had offered to do anything for its return, but still they refused. And when he was left on his own, he had cried.

He grabbed Bones and snuggled the dog close to his chest. At least he still had Bones, he definitely didn’t want Bones to be taken away, ever ever ever. Next to his blanket, Bones was his biggest sense of comfort. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep. Sooner or later, it had to work, and then maybe tomorrow he could set out in search of his blanket.

January 3rd, 2001

Remy had few rules in his life that he would not listen to, and even fewer that he would discard entirely. And rule number one, that he had made when a young kid, ignored time and time again, only to get hurt, time and time again, was “don’t get attached.” Don’t get attached to that toy, Mom and Dad will take it when they think you’ve outgrown it. Don’t get attached to that animal, its owner will eventually have to take it home and Mom and Dad would never let you get a pet of your own. Don’t get attached to people, if you think you’ve made friends with them they’ll crush your very soul when you least expect it and Mom and Dad will say it’s your own fault.

He had been pretty good at following that rule starting in high school, but even then, he only lasted three and a half years with that rule before he had realized he’d thrown it out the window. Emile came along, and he got attached. Worse, he got friendly. He couldn’t imagine what his past self would say to him right now, but he knew it would be something along the lines of being an idiot.

And now, he was breaking another one of those rules, which was “tell no one.” Because here he was, spilling his guts out to Kim, explaining how he had grown attached to Emile and how he didn’t even realize how much the man meant to him until their first therapy appointment and what Emile had said afterwards. “...And I guess it’s a good thing, you know? Most people would say that it’s good I’ve made a friend, and that I want to make more friends, even if it’s just so I can have a safety net. But in my past experiences, friends have only ever tried to hurt me, sooner or later.” Remy scratched the back of his neck. “I still don’t even know why I’m explaining this to you, because one of my other things was that I didn’t want to tell anyone about this. They’d see it as a ‘problem,’ when it’s not. It’s just how I live.”

Kim sat there and nodded as Remy talked, and when his hands fell back into his lap, which they had both realized meant he was done talking, Kim spoke. “Different people certainly do have different ways of living, Remy, but humans are social animals. We need other people around us, who know us, and who can interact with us, if we want to stay stable.”

“Everyone says that, but there are days where I find that so hard to believe. Humans are cruel, we hurt each other for sport, and laugh when someone cries over something, and we’re often forced to hide parts of ourselves we don’t want to be mocked for, because being mocked is a genuine concern,” Remy said. “And, like, I know Emile won’t hurt me. At least, not on purpose. But I don’t know if that’s the case for anyone else, not for sure. I don’t want to put myself out there only to get crushed again.”

“And yet you still want friends?” Kim asked.

Remy nodded with a sigh. “I want to skip past the rocky part where you don’t know much about each other and just know right off the bat if I can trust them or not. But I’m not the best judge of character.”

“And every relationship has that rocky part. From what you’ve told me you and Emile had quite a bit of clashing at the beginning of your friendship?” Kim asked.

“Yeah. Mostly because of me. I’d do something that hurt his feelings, or else I’d just try and push him away so I could be alone, but he didn’t give up. He kept trying to talk to me. And eventually I gave in, and he’s a good guy,” Remy said. He shrugged. “I got lucky. He wasn’t trying to get close to me to exploit me.”

“Is that how you see most people? Out to exploit you?”

Remy shrugged. “I mean, I guess. That’s how it was in the past at least, you know? And people don’t really change all that much, unless they make an active effort. And I never saw any effort from them.”

“You’ve never seen what these potential friends might have been doing by themselves to make them better people, either,” Kim pointed out. “Just because it doesn’t happen when you’re around doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen.”

“I know that,” Remy sighed. “But it seems...insincere.”

Kim pursed her lips. “You know, Remy, there’s not much else I can say except to tell you that you’re going to have to take those chances in your life. And yes, there are going to be times where you’re going to make mistakes, or misjudge someone, or say something you shouldn’t have. But that’s not a good reason to not take a chance. College students are much more forgiving than high school kids, I’ve found. You might find that more people are like Emile.”

“No one’s like Emile,” Remy said. “He’s a beast unto his own. No mere mortal would be able to get me in this seat.”

Kim laughed, and Remy smirked. “Well, we do crazy things for the people we love. And obviously, it doesn’t have to be romantic love, either.”

Remy agreed quietly. “I’m...I’m coming to terms with that one, at least. That you don’t have to love someone romantically to do kind things for or with them.”

“Did your family not do those things with you?” Kim asked. “Because that outlook is typically not something one has to learn.”

Remy laughed, a harsh and bitter sound. “That’s a good one, my family doing kind things for me. Toby might have, but Mom and Dad? Didn’t remember that I existed half the time.”

Kim frowned. “They neglected you?”

“I mean, I don’t know.” Remy shrugged. “They made sure that at the end of the day I had food, and water, and a place to sleep.”

“But did they hug you? Did they give you reassurance when you were hurt? Did they make sure your emotional needs were met?” Kim asked.

“What...what are emotional needs?” Remy asked. “I don’t...because we weren’t very touchy-feely in my house, but...”

“Emotional needs are things such as feeling safe, feeling loved, feeling special in someone’s eyes,” Kim said. “Physical touch can be one way to express love, but you don’t need to hug someone all the time in order for them to help you meet your emotional needs.”

“Uh...” Remy wracked his brain for something to say that wouldn’t sound bad. “I mean...my brother...Toby would help me with those.”

“But not your parents?” Kim asked.

Remy inwardly cursed himself. “Does it really matter who’s meeting those needs, so long as they’re met?”

“Yes,” Kim said. “Your brother should not have had the responsibility of taking care of you.”

“Well, he didn’t—”

“—Emotionally, Remy. Taking care of someone physically or emotionally should not fall on a siblings shoulders, especially when that sibling is a child themselves. That was your parents’ responsibility. One which, evidently, they neglected.”

Remy swallowed. “It wasn’t that bad...other people have had it way worse than me...”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean that what you experienced wasn’t bad,” Kim gently said.

Remy looked around, and saw their time was almost up. “Uh, quick question before I go...”

“Yes?” Kim asked.

“How do I...explain this to Emile? Like, he asks me about our sessions, and I share whatever I’m comfortable with, but if I...if I don’t want to unload all this trauma on him so I don’t hurt him, but I do want to share the concept...how do I do that?” Remy asked.

“Introduce the subject, either off-hand or outright, depending on what you think Emile would prefer,” Kim said. “Once you give him the basics, allow him to ask his questions. You obviously don't have to answer any of them, but he won’t ask a question that he isn’t comfortable hearing the answer with. He’ll make sure you’re not overstepping his boundaries by stopping you if he gets uncomfortable, and not asking questions that may upset him in the first place.”

“That’s it?” Remy asked dubiously.

“That’s it,” Kim said.

Remy leaned back in his seat. “...Why does that feel so obvious in retrospect?”

“Hindsight is often twenty-twenty vision,” Kim said with a regretful smile.

Remy sighed. “I should have known all this stuff already,” he groaned.

“I won’t say that you shouldn’t have,” Kim said. “But I will say that you didn’t. No one was there to teach you. And while the best time to plant a tree may have been twenty years ago, the second best time is today.”

“What does that even mean?” Remy asked.

“You may have been ‘supposed’ to have learned this already, but you didn’t. So the next best thing to learning it back then is learning it now,” Kim explained.

“Oh. That makes sense, I guess,” Remy said with a shrug.

Kim smiled at him. “One thing at a time, Remy, remember? That’s what we’re working on. Find one thing to focus on and work through that. Don’t let all your worries overwhelm you.”

Remy nodded, they both stood, and Remy walked out to find Emile waiting, as per usual. “Hey, how’d it go?” he asked.

“Pretty well, I think,” Remy said. “I’m realizing some stuff about my family.”

Emile stiffened, but Remy pretended not to notice. “Oh?” Emile asked.

“Yeah,” Remy said as they moved through the parking lot. “Apparently my parents could be considered emotionally neglectful. Which I didn’t even realize was a thing.”

Emile blinked. Remy looked him over. “You okay?” he asked.

“There are days where I would absolutely kill your family in a heartbeat,” Emile replied.

“Don’t kill Toby, at least, he did a lot of the stuff my parents didn’t. And he didn’t have to, he did it because he thought it was the right thing to do,” Remy said.

“It was the right thing to do, but it shouldn’t have been his responsibility,” Emile said. “Nor should it have been yours.”

Remy sighed. “Yeah. I know. But at least I had someone looking out for me, you know?”

“Too small a consolation, in my opinion,” Emile said, practically snarling. “What kind of parents would do that?”

Remy felt nausea build in his stomach. “Hey, listen, they weren’t all bad, Emile.”

“Right,” Emile said, voice dripping sarcasm. “Because people responsible for child neglect must have some redeeming qualities, like kicking puppies or tax evasion!”

“Emile!” Remy exclaimed. “That’s crossing a line!”

Emile was shaking. He ran his hands through his hair. “I can’t...I can’t believe that they would do that to you, Rem. I just can’t. It’s cruel and unusual, and it’s not fair at all to you. You deserve to have parents who love you. Who respect you. Who treat you like a human being.”

“They did treat me like a human being,” Remy said.

Emile silently got in the car.

Remy turned red and got in the passenger seat. “Emile. I haven’t judged you or any of your quirks in a while. Because that crosses a line for you. Well, you talking about my family, and my parents like that crosses a line for me. They weren’t the best, and yeah, I’ve cut contact with them for the time being while I can get my bearings back, but you bashing them isn't going to endear me to you any!”

Emile gripped the steering wheel tight as he started to drive. “Remy...I’m trying real hard to bite my tongue right now. I want to respect your wishes. But what you're saying is making me angry. You shouldn’t have to defend your parents. Because they shouldn’t have to be brought into question over this in the first place. But they are. Just...let me be mad.”

Remy sat there in stunned silence. “I’ll let you be mad, but I disagree with you.”

“I’ll allow that,” Emile said. “So long as you allow me to blow off steam once we get home.”

“Of course,” Remy said.

Emile nodded, and they drove the rest of the way back to their apartment in silence.

#if there's a place i could be #sanders sides fanfiction #remile #emile picani #ts sleep

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lindalevanimamm · 4 years ago

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Reality- Chapter 16

My first therapy appointment was good. I think they’re a good fit for me, and can help me get better. It’s been a few weeks now that I’ve started going. I’m doing my best to change my thinking and get better, I’ve also started on some medication, which helps. Most days I do fine, but the thoughts get worse at night. I’ve been trying different things to do at night to get rid of the thoughts. As bad as I feel, there is one person that I want to see in this universe as soon as I can other than Saeyoung of course. It’s Yoosung. I sent him a text asking if he wanted to come over tomorrow, or meet somewhere, and see me. I didn’t get a reply for a while, which wasn’t that unusual. I figured he was just playing LOLOL so I went to sleep. I woke up and checked my phone. Yoosung had sent a one word reply, which was even more unusual. Normally he would reply and I could tell how excited he was, but all he sent was ‘sure’. I frowned. Did I do something wrong? Maybe I shouldn’t have come back...does he not want to see me anymore? Thankfully, my train of thoughts was interrupted by Saeyoung knocking softly on my door, before coming in. He noticed my frown immediately. “Good morning! Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Oh yeah, just Yoosung seems a bit off today. I asked if he wanted to meet up and he only said sure,” I paused. This doesn’t sound too needy or something does it? It’s Saeyoung, you’re fine. “Normally he would have been more excited…”

“Oh.” Saeyoung scratched the back of his head. “I guess he didn’t tell you?” I looked up at Saeyoung.

“Tell me what?” I asked, concerned.

“I don’t know the whole thing, but do you remember that girl he liked?” I nodded. “Well, they got together for a while there, but she broke it off...I think it upset him a lot,” Saeyoung finished. I nodded my head again. Wow, I didn’t know that...he must have been heart broken...and I wasn’t there for him. I should have been there for him, I should have tried to get here sooner instead of moping around. “Breakfast is ready!” I heard Saeran yell from the kitchen.

“Guess that’s our cue!” Saeyoung said as he walked out. I got out of bed and put some clothes on before heading to the kitchen. The twins have started to let me be alone for longer since I’m doing better. I had a lot of really bad days at first. Days where I felt like a piece of trash and wanted nothing more than to disappear, but I’ve been working hard to get better. I’m sure the medication has helped as well. My emotions overall seem more muted though, I’m never really happy or really sad now...I’m not sure that I like it. But it’s keeping me alive so I’ll stay on it. I walked out to the kitchen and sat down with the twins to eat. Soon after we were done eating, Yoosung arrived. I answered the door with a smile. “Yoosung! I missed you!” I said while hugging him. He did seem less energetic, which worried me. I want to make sure he doesn’t get to where I was. He hugged back and smiled. “It’s good to have you back,” he told me. I broke the hug and smiled at him.

“Do you wanna go somewhere? We can stay here too,” I asked.

“Here is fine,” he said with a smile. But I knew that smile, it was the same smile I used to give. It’s not a real one. I decided I’d do my best to try to cheer him up. I pulled him into the living room and set up our game console to play some games. We played for hours, losing track of time. I think he had fun, I did. We laughed and yelled. Saeran passed by us a few times and reminded us to eat and things, which we pretty much ignored. I was starving, so we decided to stop playing when I got an idea. “I have a good idea!” I announced it to Yoosung.

“What?” he asked. I smiled, jumped off the couch, and lifted a finger into the air.

“I think we should get Saeyoung to order us pizza!” I watched Yoosung think about it.

“Sure ok,” he finally answered. I smiled. I ran to Saeyoung’s office, he had told me he had work to catch up on. I peeked in and saw him, he didn’t notice me, so I shut the door and ran back out to the living room. I searched the living room for my weapon of choice, before I finally found it. A new nerf gun I was waiting for the perfect opportunity to use. I grabbed another and handed it to Yoosung, who looked confused. “Here,” I told him.

“(Y/N) what is this?” he asked.

“A nerf gun duh.”

“No what am I supposed to do with it?”

