#took my boy to the hospital and now hes on an antibiotic course

[spindle-and-nima]

I will be a little slow to answer asks and posting because spindle developed an upper respiratory infection and I'm caring for him atm

[faofinn]

Day 30 - Infection (alt 2)

@mediwhumpmay

The cough that the kids had brought home, as they so often did, had gone straight to Harrison’s chest. They knew it would, it always had done. Even before his transplant he’d fall sick easily, especially surrounding his chest. After his transplant the illnesses only got worse, as did the denial. The antibiotics and steroids didn’t fully work, but he didn’t dare tell Tai - he didn’t want him to worry. 

Of course, though, Tai was worried. Hars' immunosuppressants always made his illnesses worse, and the last time he’d got sick just after Christmas had seen him threatened with ICU. This time, Taidgh was sure, was worse. He was still coughing after his antibiotics, too stubborn to ask his doctors for any more help. 

It was a rare weekday that Tai had off, Harrison was also off with the way the shift gods had decided - of course he was still trying to work through it all. Steve had taken the boys for a few nights, to try and allow Harrison some rest. It didn’t stop him being up all night, woken up every hour by his own coughing and struggling to breathe. At some point during the evening, he was sure he'd broken ribs, so now even the act of taking a breath was agony. 

By the time morning had broken, Harrison was exhausted. He’d managed to get comfy, finding a position that didn’t have everything screaming in pain by some pure stroke of luck. Tai didn’t fancy waking him up, so carefully left the bed, heading down to make a coffee and some breakfast. 

Tai left him as long as he could, so it was almost lunch when he headed upstairs to pester his husband. He’d barely moved from where he’d left him, curled around one of the kids’ forgotten toys. 

“Hars?” He asked, nudging his husband. “Wake up.”

Harrison groaned in response, rolling away from Tai’s touch. 

“I know, but it’s lunch time. You need your meds.”

“Lie with me first?”

“Alright. Five minutes, okay?”

He sighed. “Alright.” 

Tai pulled the covers back, joining his husband in bed. He frowned, instinctively reaching for Hars. 

Harrison jerked back. “What are you doing?”

“It’s so warm in here. I think you’ve got a temperature.”

“I’m cold, I’ve not got - oh.” His face fell. “Thermometer?”

“Yeah, let me grab it.” He returned after a few minutes, resting on the side next to Harrison. “Let me check.”

Tai read it in his other ear, twice. Neither were good, very clearly an infection and barreling towards sepsis. 

“Hars, we need to call your consultant.” 

“I’m fine. I’ve just been all wrapped up. I’ve not long been off the antibiotics and steroids.”

“Hars, no. I’m sorry, but that’s not how it works.”

“You’re not the doctor.”

“And right now neither are you.”

“I’ve not had any paracetamol today, Why don’t I take some and see how it goes?”

“Fine. We’ll give it two hours, until one pm, but then we have to call.”

“Have you got my meds?”

“They’re downstairs.” Tai said. “Why dodn’t you come down on the sofa?”

“Fine. I’m staying in my pyjamas.”

“I would too. Come on.”

Taidgh pottered around as Harrison slept on the sofa, worrying about his husband. He texted Steve, giving him a heads up. Fao was messaged too, though Tai felt like he was snitching on him. 

Taidgh only gave him an hour, seeing how quickly his husband had changed. He’d already been pale, but he suddenly seemed drawn and beyond pale, even grey, and worry settled in Tai’s stomach. His hair was flattened on his forehead, sweat collecting on his brow. Tai didn’t need to have a steth to hear the state of his lungs. And he wasn’t sure if he was cyanosed or if it was his imagination. Taidgh knew his anxiety wouldn't help anything, so he swallowed his fears and sat next to Harrison. 

“Hey, love.” 

It took Harrison a moment. “Oh. Hi.”

“It’s time to call the hospital, Hars.”

“Yeah, okay. I feel shit.”

Tai wasn’t expecting his admission, and it only mad him worry more. Harrison never admitted he was sick. “Maybe we should just go to A&E.”

“Yeah, can I get my bag first?”

“Of course.” Tai pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll make some calls, too, let Steve know.”

He nodded. “Thanks.”

The nurse answered Tai’s phonecall as Harrison was in the toilet. She was just as worried as Tai was with this infection so obviously ravaging his body. She told them to head to ED. It was worrying, but Tai agreed, jotting down her instructions. He thanked her for helping, for the extra info, and hung up. 

“Hars? You ready?” He called up the stairs. 

His response came in a thud and a groan.

“Hars!” Tai’s worst fears flared. “Hars!”

Harrison was barely sat up in the bathroom, back against the sink cabinet. He had the decency to look sheepish as he smiled apologetically. “Sorry.”

“What happened?”

“I was dizzy and then on the floor.” He admitted. “I didn’t pass out, just dizzy."

“Are you sure? You hit something hard, I heard you from the kitchen.”

“Yeah, I know. I felt it in my arse.”

Tai had to laugh. “Okay, alright. Need a hand up?”

“Yeah, please.”

“Come here.” He offered him his hand. “Carefully, yeah?”

WIth difficulty, Tai managed to get Harrison up and downstairs. There was a huge difference in Harrison in just an hour. He looked so much more exhausted, his hair stuck to his head with sweat. His skin was burning to the touch, but he was so dry. The cough just seemed to be so much worse, each coughing fit more exhausting than the last. Tai’s hand against his back steadied him, but all Tai could think about was the crackles underneath his fingers. They'd definitely left this infection too long.

By the time they arrived at hospital, Harrison no longer had the energy to hold his head up, let alone stand. 

[moods1805]

Diary of an Intermittent Runner - Week 6

Again, not as many runs as I would have wanted this week. Had a bit of a cold and, totally out of character, decided not to risk making it worse and end up not doing Parkrun. I WILL be back on it in week 7!!!!

Why am I doing this???

This week is quite a significant one for us. Its 4 years since our cancer story began. Not that we knew it at the time - it took another 4 weeks before diagnosis. Not one of my greatest parenting moments. James came downstairs one evening and asked me to look at a couple of spots that were behind his ear. Being the totally caring, sympathetic and understanding dad that I am, I just told him that he was a teenage boy and that they are just spots that will clear up in a couple of days. I probably made some comment that he obviously doesn't wash behind his ears properly.

I think we thought nothing of it for a few days after that. It was then during the half term break that we started to get a bit worried that they hadn't gone. In fact, they seemed to be getting a little bigger. We were still not overly concerned - there was a bit of family history with cysts and we thought that was probably it. So we decided to take him to the doctors and get them sorted in no time. We went and a course of antibiotics was prescribed.

They got bigger.

Back to the doctors. We fully explained what had gone on. She was brilliant, but completely baffled as to what was going on. She told us to go to A&E and immediately wrote a letter for us to take with us. Our first (of many) experience of triage. James was seen by a couple of ENT doctors who are also convinced that they are cysts. They are tempted to try and drain them, but they are not 'fluidy' enough!! James was then booked in for a scan, which would happen in the next few weeks.

They got bigger still.

Two days later we are back in triage. We see one of the doctors from before, who is completely stumped. She takes us to see one of the consultants, who, after spending a good time talking to James and examining the lumps, decides that it might be worth trying to drain them. Off to the ENT theatre we go, where James is prepped (cold spray on one of the lumps). First attempt and... nothing! The consultant is called in, who tries with a scalpel!!! Again, nothing happens. The wound is dressed and an appointment is arranged for 48 hours later.

Back to the hospital and back through triage - we are starting to be recognised now. After what seems an age they decide to try James on a 48 hour course of intravenous antibiotics. So James is canulated (for the first of many times) and we wait for a bed. James is taken down to a bed in Riverbank - the childrens ward at Worcester Royal Hospital. The 48 hours turned into 72, with more prodding and poking and attempts to aspirate.

James came home, but the lumps were now affecting his sleep. We went back to the doctor, who measured one of the lumps for the first time. It had a diameter of 4.6cm. Pain relief was prescribed and back home we went. After a bad night we were back at the doctors the next day. The lump was measured again. It was now 5.6cm - an increase of 1 centimetre in less than 24 hours.

Back to A&E, back through triage and more prodding and poking. One doctor now decides that James has an 'A-typical Myco-bacterial' infection related to tuberculosis! James is admitted again and an ultra-sound scan is done the next day. The lumps are solid and confined to the right-hand side of James's neck. More X-rays and test are carried out.

Back home and James is given the all-clear to return to college. Which he does and even goes on a trip. A rather uneventful week leading up to Dan's birthday. Poor Dan, it always seems to happen around his birthday. He's 18 this year and I promise he will have the best time!!!!

Family came round to celebrate Dan's birthday. It was a really good day, but James was struggling. By early afternoon James is exhausted. The next day he is starting to complain of dizziness. So it's back to Riverbank. James is admitted and we are told that he will have a scan in the morning and there is the possibility of doing a biopsy. The morning comes and it is decided that they will go straight for the biopsy. I was allowed to take James up to the theatre. James was born in Worcester Royal - an emergency Caesarian in the emergency theatre. Coincidentally, this was the theatre that the biopsy was going to be performed in.

That evening, James was allowed home. Then the waiting game.

It hadn't crossed my mind, or even been mentioned that this could possibly be cancer.

James was admitted into Riverbank again after our local GP was worried about the state of the lump on his neck. The one that they had attempted to drain was a bit of a mess now. That evening, a couple of the doctors ask James, Bec and me to go into the activity room. I should have noticed something was up due to the 'Do Not Disturb' signs that were hastily put up.

'We've got the results of James's biopsy. There is evidence that it is Lymphoma - which is a type of cancer.'

And that was the beginning. One thing I can't stress enough is how incredibly lucky we have been. James's treatment started within days and we were told from the outset that they were aiming to cure him. The staff at Riverbank and at the Young Persons Unit at the Queen Elizabeth Hospital in Birmingham were amazing. Jen and Tracey, the Teenage Cancer Trust nurses at the YPU were as much a support for Bec, Dan and me as they were for James. Even after the first cycle of treatment, where his notes stated that his cancer was 'probably Stage 4' they didn't allow us to give up hope. I will write more about them in the coming weeks.

So that's pretty much why I'm doing this challenge. Sorry it's been a bit of an epic post!! I feel that the greatest thing I can achieve from what I am doing is to raise awareness. The knowledge that support is out there, not just for the patients but also for friends and family. The charities I have chosen are ones that are close to my heart as they have supported close friends and family in recent times. There are many more - if anyone knows of any charities that they would like to promote then please tag them in any challenge posts that I write. I know that I haven't got a massive audience (yet) but everything helps.

Right, enough of that now onto the running.

Just two runs this week - my usual canal run and Conkers Parkrun.

This weeks soundtrack:

Mogwai - Come On Die Young

Sparks - Indiscreet

More running this week. I'm hoping to do Worcester Parkrun this week - it's next to Worcester Royal Hospital, so it seems fitting that I do that one this week.

Until next week, stay safe

Pete

[harbouredsoulss]

Exit Wound

Authors Note: I need to preface this by saying I am not a medical professional. Have I watched Grey’s Anatomy? Yes. That is where my medical knowledge comes from, which says a lot 😂 Also I was ready to scrap this because ~ anxiety loves telling us we shit at things ~ but I decided against it. I had already written too much to just scrap it!

I really enjoyed writing this, though I did NOT love putting my EZ boy through that but he’s pretty tough so... Here is to my first EZ fic!

Also, quick side note, there is going to be a part two to this! This part was setting it all up for some EZ fluff! Keep an eye out for part 2! If you’d like to be added to my Tag List for any EZ, Mayan or all of my fics just let me know 🥰

I really hope you enjoy this! Please don’t forget to like, comment, & reblog. I would really appreciate it 💞

Part 2 available here !

Masterlist

Ez Reyes x [OC] Amalia 

Word Count: 1.4k 

Warnings: Injured EZ! Mentions of blood. Swearing. 

Summary:  EZ brought a knife to a gun fight. Now Amalia is stuck having to use her nursing skills to save her boyfriends life.

________________________

There are some things that should just never be seen, and this, standing here in the living room, watching the love of your life bleeding out on your couch, was one of them. Amalia knew she had to remain calm, she was the only one who could keep him alive. That and the many pieces of gauze pressed against his stomach. It didn’t stop the pounding of her heart, loud in her ears as she took in her lover before her. His body pale, and clammy. 

All her years of medical training hit her hard and fast. It made her assess the situation clearly and calmly. Though it wouldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts that arrived. Reminding her of how poorly this could end, of whose life was at stake if this all went badly. 

Gilly had pieces of gauze pressed against the wound, keeping steady pressure. Angel was rustling through her linen cupboard, pulling out all the towels Amalia and EZ owned. Coco trailed behind her as she made her way into her closet to grab a first-aid kit. 