“Uh, shoot it. It’s a nerf gun. This will be a funner way of asking Saeyoung.” I replied. I crouched down and began to make my way to his office, Yoosung following behind. We acted like spies as we made our way there. I made sure to roll across the hallway for an added effect. It apparently wasn’t as smooth as I thought it was because Yoosung started laughing at me. I responded by shushing him, telling him Saeyoung would hear. We finally made it to the door. I slowly opened it, just enough to fit the nerf guns in and for us to see. I looked at Yoosung and nodded. I softly counted down from three, and we shot. Saeyoung’s reaction was hilarious. He jumped and fell out of this office chair, screaming. Just as he was starting to get up to figure out what was happening, I ran in and tackled him to the ground. I put the nerf gun in his face and yelled, “Yoosung and I demand pizza or else we will take you out agent 707!” Yoosung began to laugh.

“I don’t think you can take me out, I’ve got a few moves,” Saeyoung played along.

“Not from my point of view. You have no other choices but to order pizza and for me, Yoosung, you, and Saeran to have a pizza night,” I seriously told him, moving the nerf gun even closer to him. Saeyoung sighed.

“Alright, fine. Sounds good to me.” I smiled and got off of him, going in for a high five with Yoosung. “Mission accomplished,” I told him. He laughed. A few minutes later, the pizza arrived. The four of us ate and talked. I think my plan is working...Yoosung seems to be enjoying himself. Now for phase two, get him to stay and talk. Phase two began sooner than I expected. Yoosung checked the time and sighed. “I should get going. Thank you (Y/N) for today, I’m really happy that you’re back,” he began. I frowned and gave him my best puppy eyes.

“Awww, Yoosung you don’t have to go so soon! I think you should stay the night!” I begged. “It’ll be fun~” I tried. I watched him think. He looked over at Saeyoung, probably wondering how upset he would be if he stayed. Saeyoung and I had been spending a lot of time together, I wasn’t sure if we were even official. It felt like we were, and I guess that’s why Yoosung was worried, but Yoosung is my good friend! I looked at Saeyoung and mouthed “please” to him. Saeyoung smiled and nodded at Yoosung. Yoosung finally gave in. “Okay, I guess I can.” I yelled with excitement, making the others laugh. It was kind of weird, being myself around people. Normally, my anxiety would have kept me quiet, just nodding and agreeing with Yoosung and letting him leave. I would have gone to sleep tonight, wondering why I did what I did. Yoosung and I continued our game. Once again losing track of time, before Saeyoung came in and told us he was off to sleep. About an hour after, we decided we should stop. Yoosung refused to sleep anywhere but the couch, so I decided it was now or never to ask him what was going on with him, but he beat me to it. “(Y/N) can I ask you something?” he turned to look at me. I nodded. “What happened when you were gone? You seem...different. Not in a bad way, you just seem to be more of yourself.” I sighed. I should be honest with him, I trust him.

“Well, a lot happened. When I woke up in my universe, I knew something was wrong. I tried for a while to figure out what had happened and how I could get back. I had no luck though. I started to feel abandoned and like everything was my fault. I felt hopeless, alone, scared. Then it all, uh, became too much I guess. I stopped leaving my bed. I stopped caring. I wanted to stop living,” I paused. This is hard to say. “So I did it. I tried to stop living…” I mumbled. “But Saeyoung and Saeran got there in time to stop me...so I’m still here.” I turned to look at him. I couldn’t tell how he was feeling. He seemed shocked, but understanding.

“I’m sorry,” he began. “But I’m really glad you didn’t succeed. It must have been hard, waking up and not knowing what had happened.” I nodded.

“It was. Saeyoung has been taking me to see a therapist though, and I’ve started taking medication. Both him and Saeran had been by my side 24/7 to make sure I didn’t try anything again. They’ve started letting me be alone more though. It’s kinda weird actually. I wanted nothing more than to just disappear, to stop being a burden, to not exist. I wanted that for a while, at least deep down. But, it got worse when I was in that universe. Now that desire, it’s going away. I want to see tomorrow. I want to live. It feels weird, but I’m happy.” I finished. I let Yoosung process what I had said and we sat in silence for a bit. After a few moments, Yoosung leaned over to give me a hug.

“I’m so glad you didn’t leave me. I was so worried about you when I found out you were sent back. I was afraid we would lose you, that I would lose you. You’re the only person I’ve ever considered a best friend, besides the RFA. I don’t want to lose you. You’re not a burden. I love you (Y/N),” he paused for a moment. “Love as in a platonic way of course, I’d never want to get between you and Saeyoung. Strict platonic love here.” I laughed.

“I know what you mean Yoosung. I love you too. I’m so lucky to have a friend like you.” I broke the hug and looked at him, he looked even more sad now. “What’s going on with you?” I asked him, my voice just above a whisper. “We promised each other we would tell each other how we feel.” Yoosung nodded. I watched a tear fall from his face, and my heart broke.

“Well, you remember the girl I liked right?” I nodded. “Well, we were together for a bit, but she broke up with me. When I found out you were sent to your universe, I immediately jumped in to help get you back. I guess it upset her though, and I kinda ignored her. She said I was too obsessed with another woman and I had no reason to be when she was right here. She thought I was stupid or something I guess...I guess I should have spent more time with her, but I was worried about you. I guess she thought I didn’t like her or something. I don’t know, I didn’t know what to do! I just wanted to make sure that you were safe, and I guess she took it the wrong way. I tried to explain it to her, that you’re a close friend, but she didn’t listen,” Yoosung began to sob. This was really affecting him, but I guess it was probably his first relationship. His first relationship that was messed up by me… I hugged Yoosung, and comforted him until his crying slowed.

“I’m sorry,” I began. “I guess it’s kind of my fault this happened. But I think that girl should have been more understanding. I would have done the same for you, and I’m pretty sure Saeyoung wouldn’t break up with me over that. You deserve better. You’re a great person Yoosung. And I know it hurts now, but you did nothing wrong. You were only trying to help a friend, and it shouldn’t have mattered that that friend was a girl. She took it too far. There will be someone else, I promise.” Yoosung nodded. The two of us feel asleep, once again, together, on Saeyoung’s couch. All I wanted was to make sure Yoosung wouldn’t get to the same place I was in.

I woke up early, uncomfortable from the position I was in. The couch wasn’t all that comfortable. I looked up and saw that Yoosung was still asleep, so I carefully got up to go get ready. I almost screamed when I looked over and saw Saeran. “Sorry,” he mumbled. He looked embarrassed, and also confused. I guess he probably saw that I fell asleep with Yoosung, and I know that looks weird when I’m with Saeyoung. I think we’re together. I don’t know. “You’re fine. You just scared me. Yes, I know this looks very weird, but Yoosung was crying last night after telling me about his break up. We are just friends, both of us know that and are okay with it,” I told Saeran. He nodded, before deciding it was best to go back to his room. I turned to walk down the hallway, and almost ran face first into Saeyoung. He stopped me from running into him, putting both of his hands on my shoulders. “Morning!” he said.

“Good morning, sorry about that. I didn’t sleep well,” I told him.

“Mmm, was the couch not comfy enough?” he asked. My eyes went wide. So he definitely saw that, uh what do I say.

“Uh, it was, I mean, that wasn’t what it looked like. We both know we’re just friends and it was just that he was sobbing and I didn’t want to just ditch him, so I, well we, just kinda fell asleep, and-” I rambled.

“Relax (Y/N), I know, it’s fine. I was just messing with you,” Saeyoung interrupted. My face felt hot and I knew I was probably blushing from being embarrassed. I sighed.

“Okay, yeah...sorry. I’m going to go get ready,” I mumbled. Saeyoung laughed and let me through. I got in the shower and thought...not a good thing. I should have taken my medicine before I got in, but I didn’t think about it. I completely ruined Yoosung’s relationship. I shouldn’t have gotten drunk and said all of that that night...I shouldn’t have made him worry. I could have tried harder to get back. I could have done something, anything. Now he’s completely heartbroken, all just because he was trying to help me. He was trying to save me. I shouldn’t have needed saving. I just burdened him more. If I wasn’t such a burden, he wouldn’t have worried and his relationship would have been fine. I broke his heart basically. I hurt him, my first friend. I noticed my thoughts spiraling and got out of the shower. I quickly got dressed and walked out to the kitchen. Yoosung was up, and eating with Saeran at the table. I put on a smile and walked over to Saeyoung, who was conveniently not sitting at the table yet. When I walked over, he smiled. I smiled and then reminded him that I needed to take my medicine. The twins didn’t trust me with it alone, obviously, so they kept it hidden. “Oh right, yeah. Hang on,” Saeyoung said while walking away. He came back with the medicine, which I quickly took. I ate breakfast with everyone and talked, but my thoughts were eating me alive. I tried to ignore them, but I couldn't stop thinking about how it was my fault Yoosung got his heart broken. Yoosung left after breakfast, and I ended up in my room. Throughout the day I tried different exercises my therapist gave to me, and other things to distract myself. None of it worked. I felt awful. I eventually gave up and just laid in my bed, curled up in my blankets. I always do this. I always make people disappointed, or sad, and I hurt them. I should stop being a burden. I should stop trying, people would be happier without my existence. I eventually fell asleep, tired of thinking. I woke up hours later, I checked my phone. It was already 8pm. I got up and made my way to the kitchen for some water. The lights were all off on this floor of the bunker, so I assumed Saeran had gone to the basement for the night, and Saeyoung was probably working. I grabbed a glass and filled it. It’s my fault. I chugged the water and went back to my room. The thoughts flooded my head again. Why isn’t the medicine working? I began to cry. It had been a while since I had done so.

Some time later, I heard a soft knock at my door. I quickly wiped my nose and face, and sat up as Saeyoung opened the door. “You’re up,” Saeyoung stated. He got closer, and then noticed the state I was in. “What’s wrong?” he asked, sitting on my bed. I thought about what I should tell him. It’s stupid really, but I decided to be honest.

“It’s all my fault,” I sniffed.

“What is?” he asked.

“It’s my fault Yoosung’s girlfriend broke up with him. It’s my fault for making everyone worry and everything,” I told him. I looked away and tried to keep tears from falling.

“No it’s not,” Saeyoung began. “That girl wasn’t good for him anyway, she shouldn’t have broken up with him for that. It’s not your fault.” Saeyoung came closer and wrapped his arms around me. I began to cry again. Eventually, the two of us ended up side by side. I listened to his heart beat as I tried to calm down. “You’re not a burden to me (Y/N),” Saeyoung suddenly whispered. “How could you be a burden if I love you?” he asked.

“By being a burden and making you do too much for me,” I responded.

“Well I don’t think so. You’re you, and I love you for that,” he stated. I eventually fell asleep again, thankful that someone was there to remind me that I was loved. “Thank you for telling me this. Everyone has bad days, but I’lll be here for all of them,” I head Saeyoung whisper as I fell asleep.

#saeyoung choi #saeyoung choi x reader #707 #707 x reader #mystic messenger #fanfic

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joshslater · 5 years ago

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The Reformatory

A rewrite of jd07201990′s swimmer story. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

T -1

Dear diary or however you are supposed to start.

So tomorrow is the big day. Dad and I are sleeping at a Holiday Inn at the other side of the state. Well, I'm obviously not sleeping. How could I? So I thought I should start a journal of some sort to document this experience.

Some background. Two months ago I was in a fight with Mark Samberg on the football team. It had gotten pretty bad between the football schmucks and us swimmers. The jockheads were constantly harassing us, calling us fags and prissy boys. It happened often and was getting boring. As the captain of the swim team I asked Mark to knock it off and get his players in line. Idiot as he is he tried to knock me out instead, and I lost it. In our scramble I managed to knock him down and was about to kick him in the shin when he shifted and instead I connected with his knee. Apparently it fractured. He'll be able to walk and even run, but he'll not be able to play again for years, so he lost his Scholarship.

His family sued everyone they could. Me, the school, the swim coach. In the end all the lawyers sat down in a room with a local judge and came up with something they all could agree to. Mark gets some study assistance to get his grades up, the school had this quickly brushed under the carpet, and could pretend I was never student there. Me not graduating wasn’t really a blow, as my college fund now went to pay for Mark’s education, as compensation. They were rich enough to afford it anyway, but they wanted to see punishment. I get the honor to spend the next 180 days at the Lepinski Adolescence Reformation Center, where I will "participate in all scheduled exercises, activities, therapies, meals and medication programs". They can tack on some extra days for bad behavior without going back to the judge, but essentially I get 6 months at bad boy camp for standing up to bullies.

What will I do there? No idea. The website talks a lot about work ethics and responsibility and working together with the local community. Sounds like labor camp to me. I'll guess we'll know tomorrow. But first we have to visit the hospital for a check up. My first day in prison will mostly not be in prison!

Day 1, Monday

We started with a checkup at the hospital, and man did they do a thorough job. Our appointment was at 10, but before that I had to fill out a form with 100 questions. The doctor spent more than 30 minutes doing the most extensive check I've ever had. Not only that, but after the check we had to go to the sample lab to draw blood, and finally I had a CT scan at noon. After that, and a quick lunch, we drove to the actual reformation center, which was in a smaller town 2 hours away.

It's an old boarding school building that they've turned into this "Reformation Center", and it clearly looks more like a prison than a school. Just a heap of two story brick and concrete buildings out in nowhere. Not much of security, but then everyone was there "voluntarily", meaning that we all had a proper punishment waiting for us if we left. I hugged dad goodbye and was shown to Mr. Kerwin’s office by the entrance guard.

Mr. Kerwin was a lean, ripped man in his forties that oozed military discipline. He explained that he was responsible for my rehabilitation and that he wouldn't start soft. He would give me a packed schedule, and if I didn't pull my weight he would add more days for "noncompliance". If I didn't like it I could run back to judge Stephenson and ask to start over in juvie.

Perhaps that would be better, because the schedule he showed me was totally insane.

4:30-5:00 Breakfast 5:00-8:00 Exercise pass 1 8:00-12:00 Work pass 1 12:00-12:30 Lunch 12:30-14:30 School 14:30-17:30 Work pass 2 17:30-18:00 Dinner 18:00-21:00 Exercise pass 2 21:30 Lights out

He explained that my breakfast, lunch and dinner would be pre-portioned and I was required to eat all of it. The exercise passes would be lead by himself or one of the assistants. Again, I would have to follow every instruction. The work passes were done at local businesses that wanted an extra hand, and changed depending on demand. The school passes were done as a group on whatever subject Mr. Reed selected.