“Did you see an exit wound?” She asked looking up at him as she went through the kit making sure everything she needed was there.

Adrenaline coursed through her body as she heard EZ in the living room continuing to moan as Gilly kept pressure on the wound. She tried to think of everything they had in the house at hand that could help, comparing that with what they had already grabbed. Coco looked at her, uncertainty on his face as he took in her question. 

“I didn’t look. Fuck. My bad. We were just trying to get out of there.” 

She gripped the med-kit and stormed passed Coco trying to remain level-headed. She knew it wasn’t his fault. It was no one’s fault. They were all just trying to get out of there alive. The last thing on their mind would have been to assess his wounds. They weren’t doctors. 

Neither are you, you’re just a nurse, she thought bitterly, you can’t do this. He’ll die.

Amalia stopped before the couch, before he could see she had come back into the living room. He was in so much pain, would he even notice? Every second counted but she couldn’t move. Could I really do this? She asked herself. 

Gilly looked up at her, noticing the first-aid kit in her hand. 

Tilting his head towards the kit he asked, “That everything you’ll need?”

I can do this. They believe I can do this. I have to.

“It should be, so long as the bullet and any fragments aren’t stuck inside.”

Angel was back dumping the linen he found on the coffee table beside the couch. He was frantic trying to arrange everything. Placing the med-kit on top she turned towards EZ and took his pulse. It was weak. 

“We need to hurry,” turning back to Angel she begun to give orders, “I need you to lift the top half of his body. I need to make sure there’s an exit wound.”

Angel didn’t even blink, he went towards his injured brother and did as she requested. A wail of pain escaped EZ as he was moved. She tried to keep the cringe from her face as she heard his agony. Leaning forward she did her best to be quick when trying to get a good look at it. It had gone straight through. 

Relief pooled through her body. She could have cried.

“Great, perfect! Okay Angel you can put him down now, slowly, please.”

Gilly’s hands were still on the wound, the gauze oozing red. Quickly she grabbed more, moving his hands she pressed them on top. 

“Coco, I need you to go to the kitchen. There should be a big bottle of hand sanitiser there. The medical grade kind. I need to sterilize my hands.”

She turned back to face EZ whose eyes were half closed, struggling to stay awake. She needed him to stay awake. She needed him to live.

“Angel, get some vodka, whiskey – anything. He needs something for the pain. We don’t have time for any drugs to kick in.”

EZ tried to respond, his voice a mere whisper no one could make out. Angel didn’t wait to hear what he had to say; he had disappeared. Reappearing at the same time as Coco. 

“Yo what’s with all the disinfectant? I couldn’t tell which one you needed so I grabbed a few.”

She couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. Thanking him, she took one of the bottles and began pouring it all over her hands.  

“The stitches probably won’t stay. The wound is too deep. Staples would probably be better. Why didn’t you take him to the hospital?” She groaned, fear settling in the pit of her stomach as she took in the materials, she would be using to seal his wound. 

“You know why,” she looked up, alarmed to hear EZ speaking so clearly, albeit he still sounded out-of-sorts, “you’ve got this baby.”

“Okay.” She whispered, gripping his hand, smiling at him weakly.

Suturing his injuries took time. In the beginning, when she weaved the first bit of material through his flesh, every wince or groan that left his mouth always made her look up in fear. But after a while she trained herself to stop. She knew if she wanted to keep him alive, she needed to work quickly. Angel and Coco kept him stable. Every attempt he made to move was thwarted by his brothers keeping him in position, not that his attempts were intentional. Gilly stood nearby offering his assistance when it came to removing the blood-soaked towels and gauze. She was grateful for his help.

When she was done EZ was asleep breathing slowly and softly. He had passed out towards the end when the final sutures were put into place. There was blood everywhere, on her arms, hands. Amalia was soaked in it. 

Gilly took the needle from her hands and placed it on the table beside her. He smiled at her weakly, offering words of praise at her successful attempt at keeping her lover alive. Angel stepped away from his brother and made his way towards her, hand reaching out to grip her shoulder, squeezing gently. 

“You did good hermana. He’ll be okay.” 

“He’ll be okay,” she repeated, “He’ll be okay.” 

She repeated those words in her mind over and over again, willing herself to keep the tears at bay as exhaustion beat down on her.

 ________________________

It was two hours later when Coco and Gilly left, leaving Amalia with Angel, and EZ who was still passed out on the couch. She had showered and cleaned up as much as she could. She was now kneeled beside EZ, a wash clothing hand and a bucket beside her to clean up the blood caked on his skin. 

“You should get some sleep,” Angel whispered, coming up beside her “I can watch him for a bit.”

“I don’t think I can sleep.”

Amalia looked up at him and tilted her head towards the kitchen, indicating she wanted to talk. The house was quiet now, the sounds of EZ’s voice shrouded with pain gone. Though they still haunted her thoughts. She made her way to the kitchen, leaning against the sink where blood-soaked rags and gauze were dumped in a pile. 

“He’s going to need more pain meds, and antibiotics to avoid infection. I should head to the hospital. See if I can get a script.” She said, voice wavering slightly. The adrenaline was slowly escaping her body leaving her shaky. 

“You could lose your job for that.”

“I don’t have much of a choice Angel, I’m not going to let him be in pain or let him die from infection.”

Her eyes were trained on the blood that had soaked into the material used to stop EZ bleeding. There was so much blood. She looked away, fighting the riot in her stomach. She turned towards Angel who was looking at her nervously. He was worried about her.

“The club has a guy for this stuff. Normally when we’re injured, we go to him but we had no time, EZ would have bled out in the van had we tried to get him there. I can get Coco and Gilly to go out and get some drugs. Ez wouldn’t want you to jeopardise you job.”

She nodded her head. She trusted Angel, the club, their judgement. Sighing, she rubbed her hands against her face, begging the stress to leave her body as she massaged her temples. 

“Okay… I just need him to not die Angel. He’s the love of my life.”

Tag List: @appropriate-writers-name​

Part Two is here

[kaimelia]

Can you write a story about link having an amputation and amelia supporting him

light

-------------

"Hey," Amelia whispered, smiling as Link opened his eyes, blinking quickly at the sight of the hospital room around him. "Don't try to move too much; your body needs time to rest." He rolled his head to the side to look at her.

"What happened," he muttered, his voice hoarse and tired, and Amelia watched as he attempted to keep his eyes open.

"You were in an accident, and you had to have surgery. You had a splenic bleed that Bailey fixed, you have a concussion, and your leg was trapped when they found you." She rolled the stool towards him and took his hand. "They tried to save your leg, but they had to amputate it."

"What?" His face tensed, and he glanced down. "Who did it?"

"Nico did. He had planned to save your leg, but there was an infection, and saving the leg would've cost your life," she hesitated, breathing slowly and pursing her lips. "It's gonna be hard, but Nico will come in later to talk to you about options for a prosthetic, because the earlier we can get you started on that, the easier the transition will be."

"I know all of this."

"You know it as a doctor, not as a patient." He exhaled quickly and looked away from her. "It's a totally different experience, now. I felt the same way when I had my tumor, but being a patient is so different than being the one giving the information, so you have to listen to him."

"Where's Scout?"

"He's up in daycare. Bailey doesn't want you seeing him just yet, not until you finish the round of antibiotics without any complications." He pulled his hand away from her and brought it up to his face. "Link, what're you feeling?"

"I don't know," he whispered, turning back to face her. His eyes were watery, and Amelia felt her heart sink. "I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"You didn't sign up for this," he shook his head. "I've seen patients and how it affects their family, and you don't deserve that." Amelia reached out for his hand again.

"I signed up for a life with you. When we decided to have a baby, we chose a life together, no matter what that looked like, so don't feel sorry. You would be here if it were me in that bed." He placed his hand in hers. "I know it'll be difficult for all of us, but we'll take it as it comes. Although, you might want to start preparing yourself now for Scout calling you a robot." He laughed softly and cracked a small smile.

"How long until I can get out of this bed? Even just to be wheeled around?"

"Maybe tomorrow; we're just making sure that you don't bleed out for a few hours, so you should get some rest and relax. I'm gonna take Scout to Mer's for the night; it's definitely past his bedtime," she muttered, turning on her phone and glancing at the time. "I'll check with Nico before I leave, and if you need anything, just ask a nurse to call me, okay?"

"Alright." Amelia squeezed his hand and leaned down to place a kiss on his forehead.

"I'll be back soon. I love you."

"Love you too," he responded groggily, closing his eyes as she pulled away. "Goodnight."

----------------

"You're nervous?" Amelia frowned at him as she noticed his fingers drumming against the examination table below him. Link shrugged.

"A little. I'm just more than ready to get a prosthetic and be able to walk without crutches," he said while glancing around the room, one he had visited so many patients in. "Thank you for being here."

"Of course; I wouldn't miss it."

"I know, but for everything over these past weeks. I couldn't have done it without you, and I know it's been a lot." Amelia simply smiled and him and squeezed his hand.

"I told you we'd get through it together. Plus, Scout's been enjoying the extra company at home. I was bringing him home from Mer's yesterday, and he asked me if when you had your robot leg, you would leave him for work again." Link chuckled and looked up at her.

"He definitely gets his clinginess from you." They both turned as the door opened behind them, and a doctor walked through.

"Nice to meet you," he shook Amelia's hand and then Link's, "I'm Dr. Rosenthal. You ready to get a prosthetic?"

----------------

"Okay, baby steps," Amelia muttered, rushing over to pick up the fallen chair. "Take my hand."

"I didn't think it would be this difficult," Link sighed, running his hand across his forehead. "Sorry."

"I'm glad it's a chair on the floor and not you." She stood up and held out her arm. "C'mon, I'll help you." She looked up at him with a smile just to be met with his teary eyes. "Hey, don't be upset. He said it'll take time to get used to it; you're learning to walk with a giant stick where your leg used to be."

"I know, I'm just sick of it," he bit the inside of his mouth and sniffled. "I haven't been able to pick up Scout in weeks; I just wanna hold him and walk around." Amelia sighed and placed her hands under his arms.

"Let me help you, okay? Because the sooner you get comfortable walking, the sooner you can hold Scout." Link nodded slowly and gripped her arms. "We'll go slow, take your time, and just figure it out. Don't step until you're comfortable, and if you feel like you're gonna fall, I've got you."

----------------

"Dadda!" Scout screamed, jumping up from the couch and running towards his father in the doorway. Amelia grinned at them.

"Hey, buddy," Link smiled and ruffled his son's hair.

"Scout, be gentle, remember? Come stand on the couch, and Dadda can give you a hug here," she patted the cushion, and Scout came running, jumping up on the cushion and holding his arms out. Link slowly made his way over and hugged the boy. "Hi," she whispered as Link walked over to her and dropped a kiss on her head. "How was your first day back?"

"Exhausting," Link muttered, dropping down on the loveseat. "But, I got through it. What are you doing?" He gestured to the mess of brown fluff in Amelia's hands. She held it up, and Scout beamed proudly.

"Well, your son found a pair of scissors and wanted to make his teddy bear look like you," she pointed to the hole in the fabric. "But-"

"The teddy's guts got everywhere," Scout frowned.

"So, I'm sewing up the hole so he can have a one-legged bear." Link shook his head in amusement and chuckled softly. "I was thinking pizza for dinner? We can stay in and watch a movie?"

"Sounds good to me," Link pushed himself up and slowly gained his balance. "I'm gonna get in pajamas and grab some blankets, Scout; you wanna help?"

----------------

"How long into the movie did he make it?" Amelia shrugged, glancing down at Scout asleep in her lap, her hand toying with strands of his hair.

"Maybe twenty minutes? He was out quick, and I don't think he's woken up since," she smiled and looked up at Link. "I'll get him to bed."

"Can I try?" She raised her eyebrows.

"If you're comfortable with it, go ahead." Link stood up and walked towards them, leaning down and picking Scout up. "You good?"

"Yeah," Link whispered, taking a slow step. "I'm good." Amelia watched him walk away, the noise of the prosthetic leg sounding with each step. She got up as she heard the door open and tiptoed toward the doorway in time to see Link lowering Scout into his bed, placing a kiss on the boy's forehead, and walking towards her. "You did it," she grinned, taking his hand and leading him to their bedroom. Amelia turned around to see teary eyes.

"Happy tears," he whispered, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend and sighing contently. "These are super happy tears."

"I'm proud of you," she kissed his cheek and pulled back. "A month ago, you were lying in that hospital bed, and I was half-convinced you would never get out of it, and now? Your first day back at work done, and you picked Scout up." He turned and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Can you help me get this thing off? I'm ready to collapse from exhaustion." Amelia laughed and kneeled down, rolling up his pant leg and taking off his prosthetic. "Thank you."

"Of course," she smiled, rounding the bed and laying next to him. "Thank you for being so brave throughout all of this."