Next he ordered me to get naked and place all my clothes on top of my bag and move to the other side of the room. Having done so he pointed at a stack of clothes on the table and told me to pick my size and get dressed. I quickly dressed in one of the track suits from the table. There was a baseball cap also, which confused me, but was told that it was instead of sunglasses when working outdoor.

With that I was given a rule book to study and was led by an assistant to my room where a dinner was waiting. Turkey, rice, water. I was reminded of lights out at 21:30 and wake up at 4:30. The assistant left and locked the door. 10 minutes later he came back with my journal book and pen, and told me that they'll keep the rest for now.

Having eaten the dinner and having three hours (I'm almost sure 21:30 is 9:30 PM) to kill before the lights go out I'm now summarizing the day. I'm sitting in something very similar to a prison cell. Bed, toilet, sink. Everything is clean, though somewhat worn. Looking into the mirror is kind of depressing though. I look like some jailed gang member.

It's kind of weird that I haven't met any of the other inmates, sorry students, here. I saw some of them while coming in, but perhaps this is their kind of hazing, or they do an official presentation tomorrow. Anyway, I should study the rule book and go to bed, since I didn't sleep much last night.

Day 2, Tuesday

So much to write about, so little time. I might have to split this into several entries since lights out is in 20 minutes.

I was awaken at 4:30 and given a tray with a large bowl of porridge and berries and some chalky smoothie or shake or whatever to drink. After that an assistant lead me to the gym room where we went over various machines, mainly for cardio. Elliptical, bike, treadmill. Weird thing was that it was only us two in the room during all three hours.

Sweaty and a bit tired I was then taken outside to a bus where some of the other boys where chilling. Apparently everyone else had breakfast between 7 and 8. They had no idea why I didn't join them there. The bus then drove around town and the driver announced who should exit where. My group of four people exited at a farm before town, only about 5 minutes away. I don't know exactly since I haven't been given my watch back.

There we spent hours just moving hay. Don't they know about tractors? Sweaty, itchy, tired and hungry we were then picked up and driven back. At lunch was the first time I saw the real common area. To my surprise there were more boys there than had been on the bus.

Everyone else could pick what they wanted from what was served, but I was given a ready tray with an heap of salmon and pasta. I was starving though, so it wasn't a problem to eat it all. I didn't have much time to talk, but the guys at my table were nice. Somewhat rough, as could be expected. Apparently you were chosen for the different work assignments, and if you were not picked you stayed at the center for sports or craft or similar things.

After Lunch followed a session with Mr. Reed. The first boring hour was on English grammar and the second boring hour on US geography. I aced the quizz getting all 50 states and state capitols right, so I didn't learn anything new after that. Then Mr. Reed announced who had work assignments, and I was again selected.

This time I and Troy were dropped off at a different farm where we spent almost three hours helping with fencing. Mainly carry posts and sawing them to length.

For dinner I had some meatballs with roasted sweet potatoes while everyone else had meatballs with tomato sauce. Mr. Kerwin picked me up and led me to the gym. Unlike the morning session this was all about weight training. Most of it was on finding my limits for different exercises while Mr. Kerwin pointed out how I could improve my form. You could tell that this was what he liked to do, and encouraged me to push a bit further. Once we were done I had a bottle of post workout mix of some sort and a very quick shower before rushing back to my room.

Here's the thing. My room is on a different floor than the other guys. Also, my schedule appears to be different and much more rigid than the rest of the guys. I also

Day 3, Wednesday

I couldn't finish the last entry before they cut the light. My entire body is in pain right now. I woke up like that, and it didn't go away all day. Same schedule as yesterday, but different tasks and different dishes. The assistant really pushed today during the morning session, so I was exhausted already at the bus. Planting bushes at the city park all morning didn't help. I got some rest during Reeds rehash of elementary math. Then back to doing fences, and top it all off with weight training. I asked Mr. Kerwin about the schedule and why it was so different from everyone else’s. He said that everyone's schedule is individual and that he'll adjust mine as needed.

One more weird thing before I fall to sleep. Everyone else is using their normal clothes. I haven't gotten mine back yet.

Day 4, Thursday

FUCK! I was back on moving hay today again, with Sam, Trevor and Rick. I'm still hurting like hell and Rick is one lazy motherfucker, so old fart Farmer Joe decided to complain. The end result is that I am getting 2 days added for noncompliance. Sam, Trevor and Rick got nothing. WTF!

Day 5, Friday

We were carrying merchandise all morning and Troy heckled me on how I got more days because of the piece of shit Rick. But he then said that it was a weird coincidence that every work shift I've been on has been the toughest one.

Instead of going to class I met with the doctor from the hospital who made a visit. He asked me about how I felt, where I was sore etc. Then he gave me an injection which he said would ease things for me. I didn't feel much different, but I was getting really sleepy getting back to Mr. Reeds class, but it might just be that everything he did was too simple and boring.

Apparently while I had a check up Troy had shared his theory about me being a work magnet, so there were some groans from the guys placed in my group. God damn fence work again.

Man, I'm tired. I was tired even before Mr. Kerwin gave me the toughest weight pass ever. Fuck, I'm tired.

Day 6, Saturday

So the weekend schedule is different. There is still a morning work pass, basically only used by the local farmers. But the afternoon is free both on Saturdays and Sundays. Conditions and terms applies, apparently. Since I haven't done any cleaning or dishes all week (how could I?), I'm assigned washing clothes, sheets etc. Man, how much better it is to carry laundry than hay. Best job assignment all week. Lots of downtime. Only real drawback is all the humidity. It’s steamy AF here.

Still fucking 3h workout pass in the morning and evening. The other boys were pretty vocal in mocking me on my way to the gym.

Day 7, Sunday

So the day started out as any other so far. Woke up sore. Breakfast alone and 3 hour gym session. There are no work passes outside LARC on Sundays, so I was hit with cleaning, together with Kyle G. and Rick. Rick ghosted after like three minutes, but KG did a solid work. It took us all the time til lunch though to finish it.

Then my first free couple of hours all week. It’s insane. The other guys were low key avoiding me, so I did what Mr. Kerwin had suggested and had a walk in the forest. It was actually kind of nice, and for some weird reason I didn’t feel like sitting still.

Day 8, Monday

Same shit again. Mr. Kerwin gave me a shot in the arm this evening. Apparently I’ll have one each Monday from now on. Whatever.

Also I found out today that the others don’t have formal lights out. I’m on my own floor so they can lock me up and cut the power. What the fuck?

Day 9, Tuesday

That fucker Rick slacked off again, taunting me about another two days. Ha! I got 10. Mostly for kicking him in the teeth. They locked me in my room, so I had lunch there and sat in this boring ass cell during class and work. Fuck, I don’t know what’s worse. I had to do some body weight exercises to keep sane. Fuck this shit.

Back again. I still got to have my evening workout. Kerwin was pushing harder than ever. The order of exercises was different too. Apparently to make the major muscles tired so smaller muscle groups then get to work. Or something. I don’t give a shit.

Day 11, Thursday

They fucking work now, don’t they the little shits. They know I ruined someones career to get here and another one for slacking off. They better pull there weight

Day 14, Sunday

I think I’ll stick to just write on Sundays. There is only half an hour from evening gym to lights out, so there isn’t much time for writing. I’ve even skipped shower a few times. It’s not like it matters when you start every fucking day getting soaked with cardio. Not like there are any girls around to impress either. Sunday has a different vibe tho. Cleaning, running in the forest and taking a long shower.

Starts and ends with fucking gym time though.

Day 21, Sunday

I really fucking like the forest runs. Its like you don’t have to think and can just run wherever and grab whatever and smash whatever. Fucking love it

Day 28, Sunday

Yay! A full fucking month!

It’s crazy though how much stronger I’m. I have gone up one size larger track suite and 2 sizes larger sneakers. Working hard to make me the best I guess.

Day 42, Sunday

guess i forgot about writing last week. i think the monday shots make me angry or something because last week fucked up someone else on tuesday. at least they all give me fucking respect at least.

Day 92, Monday

i dont give a shit abot reeds borin ass lessons and they fuckin repeat on a loop or some shit. today he was back on gramr and the states. i most time dont fill out his shit but wanted to do it again today. fucking aced most of the states. not so good on the capitols tho

Day 203, Sunday

only 2 weeks left tomorrow lol then im gonna yeet the fuck outta here !!!! adios motherfuckas

Mr. Kerwin enters the room, carrying a folder, and walks behind his desk, not even looking at me. I am sitting in his precious fucking antique chair I pulled from the corner. He’s sitting his ass down, rifles through the papers in the folder and starts to read from one of them.

“John Hamlin agrees to 180 days of rehabilitation training at the Lepinski Adolescence Reformation Center, where he will participate in all scheduled exercises, activities, therapies, meals and medication programs, with a possible extension of 30 days for noncompliance and a possible extension of 60 days for infractions as described by the Juvenile Rehabilitation Act (JuRA), section 1103 (b).”

He looks up at me. It sounded like easy shit when I said yes to it. I thought half a year in a bad boy summer camp, or worst case something like prison, but that would have been miles better than this fucking non-stop hard labor shit. And 180 days was a fucking joke. They never fucking intended that to be the actual time. Have someone else slack off and the slap another 2 days to the time. Kick a chair to pieces, 5 days. Punch a guy for being a cunt, 10 days. I’m close to having another fucking outburst again. It must be all that fucking shit they put in the food or shakes or whatever. I fight it. I don’t want to show any emotion in front of him. I don’t think he buys my shit.

“There is another document in the agreement that you haven’t heard. This one between Mark and judge Andrews.”

He pulls out another paper from the folder and read it.

“The state hereby directs Mark Samberg, or person(s) by him so designated, to design and oversee the rehabilitation program of John Hamlin to be administrated at the Lepinski Adolescence Reformation Center. This includes physical exercises, physical therapy, education, consoling, dietary plan and medication, as long as it fulfills the positive development criteria (Appendix D), is within the available services at the Lepinski Adolescence Reformation Center (Appendix A) and within the given budget (Appendix C). Additional services require external financing and approval from the Reformation Center management (Appendix B).”

That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Why the hell had the judge put Mark in charge of my schedule? I understand why he’d want to make the experience suck as much as fucking possible for me, by why had everyone agreed to it? Kerwin looks at me as if he can read an open book.

“You are wondering what has happened to you. What was the meaning of all this? Stand up.”

I jump to my feet. There are still weeks he can add to my time here, and I don’t want to give him any fucking reason to add some shit.

“Stand with your feet as close together as you can.”

He’s never asked me to do that before. I can easily tap me feet together, but I can’t really stand still with my feet right next to each other for long. What the fuck is this bullshit? My thighs are too massive for that.

“Sit down again.”

He leans back and watches me with a bemused smirk.

“Imagine that you’d been away from swimming half a year. Even if you kept in shape it would take you months to be back in good enough technique to clear the swim team tryouts. But you have not kept in shape, have you? You have a completely new shape.”

The blood is draining from my face. I understand where this is going.

“With your upper body build you can physically really only do butterfly strokes properly, but if you can’t bring your feet together the leg kick will just be a wild thrashing of water. You swimming medley would be a hilarious joke. We haven’t even talked about you almost doubling in weight, and how much more oxygen you would need to swim. Sure, you are much stronger now, but old you would swim circles around new you. And that is of course the point. If Mark couldn’t have his sports career, he didn’t want you to have yours either. And the judge agreed.”

I’m surprised that the chair doesn’t break, as hard as I’m squeezing it. I’m boiling with fucking rage. I have to really focus to not to act on it.

“Now the judge specifically set out that this transformation couldn’t be punishment in itself, but rather that you were trained in a way that just wasn’t optimal for swimming. We may have gone a bit overboard with the body building to leave you many options though. You’ll obviously never be competitive in anything with speed or agility, like football or boxing. The metabolic conditioning, hormone treatment and gene therapy have far to long lasting effects to change you back from where you are now. You could try wrestling or weight lifting though, unless you mind showing your erection through spandex.”

“What the fuck?”, I said, as much as a general question to all the things he’d said. What does metabolic conditioning mean? Gene therapy? Erections?

“The medical regimen that Marks family found for you kind of put the feet on both the gas and the break at the same time. It forces the body to grow a lot at the same time as we try to stop it, so it has to try even harder. By injecting stem cells with the right CRISPR-modified DNA we could get rapid, major and long lasting changes. Well, I say we, but all I did was to make sure you kept to the exercise regimen, for a little cash on the side… Surely you didn’t think you got larger feet and dick from eating much and working hard?”

I don’t understand exactly what they done to me, but the result is pretty fucking clear. There was no way I would swim competitively ever again, if I could even fucking swim at all now. I would come out of here looking like a fucking balloon animal muscle jock, and shedding the muscles back to where I were would take shitloads of years.

“The hormone treatment finished two weeks ago and last blood sample shows that your natural hormone levels will keep you muscled and pumped probably well into your forties. So this morning I also cut you off from all suppressive medication as well. That is going to spike your hormone levels and mess quite a bit with you, so we need to see just how badly fucked up you are before we can release you.”

“The good doctor say that you’ll be more irritable and have more excess energy than before. Both something you can work on with regular, hard exercise. But I want to see where you really are at now, so starting today you’ll have no required gym time and labor passes. You can wake up when you want, eat what you want and do what you want.”

“You said erections?”, I asked.

“Yeah, the suppression medication should have kept you limp. You haven’t jacked off while here, have you? Well, you heard what I said about gas and break and compensation. Your body has been pumping massive amounts of hormones into your blood, and will continue to do so. But now that you don’t have the suppressives anymore you should expect to be horny for the next decade or two. You’ll be nothing but a lumbering muscle dildo.”

There’s a crack somewhere inside the wood of the armrest. Fucking fourteen more days, I have to remind myself. Don’t fuck any shit up before then. If I let go of the chair I’m quite positive I will knock him the fuck out. Fourteen fucking more shit days.

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myheartrevealedocs · 4 years ago

Text

Untouchable Ch 13- Home, Again

Warnings: swearing, mentions of torture and injuries, family drama and stuff? (if there’s something in this chapter that you want me to tag, let me know, I’m just not sure what to classify some of this stuff as)

Ch 12 | Ch 14

~ ~ ~

Beck threw herself into her sister’s arms as Lydia entered the waiting room.

“Thank god. Lydia, I’m so sorry, but I’m so scared. Watching her fall apart like that, then start seizing- What would we do if we lost her? What would I do? The system will take in Katie and Adam, but I… I’d be alone.”

Lydia pulled away to look into her sister’s cloudy eyes. “You will never be alone. If something actually happened to Sonia, you could come to DC with me in a heartbeat. Please don’t ever think I’d leave you alone.”

“You hate me,” Beck claimed. Her face was a blotchy mess and she didn’t make it any better be rubbing her hands over it frustratedly. She’d recently cut her hair short, which was perhaps the only thing stopping her from ripping it out. “I’ve been such an ass. I wouldn’t blame you if you left me here and went back to Virginia. I don’t have a job, I don’t have a college degree, I don’t even know how to drive a car! I’m useless!”

“You aren’t useless,” Lydia insisted, then leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “You’re stubborn. You were angry. But you know who knows even more about anger than you?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m guessing you, you menace?”

They both giggled, Rebecca hiccuping slightly through more tears.

“So, you won’t leave me to be a homeless prostitute?”

“Not this month,” Lydia joked. “What have you heard? Did they dissolve the blood clot?”

Beck nodded. “It’s gone. Now the only concern is figuring out how much damage it did.”

“Okay. Well then, one of us should stay here and wait for news and the other has to take Katie and Adam home and get them to bed. I really think you could use the rest, but I’m okay with either.”

The two twins were seated in the corner of the room. Katie was asleep across the armrest between her and her brother’s chair. Adam looked bored out of his mind, picking at his fingernails.

Beck looked back at them, then bit down on her bottom lip. “I need to make sure she’s okay. I don’t think I could fall asleep if I went home anyway.”

Lydia could understand that. She gave her sister a nod, before stepping around her and approaching the kids. “Hey Adam. Long time, no see!”

He pushed himself out of his chair quickly and wrapped his arms around Lydia’s waist. “Hi Lydie! Why didn’t you come home for Christmas this year?”

“I had to work,” she admitted, feigning disgust.

“You have to see the Legos that Becky got me! I already built them all!”

“That’s so cool! You’ll have to show me once we get home.”

He bounced excitedly, turning around to wake up his sister. “Katie! Lydie’s here!”

The girl blinked, rubbing her face where it was previously squished against her arm. “Adam,” she grumbled. “What do you want?”

Lydia knelt down next to her seat. “Hey Katie,” she said, softly. “I’m here to take you two hooligans home.”

Katie blinked, recognizing Lydia’s voice and her silly nickname for the twins. “Lydie? Mommy didn’t say you were coming home.”

Lydia didn’t want to freak them out by making them think the stroke was a big deal, so she held up a finger to her lips and said, “Sonia doesn’t know yet. It’s a surprise.”

“Is mommy sick?” Adam asked. “Becky said she was hurt, but when I hurt my arm, I didn’t have to stay at the doctor’s this long.”

“Mommy did get hurt,” Lydia admitted. “But she’s super strong. Right now, you two have to get some sleep. In your own beds. Okay?”

They nodded and followed her out, saying their goodbyes to Rebecca as they passed. Lydia called a cab to meet them outside and take them back to Sonia’s house.

As they were packing in, her phone rang. Spencer. Shit…

“Spence, hey…” she began, but couldn’t for the life of her come up with anything else to say.

“Lydia? Hotch told us that you had a family emergency, what happened?? Are you okay? Did you get home?”

She sighed, relieved he wasn’t angry about her sudden disappearance. They’d just been talking face to face and then she was on her way to the airport. “Can we start with one questions at a time? I’m so tired.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he agreed, quickly. “Where are you right now?”

“I’m leaving a hospital in Oakland, California, on my way to my foster mom, Sonia’s, house.”

“Why were you at the hospital?”

“Sonia had a stroke.”

“That’s awful. I’m sorry. What kind of stroke?”

“Uh… I’m not sure? I didn’t speak to any of the doctors directly.”

“Do you know if she had a hemorrhage or-?”

“No. No, it was a blot clot.”

“That’s good!” he said immediately. “The chances of surviving a ischemic stroke are higher than a hemorrhagic stroke. There’s also a higher likelihood of a full recovery.”

She smiled. “Thanks, Spence. How did the case go?”

“We found and recovered all the kids, but Jane and Frank disappeared.”

“Oh no…” she fretted. “I’m so sorry.”

“What are you talking about? You weren’t even in Nevada when it happened.”

“But I was… I told him we could negotiate for Jane and-”

“You saw her,” Spencer reasoned. “She was throwing herself at him. Frank would have gotten away either way and Jane would have followed him. You helped us get those kids back.”

“When did you become so good at cheering me up?” she teased. He didn’t reply, so she kept going. “Spencer, I should go. I’m almost at Sonia's house. Talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, of course. Tomorrow.”

~ ~ ~

“Lydia? What are you doing here?” Sonia demanded as Lydia walked into her room the next morning.

“What are you doing in a hospital bed?” she fired back. “You went and scared the hell out of us!”

“Honey, I’m old. It happens.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Not old enough. You’re like… one of the least likely people to get a stroke. You’re 50, you’re a woman, you’re Asain… do you have any blood pressure problems I don’t know about?”

“Apparently I have blood pressure problems that I don’t even know about,” she chuckled, trying not to focus on how bad that could be. “Since when do you know so much about stroke statistics?”

Lydia was perfectly ready to tell her that she’d done a bunch of research at the airport, but it was a lie. Spencer had been sending her little tidbits of information all day. Some to try to cheer her up, others to help prepare her for how Sonia’s recovery might go. As she thought about those texts, a smile pulled at her lips and Sonia was on her in an instant.

“What’s that? That smile. You just got all blushy on me, what happened?”

“I work with profilers and somehow you’re already onto my little secret, hm?” She rubbed her forehead. “You should probably go work for my team if you’re going to be so observational.”

“You should probably stop being so obvious,” she argued. “You’ve got a crush written all over you. Did he tell you about the stroke statistics?”

“His name is Spencer, he texted them to me to make me feel better, and I’m not crushing on him.”

“Oh please!” she cried. “Your cheeks are bright red! I know a crush when I see one. Tell me about this Spencer. Where did you meet him?”

“We work together. And I’m not lying, I’m not crushing on Spencer… because we’ve been dating for almost a year now.”

“You what?!” she exclaimed. “Lydia, you have to tell me these things! Almost a year?”

“Yeah. It started last year in April.”

“Why would you hide this from me? Look at you! You’re so happy!”

Lydia bit her tongue in contemplation. Why hadn’t she told her family? “Because I’ve been keeping it a secret anyway. None of the team knows we’re together. We never agreed that we wouldn’t tell our families, but… I don’t know, I guess I got so caught up in the lie that I didn’t even think about telling you guys.”

“Why are you hiding?” Sonia asked.

“Our work.” Lydia shrugged. “When we went on our first date, we didn’t want the whole team to be invested in a relationship that might not last. We didn’t want things to get weird. But now, it feels wrong, you know? Our boss wouldn’t be happy if he found out that we’ve been lying to him all this time. Spencer’s an agent, so in-office relationships are frowned upon for him.”

Lydia’s phone buzzed in her hand and instinctively, she looked down at it.

“Did he just text you?” Sonia teased.

Lydia glared back. “Fucking profilers.”

~ ~ ~

“Katie! Adam!” Lydia called as she shuffled upstairs.

“Hold on!” Katie’s muffled squealing came from the twin’s room.

Lydia smiled at what she could only imagine to be wild shenanigans going on behind that door. But, she turned and walked farther down the hall, opening up the door to Sonia’s room.

She’d been let go from the hospital after about a week, and had been recovering quickly. Lydia was glad to see her sitting up in bed stretching her arms out in front of her. Her left arm was weak and shook dramatically, but it was an improvement.

“Good morning, Sonia,” she greeted, walking over to the side of her bed. “Make sure to do your leg stretches as well today. I know they’re uncomfortable, but if you don’t build up that strength again, you’re going to end up with only one working leg. I want you to think about how frustrating that would be.”

She dropped her head back. “You’re right. That would be awful. Then I’d look like you.”

“Very funny,” Lydia deadpanned. “But my leg works fine, thank you. At this point, I’d say better than yours. But nevermind that, I won’t be here and neither will the car. If something happens, Beck will handle it and I’ll be back before your physical therapy appointment, okay?”

Lydia leaned down and gave her foster mother a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m ready, Lydie!” Adam shouted as he burst into the room. His backpack hung loosely from his shoulders, seeing as there probably wasn’t more in it than a folder.

“Is Katie ready?” she asked.

“No. Katie’s tying her shoes.”

“Oh, well then she’s almost ready. Let’s start heading down, shall we?”

He nodded, eagerly. “Bye, Mommy!” he said, before scurrying downstairs.

“Bye, Sonia,” Lydia followed suit, closing the door behind her as she left. “Beck?”

Her sister popped her head out of the bathroom, only half her makeup done, looking thoroughly unamused. “Must you be so loud?”

“Make sure Sonia gets up soon,” she ordered. “I won’t have my phone with me, so if something happens, call the doctor.”

“Won’t have your phone…?” She raised an eyebrow. “Are you not coming back after dropping the twin’s off?”

“No. I thought Sonia told you.”

“Told me what?”

“I’m ready!” Katie cried, rushing down the stairs to meet her brother.

“Head out to the car, little hooligans!” Lydia instructed. “I’ll be out in a second.”

“Where are you going?” Beck tried again.

Lydia sighed. “I’m visiting Dad today.”

~ ~ ~

Not that visiting a prison was ever a pleasant experience, but Lydia was comforted to find the place exactly the same. She had enough anxiety going in as is, but trying to navigate new rules or requirements would have made it ten times worse. Her dad didn’t even seem to notice her walk into the room, sitting alone at a table, staring intently at a wall.

Lydia cleared her throat. “Um, hey Dad.”

He blinked at her for a moment, before pulling her into a hug. “Lydia! Look at you! You’ve changed so much, sweetheart!”

She shrunk away from him, slightly as he spoke, both because the guards would yell at them if they were in contact for too long and because it had been so long. It was just weird.

“Yeah,” she sighed. “It’s been a crazy two years.”

“I hear,” he said, the two of them sitting across from one another. “Rebecca tells me that you work for the FBI full-time now.”

“Not exactly. I’m contracted out by one of their teams. Sometimes I’m home for a few weeks, other times we solve one case and fly straight to the next. It isn’t exactly 9 to 5.”

“I’m really proud of you.” He smiled and Lydia’s lip twitched as well. “I was shocked to hear you were coming. Rebecca says you very rarely visit.”

“I’m not in California for a visit,” she admitted. “Sonia had a stroke, so I’ve taken some time off work to look out for her and the other kids in her care.”

Her dad had warmed up to Sonia over the years, seeing as she had to escort Lydia and Beck to the prison when they were still minors. He looked genuinely sad to hear the news. “That’s terrible. Tell her I hope she gets well soon.”

“I will. It was pretty mild it seems. She’s regaining strength quickly.”

They didn’t have the time for this small talk. Her father knew that. But Lydia almost hoped that they could keep the conversation going. As if he wasn’t an inmate in a prison. As if they weren’t being watched carefully. As if she didn’t have mixed feelings about speaking to him.

“So, Lydia, why did you come?”

Lydia blinked, pushing up her glasses habitually. “What do you mean? I haven’t seen you for two years…”

“I know,” he chuckled. “But if you wanted to come say hi to me, you’d do it when you were visiting home. Not when you’re busy taking care of a whole family.”

“Well… your sentence is almost done. Seven years… And I was talking to Sonia about it and she asked when the last time I saw you was… I felt bad.” She waited for him to say something, but he didn’t. Because he knew that wasn’t it. “I haven’t really… told anyone in DC that my dad’s in prison. And with this new job, I talk to serial killers. I learn a lot about them, get into their heads. And in the end, we always put them away. And now I see prison in this whole different light and I think I needed to prove to myself that you… you aren’t one of the bad guys.”

“Okay, so… how do I prove I’m not a bad guy?” he asked.

“You don’t. You just-” Lydia’s eyes started to burn and she stopped herself from getting emotional. “I wanted to see you. That’s all. Recently, it feels like I can’t remember much about anyone in the family.”

“Is this about your mom?”

“I don’t know what this is about,” she rambled. “I just… I was finally starting to be okay in college and then, the whole Jenna thing happened and I was an angry monster again. And when I realized I had settled down, I was a different person. I worked for the FBI for crying out loud! And I’m looking at the people around me, and they look different, too, but I can’t figure out if it’s them who’ve changed or just my view of them. And I’ve always-”

She was tearing up again. Lydia gritted her teeth, feeling frustrated. She came here to check up on him, not have a meltdown. But if she shut down, he would keep bugging her about it, so might as well keep going.

“I’ve always been so mad at you,” she said, gnashing her teeth like an animal. “And then I’m looking through a serial killer's house and all I can think is, ‘At least my dad didn’t become this’. And I feel guilty that I’ve been so hard on you for seven years. So, I came here because I needed to prove to myself that this face belongs to my dad and not a bad guy.”

“Could it be both?”

Lydia glared at him, but didn’t have anything to say. She didn’t need the ambiguous question right now.

“Lydia, I know what I did was stupid and it hurt people. And all the excuses I made for it at the time don’t justify my actions. I wasn’t wrongfully accused and I’m not trying to pretend I was.”

“I don’t want to have an argument with you,” she grumbled. “I want to look at you with my new profiling eyes and determine whether it’s worth rebuilding a relationship with you when you get out.”