"You're the one who's done everything for me," he held his arm up for her to lay next to him. "I seriously would not have gotten here so quickly if it wasn't for you. Thank you. I love you." She snuggled up to him, resting her head on his chest and looking up at him.

"I love you."

[p-inkgangstaring]

(Guardian AU! where Chu Shuzhi works as a bodyguard in a night club owned by Zhao Yunlan, and Changcheng is a male nurse AND Chu Shuzhi’s new neighbour. Changcheng has mostly the morning shift and Chu Shuzhi works at night, so the only time of the day they meet each other is in the elevator, Changcheng leaving for work and Shuzhi heading home to rest, or when Chu Shuzhi catches Guo Changcheng and saves him from falling on a daily basis. Things are going to change, however. Thanks to a drunk douchebag that stabs Shuzhi while at work)

He could have dealed with the wound at home, there must have been something useful in his first-aid kit, but Zhao Yunlan had insisted so much on going to the hospital and get a proper medication that now Chu Shuzhi was mentally begging for some painkiller. Not for the wound itself, but for the chaos in the emergency room that was giving him an headache. He hated hospitals to the core, for a series of reasons he wasn’t prone to explain. Waiting so long for being visited was probably in the top three of his mental list. He groaned, pressing the gauze tighter. The motherfucker at the club, even if drunk as hell, had still the chance to stab him by surprise, giving him a nasty and deep cut on his hand when he tried to stop the knife from hitting him again. The gauze was already saturated with blood, the pain still vivid and annoying. Despite his high tolerance to pain, Chu Shuzhi couldn’t deny that he would have killed for a pill of ibuprofen right now. Well, he was in the right place at least.

After something like 20 minutes of waiting, he got finally called. He took a sit in a small and clean room, medical instruments displayed on a white table and classic, educative posters on the wall. The sound from the outside was muffled and that gave him some relief from the headache, but when he saw who entered the room his head started throbbing. A tall, skinny male nurse with dark hair and pale skin greeted him in a soft voice. And he fucking knew that voice, since he could hear it every day at home from his noisy, clumsy neighbour.

“Good evening... or i should say, good morning?” the male nurse said, smiling. When the boy saw who he was talking to, however, he kinda stopped breathing for a second. Then, the brightest smile appeared on his face “Chu-ge! What a surprise!” The so-called “Chu-ge” glared at him:”Changcheng.” he greeted him, probably in the most ungreetable tone. But Changcheng didn’t seem to notice. Instead, Chu Shuzhi watched as the boy put on a pair of gloves and sat down in front of him:”What brings you here?” “This.” Chu Shuzhi said, showing the wound. He clearly heard Changcheng sucking a breath, gently holding Shuzhi’s hand to check the damage. Chu Shuzhi decided to ignore how warm Guo Changcheng’s hands felt on his skin despite the gloves.

 Changcheng looked at the cut attentively:”Does it hurt?” he asked, looking at his patient. “I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” Chu Shuzhi replied, raising an eyebrow. And Changcheng fucking smiled, as if that wasn’t a rude response, and Shuzhi felt like he was going to have an heart attack. “Of course, stupid question... Ok, now stay still and let me take care of it.” he then said, pressing a clean gauze on the wound. After that, Chu Shuzhi couldn’t help but stare at how firm and clean Guo Changcheng worked, humming softly while concentrated on closing the cut properly. He asked himself if the boy was somehow possessed by the spirit of medicine, since he had only witnessed him being possessed by the spirit of clumsiness. Where was the boy he saved from almost falling down the stairs at home, last week? The person in front of him couldn’t be the same, not with those steady and delicate hands that were bandaging him now. tight and clean. “My work here is done, I suggest you to take some antibiotics for the possible infection, since the cut was pretty deep, and painkillers when needed. The doctors will help you.” Changcheng said softly. “That won’t be necessary.” Chu Shuzhi replied, earning a disappointed look from the younger man. “That’s not a choice, you need medication.” he said while throwing the gloves in the trashcan:”Infections can be a real bitch, even for the strongest man.” Chu Shuzhi chuckled at the sudden swear:”Are you going to hunt me down?” “Don’t test me. I know where you live.” Changcheng replied, a blush coloring his cheeks. So, he could be cheeky sometimes, if pushed. Chu Shuzhi took a mental note of it:”Yeah sure. I will lock the door then.” That earned him a soft laugh from the male nurse, that held the door for him:”See you at home. And take your medicines, i’m serious.” And Chu Shuzhi actually listened to his advice.

[doctorthreephds]

Synapses: Part 5

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 2.7k

TW: Hospitals

Summary: You finally find the courage to confess your love. And then some. 

A/N: Just a note! This is the last part! Thanks so much everyone that’s been along for the ride. Enjoy <3!

Masterlist

Taglist: @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @green-intervention @eevee0722​ @jessicarabbit09​ @nazifa94​ 

The darkness surrounds you in a comforting blanket as a ray of light shines brightly, compelling you to walk toward it. At this point, you aren’t controlling your body as you’re sucked into the light, finding yourself at the small apartment in Paris that you lived in growing up. Cars beep outside the open windows as the warm summer air blows into the room.

“Mom?” you call out and walk into the living room, seeing your mom sip on a glass of wine by the window.

“Ah, my love. Come sit with me,” she says and you frown, taking a seat across from her.

“Am I dead?” you ask, looking out the window to see the Eiffel Tower shining bright above the city.

“No, you’re just healing. You came close though, it was stupid of you to stray away from that handsome boy of yours,” she winks at you as you turn to take her all in. She is as beautiful as the day she died and you take a sip of water from the other glass on the table.

“Spencer’s not my boy. He’s just a friend,” you state and shake your head.

“Ah, that’s not what I heard when you were on the phone with that tech friend of yours,” she puts down her glass and turns to look at you full on. For a moment, you’re able to imagine that you’re back in college, home for the summer after your Freshman year and enjoying the lovely Parisian summer. 

“If I’m not dead, then why am I here? Not that I don’t enjoy seeing you,” you smile and take her hand the feeling of her touch grounding you in the moment. 

“I’m here because I need to tell you that it’s time to live your life, my dear. Don’t let fear and grief hold you back from loving Spencer to the fullest. He’s just as scared as you are, but the two of you can have a beautiful life together,” she says and you feel tears begin to form in your eyes. You missed this, you missed her. The motherly wisdom that she could always impart on you, you missed everything about her.

“I’m scared,” you mutter, your voice cracking as the tears begin to fall down your cheeks.

“I know. But you’re not alone, you’re never alone. Don’t isolate yourself, you deserve more than that,” she takes your hand and places a kiss on the back of it as something begins to beep in the background.

“I love you!” you tell her before everything disappears. But it doesn’t matter. You know she loves you. 

A constant beeping wakes you from your sleep. As you take a deep breath, there is a soreness in your chest but no pain. Opening your eyes, the bright halogen lights blind you for a moment before your pupils adjust. You make out a figure sitting beside you, the familiar view of your father as he writes in his little black notebook. 

“Hi, Dad,” you croak out, your throat dry from the day before.

“Piccolo mio,” he stands up and walks over to your bedside, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Welcome back,” Dr. Kimura says as she walks over to stand in front of your bed. 

“Did you get the guy?” you ask and slowly try to sit up in the bed, your father nodding. “How’s Abby?”

“She’s on the mend. So are the three others. The strain and its cure are getting locked up in containment at Fort Deitrick. With all the other bio-agents people don’t know about,” Dr. Kimura states as you nod, feeling the warmth of your father’s hand in yours.

“I don’t want to know what else they might have locked up in there,” your father states and you shake your head at the thought. After studying toxicology for years, you knew that there were countless harmful substances that the government had to know about. It was inevitable. 

“I’ll leave you to rest. You should be able to be discharged soon once we monitor your progress and ensure you’ll be okay with the antibiotics,” Dr. Kimura smiles and leaves to tend to other patients while you look back at your dad.

“Where’s Spencer?” you ask.

“Send him to go take a shower and eat some decent food, he’d stayed all night,” your dad tells you and your heart warms in your chest as the aforementioned person walks through the ICU door. 

“You’re awake!” Spencer’s eyes light up as he sees you and walks over to the other side of your bed, a tray of coffee in hand.

“I’ll let you two talk,” your dad says as he grabs a cup from the tray and walks out, taking a sip.

Spencer gently hands you a cup, the tepid drink helping to warm your hands. Taking a sip, you deeply inhale all the smells and spices in the drink, lighting up when you realize it’s your favorite coffee from the cafe by the bookstore.

“It’s my favorite,” you remark and shyly smile up at Spencer who looks away bashfully.

“I wanted you to have something comforting when you woke up,” he mumbles and takes his own cup, sipping on it. There is a blanket of silence and comfort as your memory surfaces. You were ready to confess your love to Spencer as you were dying, but you were alive and well and he didn’t know. 

You think back to the countless days of eating together at his desk during lunch or traveling around to bookstores all over D.C. to try and find first editions. It wasn’t only these things that made you love him, it was his passion for learning. He was always learning and adapting, his mind working overtime like a computer that never turned off. 

Spencer also had a heart big enough to fill stadiums full of love, he cared so deeply for people even if he didn’t know how to show it. But, even if people don’t understand him, he shows his love in many ways. With this coffee, with the way that he brings treats to his friends when they are under the weather or sharing jokes and facts that make you laugh in a tense moment. There was so much to love about him, his mismatched socks and the fact that he could read several books in a day. The fact that he loves watching all sorts of movies and dresses like an old man but takes his coffee with the sweetness of a child’s palate. He is afraid of germs but doesn’t mind holding your hand when it’s cold or hugging you after you spend a Saturday together. Perhaps it was finally time you cemented your love for him.

“I love you,” you state and look up at his face, taking another sip of your coffee. Spencer freezes in place and your palms begin to sweat. Did you judge him wrong? Maybe he only loved you as a friend.

“Say it again,” he says and puts his coffee down, only to take your hand in his.

“I love you,” a smile grows on your face as he cups your face and places a big kiss on your forehead. A laugh bubbles out of your chest as your heart soars.

“I love you too,” it feels as if a weight lifts from your chest as you wrap your free arm around his waist and hug him tight. It’s a little bit awkward with all the wires attached to you and the nasal cannula, but no ounce of discomfort can match the joy that fills your entire body. 

“Ah, bravo. The two of you finally got past all your pining,” your father enters the room and you blush, hiding your face in Spencer’s chest. “Don’t break her heart because I could kill you and get away with it.”

“Dad!” your eyes widen and you stare at your father in shock as he shakes his head.

“I’m kidding. There is no better match made in heaven than the two of you nerds. Took you long enough, though. I married your mother and divorced her in the timespan that the two of you were dancing around each other,” he says and checks his watch. “I have to get to my reports, but I assume you can take her home when she’s discharged?”

Spencer nods and your father bids the two of you farewell, kissing you on the forehead before leaving. Humming softly, your eyes begin to droop as the medicine continues to course through your veins. 

“Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up,” Spencer plants another kiss on your forehead as you lie back and succumb to the alluring pull of sleep.

A couple of months later.

Waking up on the morning of your birthday, you try to bite back the disappointment of no messages and no calls. You expected something from your dad at least, an exciting text talking about how he had a bottle of wine with your name on it, but nothing. Shaking your head, you look out to the beautiful D.C. skyline and bottle it all up. You would be mad later. For now, you could enjoy being a year older. 

After grabbing a cup of your favorite drink from the local cafe and getting onto the metro, the day appears to be going alright, if not a bit disheartening. The air was beautifully crisp and your outfit was empowering so it was enough to get a jumpstart on your day. 

When you finally arrive at the Bureau and take the elevator up to your floor, your phone still not buzzing or ringing. It was fine, you had work to do anyway. You work swiftly and quietly to yourself, getting in the zone as you look at some evidence and analyze a couple of things in the lab. Working through reports, you find yourself forgetting about the fact that your genius boyfriend had forgotten your birthday. You guess that even people with eidetic memories can forget sometimes. Even with the distraction of paperwork, there was a small sting in the back of your chest. 

Snacking throughout the day, your stomach growls once you pack up and feel your emotions begin to boil over when your phone is void of any notifications. Birthdays tend to be disappointing mostly because of the expectation associated with them, but you didn’t expect to so disregarded. Just as the tears begin to form in your eyes, you get into the elevator and feel your phone vibrate in your hand.

From Spencer (6:36PM):

I’m waiting in front to pick you up. <3 

As you wipe a few rogue tears from your cheek, you frown and exit the elevator, walking out to the front entrance. Just where he said he would be, Spencer is sitting in his car looking out to you with a goofy grin on his face. You smile slightly and open the car to see a small package waiting on the passenger seat.

“What’s this?” you ask and climb into the car, placing the present on your lap.