That shut him up. Lydia’s face burned in shame, but there was no taking it back. They sat there in silence for what felt like years. She didn’t know what there was to say. It had been on her mind for months now that his release was approaching. She’d considered Beck to be her only family for almost 7 years. Her father was a distant memory. But maybe when his time was up… maybe it’d be nice to have a dad again. But she had sworn at 16 never to forgive him.

“Did you decide?” he asked, his voice grim.

Why did she have to decide? Why couldn’t someone tell her that she was going to have to learn to live with or without him and be done with it? Why did it have to be her to walk away or make the effort. Shouldn’t family come naturally?

But for now, at least, she knew what she wanted.

“I want my family back. I don’t want to leave California one day and never have a reason to come back… I want to know my mom… And maybe, just maybe, I want to remember my dad, too. Because somewhere in the far recesses of my mind, he was a cool dude.”

“I’m sorry that I ever left you,” he said.

Finally, Lydia felt a sense of relief. She stood up. “I need to go, Dad. Luckily, the next time I see you, you probably won’t be behind bars.” And then, she opened up her arms, welcoming him in for a hug.

For the past seven years, she’d never been the one to initiate a hug with her father, but it felt like it was time. Her stubbornness had kept her from too much. She’d missed out on so many opportunities to be happy all because she was hinged on being in complete control of the image of herself that other’s saw. And she hadn’t felt like she’d had a parental figure in a long time.

He accepted quickly. “Go be an amazing bad-guy-catcher,” he teased.

“I will,” she replied with a smile. “Keep being a neutral guy, alright?”

As she headed for the door, he said, “Lydia? One more thing…”

She raised an eyebrow in his direction.

“Happy birthday.”

He remembered. She didn’t expect him to, for some reason. She didn’t really expect him to know the exact date.

“I love you,” she told him, but didn’t wait around to hear his response. She didn’t plan on spilling any tears today.

~ ~ ~

“You’re hunched over your computer like Quasimodo,” Rebecca joked as she dropped a bowl of ice cream next to her sister.

Poor Lydia was so wrapped up in her paper, she didn’t even notice the gift, ignoring the dessert completely. “I need Spencer,” she admitted. “He’d be able to give me more accurate information than these pathetic websites.”

“Why don’t you call him?” Sonia offered from across the table.

“He told me this morning that he was leaving for a case. Really bad one, too. He doesn’t need the distraction.”

Beck rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re actually going to get a PhD for this guy.”

“I’m not getting this for Spencer,” she tried to argue. “But I mean, look at me! I’m set to graduate in the spring. Have you ever seen someone get a doctorate in 2 years? Spencer did that for me. I could become a college professor in about a year, all thanks to him. At 23 years old.”

“Don’t act like you’re not a genius all by yourself,” Beck grumbled. “Just because he’s super charismatic-” Lydia laughed out loud when she said that “-does not mean that he got you your PhD.”

“I’m not saying that!” she tried to argue. “Think about how much money I’ve saved! I mean, I was terrified when I took that internship at the BAU that once it was up, I’d be stuck. With this, I have so many options open that I-”

She paused, noticing her phone screen light up with Hotch’s name. Rebecca and Sonia gave her funny looks, but she held up a finger.

“My boss is calling me. Strange.”

“If he says you have to go back to Virginia, do it. You’ve taken enough to time off as it is,” Sonia instructed, but Lydia just rolled her eyes.

“Hey, Hotch,” she answered. “What’s up?”

“Lydia, I’m going to need your help with something…”

“That’s fine. Is it case related?”

“No it’s…” He sounded exhausted and Lydia wondered where he could be. It was 9 in California, so unless he was on the west coast, it was late. “Lydia, Reid has been taken captive by an unsub.”

Her heart stopped. Seeing her family's confused faces across from her, she jumped up from the table and rushed out of the room.

“What? I- What are you… How bad of an unsub?” she sputtered.

“He’s sending us a live feed of it. As of right now, Reid’s forehead has a large gash in it and one of his feet is mangled. We’re doing everything we can to find him.”

“Is there something I can do?” Her breathing was labored and her chest, constricting. This was all wrong. Spencer had to be okay. He needed to be…

“Lydia, Spencer’s strong. He’ll keep fighting until we can get to him. But I have a feeling when he gets out, he’s going to want to see your face.”

She was far too stressed to even consider what he was implying. “You want me to- I’m not sure if I can-”

“Two days. That’s all. I’ll get you a ticket to Georgia as soon as possible. He’ll need your support. Can you be here?”

Leaving suddenly, once again. But Spencer might need her. Hotch was certain he would. And after news like that… she’d need to see him for herself to even imagine that he was going to be okay.

“I’ll pack my things now. Send me that plane ticket and the case file. I need to know what to expect when I get there.”

“I’ll let you know if anything changes,” he assured her. “Thank you.”

She heard him hang up the phone, but didn’t move it away from her ear. All she could hear was her heartbeat in her ears, as if it was trying to break out. She blinked a couple of times and turned to see that her sister had followed her into the next room, eyes wide.

A tear slipped down her cheek, which she quickly wiped away. “I need to go,” she told Beck and ran to her room to gather some things.

Tag List: @kris-stuff, @wooya1224, @spencerelds

#criminal minds #cm #spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds oc #cm fanfiction #cm fanfic #cm oc #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #untouchable #untouchable ch13 #fanfiction #fanfic #oc #lydia ambers #aaron hotchner

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mass-hxsteria · 4 years ago

Text

Next time (#3 in series)

August 2017

The phone vibrated against the table; it’s relentless buzzing distracting Leon from the conversation with the son sitting across from him. The man tried hard to ignore it, keeping himself as engaged as possible with Philip’s story. Though they had spoken on the phone a few times, too much of this morning was spent in awkward small talk, neither of them sure how to approach the unique situation they were in. Now, finally, Leon had gotten his son talking, walls slowly diminishing as they got to know each other. Leon glanced briefly at the slew of missed calls as he silenced this one, trying to be subtle about his shift in attention. He tried to keep most of his focus on Philip, despite the gnawing agony of ignoring a work call. They would find someone else. This was the first time in 12 years this kid was speaking face-to-face with his father. How could he just leave right away? They had the whole weekend planned and this was only the first day. He barely began to push work from the forefront of his mind until, yet again, moments after the last ignored call, the phone began buzzing again.

“It’s okay. Just answer it.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll just be a second.” Leon answered the call, listening to the demand as he left the restaurant. As suspected, he was asked to come in. “Is there really no one else that can cover the surgery? Or can the appointment be pushed off? I’m across the country right now. Even if I get a flight, I won’t make it in until tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow morning it is then. We really need you to come in. We talked about this. You knew this was a chance when you left.”

“Right, okay, fine.” Leon sighed. He had known, but--maybe it was just wishful thinking--but the chances seemed so low. It felt worth the risk at the time that, if it happened, he would at least have had more time with his son first. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Leon hung up the phone, shaking his head, dreading going back in and telling Philip he had to leave right away. He knew having a relationship with his son wasn’t going to be easy, especially with him living in Boston and Philip and Elizabeth in Chicago. Still, he hadn’t expected it to go sideways quite so quickly. This weekend had taken weeks to plan and Philip had been so excited. Leon had too. Now, it was only going to last a few hours. If this was any indication of visits to come, he didn’t have a good feeling about it. He didn’t want to be the type of dad that only visited with his kid for a few hours a couple times a year, not after coming into Philip’s life so late.

He walked in, flagging down a waitress to ask for to-go boxes for the lunch, and pulling out his wallet as he made his way back to the table. “I’m so sorry dude, that was work. I’ve got to head back to Boston tonight.”

“Oh...” He had expected Philip to be disappointed. What he hadn’t anticipation was just how crushed he would feel himself, seeing the disappointment on his kid’s face, knowing he caused it.

“I know. I’ll come back next month and it will be longer, I promise.”

November 2017

Leon collapsed on the small airport chair, relaxing after hours of airport security. He pulled out his phone, seeing multiple missed calls from Elizabeth. His heart sank, there was no chance this could be good news. He opened his voicemail. “I’m sorry, Leon. I hope you’re not on the plane already; I’ve been trying to get in touch with you. My parents just came out to surprise Philip. I had no idea they were coming. They live so far, they can’t get out here much. I know you know what that’s like, but...” A long pause, a distant sigh. “Well they actually showed up.” There it was, Leon thought, the real reason she didn’t want him coming out. “Anyway, I tried to explain that he had plans with you and to let me know next time, but, well, you know how they can be. And I don’t want to send them all the way back to Florida just so he can spend half a day with you.” He leaned his head back, eyes shut. He knew Elizabeth was tired of Leon always disappointing Philip; she was the one who saw it more often than he did. What she never seemed to grasp was how difficult this was for him to. “I hope you understand. We’ll see you next time. Hopefully.”

January 2018

6AM Flight to Chicago - canceled

11AM Flight to Chicago - canceled

2PM Flight to Chicago - canceled

8PM Flight to Chicago - canceled

Leon tried to glance out the window, but all he could see was a sheet of ice. It was no wonder the flights were canceled. Stubbornly refusing to let this happen again, Leon began looking up routes to Chicago. Maybe the skies would be bad, but the roads could be better. 15 hours of driving time. The blizzard might add a few, but if he drove all night...

“Are you insane!?” Within seconds of Leon texting her his thoughts, Elizabeth was calling him and was, apparently, not pleased. “If it’s that bad out, stay there. You’ll get yourself killed if you try to drive out here.”

“I’ll be fine. It’ll clear up at some point.” He paused, sighed. “I can’t miss his birthday, of all days.” He admitted in a rare, vulnerable moment with his ex, unable to hide the dejection from his voice.

“He’ll understand. He’ll be disappointed, but it’s better than you doing something stupid. We’ll just make it work next time. Just be safe today. I know it’s been hard, but this will get easier.” Though short, this was the first real conversation he felt like he had had with Elizabeth this entire time; the first time it hadn’t ended in an argument. They managed to keep things civil in front of Philip, but he hadn’t yet brought himself to forgive her for what happened. She also never never quite forgave him for wanting to get rid of the kid in the first place.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right...” Her understanding tone throwing him off enough that he couldn’t help but agree with her. Still, he was starting to lose hope. In these past few months, Leon had yet to feel like anything but a failure of a father. He thought, not for the first time, that maybe he was right 13 years ago. He wasn’t cut out to be a father. Looking at the worsen blizzard outside, he briefly wondered if this was nature’s way of agreeing with him. He couldn’t bring himself to fully admit to her that’s why he was trying so hard, but he suspected she was starting to realize that herself. With a sigh, “Can I talk to him? I want to tell him myself.”

June 2018

Almost one year had gone by since the phone call that had completely changed Leon’s life. Despite only one truly successful visit and many mishaps, the man could easily say he wasn’t the same person since finding out he had a kid. His phone calls with Philip grew more frequent and more plans were being made. Even though things were slowly getting easier, he still always wished he had more time with his son. Thankfully, that was finally going to change by tomorrow. With Philip out of school for the summer, they had planned for him to fly out to Boston for two weeks. He was straightening up the apartment when he got a call from Elizabeth. He had expected this. The past few weeks her calls grew more frequent with questions, making plans, making sure Leon knew what he was doing before she let their son stay with him, that he was responsible enough for this.

“Hey. I’ve got everything all ready to go here. I’m picking him up at the airport at noon tomorrow, right?” He asked, but was greeted with a long pause. His face fell as he awaited the explanation.

“Philip broke his arm. He was out skateboarding with some friends and had a bad fall. He’s going to need surgery and he’ll be in a cast for a while. After that, physical therapy... I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to reschedule. With him healing, it might not be for a while.”

“Is he alright?”

“He’s in some pain, but it was a clean break. He’s a little upset about not being able to get out there. I know you were both looking forward to this. Maybe we’ll try again in August.”

“Yeah, we’ll figure it out. Just keep me posted on how he’s doing, alright? I’ll look at plane tickets and try to make it out there to help out before his surgery.” What he was most upset about was that he couldn’t be there for his kid during all this. He opened his laptop to look up flights to Chicago, but even then, what would that accomplish? If he was going to have trouble for a while, would Leon being there for a day really help at all? There was one other option: something that had been in the back of his mind for months now. He booked a flight for the next day and then switched gears, looking for apartments to rent in Chicago as well as jobs for plastic surgeons. With Elizabeth still on the line, he explained his thoughts, “I’ll be out there tomorrow. There’s something else I want to do while I’m there, but I’m going to need your help.”

To be continued...

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phoenix-angel-suyari · 4 years ago

Text

I’m having a really rough day and I can’t even drink.

I don’t even know where to start...

So, I think I’m just gonna bullet point this bitch.

- On Monday, I missed my therapy appointment which I only get once every 2-3 weeks and never seem to be long enough at anywhere from 20-40 minutes per session depending upon my therapist’s availability. There’s a LOT wrong with my therapy situation, but at the moment I’m honestly, seriously lucky to be able to have therapy at all in the first place. So as much as it sucks, at the very least I am receiving mental health care and that’s all that matters.

However, my missed therapy appointment was not my fault. The night before I was called by the office in regards to my appointment and the coming storm. I was offered a rescheduled in person or a telehealth appointment. Now, as much as I despise the telehealth appointments - entirely because of my living situation - as rare as my appointments can be, semi-consistent therapy has caused me to sort of NEED them. I never get around to actually talking about what I need or want to talk about, but just venting some things is helpful so I opted for the telehealth appointment instead. I was told my appointment had been turned into a telehealth and would retain it’s time slot.

The next morning, I made sure I was awake and prepared. Nine o’clock came. No phone call. So, I waited. Ten o’clock came. No phone call. By eleven, I thought, I’d make brunch (I only eat twice a day) because I needed to take my medication. By twelve, I figured, I’d go shovel because the snow was coming down by the foot. My therapist called while I was shoveling and was told I was unavailable. She said she’d call back at 1. So I finished up, took a quick shower to get warm and waited. I ended up waiting all day and she never called back.

I’d assumed initially when time was going by and she wasn’t calling that perhaps I had been the only one who opted for telehealth and she’d misread an email that had let her know she essentially had the day free. I still don’t know what happened there, but I am hoping it doesn’t count as some sort of strike against me (the hospital has a three strikes and they drop you situation) because it was NOT my fault.