“You didn’t think we forgot, did you?” he asks and reaches over to place a sweet kiss on your lips. You take his hand in yours and kiss back, pulling away slightly to look at him for the first time today.

“I mean, I didn’t get any messages,” you mumble and smile a bit sadly.

“Penelope would never forgive me,” he says before turning back forward and beginning to drive. “Now let’s go before we’re late.”

“Where are we going?” you ask and look over at him.

“It’s a surprise,” he states and you shake your head, looking out at the window as you get onto the freeway.

“Can I guess?” 

“Of course you can, but I’m not going to tell you,” he glances over and squeezes your hand before turning back to the road.

“Is it my dad’s house?” you ask and watch as Spencer licks his lips. “It’s totally my dad’s house, you just licked your lips.”

“What?” Spencer lets go of your hand to place both hands on the wheel. “That doesn’t mean yes or no.”

“No, but you’re nervous and that’s what you do when you’re in deep thought, so it’s totally my dad’s house,” you state smugly and readjust yourself in the seat, a huge grin on your face. The rest of the ride is filled with your bickering as the dulcet tones of Beethoven playing in the background. It’s oddly picturesque, but your chest is warm with the idea of this being the rest of your life. Spencer was it for you.

As you drive through your father’s neighborhood and make it to his mansion, you feel nervously excited seeing all the cars in the driveway. You could make out almost everyone’s car, sans JJ. She probably had to go see Will and Henry or was on her way with the two of them.

Stepping out of the car, Spencer’s present in hand, he moves to walk behind you with his hands in front of your eyes.

“What are you doing?” you ask as he carefully guides you to the front door. 

“What do you think the radio silence was for? It’s a surprise!” he remarks as the door swings open in front of you.

“Surprise!” several voices ring out as Spencer’s hands wrap around your waist. In front of you is your father, Derek, Penelope, Emily, and Hotch. Your father walks forward and wraps you in a huge hug, squeezing you tight.

“Happy birthday, piccolo!” your chest hurts a little from how tightly he squeezes you but he is quickly replaced with the loving arms of Penelope. Her hugs are the warmest and the tightest so you feel like your lungs might collapse.

“Happy birthday!” she says and you shake your head, looking around.

“Why all the cloak and dagger? I kind of assumed we’d all be spending it together,” you look around at everyone as you and Spencer step into the foyer.

“You’ll see,” Penelope’s eyebrows wiggle as she loops her arm around yours and drags you to the kitchen. There, a whole meal is laid out as well as a beautiful cake and presents on a small table off to the side. Streamers and banners are hanging all over the house, probably courtesy of Penelope, and everyone fills in around the island.

“Bon appetit!” your father announces and everyone begins to dig in and find their way to the table outside in your dad’s backyard. The night was clear and everyone makes small talk as you enjoy your food. 

In the moonlight, Spencer is stunning and you feel your heart skip a beat. He had to have helped orchestrate this entire thing, but you can’t help but wonder why it was all kept a secret. After eating, Derek and Emily bring out the many presents on the table.

Penelope gifts you a beautiful picture frame with a photo of everyone on the night you celebrated your new job and Derek gives you a photo of a bookshelf he built for all the new books you had bought. 

“What’s this for?” you ask.

“You’ll see,” he responds as you open up Hotch’s gift. It’s a larger rug, one that you didn’t need because you had decorated your apartment well. Emily gives you a record player and your father gifts you a wine bottle holder.

“What’s all this for? I don’t have anywhere to put it,” you let out a nervous laugh as your dad points at the small box that is Spencer’s gift.

Glancing over at your boyfriend he smiles nervously back at you as you pick up his present and peel back the brown paper it’s wrapped in. You pull out a beautiful gold key and a little note that says ‘Move in with me?’ As the words process, you are quickly overwhelmed with joy as you wrap Spencer up in your arms.

“Of course I will, you doofus,” you mumble and hug him tightly, your arms wrapped around his neck. Pulling back, you press your lips to his sweetly and laugh as everyone claps around you. If fireworks could go off, they would be sparkling behind the two of you as you bask in his embrace. He is your home, the person you looked forward to seeing all the time. 

This would be the first birthday spent with all of your favorite people and the first of many. You wouldn’t isolate yourself any longer. It was time you relished in the love that you deserved. 

[hedwigstalons]

Bad Things Happen Bingo - Virgil + Bloodstained Clothes

On to fic number four for @badthingshappenbingo​ although really it’s for @gumnut-logic​ who asked to have her boi whumped.  I’m still hauling myself out of burnout after work/life took over so the ending is a little ropey but I’m getting back there with writing again.

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go

Prompt: Bloodstained Clothes

Character: Virgil

Requestor: @gumnut-logic​

Words: 1397

It was Scott who found him.

Scott who found him but Gordon who realised something was wrong when his cheerful exuberance was greeted with neither fond indulgence nor growled warning to back off and keep quiet.

“Hey, hey!  All back safe and not a single mark on your ‘bird.”  Gordon announced his presence to the lounge, all sunshine and smiles.

Scott looked up from the desk he’d reached a good 20 minutes earlier, already reviewing the mission log.  It seemed the slower arrival of Thunderbird Two also heralded the end of his peace and quiet.

“Keep it down, why don’t you.  Can’t you see Virg is sleeping?”

“Bit hard to miss, what with him being flat out on my favourite couch.  What’s a guy got to do to get a sit down after a mission?”  

“Well, can’t you sit down somewhere else?”  He was getting nowhere fast with the data files, the holo-projection was flicked to one side so he could look at his brother without the haze of blue numbers getting in the way.

“Nah.  Besides, he asked for an update every time I flew Two and,” he checked his watch, “the big guy is due his antibiotics so needs to get up anyway.”

Scott checked his own watch and made a few calculations.  It turned out Gordon was at least partially correct; Virgil was indeed due his next round of meds.  He hardly felt the threatened ‘if I find so much as a scratch you haven’t owned up to once I’m allowed back in the hangers then you are one dead fish’ hardly counted as needing an instant update though.  Still, they were all protective of their craft and could get grumpy as hell when they were grounded.  

“Fine, give him a nudge, but go gently.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” a mock salute was thrown out as Gordon stepped down into the seating area and towards his slumbering sibling.  “Y’know, it’s odd he isn’t up already, Virg gives the rest of us hell over antibiotics.”

This was true.  Of all of them Virgil was normally so good about drug schedules for anything other than painkillers and he knew how important it was to take the full course of antibiotics.  Scott had been run to ground more than once when he had his own injuries and lectured by the medic on the importance of the correct use of antibiotics and the global threat posed by antibiotic resistance.  Gordon might be a pain at times but he was equally strict with drug regimes and Scott was about to become incredibly glad of this fact.

“Viiiirg.  Virgieeee.”  It wasn’t often Gordon got permission to wake the sleeping bear and he couldn’t resist a little teasing over it.  “C’mon sleeping beauty, time to wake up.”

The form on the couch stayed resolutely still and prone.

“Virgil?”  A little louder this time and with a slight edge of concern creeping in.  Virgil hadn’t moved throughout his whole conversation with Scott and also evidently hadn’t been roused by the earlier landing on Thunderbird One; he knew Virgil could sleep deeply sometimes but this was ridiculous for a day time nap.   

The aquanaut knelt down by his brother and gave his shoulder a gentle shake.  

Nothing.

Now he was up close he could take in how pale Virgil was.  Worryingly so.

He shook a bit harder and was rewarded with a groan in response but he was unable to fully wake the engineer.

“Scott!” There was still some clear concern now, mixed in with the tone of authority more commonly heard on rescues and Scott’s head snapped up and away from the figures he had returned too.  The look on Gordon’s face was enough to have him on his feet in a moment, crossing the short space from the desk and vaulting into the conversation pit.

“Call Grandma.  Gonna need a stretcher too.”  Gordon had started triage, checking vitals and making a well practiced assessment of Virgil’s condition.   “He conscious but I can’t rouse him.  Pulse a little high but strong.” Fingers were carefully slipped into the gap between Virgil and the back of the couch.  The hand that was withdrawn was smeared in crimson.  “Aww man, he’s bust his stitches.”

This information was relayed over the comms and it wasn’t many minutes before Grandma entered the lounge, trailed by Alan who came bearing a hover stretcher loaded with her medical kit.

“What do we have, boys?”  

Gordon reeled out a stream of information, half of which Scott hadn’t even realised he’d been gathering during his assessment.  He should be used to it by now, he’d seen it often enough, but he was once again surprised by how quickly his little brother could flip from annoying wind up merchant to active responder.  Pure professional.

Surprised, but proud.

Being transferred onto the stretcher, with its accompanying stab of pain to his injured side, was enough to rouse Virgil from his stupor.   The concerned words that permeated his consciousness were enough to keep him the right side of awake.

“What’s up?” he slurred.  “Feel...foggy.”

“Steady up, big guy.”  Gordon laid a gentle hand on Virgil’s shoulder, preventing him from trying to sit up.  “You’ve managed to rip your stitches somehow.  And looking at the mess you’ve lost enough blood to make you feel a bit woozy.  What’cha been up too?”

Virgil settled back and groaned.  “Was only painting,” he mumbled.

Scott looked at the canvas set up by the picture window.  A canvas that was huge and would have needed Virgil to stretch to reach the top edge. 

Stretching was a banned activity for a man who had only recently been cleared to leave the infirmary after being pierced by rebar in a building collapse.

Scott could picture the scene as clearly as he could see the part finished evidence of his brother’s labours.  Immersed in his art Virgil could easily have been distracted enough to not notice the damage he was doing, especially if he’d not long taken his painkillers.  The seeping blood and the exertion of painting would have worn him out until he gave in to the need for a nap and settled on the couch.

That same couch was now marred by an ugly, dark stain.  

Scott felt guilty for not realising something was wrong.  He was their eldest.  Their protector.  He should have known the slumbering bear was hibernating more deeply than usual.  Should have spotted the pallid skin.  The laboured breathing.  The slight sheen of sweat.

But he hadn’t.

If it hadn’t been for Gordon and his rigid committing to memory of drug schedules whenever a brother was injured Virgil could have been left to sleep and bleed, the leaking wound hidden out of sight while the blood leached into the upholstery.

Blood.

There had been so much of it.

He felt sick at the memories of the rebar, punctured through uniform and skewering his brother.  The spreading crimson stain consuming the blue so quickly despite their care not to disturb the wound any more than necessary.  The fear as hypovolemic shock set in and the adrenaline fuelled dash to a hospital to access the necessary transfusions.

A hand on his arm broke through his reverie and he found himself confronted by those same concerned eyes that had made such a thorough assessment of their brother.  Now it was Scott’s turn to be in the spotlight.  Appraised.  Assessed.  Triaged.

“I’m fine, Gordon.”  He didn’t need to hear the question before he snapped out the reflex answer.

“Sure you are.   Just sit down for me Scott, you’ve gone a bit pale.”  Legs buckled at the command and Scott folded into the nearest seat, Gordon claiming the next space along.  The comforting hand was replaced.  “Virgil’s going to be fine.  Grandma’s gonna get him sorted.”

“But…”

“It looks worse than it is.  He just needs to get his stitches checked and redressed.  The worst casualty is his shirt, and maybe that couch.”  He waved in the direction of the offending seat and Scott found his eyes transfixed on the mark; it felt like damning evidence of his oversight to check on Virgil.  “Now come on, we have a brother in need of rescue.  I heard Grandma threatening chicken soup as they took him off.  Unless you think it will help him learn his lesson to stay away from that canvas.”

[tracybirds]

Bad Things Happen Bingo #2 Virgil + Hearing Loss 

for @fictivekaleidoscope​ (EVIL!! EVIL THAT WAS!!) Had to get it out of the way early or my heart would have gotten all cowardly xD

What it says on the tin, so hope you enjoy it!

Edit: hi, my brain is tired, I must also shout out @gumnut-logic​ for helping me with the ending and reading things through

—————————————————————

The door at the end of the corridor was all the mattered. John is telling him to move, his voice getting sharper and sharper, the intervals between that same instruction being issued getting shorter and shorter. As though he was simply ignoring that one simple direction.

If he had focus to spare, he’d be yelling right back at his brother. He’s running already, he can see the display in his helmet just as clearly as John can. The hydrogen level is rising. The fire is getting closer.

He doesn’t intend to be in the room when they meet.

Steam is hissing from the pipelines, and he lifts his gloved hand to wipe away the condensation. He can’t get at the sweat, dripping down his nose. He can’t escape the heat.

He’s lifted off his feet before he registers the sound, the shockwave blowing through the building.

A sharp crack and the display in front his eyes flickers and dies. His breath quickens, making the most of the oxygen spilling out between the polymer seal in his helmet.

A wave of dizziness keeps him on his knees even as he spots the fire on the ceiling above him.

The pressure is building, his ears screaming against the change in equilibrium.

Virgil has just enough time to recognise the danger and pull himself into a protective ball when the second explosion hits.

Heat seeps into his helmet, the rest of his body strangely cool in a room filled with orange and yellow flame.

He can hear all his brothers now, indistinct as the pain in his ears flares.

It’s the last thing he hears.

Yellow and orange fade to black.

***

Awareness returned with a ringing nausea. Virgil could just make out the strains of muffled conversation bleeding into his consciousness. Blearily, he tried to open his eyes and a deep groan escaped him. He could feel a frown forming even as he shifted to find a more comfortable position.

Something felt off. Beyond the way the ground had changed from hard concrete to soft mattress. Beyond the way his head protested at the slightest movement. His senses were too dulled by exhaustion to work out what had changed.

A hand lightly touched his arm and he flinched away, eyes flying open to see a room filled with harsh sunlight. A silhouette sat next to him and the muted words seemed to take on a more urgent tone.

He peered at the figure, and Scott swam into view, his eyes drawn together in a frown.

“Hey, Scott,” whispered Virgil, the sound getting lost on the way.

Scott made no reply, only frowned more deeply, and Virgil felt his attention start to wander. He didn’t recognise his surroundings, not warm enough for the island and not sterile enough for a hospital.

A sharp tap against his shoulder drew his eyes back to his brother. His lips were moving and Virgil stared at them, trying to blink back the fuzzy feeling in his head.

Scott shook his head, the frustration evident in his sharp actions.

Virgil closed his eyes, struggling to comprehend what he was trying to communicate.

Too soon, he thought. He was rapidly sinking under a wave of exhaustion and the persistent buzzing was starting to wrap around his head in a dizzying manner.

A gentle pat pulled his eyes open one last time and he smiled dopily at his brother’s worried face as he slipped back into unconsciousness.

***

His awareness slowly returned to the sight of silent moonlight spilling over the covers. Every part of him ached and he had vague memories of being thrown across a room. His breath felt tight in his lungs, but worse than that was the dial tone ring that accompanied his every waking moment thus far.

It was starting to get annoying.

“Oh, hey, Virgil,” came a slurring voice out of the dark.

A shadow leaned across the bed, and he scrambled away, unsure of who was in the room with him.

“Hey, hey,” said the voice again, slightly louder now. “It’s me, it’s Gordon.”

The light at his bed clicked on and he stared wild-eyed at his younger brother.

The motion had done little to help his cause, and the buzzy sentences were starting to overlap like two people speaking over each other, arguing and pushing against his own frustration that the world didn’t sound right.

And he still felt sick.

“Wha’ happened?” he rasped, releasing the covers from his grip.

Gordon’s response was rapid, seeming to slice right through him as he tried to untangle the start of the sentence from the end.

“Double explosion.”

Virgil closed his eyes from the effort, no longer interested in the rest of the sentence he had missed.

“I feel it,” he mumbled. He brought a hand to his face and winced as he prodded a strange, goopy substance.

“Yeah, let’s leave that,” said Gordon, pulling Virgil’s hand away. “You want that where it is.”

Virgil stared at his brother, concentrating on the sounds.

“Your voice is weird.”

Gordon’s perpetual smile dropped and his eyes grew tight.

“Yeah?” he said, slowly and clearly over that incessant buzz. “Tell me how, big guy.”

Virgil slowly rocked his head back and forth.

“You’re all muffled. And the timing’s off.” He stared at Gordon, expression pleading. “Keep talking.”

Gordon’s lips quirked, but he obliged without question. Virgil couldn’t make out the content, already his attempts to process the sounds were wearing on him, but he needed to know what had changed. There was a reason he’d mistaken his brother for a stranger. There was a reason his brother sounded like a conversation with a meaning just beyond his reach.

“I can’t hear it,” he snarled, shaking his head.

Instead of replying, Gordon grabbed a tablet and began to type.

Virgil stared at him, emotions welling up within. Gratitude that his brother had noticed his distress warred against the hateful feeling of helplessness, that things might have forever changed.

The tablet made it too real.

You ruptured both your eardrums. Grandma says they can run tests tomorrow. Your brain scan was registering some weird stuff. No need for hospital, so Lady P offered a room.

Virgil read the text in silence. The frustration that had so freely bubbled up only moments before faded away, leaving only exhaustion.

There was one more thing he needed to know before he would allow himself to rest easy.

“Why here?”

Gordon shrugged.

“In case we needed to launch.”

His brain offered up the sound he’d stopped registering, hearing it in his memory as if for the first time. He inhaled sharply, squeezing his eyes shut at the phantom pain.

“Aw crap, Virg, hang on.”

Gordon ducked into the ensuite and returned with a damp flannel. Virgil took it gratefully and cradled it around his ear, warmth chasing away the steady ache.

He could feel himself relaxing, sinking down into sleep once more.

“Yeah, go to sleep, V,” said Gordon, settling into the chair next to his brother’s bed. “I’ll see you on the other side.”

 ***

He was pretty sure it was the incessant talking that woke him next.

He rolled over, dragging the covers with him in the hopes his family would get the hint that he was still firmly asleep.

There was to be no such luck as Alan pulled the covers back with a blinding smile.

“Virgil! You’re awake!”

The response in the room was deafening, the sounds overwhelming as they all tried to grab at his attention. The ringing increased, syllables overlapped and all the while Virgil’s brain tried to sort through the mess of sound, to try snatch any kind of meaning from the burst of chatter. But no matter where he turned, only a jumble of noise was left behind.

It would be easy to lose himself, he thought, watching his brothers pile words upon words on top of each other. The world had turned into a foreign soundscape, muffled calls, sentences slurring and sliding into each other, and dissonant voices he could no longer align with his memories.

“Boys! Enough!”

Sharp and discordant in a way that tugged on his ear, Grandma Tracy cut clear through the cacophony. The buoyant white noise subsided until he was left with just one sound. He was ready to gouge out his inner ear than continue to deal with that particular annoyance.

He didn’t catch what was said, still unused to the energy required to partake in conversation, but he watched his brothers leave without protest.

Grandma’s cool hand brushed against his flushed cheeks and she smiled softly.

“Now,” she said. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”

Virgil knew that fever was setting in, knew that the ache deep in his bones told a tale of injuries more serious than ruptured eardrums, but he saw his Grandma and his defences fell to their knees as she brushed the hair away from his forehead.

“Grandma, I can’t hear right.”

“I know, hon,” she soothed. “Your left ear’s got an infection, we couldn’t keep it out. There’s a course of antibiotics waiting for you and it’ll come back, right as rain.”

“The world…” His breath caught in his chest. “The world sounds wrong.”

He wouldn’t cry, not here, not now. Not over this.

“Tell me how, sweetheart.” Her fingers ghosted over his skin. “It’s okay, just tell me.”

The tears pricked against his eyelids.

“You don’t sound like you should. Like there’s two of you talking.”

“That can happen, that’s your ear infection messing with your sound perception.”

“Everything’s making the wrong sound. I can’t hear the pitch anymore.”

Virgil sucked in a breath and bolted upright, staring at Grandma Tracy in terror.

“Grandma, I won’t be able to play.”

Her steady hands found their way back to his cheeks and she pulled him close, careful to avoid the burns across his face.

“You will when you’re better,” she said, slowly and clearly, making certain he couldn’t mistake her meaning. “There’s been no damage to your inner ear, it’s not going to be permanent.”

He relaxed against her, folding into the hug.

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely.”

She smiled softly as he sank back into the pillows, before straightening in her chair, eyes firm as she looked him over.

“Anything else to tell me?”

Virgil shook his head.

“Sore. Tired. The usual.”

“Good,” she said, patting his shoulder. “This could have been a lot worse. In a few weeks, your ears should be healed and you can go home to work through the duty checks.”

Virgil smiled weakly. He didn’t want to sit around listlessly, with sounds blurring together and two-toned. He wanted to be up and moving, impatient for health and the world vibrant again.

Grandma Tracy leaned forward, and her lips moved with a murmur that couldn’t penetrate his ears.

He’d heard it enough times that it didn’t matter. His brain conjured the sound in her place and lulled him to sleep. At least he could still hear in his dreams.

***

The days went by and Virgil could stay awake for longer and longer periods. The antibiotics took care of the infection and the overlapping voices that had plagued his hearing. The tinnitus faded to almost nothing following a visit to a specialist who had patched his eardrums. Even his bruises had yellowed and started to fade.

“You’re sure you’re up for this?” asked Scott, hovering anxiously. “You’re meant to be resting.”

“I’ve rested plenty,” said Virgil. “I’m fine, a short walk won’t kill me.”

“Yeah, but if your not, it’ll be my head Grandma come after.”

“Stop worrying and help me tie my damn shoes.”

“Sure,” muttered Scott. “Can’t even reach down to tie his shoelaces, but no, Virgil Tracy is fine, just peachy.”

Virgil kicked him.

“I liked you better when I couldn’t hear you.”

“Not like it matters, seeing as you ignore me either way,” shot Scott back at him. “You ready?”

Virgil nodded, grasping the offered hand and hauling himself upright.

They walked in silence for the most part, no need for words between them. With no chatter in his ears, Virgil could focus on why he’d needed to get outside – he’d needed this. Needed to feel fresh air on his skin, to feel the warmth of the sun sink into his bones. To hear the birds chirping their songs.

He stopped and grabbed at Scott’s arm.

“Do you hear that?” he whispered, hardly daring to interrupt the joyous sound.

“Hear what?” Scott jumped to attention, slipping in front of his brother and eyes roaming the garden.

“The birds, Scott. I can hear the birds.”

“Oh,” said Scott, relaxing. “Yeah, man, I can hear them too.”

Virgil closed his eyes and listened, a smile creeping up from the hope blooming in his heart.

Scott grinned as he watched, his own spirits lifting with his brother’s discovery.

“I guess you’ll be able to hear the mouse in your room now too.”

He opened one eye and glared at his brother.

Scott’s lips curled just a fraction.

Virgil shoved him off the path.

[vannahfanfics]

The Healing Properties of Apple Beef Stew

Category: Romantic Fluff, Hurt and Comfort

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Ochako Uraraka, Eijirou Kirishima

Alternatum to The Healing Properties of Oolong Tea

Hey, everyone! I’m super happy to present my story for the KiriChako Event! 

Ochako bit down on her bottom lip as she rocked on her heels, nerves twisting her belly into tight pretzel knots. She worried her lip beneath her front teeth, tearing the delicate skin to smithereens but unable to stop. She clutched her cell phone tightly in her hand, her mother’s contact screen still up from where she’d just hung up the call. Tears beaded in her brown eyes as the tail end of their conversation rang hollowly in Ochako’s mind, coalescing into thick drops until they spilled over to roll down her ruddying cheeks. 

“It’s just a bout of pneumonia, darling. It’ll be just a short stay in the hospital—” Then her mother had erupted into a fit of hacking coughs, wet with mucus and infection. “Ooooh… Ahem, excuse me, darling. What was I saying? Oh, right. Don’t worry about me; focus on your hero training. I’ll be better before you know it!”

Though her mother had tried to sound positive for Ochako’s sake, Ochako could hear the weariness lacing her tone, and the nasally quality to her voice that indicated the severity of the infection. Ochako’s mother was climbing up in years after all, so severe pneumonia was nothing to be trifled with. The fact that she had to be hospitalized revealed how serious her condition had become, necessitating intravenous antibiotics. If she spiralled even more, she may even have to be intubated, and Ochako didn’t know if she could focus on training while her mother laid in a hospital bed with a tube breathing for her. 

Ochako struggled to get herself together, her sobs raking through her small frame. 

“Okay, Ochako,” she inhaled sharply, tossing her phone onto the bed so she could rub at her watery eyes with the heels of her palms. “Don’t freak out! Mom’s gonna be okay.” After rubbing at her eyes to staunch the tears, she gently slapped at her cheeks a few times. She closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing to ground herself. In, out, in, out, in, out. When she opened them again, she smiled weakly. She felt a little better, at least. 

“Still… I hate not being there,” she frowned, dropping one arm and tapping at her pursed lips with the index finger of another. “I can’t miss school to stay with her until she’s better, but surely Mr. Aizawa will sign a pass to let me visit her at the hospital for a little while. Oh, I know!” she grinned suddenly, launching herself onto her bed to retrieve her phone. Her fingers flew and scrolled across the screen as she avidly searched the depths of the web, beaming giddily and kicking her feet when she finally found what she was looking for. 

“A recipe for apple beef stew!” she declared triumphantly as she rolled onto her back. Apple beef stew was one of her mother’s favorite feel-good recipes; she’d always made it for a family member when they’d taken ill as a special treat. “I’m sure Mom would be super happy if I made it for her!” She pushed herself off the bed, still flipping through the recipe while worming into her shoes and throwing on her uniform jacket. She couldn’t make stew without the appropriate ingredients, and if she used her best puppy-dog eyes on Mr. Aizawa, surely she could make it to the grocery store before they closed for the evening!