Regardless, now it’s gonna be over a month between when I last spoke to my therapist and when I next speak to my therapist. And honestly, the only saving grace is that I will be seeing my Psychiatrist on Tuesday and she’ll listen to me and I can cry in her office if I need to then.

- I’m smack dab in the middle of a mid life crisis and I’ve been struggling with it. I know I’d still be where I am if not for covid, but I still can’t help like feeling as if covid has made me lose valuable time I will never get back and which I am quickly running out of to turn my life around.

This has not been aided at all by a slew of strange but not disturbing, just confusing as hell dreams, and my family being my family.

- Speaking of my family...

Yesterday, some of us who have been tested recently and/or already finished receiving both doses of vaccination got together for the first time in a year. And it was nice. Enjoyable. I couldn’t really drink because my new meds really do not mesh well with alcohol - which I tested safely at home and learned the hard way.

Now, it’s important to note that my sister has been pressuring me to open an OnlyFans because in her opinion it’s something easy I can do to make money and it makes no sense for me not to. (We’re not going to get into these “discussions” held previously, only know there have been way more than there should be.)

So, we’re talking and I point out that everyone sitting around the table is married already and so they at least don’t have to worry about finding someone in all this mess, as it drags on longer and longer. I finally caved and after years of just letting them come at me while not bothering to ever do any work like introducing me to someone they thought I might get along with, I confronted them about it. I was like, “Look, everyone seems to forget they met their spouses through someone else INTRODUCING them. So, if you know someone who’s single and looking for long term - marriage and a family - then please, feel free to hook me up.”

I was then told - rather seriously - that I should go on a tv show. I - rightly so - pointed out that I didn’t trust shows like that to set me up with anyone because they’re all about the drama and why should I even have to go on tv for something like that. My sister then proceeded to tell everyone how she thought I should open an OnlyFans. Instead of being surprised or anything by this, my family proceeded to spend the next hour trying to convince me to do something I don’t want to do. They basically laid it all out in a start to finish establishing a fan base and getting a patreon to crowdfund the basics for an OnlyFans. They worked out and tried to sell me on content I could offer and when I countered, “Even if I wanted to - which I DON’T - explain to me how the hell I’m supposed to do any of that in THAT house.” The answer being that it was entirely possible. I just had to figure it out.

My sister said, “You do it like you do when you exercise.” And like when I WHAT?! I’m not ALLOWED to exercise. It “makes too much noise” and invites derision. Which I then have to suffer through. She then proceeded to inform me that I could always establish a career as a Sugar baby. “You don’t even have to have sex with them, you just have to dress pretty and make them feel important.” Can I do the second one? Absolutely. The first is not possible. We argued about it and she was like, “It works! My friend did it in college and she got an apartment and everything!” And I countered that even though there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s a LIFESTYLE and it’s most lucrative for people in their twenties, not someone like me. Which apparently, is an excuse? Because I need an excuse to object to something I fucking objected to when I was IN my twenties.

So, anyway, I learned that my family seems to enjoy my singleness as a source of conversation, if not entertainment, but which is somehow fulfilling for them because even when I come right out and fucking ASK THEM to HELP ME find someone, it somehow becomes that I don’t need a someone when I can be a camgirl instead.

I even pointed out that I could make JUST AS MUCH with a cute dog whom I could make an entire social media platform for and was told in like the most what the fuck moment of the evening, “With what money?!” Like, are you fucking SERIOUS?! There was a whole conversation detailing and planning how to get me to be a camgirl and we can’t figure out a fucking DOG?!

I am so fucking done with all of it.

- I was feeling really sick last night when I got home, like I might throw up and so I just took a shower and went to bed. But, because I did that, I never took any of my meds last night - which is when I take the bulk of them - and my body is just NOT HAVING IT.

- For some reason my family wanted to have a dog movie marathon today that like, I enjoy those movies, but they’re emotional as fuck for me and I was already not feeling okay, and then wanted to subject me to that. I watched like half an hour of one and then left.

- I’m not even getting into the dinner fiasco.

I took a fucking swan dive into a depressive oubliette and the only thing I can hope for is that taking my meds tonight will give me the protective boost enough to not be completely lost tomorrow. I have now learned the hard way that my explanation to my doctors about how my anti-depressants are like doing the brunt of the work to make me capable of daily life without a complete mental breakdown is in fact not a handy analogy. I have learned my lesson. I will not be missing a dose again.

I’ve never been a smoker but my god, could I use a cigarette right now.

I did receive some good news this week at least. My liver’s finally healed. I’m gonna have to be on medication for the rest of my life to ensure that, but that’s one organ that forgave me at least.

I’m going back to sleep.

#my life #my family

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beerecordings · 5 years ago

Note

I was thinking about that Therapy AU (ish. thing. question mark?) that you brainstormed a few months back, and I find myself wondering—which of the boys realized “oh hey, I should probably see a therapist” first? And what was the impetus? (Jackie. I’m asking about Jackie. I want to know the story behind how Jackie found his Alderian/Adlerian duder and why he sprung for it. Also the thing about who came first, but Jackie. My boy. Im lov him)

lol yeah you’re right it’s not so much an au as something that i’d like to be canon in just about every universe i come up with lollll. but yeah hm…

I think Henrik goes to see a therapist first because he’s been through literal hell and there’s no way he can handle any of this without professional help. and everybody knows that, you know, like… it’s easier to justify some reasons to go than others. so even though everybody probably needs it they’re all here like “oh GEEZ someone else has had it SO MUCH WORSE than me so HE’S going to therapy” and they all end up ganging up on Henrik with their love and support like “yeah bud you need to see somebody please we’re worried about you!!” and it’s hard to argue when he’s both physically and mentally exhausted so he just ends up letting them take him. he doesn’t have his existentialist therapist at first, that’s too intensive for his mental energy at the time, but he just sees a nice calm therapist who really helps him deal with some of the outstanding issues and find ways to hold on when he’s really bad off. and the others are all so excited and supportive but for some reason when he recommends they try it too, they seem to think he’s joking?

then Chase gets court-ordered to therapy and he’s like “FUCK fine!!” and it makes him sob his heart out every week and he feels so dumb and weak and stupid for like two months before he starts to come around to it. and it’s Henrik who really convinces him that it’s okay, and then eventually it actually starts to help?? and he gets to see the kids again!!! ahh!!! it’s a good time! he and Henrik start scheduling their appointments at the same time so they can get lunch together first and then walk home together too.

JJ gets pressured by the family to join them after he starts getting into some really bad habits like getting into fights and tearing his fists open beating up his punching bag and staring at his razor for long enough that Henrik gets scared and practically drags him there himself (he would not go but he hates to see Henrik so nervous and upset). Marvin has a complete breakdown after years of being the family tough guy without crying once in front of the others and they all get freaked out and ask him to go see somebody for their sake if nothing else (he would not go but when his little brothers look at him like that) and then Jackie is there like “good job guys! I’ll just be over here! love you! :)”

cause the thing is Marvin had convinced himself that he has to be tough enough to deal with everything he goes through in silence, but Jackie is WORSE because he’s just convinced himself he doesn’t have anything to deal with. He’s the big brother, first of all, so he just doesn’t have time for that, and he’s a hero, so nothing’s going to get to him anyway, of course. and then he just hasn’t been through as much as the others, right? Henrik and JJ with Anti, and Chase with his family, and his poor Marv must have been dealing with so much so quietly for so long, and if Jackie had just been a better brother to him he wouldn’t have HAD to do that, he wouldn’t have had to hide anything from anyone, he’d come to Jackie instead of hiding his problems but he doesn’t because he doesn’t trust him enough and that’s because of Jackie’s failures and ALL OF THIS IS JACKIE’S FAULT -

yeah, no, no problems! he’s good! he’s cruising! He doesn’t have it that bad he’s fine! he only struggles sometimes cause he’s a baby, right? he should toughen up, after all he heard Henrik sobbing last night and he has it so much worse, he’s been through so much, Jackie needs to look like everything’s okay so Henrik feels safe and calm. and then everything will be better and everything will be fine. once his brothers are fine, he’ll be fine.

and then his brothers are fine.

he stops, pauses, looks around.

Chase is out with the kids, sober for a year straight. JJ’s just got a new job and he seems happy and well-adjusted. Henrik’s showing his scars without freaking out and has been dealing with his panic attacks well. Marvin admits he had a bad day but says he’s going to make tomorrow a better one! Jackie’s never heard him say anything like that in his life and he seems to mean it, what the hell is happening?

all his brothers are fine and he’s still not… what is happening…. if everyone’s okay why does he still feel so bad about himself?

The others want to go to family therapy now. Apparently JJ’s therapist keeps recommending it because so many of his issues come back to worrying about upsetting the others, and then Marvin’s therapist agrees, and they’re all pretty comfy with therapy by now, and they want to go, they want to try it. and of course he’s not going to turn them down!! yeah, they need him to be the calm big brother in the room, keeping everything together, making sure they’re all safe? of course! he’ll come and support them all!! he’s a little bit terrified at the very prospect but they need this so he’ll do it, he can do it! for their sake. if it’s for their sake it’s okay, it’s permissible, and it’s not weak because it’s not for him, it’s for them.

and then they get in there and it’s so much messier than he expected. first of all the therapist right away goes “so everyone is seeing a therapist personally but you, Jackie” and he goes hot red and feels all his brothers looking at him and makes up something about not needing that and he sees Henrik turn away from him when he says it. and then she keeps trying to draw him into it and he hates that, this wasn’t what he planned, he just wanted to sit here and tell everyone they were doing great!! and then, oh, hell, everything is coming out. everything is coming bleeding out of his brothers and it’s messy and it’s ugly and he’s not a bystander, he’s a part of it, they even say his name sometimes, they even seem to accuse him sometimes. it’s not what he expected, it’s not at all what he expected, it’s not Chase going “I’m sad sometimes when you’re sad Marvin” and Marvin going “oh no I’m sad when you’re sad let’s work on this :’((” it’s like Jameson saying “I can’t tell any of you ANYTHING because half the time you treat me like an infant and the other half of the time you get so upset that even though I want to confide in you I can’t because I know it’ll send you all spiraling, I feel like I’m not allowed to be fucking suicidal but I am and I can’t trust any of you to deal with me - ” and then before he knows it Jackie is fucking sobbing in the therapy room so hard they all have to be done for the day and JJ is sitting there staring at him like he’s just proven his point and the guilt comes crashing down and he feels like he’s dying and he REFUSES to go back next week.

they’re all upset and JJ won’t talk to him. he WON’T go back to that, that was so horrible and humiliating, he’s not doing that again, he’s NEVER trying therapy again.

his brothers go to family therapy without him. that’s fine. that’s good. they’re allowed to. he waits for things to go back to normal.

they don’t.

JJ never talks to him anymore, not about the things that matter. He says there’s no bad blood between them and most likely that’s true, but the fact is he just doesn’t trust him. can’t confide in him. Jackie starts to feel sick every time they’re together, wondering if his baby brother is suicidal right now and just hiding it from him, sitting there doing his embroidery with a movie playing on the couch, thinking about killing himself. Jackie’s starting to get upset more often. Jackie’s starting to crumble. everyone is fine, for the most part. he doesn’t want to upset that. doesn’t want to put the burden of himself on their shoulders. he’s being such a fucking baby. why is he crying himself to sleep again every night? why did he have to go hide in the bathroom for five minutes at the restaurant yesterday because someone said the word antifreeze? why does Chase teasing him about taking the last piece of cake make him want to die so badly? why isn’t he ever happy anymore? Marvin asks him if he wants to go to the arcade and he doesn’t, he isn’t up for it. energy’s gone. hasn’t had much for a long time but he could bury the exhaustion from their sight and that was all that matters. Jamie accidentally cuts his thumb one day in the kitchen and Jackie wants in and sees the blood dripping onto his wrist and he loses it, he loses it, he’s screaming, he’s shouting at JJ, and Jameson just stands there and takes it, Jameson stands there staring at him when everybody else is shouting at Jackie to cut it out, stop it, what the hell Jackie? Jamie is still standing there in silence when Jackie has a full meltdown on the kitchen floor, followed promptly by a miserable, silent, exhausted shutdown that lasts for two days afterwards.

he goes back to family therapy. it isn’t really working. he’s really tired and sad and every time someone tries to confront him about an issue in their family he might be involved in he immediately starts crying and apologizing again and again, taking all the blame on his shoulders, promising them they didn’t do anything wrong even if they did, not accepting comfort or apologies from any of them, everything’s his fault, he promises he’ll fix it, he’ll never go out on patrol again if that’s what they want. and it’s so uncomfortable for everyone and soon family therapy starts turning into “tip-toeing around Jackie while Jackie feels miserable and gets worse” and their therapist tells them this isn’t working anymore.

You need to go to a therapist, they start telling him.

I’ve been going with you all the time, he says.

No, they say, you need to go to a therapist.

Oh.

Well, he can’t do that.

Well, why not? Huh?

Because he just can’t.

Because that’s not who he is.

Why isn’t it who he is?

Jackie, why?

Jackie, say something, say anything.

Why?

Because he’s not allowed to be that. He’s not allowed to need help. He’s got to keep them safe - you don’t - I do!

fuck’s sake, Jackie. You can’t keep doing this anymore. You just can’t.