About an hour later, Ochako stumbled into the dorm, her arms laden with two heavy brown shopping bags. Grunting from exertion, she toddled across the common room to the kitchen, attracting the attention of her classmates with her squeaks and huffs. This would have been so much easier if I could have used my Quirk! She thought frustratedly and slammed the bags down on the counter. She took a moment to catch her breath and wipe the sweat blooming on her forehead. Once her breathing had settled, she whirled on her heels to suddenly find herself face-to-chest with Eijirou!

“Oh! Hey, Eiji!” she cried, her voice several octaves higher than normal as she found herself intimately acquainted with his sizable pectorals, which weren’t exactly concealed by his loose-fitting muscle tank. The shark-toothed boy looked down at her with raised eyebrows, crunching a popsicle in his wicked jaws. 

“Whatcha doin’, ‘Chako?” 

“I’m making apple beef stew for my mom! She’s sick,” she answered. Her gaze was wandering now, trying to look anywhere but at Eijirou’s chest. He pouted sympathetically, but sensing her apparent discomfort, took a few steps back. Ochako found herself instantly relaxing muscles she hadn’t been aware of tensing, melting against the counter like putty. 

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“Yeah,” she said as she chewed on the inside of her cheek. “She was admitted to the hospital today for pneumonia… so I’m gonna bring it to her tomorrow to help cheer her up a bit.” Talking about it settled a cold core in her belly, so she turned around to begin unloading the groceries. She could feel Eijirou’s ruby-red eyes boring into her back, but he said nothing, only watched her arrange the vegetables and spices and meat along the counter space. Her hands faltered once she was finished, warmth rising to her cheeks like his stare was heating her up from the inside out. 

Yet it wasn’t… uncomfortable. The sadness lurked at the edge of her mind, threatening to drag her under as soon as it strayed too far from the shore. But if she had someone to keep her occupied… 

Shyly playing with the edges of the brown paper bag, she looked over her shoulder and said, “I’ve never made it before, so… if you want to, you can stick around and be my taste tester?” 

“Okay!” he grinned, his beam filling the room with light. It chased the beast of grief to the far reaches of Ochako’s mind, it huddled in the shadows where it could not reach her vulnerable heart. Eijirou’s smile was so infectious that she couldn’t help the way her lips curled up and a happy blush bloomed in her cheeks. 

“Okay!” she echoed in excitement. Eijirou scampered to her side, vermilion eyes sparkling as he inspected the boneless beef chuck roast wrapped in wax paper. He really does love meat, so I’m sure he must be very excited! Ochako thought with a small giggle, watching as Eijirou peeled up the corner of the wax paper to peek at the fat-marbled slab of meat. He trilled delightedly and jumped up and down on his toes. Ochako continued to smile at him out of the corners of her eyes while she melted butter in a skillet. It’s really cute. 

His eyes followed the beef when she tugged it across the counter so she could carefully unwrap it and plop it in the skillet. The meat sizzled and popped as it was coated with the hot butter, its pink flesh gradually turning brown as Ochako moved it around the pan with a spatula. 

“Eiji, would you mind slicing the carrots, dicing the onions, and peeling and cutting the apples into wedges?” 

“Sure thing!” he chirped, rolling up his sleeves before grabbing a cutting board and large knife and getting to work. Ochako peeked at him out of her peripheral vision and found herself blushing as her gaze fixated on his arm muscles bulging under his folded sleeve. With every rhythmic slicing movement, they flexed, straining the material. Hypnotized, Ochako watched until her face was glowing red hot. It was only when the sizzling of the meat reached a hiss that she gasped, hurriedly pushing it around with the spatula before it burned. 

What’s gotten into me? It’s just Eiji. She thought, cautiously looking over her shoulder at him. A content smile bloomed on his lips as he wedged the apples making Ochako’s heart flutter in her chest; Eijirou was so into hero work that it was hard to imagine him in a situation so domestic, and she fleetingly thought that he would make a good husband someday. She then released a squeak, disgusted at herself for thinking that way about him. Ochako, control yourself! Eijirou was nice enough to help you, and you’re over here being lewd! On top of that, your mother is sick! You shouldn’t be thinking about stuff like that right now!

She slumped into the counter like a guilty dog, pink-faced as she avoided his gaze. She reached for the sliced onions blindly, not even wanting to run the risk of accidentally looking at him, but overshot. She straightened like a rod as her fingertips brushed his wrist, and she could feel the muscle tense when he looked at her inquisitively. 

“What’s up?” Oh, his expression was so innocent, and Ochako was having such dirty thoughts, like how nice it would be to hold his hand. Steam practically billowed from her ears as she swayed in place, brain liquefying. 

“S-s-sorry… I meant to grab the onions,” she laughed nervously, scooping them up and plopping them into the pot. She then snatched up the jug of apple juice and the measuring cup of water to add them to the mix, still laughing anxiously and trying to play it off. Eijirou’s eyebrow slowly inched up his forehead as she chortled a little too long, making her choke on her laughs and clam up. 

“Uh… Ochako, are you all right?” 

“Of course, why?” she asked innocently as the water and apple juice spilled over the edge of the pan. “Oh my gosh!” she exclaimed as the liquid splashed down onto the hot stovetop. It popped instantly, sending boiling-hot droplets spraying across her forearm. She recoiled with a shout, dropping the spatula and stumbling back while clutching her stinging arm. Eijirou jumped forward to push the skillet back onto the stove by the handle, as Ochako had yanked it back and left it teetering precariously on the edge, before grabbing Ochako. 

“Are you okay? Let me see!” he insisted, peeling her fingers off her arm to reveal inflamed spots of swollen pink-red flesh dotting her inner forearm. Ochako whimpered as the burns hit the air, making the sting rise in intensity. Tears beaded on her lashes, but she refused to cry over something so silly, breathing rapidly through her nose to fight the urge. “They aren’t bad, but we should probably treat it,” he frowned, leaning close to inspect the pattern of burns. Ochako’s hair stood on end as his breath ghosted over her skin, not only because it somewhat soothed the burning.

“W-wait,” she said as he stood and began leading her out of the kitchen. “I have to add the spices and let the stew simmer for an hour…” 

“I’ll take care of it,” he insisted with narrowed eyes. Under Ochako’s instruction, he tied up bay leaves, allspice, and cloves in some cheesecloth and added it to the pan, then reduced the heat to allow the stew to simmer. He then marched right back over and grabbed Ochako’s uninjured wrist, all but dragging her to the bathroom. She wasn’t sure whether to focus on the pain shooting up and down her arm or how serious he was right now (and how attractive that made him). 

He made Ochako run cool water over her burn while he rummaged around the medicine cabinet for burn cream and bandages. Her eyes were lidded as she watched the water stream from the faucet and coat her arm, running over the pinkened skin in rivulets. Guilt coiled in her belly like a cobra, seeping venom into her veins. As Eijrou returned to pull her arm from the water and pat it dry, she mumbled a meek, “I’m a bad person…” 

“What?” he laughed, looking at her in amusement. “Ochako, what are you talking about? You just got a burn.” 

“It’s not that,” she sighed, deflating against the sink counter. A small heat rose to her cheeks as she mulled on whether or not she should explain something so embarrassing, but she’d already brought it up. “My mom is in the hospital battling a pretty serious illness, and instead of focusing on making her favorite feel-good dish, I’m thinking about…” she trailed off as the remorse surged up within her, spilling over in the form of the tears. The thick drops rolled down her cheeks and coalesced on the bottom of her chin before dripping down onto her burned arm. “I-I’m thinking about… y-y-y-you…” 

He blinked in confusion, his mouth slowly falling open. Though Ochako yearned to hide her face, somehow she couldn’t tear her gaze away from his face, so she watched the blush creep up his neck to spread over his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He cleared his throat, eyes rolling to look up at the ceiling, and chuckled nervously. 

“M-me? Wh-what do you mean?” 

“It doesn’t matter!” she wailed, slapping the middle of her good arm over her eyes. “My mom’s sick and I’m being selfish! I’m a bad person!” 

She dissolved into petulant sniffles, muffled by her arm as she smeared the tears over her skin. Eijirou was silent, which made the guilt and embarrassment reach a boil in her belly. She’d probably put him in an awkward situation by voicing her apparent crush. Even now, she was more concerned about him than her mother. She really was an awful, no-good— 

She sucked in a breath when she felt his lips brush over the burns on her arm. She wrenched her other arm away to see him leaned over, pressing feather-light kisses to the tender flesh; he was looking up at her with glittering red eyes, a hint of a smile dancing over his mouth. She could only gape as he continued to kiss his way up to the final burn before tilting his head up, flashing her a beguiling smirk. 

“Ochako, you’re not a bad person,” he said softly. Perhaps it was the way he was looking at her, or how hypnotic his ruby-red eyes were, but Ochako felt the cold flush of relief pulse through her system. She melted under his warm stare, a sheepish smile blooming on her lips. “I know you’re the type to worry… but the fact that I could make you forget about your troubles for just a little while... That’s okay, you know?” 

“Really?” she asked quietly. He nodded as he straightened up, gently holding her arm as he stepped closer to her. His other hand rose to cup her cheek, and she instantly pressed into it, relishing the callouses rubbing against her soft skin and the warmth radiating from his palm. 

“Really,” he assured with another nod as his thumb gently traced small circles into her skin. He then took on a bashful hint. “You know, the fact that I made you feel better… it makes me really happy.” They blushed simultaneously, but again, Ochako couldn’t tear her eyes away from his simmering gaze. “I, uh… I like you a lot. You’re sweet, kind and beautiful. You light up the whole room when you smile, and everything you do is like magic to me.” As he showered her with compliments, a blush blossomed over her face. “I would really like to go out with you.” 

Ochako’s chest swelled and her throat constricted as affection and happiness welled up inside her, like a geyser ready to burst. The tears bubbled up again, spilling over her lashes and down her ruddying cheeks. Unable to speak aside from a small whimper, she nodded vigorously. Eijirou laughed at her cute display and leaned forward to press his forehead against hers. He glanced down at her lips, then back into her eyes, before shifting to press a soft, sweet kiss to her lips. Ochako’s eyes fluttered as she melted into the kiss, sugary-sweetness exploding over her nerves. He held it for a moment before pulling back, so much love and happiness swimming in his crimson eyes that it made tears well up in hers all over again. 

“You’re cute,” he laughed, thumbing her tears away. Ochako pouted at him. “That just makes you look even cuter,” he teased and swiped his index finger down her nose. He pulled away, grabbing the tub of burn cream off the counter. “All right, let’s get you fixed up.” 

With a tenderness so at odds with Eijirou’s brawn, he massaged burn cream into her wounds. He wrapped them up in soft gauze and pinned them in place, then flustered her by placing more airy kisses over the areas of the burns. As they walked back to the kitchen, he pestered her with surprise kisses and tickles until she was a squirmy, giggly mess in his arms trying half-heartedly to escape his onslaught of affection. 

The stew still had some time left to cook, so they made some sundaes (and a mess, flinging sprinkles and chopped nuts at each other) until the stew had come to a good simmer and the beef was succulently tender. Ochako added the apples and carrots, stirring them in the stew until they were decadently soft. 

“All right, it’s done!” she said. Eijirou rubbed his hands together elatedly, eyebrows wiggling as Ochako spooned up some of the stew and presented it to him. He immediately chomped down, making a show of slurping it up and popping his mouth off the spoon before chewing on the beef and apples with a considering look. He then beamed and gave her two thumbs-up. 

“That’s delicious!” 

“Really?” she grinned proudly. He nodded excitedly before surging forward to wrap her up in a bear hug. She squealed and kicked her legs, holding his shoulders as he spun her around the kitchen a few times. 

“Your mom’s gonna love it! I’m almost jealous,” he pouted after setting her down but still holding her hips. “It’s so delicious.” 

“Relax, Eiji, there’s plenty for you,” she giggled, turning around in his grip to retrieve some bowls and spoons. He snuggled into her, resting his chin on her shoulder, as she spooned some of the stew into the bowls. She also sampled it for herself, smiling as the warm sweet and savory flavor exploded over her tongue and sent comfortable heat blooming in her belly. It really was such a feel-good meal, steeped with pleasant nostalgia. 

It was funny— Ochako hadn’t even intended it, but she felt healed just by making it. Of course, she was sure that her caring new boyfriend had at least a little something to do with that.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[buggiesbuzzing]

AMARANTH [ c. cullen ]

TITLE :: Amaranth

CHAPTER ZERO :: The Beginning of the End

PAIRING :: Carlisle Cullen x reader, various x reader

GENRE :: Drama

SUMMARY :: Once leading a life of what she seen as relative normality, a sudden change sends poor y/n into a disastrous spiral.

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MASTERLIST

Y/n had a normal life, as normal as she could possibly have, and she was happy with the mediocrity. She was rather successful; she was getting married soon, she was working as the personal assistant to a regional manager for some big corporate business and made good money — hell, she even made an effort to reconnect with her parents, before they passed away, that is — she even planned on going to college after getting married so she could pursue a career as a pediatrician. But, of course, life hardly ever goes as planned.

Her life came crashing down towards the beginning of January, during her bachelorette party with a few of her close friends. At first, she hated the idea of having a bachelorette party, but after endless pestering, her friends convinced her to go to a club with them. However, Y/n happened to more introverted and somehow came up with an excuse to hang out in the empty alley behind the club for a breather, and sneaking a secret smoke. She lit the tobacco and inhaled the chemicals, her lungs stinging since she'd abstained from cigarettes for a while. She knew they were toxic to her health, but in overly stressful situations, she would break out the ol' cancer sticks for a bit of relief.

The cool night breeze sent shivers down her spine. She was not wearing the most comfortable winter outfit. Quite frankly, she was freezing her tits off at the chill. The outfit she was in was a pretty small dress with a pair of black boots, revealing a lot of skin, which was borrowed from one of her friends’ closet.

Her cigarette had almost completely burned out when she heard some gravel being kicked around while feet quietly shuffled around on the ground. She became slightly paranoid at the thought of someone being in close proximity to her. She dropped the cigarette butt and stomped out the faltering flame, picking it back up once it was out and tossing it in an outdoor trash bin. When she turned back to see if an animal was causing the little noises, but she was met with a man who had stunningly pale skin and blond hair held up in a ponytail. She was terrified, and her eyes scanned him, looking for any sign of familiarity. Alas, she found none. He was wearing a pair of jeans, but no shirt, which she found strange, especially because it was January and there were flurries of snow falling to the ground.

Y/n had no idea what was going on, but couldn't help the small, scared whimper that she let out when he clamped his cold hand around her mouth with fast, bruising force, ensuring that she couldn't scream out for help. Tears streamed down her cheeks as he sunk his rather sharp teeth into her clavicle. She was terrified, she could only see a glint of red in his eye, before a rush of intense pain coursed through her veins. The blond pulled away from her neck, a bit of red liquid dripping from the corner of his mouth. She choked out a sob and fell to the ground once his hand left her jaw, bare knees hitting the rough, loose gravel.

The doors of the club opened, to reveal a couple of Y/n's girlfriends, worriedly chattering; the stranger darted off, not wanting to be caught. She struggled to stay conscious, her vision becoming worse by the second, black dots spotting her surroundings. She squeaked out a small "help" before collapsing on the ground entirely, the ache still running through her body.

The girls panicked, seeing their dear friend fall unconscious in their peripherals, turning and running toward her. At first, they thought she was a goner, but one of them thought to pull out a small mirror from their purse and stuck it below her nose. Although it was minor, her breathing caused a slight fog on the mirror, letting them know she wasn't dead yet. They let out sighs of relief and did their best to pick up their friend, but the heels they chose to wear were no help to them. Instead of attempting to lug her out and flag down a cab, they focused on trying to find out exactly what happened and who they had to kill for causing this.

One of the girls, Stephanie, looked her up and down, seeing if she had any injuries, and came across a large, bleeding wound on her neck that looked like a bite if you squinted. Stephanie pointed out the spot to the other girl, Lisa, while she fished a makeup wipe out of her purse. She used a wipe to clean up the injury, but Y/n hissed in pain as the wipe made contact with an open part of the wound.

Y/n's eyes opened, and she took a moment to regain herself, pressing her back against the wall of the building. "I. . . I'm gonna go home." She grumbled, bending down to pick up her clutch.

"Are you kidding, Y/n? You need to go to the hospital! That thing on your neck is disgusting!" Stephanie was shocked, she was clearly concerned about the wound, but Y/n didn't seem to care as much.

Lisa chimed in, "It could get infected if you don't get it treated, Y/n, you should have it checked out."

The corner of Y/n's mouth twitched upwards, a weak smile appearing. "Steph, Lis, I can take care of this, it's nothing," It was definitely not nothing. She could feel an ache all throughout her veins and her head felt like it was about to explode. Y/n didn't want them to worry, she knew them all too well and she knew that if the weirdo who bit her gave her some disease they wouldn't stop blaming themselves. "I'll go home, get some bandages and antibiotic ointment, then I'll be good as new. Don't worry."

The girls, very reluctantly, let her go — trusting her instead of arguing with their stubborn friend. "Do you want me to come with? I can help, it's kind of an awkward spot to be fixing up on your own." Stephanie offered.

Y/n shook her head and politely murmured, "No thanks, Steph." They respected her wishes and headed back inside while she caught a cab driving by.

It took only about fifteen minutes for the cab to get her home, opposed to the usual twenty — the driver had seen the dried blood that had stained her skin and decided that it would be best to get there as fast as he could. She thanked the man and paid her fare, plus a hefty tip, before stumbling into her home. It was around midnight when she decided to stop waiting on her fiancé, Tyler, to get home since he was working late, yet again. She dressed her wound in bandages and took some pain killers along with a shot of whiskey to dull the ache, then retired to bed.

The next morning, she felt nothing but the raging pain of her blood coursing through her veins like poison. She swallowed it down with a few shots of hard liquor and her daily medicine. The entire day she was on edge, always looking over her shoulder. She took the day off from work, but her husband hadn't; something about extra paperwork to file before dinner. His parents were coming over to celebrate their engagement over dinner, and although Y/n wasn't feeling good, she wasn't going to up and cancel.

Instead of making a meal, Y/n called a nearby Japanese catering company, ordering a few plates of assorted sushi rolls to be delivered by four o'clock. She didn't worry over the cost, but rather plopped down on the couch, trying to rest before she'd have to deal with her to-be in-laws.

She must've lost track of time because before she knew it, there was a knock at the door, and she was mindlessly getting up to open it. There stood an awkward-looking teen with a few insulated cases in hand. "Ms. L/n?" In response, she nodded and he gestured to a receipt sitting on top of the boxes. "Sign on the dotted line," The delivery boy pulled a blue pen out of his pocket and handed it to her, which she took with hesitation. She signed for the food and took the boxes. "Have a nice day!" He spoke quickly as she shut the door.

"Why can I still smell him? He smells like Frito's dipped in guac," Y/n grimaced, however, the stench made her hungry. "Whatever, I can dig in once they're here." She sighed.

Only moments passed before the door opened, revealing her soon-to-be husband, Tyler, and his parents. Tyler took it upon himself to set the table and help his parents settle in for their stay. Y/n stood in the bathroom, observing her neck and shoulder — whatever used to be there was now but a faint ring mark. Unfortunately, that didn't mean her pain stopped. Thankfully, she had a higher tolerance than most, and a bit of liquor helped.

They were part-way through dinner, and Y/n was picking at her second California roll. She could just barely stand the scents her nose was taking in — and the sushi wasn't the cause. She could separate the smells too; one of them smelt like rotting pears, another was a variation of sour wine, and the final one was by far the one that made her hunger plunge deeper — it was floral, and yet bitter. The sushi was no longer of any interest to Y/n; those smells, though, they were mouthwatering.

"Oh, dear, Y/n," Tyler's mother, Jill, started. "I just don't understand why you couldn't have made the food yourself; then again, you've always been quite a lazy lady." The last part was more of a reminder to herself but still, hurt Y/n nonetheless.

Y/n smiled, but everyone could tell it was fake, and there was nothing but pure rage behind it. "Oh, Jillian, you always critique my cooking skills anyways, so I thought why not save you the trouble and just get food elsewhere." Bitterness seeped from every word she spoke as she glared daggers at Tyler's monster of a mum.

"How thoughtful." The father, Wayne, added, shoving a spicy tuna roll down his gullet.

Jill obviously wasn't happy with the retort and turned to her beloved son. "I can't see why you didn't try to get with that Jessy girl at your office, she was an absolute sweetie; but I guess you like the sour bunch."

Wayne chuckled. "Yeah, if I were in your situation, I'd take the bait," He paused, taking a bite of another sushi roll before speaking up again. "Put in some extra hours, if you know what I mean." He spat, a piece of rice shooting out on his mouth and onto Y/n's nearby plate. Tyler let out a nervous laugh, looking towards his fianceé.

As she got angrier, the smells got more intense and the sound of rhythmic beating and rushing liquid filled her ears. She snapped her eyes shut so she could try to focus, but she just couldn't. Tyler attempted to bring her out of her pained expression with aggressive shoulder tapping, he was met with a push with massive force behind it. Said push sent him hurtling backward into a wall, causing his body to leave a hole in its place before he fell to the ground. Wayne stood up in shock, confused at what had just happened, and something had completely taken Y/n over.

No longer could she ignore her hunger, or the pent up fury within her. She leapt at Wayne, smacking his head against the wall harshly, before looking at Jill, who was going through her purse desperately looking for her Blackberry.

"No phones at the table, Jill." Y/n hissed before, kicking the leg of her chair, snapping the wooden block off, and making Jill fall to the floor.

To Jill, all hope was lost. Within seconds, Y/n fell to the floor and grabbed Jill's arm, biting it. The latter cried out, but Y/n quickly grabbed as much sushi as she could handle and shoved it into her mouth, muffling the screams.

Sharp and strong teeth replaced Y/n's former ones and she mercilessly sucked the blood from Jill's arm. Y/n's eyes had gone dark, and that was all Jill saw before she'd lost a large amount of blood and lost consciousness.

Y/n physically had to rip herself away from her would-be mother-in-law to prevent herself from draining the body completely. Once she had seen what was done, tears streamed down her face. Panic set in, and Y/n stood up and looked around at the mess she made.

Something felt off. Her hands wandered to her mouth, poking at her mouth to realize that her teeth felt much stronger than before and there was a thick layer of blood on her bottom lip. "Holy shit. . ." She gasped, scared of what idea came to mind. "Am I a fucking vampire?"

It sounded even more ridiculous out loud.

Her mind circled back to the blood dribbling down her chin and onto her blouse. What a shame. It was one of her favorites. How was she ever going to rid herself of this mess? This was her house, people in the neighborhood knew her, she would obviously be suspect number one and she had zero idea how to drop off the face of the earth.

Y/n's eyes shifted around the room, looking for some sort of sudden solution to her problems. Sushi, blood, candles, broken wood. . . Candles. . . Fire. She could burn the evidence. Her mind wandered back to the gas canister for her lawnmower; Tyler always kept it full so it would be there when he needed it. She rushed out to the garage, surprised at her speed, and retrieved the red can.

She poured gasoline on the floor, making sure the bodies were doused in the extremely flammable liquid. Let's be honest, if the bodies burnt enough, the police of this town probably wouldn't care enough to look too far into it — they'd most likely mark her off as deceased as well.

She had changed into a pair of thick spandex, a pair of comfortable sneakers, and a hoodie two sizes too large; and at the ripe, late time of '1:27 AM', Y/n snatched one of her lighters and her pack of cigarettes and went outside. She lit a cigarette and took a couple of moments to reminisce. She adored her house, but it could no longer be her home. She wouldn't be safe there, and she couldn't come back. She needed to be far, far away. She couldn't spend a second more there, so she took one last hit and flicked her lit cigarette through the door of the house and took off as flames spread through the house.

Hour, upon hour — they simply passed like minutes. It felt exhilarating to not be tired. She ran all night and the sun was starting to peek over the horizon, soft rays of light filtered through the crowds of trees. She was in a forest of some kind, and she had absolutely no idea where she was. After a couple of minutes of nothing but trees for miles, she stopped.

Somehow she felt absolutely no exhaustion from the obscene amount of physical work she'd just went through. She must've been at least a couple of states away, she should be safe.

tags :: @whattheheckisevengoingon​

[swifteforeverandalways]

Notes: I was honestly not planning on this being as long as it is, but somehow it ended up really long. The disease is real, but is rare. Any questions can be sent to my inbox!

@lilmissriottbliss

“Hey, where’s Raya? Isn't she meeting us up here?” Will asked Natalie as they packed up their stuff from the lockers.

“Yeah, she’s supposed to be. But she did seem pretty quiet this morning and told me she was worried about meeting Owen,” Natalie replied.

“Let’s head down to the lab,” Will suggested as he grabbed his coat. Natalie nodded and grabbed her’s, the two heading to the elevator. A few moments later, the two doctors were in the lab.

“Hey Nancy, is Saraya still here?” Natalie asked the lab desk woman, Nancy Gilman.

“She’s in the back, Dr. Manning. You can come back,” she replied.

“And let me guess, I’m still ‘banned’?” Will asked with a wry smile. Nancy laughed.