I know, he says. I know.

but he won’t go even when it’s all sitting out in the open and everyone’s staring at him like they’re waiting for him to shatter into glass because the family therapist was not what he needed and he’s scared of the questions and the feeling of being torn apart and the conflict and the sadness and he thinks all therapy’s like that and it’s not for him and he won’t go. and then one day sweet little brother number three comes and lays down with him and hugs him real tight and puts himself right there in Jackie’s arms so his big brother gets to hold him and push their heads together and hear his heartbeat and feel him rubbing at his shoulder. and Chase has probably waited for a soft calm night to tell him this but there’s this really cool thing his therapist recommended for Jackie’s sake where you don’t have to talk at all in therapy if you don’t want to. they just give you this great sand and you can run your hands all over it and then they get all these like toys and models and things out and they ask you questions like “tell me about a time when you were happy” and you just have to build, man, and work from there. and he knows he’s been so sad and tired lately and he wants him to try it because he loves him and didn’t Jackie used to try and convince him to go too?

and you wouldn’t see me as a failure if i went? and you wouldn’t think you had to take care of me? and it wouldn’t be weird for you? and you wouldn’t make fun of me for it? and nobody would ask me too many questions? and i could just build?

and Chase gives him a lot of no’s and one good solid yes, yeah, bud, you can just build, and Jackie goes two weeks later and sits down with the sand and the toys in front of him and just lets it all go and, in plastic houses and little figurines that remind him of his family and the cool soothing weight of the sand in his hands, he tells the truth at last, without ever speaking once.

plus his therapist is really funny and sweet and positive and warm with him. and she keeps going “just between you and me” and he grins and knows he can tell her anything and it doesn’t have to come back and hurt his brothers at all if he doesn’t want it to, he can even say Forbidden Horrible things like “it makes me angry when he does this” or “I wanted to kill that man that night and it scared me how strong I was” and “sometimes I think I’m just as much a mistake as Anti was” and slowly, slowly, they start to work on it. and he learns to apologize respectfully and fairly, without being accidentally manipulative, and he learns to take care of them in a way that he couldn’t before, and he learns that he’s important too, and needed and loved, even if he isn’t strong or positive or perfect every day of every year.

they start going back to family therapy once he’s ready. they keep getting more and more tools to help them put themselves and each other back together again. it’s a good fit after all.

#suicidal ideation tw #panic attack tw #distress tw #but it ends sweet right?#he's a good boy

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let-it-raines · 5 years ago

Text

Catch Me If You Can (6/?)

298 days. That’s how long Killian Jones was away from a baseball field. It’s less than a year, only part of a season for him, but it might as well have lasted a decade as he alternated between physical therapy and spending an excessive amount of time sitting on his couch.

But then he came back and won the World Series.

It’s something no one saw coming, and it’s certainly not something anyone who knows about his arm would predict. Now it’s a new season with new possibilities, and anything could happen. On-field reporter Emma Swan will be there to cover it all even if she is not his biggest fan right now.

Asking her out live on-air will do that.

Rating: Mature

A/N: So maybe something big happens in this chapter. Maybe not. Okay definitely. Thanks to all of you for continuing to click and read and be so kind and thanks to @resident-of-storybrooke for being the kindest❤️

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

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-/-

“You’re almost out of milk,” Killian tells Liam as he grabs the gallon out of the refrigerator and pours it into his bowl of Lucky Charms. It was either this or Wheaties, and while Wheaties make more sense for him, Lucky Charms are magically delicious…he’s watched too much TV lately if he’s quoting cereal slogans. “And you guys really need different brands of cereal.”

“We’re running low on groceries because you keep eating everything.”

Liam picks up the box of Lucky Charms between them and places it back in the cabinet, slamming the door shut before he returns to his seat on the barstool on the island. “And because neither Elsa nor I have been able to go to the store in the past two weeks. You should have seen the girls’ lunches this week. It was rough.”

He swirls his spoon around in the cereal, trying to pick up the little brown bits instead of the marshmallows. Isn’t that how everyone eats this? “You do realize there’s such a thing as having your groceries delivered? I do it all the time.”

“Addy likes to come with me, so I like going with her. We have very serious discussions about the branding on food.”

“Of course you do,” he chuckles, taking a bite of the cereal while he flexes his ankles out a bit from the jog that he did before he practiced a few pitches with Will this morning. He still needs to go over his stats and notes tonight and tomorrow for the game, but he’s feeling pretty prepared. It’s their sixteenth game of the season, and while he’s only pitched four games, they’ve won all of those games. They may have a losing record so far, but he doesn’t.

After his first game, that surprises him.

That’s always a good thing when they have to play the Sox on Tuesday. Realistically, he knows that the toughest team they’re going to play this year is the Astros, but the history that’s behind playing the Red Sox is out of this world. Those games are always crazy intense, the atmosphere like nothing he’s ever experienced before, and as much as his nerves rile him up, he thrives in conditions like that.

The fact that they get to go to London to play this year on top of their usual games is fucking amazing.

He’s only geeking out the slightest bit because a boy from Cincinnati should not be allowed to do something like that.

“She’s also very particular about what I buy. Sometimes I swear she’s your child and not mine.”

“Well, I do have a type,” Elsa hums as she walks into the room still dressed in her pajamas, as most everyone should be on a Sunday morning, “but I promise you that those girls are yours, Liam.” She leans into her husband and presses her lips against his temple, making Liam close his eyes and smile. True love and all that. “But if I had to have another baby daddy, I guess we could keep it in the Jones line.”

“That’s really messed up,” he groans, picking at his cereal. “Like, seriously. That is not happening.”

“What? You don’t find my wife attractive?” Liam looks so put out, his lips curved downward and his brows furrowed as he pulls Elsa back to his side, her leg half sitting on top of his.

“I feel like there’s no way for me to answer this question.”

“I think you embarrassed him, honey,” Elsa teases, patting Liam’s hands over her stomach. “His ears are all red. You can see it even though his hair is growing out.”

“It’s just like when he was a kid.”

“I hate both of you,” he grumbles, taking another bite out of his spoonful of Lucky Charms, which does not at all help his cause. “I come over here to spend time with my family on a rare day off, and you guys treat me like this.”

“You play every five days. You have days off.”

“I work during them.”

“For like an hour.”

“Plus, all the time it takes me to get to the stadium. Plus, I’m always on a plane even when I’m not playing. Only occasionally do I get to sit on my ass at home, which I’ve never understood. I feel like I don’t need to go on nearly every road trip.”

“Comradery or something.”

“Eh.”

“We’re just teasing,” Elsa sighs, getting up from her spot in Liam’s lap to lean over the counter and press a kiss into Killian’s cheek. “Of course we’re happy to have you here. Me especially. I swear Liam goes into withdrawals when he doesn’t see you for a couple of days. I’m going to go check on the girls, but I’ll be back, okay?”

“Bye, Els,” he hums, waving her away as she squeezes Liam’s shoulder and walks out of the room to go upstairs to spend time with the girls in their playroom. They know that he’s here, but they apparently are too engrossed in their toys to want to come see him. It’s fine. It doesn’t bother him at all. Definitely not. “So, you really miss me that much, do you? I had no idea. The daily calls and texts weren’t enough.”

Liam rolls his eyes in that particular big brother fashion where it’s just patronizing enough for it to slightly rub Killian the wrong way. He loves his brother, but it doesn’t mean they don’t have their moments. Eight years apart and different life styles can lead to that.

“So, I heard from Dad yesterday.”

Killian drops his spoon into his bowl, the metal clanging against the glass, and his heart pounds in his chest as he tries to wrap his head around what Liam just said. He tries to speak, but it comes out as more of a cough, something that gets stuck in his throat and makes him feel like a lung is trying to escape him.

“W-what the…how did he get in contact with you?”

“Through my patient portal of all things.” When Killian raises his brow, Liam explains. “How people make appointments with me. There’s a place for notes at the bottom. He made an appointment and left one asking if we could meet.”

“Did you reply?”

“No. God no.” Liam runs his hands through his hair, his fingers getting stuck in a tangle in the curl, and that’s weirdly how Killian feels right now. “I had to refer him to another doctor since I don’t treat family, at least that’s what I told my nurse, but I’m not replying to that. He doesn’t deserve the time.”

“He’s a bastard.”

“He is. I’m not sure what he wants.”

“Money,” Killian scoffs, tapping his fingers against the countertop before reaching up to grab the chain around his neck while anger and resentment boil up in him over their father and how shitty he is. “It’s always been money for him so that he can buy more booze and gamble some more. I’m pretty sure the only reason he doesn’t try to make money off of the press about me is because he makes enough gambling on the games.”

“It’s a good thing he doesn’t do that.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him to start one day.”

“I don’t know – I’m not sure that I understand him. If he wanted money, all he has to do is sell stories about you to the press. It wouldn’t be hard for him.”

“He hasn’t talked to me since I was nineteen years old. He has no fucking stories.”

Liam nods his head, his lips pressed together in a tight smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t – I didn’t want to tell you, but I figured you deserved to know that he’s trying to get in contact with me. He could try you next.”

“Aye, I know.” He tightly closes his eyes, willing away the tears that want to come. He will not get frustrated over Brennan Jones. He will not. He hasn’t been in his life for nearly ten years, and he’s not going to rent space in it now. “I’ll let you know if he does, but you know he’s more likely to talk to you anyways. You were always much more agreeable than me.”

“You are a bit of a pain in the ass.”

“Whatever,” Killian laughs, picking up his spoon again to eat some more of his cereal. If Liam is joking, that means this conversation is over, and he’s more than glad for it. “Are Elsa’s parents still coming over for dinner?”

“It’s Sunday. That means the entire Karlsson family comes for dinner at one our places. You want to stay for tonight?”

“Nah, I think I’ll probably make something at home. Next week is the week at Anna’s though, right? I’ll come for that.”

“You sure?”

“Hell, yeah. Anna is by far the best cook out of all of you guys.”

“That’s a good point.”

There’s a pounding down the stairs, little feet making big moves, and before he knows it, there’s two blonde heads crashing into the kitchen, their socks making them skid across the tile floor.

“Daddy,” Addy squeaks, running up to Liam’s barstool and practically climbing on top of him as she gets in his face, while Lucy is just a few steps behind, “Mommy says that you will take us outside to draw on the sidewalk with our new chalks.”

“Did she now?” he chuckles, grabbing onto Addison so that she doesn’t fall. “And what is Mommy doing that she is not down here to tell me this?”

“She’s on the phone with Anna. I think she is angry with Uncle Kris,” Addy whisper-shouts.

“Hi, Killian,” Lucy whispers, tugging at the hem of his shirt. She’s much more reserved than her older sister, a quiet little thing even when she has her moments, and he can always count on her to want to sit and read a book with him.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he sighs, reaching down to pick her up and place her on his knee, giving her his last spoonful of the cereal. “Do you want to go draw outside? You guys have new chalks?”

“We have a new blue one and pink one and a thousand orange ones.”

“A thousand? That’s a lot of orange.”

“It’s not really a thousand orange ones, Lucy,” Addy groans, always the one to correct her little sister. “It’s more like seven, Uncle Killian.”

“Seven is pretty close to a thousand, I think.”

“You always were bad at math,” Liam chuckles.

“I was getting a degree in Physics. How does that make me bad at math?”

“What’s Physics?” Addy asks.

“Something you never want to have to deal with.” Liam clasps his hands together. “Alright, who is ready to go outside and draw with some chalk?”

There are actually eight orange chalk sticks, and he uses them to draw Lucy several tigers and a few orange sea lions. They apparently went to the zoo last week, which is something he didn’t know about, and animals are all the rage right now. Maybe not accurate animals, but animals all the same. Lucy is into tigers and penguins while Addy is far more interest in elephants and their “gigantic” ears, and he and Liam try to help draw out the zoo for them across the sidewalk in front of their townhouse. He’s sure someone will take issue with it, but their neighbors never complain when they do this, always complimenting the girls on their art and playing along.

It’s how they should be.

Addison gives him a lecture on everything she learned about lemurs while Lucy tells him that she thinks sea lions are slippery, and he can’t help but laugh at the two of them and the child-like innocence and joy that they bring into his life. They don’t have real worries, not really, and even when he feels like he’s spiraling out of control, they often bring him back to earth with their sweet gestures and funny bickering and inability to decide whether they can call him Uncle Killian or just Killian.

Plus, without a doubt, they are his biggest fans.

He likes that a lot.

And he likes getting to do things like draw with them. His mom used to do this with him, Liam too when they could get him to come outside and draw – he always claimed that he was too old for it, but he’s now currently got purple chalk on his nose – and this always reminds him of those times. Amelia Jones deserved every chance to get to know her grandchildren and draw on sidewalks with them, and he’ll forever hate that cancer took her away from all of this.

“Oh my goodness,” Elsa gasps as she comes out onto their front steps, now dressed in jeans and simple white sweater with her hair pulled back in a braid, “am I at the zoo? I don’t remember buying a ticket.”

“It’s free for you, darling,” Liam says, and Killian does not roll his eyes at that. Definitely not. “Would you like to come see the orange sea lion exhibit?”

“Of course.” She walks down the stairs and avoids every drawing, swiftly walking along the path that he left open for this exact purpose. “Oh, Lucy, your butterfly is very pretty. Does it have a name?”

“Anna.”

“Like my sister?”

“And grandma. When are they coming to our house?”

“Anna is coming right now, actually,” she hums, still stepping along while he continues to work on a rather magnificent lion if he does say so himself. “She and Kris had their lunch plans cancelled, so they’re coming to invade our zoo.”

“They have to buy a ticket,” Addy says, standing from the ground and wiping her hands on her pants, which only smears the chalk everywhere.

“Addy, I didn’t know you were a business woman.”

“I’m not a woman, Killian,” she scoffs, placing her hands on her hips. “I am a girl.”

“My bad,” he laughs as he holds his hands up in defeat. “I didn’t know you were a business girl.”

“I am. I want to make money to buy a bicycle.”

He knows for a fact that she’s getting a bicycle from him for her birthday at the end of June, but he is certainly not going to say anything to her now, the little spitfire charging her aunt and uncle money to view their sidewalk zoo. Next thing he knows she’s going to be charging him an entrance fee to go back into the house.

“I spy someone with blonde hair and blue eyes.”

Killian whips his head to the side to see Anna and Kris walking from down the street, obviously having taken the train to get here, and both Lucy and Addison get up from where they are and shoot down the sidewalk to run into Anna’s arms. Anna is far too small to pick both of them up, but she manages it, even if it takes a little help from Kris, and she’s got the both of them in a frenzy of laughter and giggles and maybe even a bit of kicking and screaming. As good as he is with the girls, there’s no one like Anna.

It helps that she’s a bit of a child herself, but that’s only meant in the best way.

“I see we’ve put the adults to work,” Anna laughs as she hauls the girls over to where they are. He stands up, Liam doing the same, and it’s a bit of a mess to have to avoid all of the chalk even with the path that he left out. “As they should be.”

Liam and Elsa hug Anna and Kris first, a flurry of exchange of words and hugs and laughter. It’s always so much when they’re around, especially with all of the talking that never seems to end, but it’s always worth it. His family was so small for so long, and while it’s not huge, it’s more than enough.

“I didn’t know I was going to see you,” Anna gasps at him before her arms come to hang around his neck. “I’m sorry we haven’t been able to come to a game yet.”

“If you guys came to every single game,” he whispers in her ear as he pats her back, “I’d be worried about you. There’s a lot of them.”

“We’re coming on Tuesday, though. Right, Kris?”

“Right.” Anna pulls back just for Kris to step into the hug. “There’s no way in hell that I’m missing the first Red Sox rivalry game, especially when you’re the starter.”

“You’re not supposed to use that word, Uncle Kris,” Addy point out.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean it.” He looks back to Killian then, whispering, “I totally meant it. I can’t wait. And it’s a night game. That’s just – that’s the best.”

“Sometimes I think Kris only loves me because of you, baby Jones,” Anna sighs.

“I hate that nickname.”

“It’s better than calling you BJ.”

“There are children around,” Liam sing-songs.

“What’s a BJ?” Lucy asks.

“Oh my God,” Elsa mumbles.

“See,” Anna laughs. “Baby Jones is much better.”

“I do not only love you because of Killian. I asked you out before I even knew he was your sister’s brother-in-law.”

“But you stayed because you knew that.”

“That is not true.”

“It is.”

“You are so ridiculous.”

“It’s kind of my number one personality trait.”

“Wait,” Addy gasps, making them all look away from the playful bickering to see her standing at the front door, “Anna and Kris didn’t pay to look at our zoo.”

-/-

“How many do you want to do today?” Will asks as they walk through the tunnels to make their way out onto the field.

“Twelve.”

“That’s oddly specific.”

“I’m an oddly specific guy.”

“That is very true. If I didn’t like you so much, I’d probably hate you.”

“Thanks?” Killian laughs, not entirely sure what to say back to that. Scarlet is such a character, but man is he glad to have him as a friend. Road trips wouldn’t be quite the same without his inability to listen to music at a normal volume and shut up when everyone else on the plane is trying to sleep. It’s the same with gamedays. Will curses more under his breath than anyone, and he swears any umpire they have is always five seconds away from fining him for something, pretty much ready to fine him for existing. “Are you ready to get booed when we walk out here.”

“It is not my fault that the Sox didn’t want me,” Will groans, adjusting his helmet in his hands and hitting his knuckles against it. “I obviously wanted to play for my home team, and now every time we play them, it’s like I’m Edward Snowden.”

“Look at you and your references.”

“I know things.”

“Of course you do.”

“And I like living here, playing here, by the way. And I kind of get this kind of sick satisfaction out of beating them, you know?”

“Absolutely. It’s the best feeling.”

“Exactly. I expect a no-hitter from you tonight.”

Killian barks out a laugh, tilting his head back as they come closer to the door to lead them to the bullpen. “Maybe if Al takes me out after one inning, I’ll get that.”

“I was thinking more like you playing your full five. Rodriguez is your relief pitcher tonight, and he gets all nervous.”

“It’ll be fine, Scarlet. Have some fun. That’s why we’re here isn’t it?”

Killian pushes open the doors that lead to the bullpen, Will following right behind him, and when they walk up the stairs and onto the field to make their way fully into the bullpen, there are already a few hundred fans crowding in the bottom of the stadium, most of them not in their seats. Sure enough, the cheers that sound out after he walks out are soon replaced by boos for Will (the fans only hate him on days like this, but Will acts like it’s all the damn time), and he takes a few minutes to sign a few autographs for the kids that have hats and balls. He knows that a lot of times their parents are going to sell them off, but he holds out hope that some of the kids really just want his autograph for themselves.

The fact that there are children wanting his autograph in the way that he wanted players’ autographs growing up absolutely blows his mind.

Really.

So that’s why he usually goes for the children, making sure to get all of them before focusing on a few adults. But he can’t stay doing that forever. He’s got to warm up now that he’s had his shoulder massaged and iced, and he doesn’t want to be too tight at the start of the game.

Once he’s finished signing autographs, he and Will toss the ball back and forth just to warm him up a little bit more before he starts to actually practice his pitches. Journey music is blaring through the stadium’s speakers, and he can hear the place getting louder and louder minute by minute as more people fill in and the sky continues to darken with an orange glow as the sun starts to set. This is the kind of night any player lives for. Sure, there are bigger nights. There are game seven of the Series kind of nights and nights where your niece has told you that her teacher is watching so you have to win. Those are big, maybe one more than the other, but rivalry nights, rivalry series, those are the things to live for.

And being on their home field for it makes it all the better.

As he throws his practice pitchers, stretching is arm out when he needs it, the crowd begins to fill in, the noise level getting louder as the sun sets further and their start time gets closer, stadium lights coming to life an adding an entire other type of buzz to his ears. It’s a bit humid tonight, but still a comfortable April evening, and he can feel sweat forming at the back of his neck as he throws his last-warm up pitch with Will before they grab their things and head back inside, jogging down the hallways to get to the dugout so that he can get to the mound, everyone else in their place.

The anticipation builds within him, his heart hammering in his chest and making is throat a little dry as he nods at Al and Leroy, a slight smile on his face to reassure them that everything is going to be fine.

As always, he steps up to the mound and looks at the stadium full of people around him.

Ready.

-/-

Two hours later, it’s six runs to none for the Yankees when he steps off the mound and into the dugout, Al telling him that he’s done for the night. It’s what he expected, especially when they’re winning the way they are, and he grabs a cup of water from the cooler, and walks through the door to go into the hallways to take him back to the locker room.

Except right when he steps inside, a blast of cool air hitting him, he sees Emma Swan and Jeff…something. He honestly can’t remember the man’s name at the moment, but he’s pretty sure it was Jeff, last name unclear. They’re very obviously waiting for him, and he stops walking to gulp down the water, letting it cool him down a bit as he takes Emma in.

She’s wearing black jeans that hug the curves of her legs and a white button down that’s tucked into the front, white sneakers gracing her feet. Her hair is down in loose waves, and his mind wonders if it’s as soft as he imagines it is.

Is it wrong for him to imagine that?

Does he have any reason to think that he should?

It’s been a week since he saw her last. Scratch that. It’s been a week since he talked to her last. He saw her on the jumbotron during the White Sox game on Friday. She was eating a hot dog, and he wonders if it’s now a thing to show her eating during games. Someone in the broadcasting office either has it out for her, or one of her coworkers has bribed someone. He can’t think of any other reason why that would keep happening.

(Even if he does have to admit that it can be funny at times since she’s not the most graceful eater.)

But he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about her in the week since he ran into her at the hotel in Houston and pretty much invited himself into eating breakfast with her. It was a bold move on his part, one that he can’t quite believe that he did, but then again, he can. When it comes to Emma Swan, he seems to both not think and overthink things all at once. He wonders if he’s allowed to admire the way her ass looks in her jeans while also sitting down at breakfast with her without any invitation and talking for two hours, only a few silences between them. It was…wonderful, actually, to truly get to know her and talk to her and know more about who she is.

He had no idea that she was a foster kid, that she doesn’t know her parents outside of David’s mom. His heart stung for her, stings for her, and how much hurt he’s sure she went through. He can’t pretend to know what that’s like. He has his own issues with losing his mom and cutting his dad out of his life, but he at least knew them.

Besides that, he had no idea that she was as witty and charming as she is, and he has no idea how he ever lived not knowing that she likes sugar too much and calls him twenty-nine. That is entirely too dramatic, but that’s how he is.

It’s been a long damn time since he’s fancied a girl for more than just her looks, and while that is what he was attracted to her at first, he actually wants to get to know her now.

If that’s what she wants. He’s not pulling any more shit like he did after the Series. He can’t do something like that again when it was such an asshole move.

“Twenty-nine,” Emma smirks, looking his way with a bright white smile on her face. That’s a smile he’d kind of like to get used to even if he knows that he can’t.

“Swan,” he nods, wiping some more sweat off of his brow and adjusting his hat, knowing better than to take it off to show the awful sweaty hair that he has going on right now. “Jeff. Am I doing an interview? Is it live?”

“It’s not live,” Emma tells him, stepping over to his side as Jeff moves around. He’s been through this routine enough times before, so he knows to back up to the wall with their roster written across it and stand on the side as Emma stands next to him. He can smell the vanilla of her perfume. “But it is an interview. You ready?”

“Always,” he winks.

She rolls her eyes before waving at Jeff for him to start the camera. “You didn’t give up any runs in five innings against the Sox. The last time you did something like that you were twenty-two years old.”

“Are you saying I’m old now?”

“Obviously. Anyways, that’s an important stat if only because this is the first of many series against your biggest rivals. Does that give you confidence for the rest of the season?”

“Eh,” he clicks his tongue, scratching behind his ear, “not really. It’s an incredibly long season with a hell of a lot of games, and this one’s not quite over yet. And what happens today can be the complete opposite of what happens tomorrow and for every game that we play after that. If anything, it gave me confidence in my arm. I think that’s the most important thing.”

Emma nods and smiles at him, listening to each of his words, and she asks him two more questions about some of his stats for tonight as well as for Eric and Arthur, and he has to run back through the game to answer them, trying to remember everything that happened. In the moment, it’s easy for him to remember everything, cataloging it all and working through it, but once all of the adrenaline has died down a bit, it’s sometimes difficult for him to recall everything.

It's a good thing Emma has a stat sheet, one she seems to have written herself.

“Thank you,” Emma sighs when they’re finished, the bright light on Jeff’s camera going off as he backs up. “Sorry for stalking you in the hallways.”

“I don’t think doing your job counts as stalking.”

“It does if I get really creative with it.”

“Well, okay then, love,” he laughs, grabbing his shirt and pulling it up to wipe some more sweat from his chin. “I hope you enjoy the rest of the game. Maybe don’t eat any more food while you’re working.”

He hears Jeff snort before the man walks away, not bothering to say goodbye to either of them. Killian is about ninety percent sure that he and Emma are friends, or at least co-workers who are fond of each other, but he has no idea when they talk. None at all. The man has to talk at some point.

“Does he speak?” Killian asks before Emma gets the opportunity to say something back to his jab about her continuously being caught on camera while eating.

“Who? Jeff? I mean, he’s not a mute,” she laughs, flipping her hair over her shoulder and sticking her microphone into the back pocket of her pants. He imagines that can’t be comfortable. “He’s just…well, he talks when he needs to and very rarely otherwise unless he’s super comfortable around you. I’ve spent years breaking him out of his shell.”

“You have?”

“Don’t be so surprised, twenty-nine. I have friends.”

“What makes you think I’m surprised?”

Emma waves her hand in the hair, circling around his face. “Your eyebrow is, like, in your hairline, and you’ve got that smirk thing that you do when you’re being all cocky and smug.”

His lips tick up a little more, and now he knows that he’s smirking. He wasn’t before, but he is now as he sways a little closer into Emma’s space, barely a foot between them. When did they get so close?

“Swan, I think you’ve been watching me, studying me really.”

Her own brows raise as her arms cross over her chest. She could kick his ass without question, and he has got to be incredibly disturbed to be fascinated by that fact. He is not supposed to be attracted to Emma Swan, not after what he did, and yet here he is.

“Yeah,” she huffs, “that’s my job. I feel like we’ve discussed this.”

“Sometimes I need a little reminding of things.”

“I thought you were smarter than that.”

“I like to surprise people. Don’t change the subject, darling,” he teases, angling his shoulder forward and invading her space as his heart ticks up a few beats. “You’ve been paying particularly close attention to me.”

“You make a good story.”

“So you’re saying I make your job easier?”

Emma scoffs, but he can see the slightest smile on her face, the annoyance simply not there. Maybe he doesn’t annoy her anymore after they had breakfast. And maybe he is being just cocky enough to make this flirting work.

That is what he’s doing, right? Flirting.

“You could say that.”

He’s an idiot, a complete idiot, who pushes his luck too far, and he’s going to blame everything on the adrenaline from here on out. There’s no other excuse for how he’s acting.

“Perhaps gratitude is in order,” he teases as he taps his bottom lip, fully expecting Emma to slap him.

Instead he watches as her lashes flutter, her eyes glancing over his lips, before she looks up to him with a challenge written across her face. “Please. You couldn’t handle it.”

She’s right. He couldn’t.

“Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it.”

Her lips part for her to speak, but no words come as she’s leaning forward and gripping her hands into his uniform, pulling on his jersey and pulling him into her until their lips are crashing together. Despite his teasing, he was in no way expecting this, and it takes him a moment to kiss Emma back, to move his lips over hers. His hands immediately find her hair, fingers threading through the soft strands, and he exhales into her mouth as he tugs on her upper lip with his mouth, listening to her moan.

Damn.

Emma Swan just moaned because of him.

She tastes like peppermint, strongly enough so that he imagines she just finished one, but he can’t really focus on that when the softest lips he’s ever felt are moving over his and the soft curves of her body are pressed into him. It’s intoxicating and exhilarating and everything all at once, and he can feel his heart pounding between his ears, the organ very obviously switching with his brain at some point because he’s forgotten how to think.

His legs shake when Emma’s tongue runs at the seam of his lips, and when he opens up to her, tilting her head to the right, her hands trail up his neck and into his hair until his hat is toppling off of his head and crashing onto the floor.

Whatever spell is between them is broken with the sound of his hat collapsing against the cement, and Emma pulls back from him with a gasp, her forehead still pressed against his so that he can feel the heat of her breath moving over his mouth.

What the hell just happened?

And can it happen again?

“That,” he starts, at a loss for words.

“Can’t happen again,” Emma finishes for him, releasing her grip on his hair and backing up so that he immediately feels chilled from the loss of heat. “I’m sorry. I – I’ve got to go.”

“Emma,” he calls out, reaching forward to grab her hand, but she’s already walking away, her strides larger than her natural gait as she moves down the hallway and disappears around the corner all the while he’s left standing there with his fingers unconsciously pressed to his lips.

#catch me if you can #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan #captain swan fic

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