“I think for once, Saraya won’t enforce her ‘no boyfriend in lab’ rule,” the older lady said. Will laughed and him and Natalie headed into the lab. Nancy pointed to the lab locker/lounge area and the two headed in. They found Saraya pacing, looking stressed.

“Raya? Everything okay?” Will asked. Saraya’s head snapped up and she sighed, sitting on a bench and rubbing her face.

“Sorry, I just….I guess I’m just worried,” Saraya sighed. Will sat next to her, Natalie on her other side.

“Why?” Will asked.

“Meeting Owen, and Helen. I just….I Dunno,” Saraya sighed and shrugged. Natalie nudged her slightly.

“Owen will love you, I know he will,” Natalie assured her.

“I just…..both of you are doctors and what if he doesn’t understand what it is the lab does?” Saraya said.

“You can always bring stuff from here, at least something, right?” Will asked. Saraya frowned briefly before nodding and standing.

“I’ll be right back,” she said before heading out to the supply closest. Saraya returned a few minutes later with a box in hand.

“Pipettes?” Natalie asked, raising an eyebrow. Saraya nodded, “Yeah.”

“Is it okay to take them? I mean, don’t you like need them?” Natalie asked

“We got extra in with our last shipment. I know Nancy took some for her grandkids to play with, so I’m sure I’ll be fine to take them,” Saraya assured her. Natalie frowned still looking worried. Saraya sighed, though smiling, as she poked her head out.

“Hey Hanna, C’mere for a moment!” Saraya called to her boss. Hanna entered the locker room.

“What’s up?” She asked.

“Mind if I take this extra box of pipettes home?” Saraya asked.

“Today’s the day you’re meeting Dr. Manning’s son, isn’t it?” Hanna recalled. Saraya nodded.

“Go ahead, we have plenty,” Hanna said.

“Thank you,” Saraya said, putting the box under her arm before going to her locker, grabbing her coat.

“Let me,” Will reached for the box. Saraya rolled her eyes fondly but let Will take the box.

“Thanks,” she pecked his cheek. Will smiled and the three headed up and out to their car. A little while later, they arrived at Helen Manning’s house, still in their scrubs. Natalie walked up to the door and knocked on it. It was opened and an older woman stood there.

“Natalie, hi, it’s so good to see you again,” Helen said, pulling her daughter-in-law into a hug.

“Hey Helen. You remember Will?” Natalie said. Will waved awkwardly.

“Dr. Halstead,” Helen nodded. Will gently placed his hand on the small of Saraya’s back, leading her forward.

“This is Saraya Grant. She Uh….she lives with us,” Will said. Helen studied Saraya intensely and Saraya just kept eye contact with the older woman.

“Do you work at the hospital too?” She asked, noting the scrubs. Saraya nodded.

“I work at Chicago Med too, but in the lab,” she replied.

“What exactly does that involve?” Helen asked. Saraya internally rolled her eyes at the question she had received so many times before. Instead of seeming annoyed, she just gave the same answer as usual.

“I perform all the tests that need to be done. So when Nat or Will order like a CBC or CMP, the blood gets sent to the lab and we test it and report the results to our docs,” Saraya replied.

“We couldn’t do it without them,” Natalie replied with a smile. Helen nodded and looked at the box.

“What’s in there?” She asked.

“Pipettes. We use them in the lab. They’re all disposable and I thought that maybe Owen would like to play with some?” Saraya said, her voice turning unsure.

“Well Will and Natalie have bought him doctor’s kits…” Helen said.

“Can we please come in now, it’s a bit chilly out,” Natalie said.

“Oh yes. Of course,” Helen said and ushered the three in. Tiny footsteps approached and a child’s voice yelled out.

“Mommy!” A small boy ran to Natalie, who knelt down and pulled him into a hug.

“Hey sweetheart,” Natalie smiled, a look of pure adoration on her face that Saraya had never seen before.

“Hey Big Man,” Will knelt by Natalie.

“Mr. Will!” Owen released himself from Natalie and threw himself into Will’s arms. Will hugged the young boy tightly as Natalie stood, moving to stand next to Saraya.

“Hey Owen, Mr. Will and I wanted to introduce you to our really, really good friend. This is Saraya,” Natalie said. Saraya knelt down as Owen looked at her.

“You’re pretty,” he blurted out. Saraya smiled.

“Thanks Owen,” she replied. Owen smiled back shyly and pointed to the box.

“What’s that?” He asked curiously.

“These are pipettes, see I work with your mom and Mr. Will at the hospital, but I work in the laboratory to help them make people feel better by giving them facts that will help them find out what makes people sick. Pipettes help me in the lab and we had some extra so I was thinking you could have them,” Saraya explained carefully.

“Can I play with them?” Owen asked. Saraya smiled.

“Of course!” She exclaimed. Owen beamed and hugged her. Saraya laughed fondly and hugged back.

For the next hour or so, Saraya sat with Owen in the living room showing him how to use the pipettes while Will sat on the couch, watching. Natalie helped Helen with dinner in the kitchen, talking in low tones. As he sat, Will noticed Owen blinking a lot and rubbing his eyes. Frowning, the ginger haired doctor checked his phone. It was only six thirty and he knew Owen was always full of energy. He also noticed a light sheen of sweat on Owen’s.

“Hey Big Guy, you okay?” Will stood from the couch and crouched near Owen.

“My head kind of hurts and I’m really hot,” Owen said, his voice small.

“Can I check out your neck for a moment?” Will asked softly. Will nodded and felt Owen’s lymph nodes, frowning when he could feel they were swollen.

“Ow!” Owen cried. Panic began rising in both Will and Saraya but they clamped it down.

“Nat, can you come in here?” Saraya called. Natalie and Helen walked into the living room.

“What’s wrong?” Natalie asked. Will ran a hand through his hair.

“His head hurts, he’s feverish, his lymphs are swollen. We need to take him in,” he replied.

“What’s going on?” Helen demanded.

“We think Owen might be sick,” Will said as Saraya lifted Owen’s arm, noticing something on it.

“Is this a bite? When did it happen?” She asked.

“Owen’s class went to the zoo last week and he got bit by an insect, why?” Helen replied. Instead of answering, Saraya looked at Natalie and Will.

“I know it’s worse case scenario but all the symptoms fit, zoo could be the source of the tick….” She began.

“Do you really think it is?” Natalie interrupted. Saraya ran a hand through her hair, letting out a rough breath.

“I don’t know Nat. I know some local vets have reported it in animals, so it could be but it’s rare and, and we won’t know without a blood test,” Saraya replied.

“Then we need to take him in and get tested,” Will said.

“Will someone tell me what’s going on!” Helen demanded. The three medical professionals looked at her.

“Tularemia. It’s a very rare disease caused by the bacteria Francisella tularensis and it’s caused by insect bites amongst other things. You said he went to the zoo and got an insect bite, if it was a tick it could have transferred. The symptoms fit and it usually takes three to five days for them to show up. But we need to take him in to know for certain,” Saraya replied. Helen pressed a hand to her mouth.

“So we need to get Owen to the ED, now,” Will said, standing. Everyone grabbed their jackets and headed out.

“If it is tularemia, we likely caught it early and it’s easy to treat with antibiotics. There’s no evidence of it being transferred person-to-person so you guys are all safe,” Saraya said as she sat in the backseat with Will and Owen, Natalie was driving with Helen in the passenger seat.

“What about you?” Helen asked. Saraya exchanged glances with Will and Natalie (the latter through the rear view mirror).

“I think Nat and Will will both agree with me on this but even though I’m off shift, I want to be the one to culture his specimens and run the testing. To make sure that nothing is missed. Owen means a lot to both Natalie and Will, and I love them both,” Saraya replied. Will took her hand, squeezing it tightly as Helen nodded.

“Dad? I’m scared,” Owen said in a small voice. Will swallowed at being called ‘Dad’ by Owen again. Back when him and Natalie were first dating, Owen called him ‘daddy’ all the time. But then they broke up and he became ‘Mr. Will’.

“You’ll be okay, Owen. We will take care of you, I promise,” Will said in a thick voice. When they arrived at the Chicago Med Emergency Department, Natalie threw the car in park and jumped out, Will and Saraya doing the same. Natalie got Owen out while Will hopped into the driver’s seat, Saraya yanking open the passenger seat.

“C’mon, Will is gonna park. We are going to take Owen in,” she said to Helen. Helen nodded as Natalie held Owen in her arms, the three adults rushing in through the employee entrance.

“Maggie! Page Dr. Grant and tell her that I need her for Owen. I know she’s not an emergency physician but she’s the one I trust,” Natalie commanded. Maggie looked up.

“Oh my god Nat, what happened?” She demanded.

“Owen is sick, please. Page Dr. Grant,” Natalie pleaded. Maggie nodded and grabbed some admission papers and a clipboard, thrusting them into Helen’s hands.

“Take Treatment Two,” she said. Natalie nodded and rushed into the room, setting Owen on the bed as Monique rushed in. The young nurse instantly began hooking Owen up as Dr. Deidre Grant rushed in.

“Deidre, I know you don’t do emergency medicine but-” Natalie began only for Dr. Grant to shake her head.

“I know, Natalie. It’s okay,” she said.

“We think it’s Tularemia, Dee. He was at the zoo last week and got bit by an insect, has a fever and swollen lymph,” Saraya looked at her cousin. Dr. Grant nodded and looked at Monique.

“We need blood cultures and a lymph biopsy stat,” she said. Monique nodded and went about collecting the samples as Helen filled out the admission paperwork, Natalie took a seat next to the bed, Will rushed in, and Saraya paced.

“I’ll take the samples to the lab and run them myself,” Saraya said. Monique looked up.

“The elevators are down, being worked on,�� she said unsure.

“Then I’ll run them down myself dammit!” Saraya snapped.

“Monique, just let her take the samples down,” Dr. Grant said. Monique looked at the doctor and nodded as Natalie nudged Saraya.

“Raya, please don’t actually run,” she said. Saraya smiled wryly.

“I wasn’t planning on it, Nat,” she replied, “Or at least not my full-speed ‘hospital was hacked so I need to deliver this critical results by hand’ level.”

“I almost called your mother for that by the way,” Dr. Grant said.

“Oh I was expecting you to, Dee. I was 100% expecting to get a call from my mom.” Saraya laughed. A few minutes later, Monique had collected the samples and Saraya headed down to the lab. The night desk woman, Elenie Basen, looked up.

“Ms. Grant, I thought you went home?” She said. Saraya nodded.

“I did but uh…..is Hanna still in?” Saraya asked. Elenie nodded and motioned Saraya back. Saraya rushed back and popped her head into Hanna’s office.

“Hanna, I know I’m not on shift or even on call but Natalie’s son got sick and I think it might be tularemia and I want to run the samples and….” Saraya began rambling when Hanna held up a hand to cut her off.

“Go, but take all precautions,” Hanna replied. Saraya nodded and hurried off. Taking all the precautions, Saraya set upon performing the cultures and tests. It was nearly midnight when the tests and culture were finished and Saraya taped the plates, setting them into the incubator while setting the PCR and MALDI-TOF tests to run.

“Hey Lou, let me know when they’re done?” Saraya said, nodding to the tests running. Her coworker Lou nodded and Saraya checked her phone, seeing a text from Will saying that Owen was being held in the pediatric wing under observation. Stifling her yawn, Saraya headed out of the lab and to the pediatric wing.

Owen was asleep in the bed, Natalie sitting in a chair next to the bed with Helen on the other side. Will sat on the couch in the room, head resting on his hand. Helen and Natalie looked up when Saraya slipped in.

“Preliminary results will be in in a few hours,” Saraya said, yawning. “Culture takes a few days but PCR and MALDI-TOF will be done in a few hours.” Natalie nodded.

“Get some rest, Raya,” she said softly. Saraya stifled another yawn, “Plannin’ on it. If my phone goes off please wake me, though.” Natalie nodded again as Saraya set her phone on a table before making her way to the couch. Will stirred briefly, opening up his arms. Saraya settled onto the couch, cuddling into his side. Will kissed her forehead as Saraya drifted off.

[enchantedlokii]

Healing Takes Time

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: language

Chatacters: Tony Stark, Peter Parker

Mentioned: May Parker

@whumptober2020 Day Twenty-One: Infection

Sequel to Lost!

Tony woke up to the sound of whimpering and was confused at first, unsure of the noise. Then, as he became more alert, he remembered what had happened. Seven days ago, Peter has gone missing on his school trip. He had found him two days ago, and the boy had been taken into surgery immediately for compartment syndrome and severe osteomyelitis. While the former was fixed and his body was healing, the infection would take time to run its course and he was still at high risk for sepsis until the antibiotics they were giving him started to work.

Peter whimpered again in his sleep and Tony stood up, walking over to his bedside. May had left to return to New York the night before, her work not allowing her anymore days off, so he had promised to stay behind in Tennessee and watch over him until he was well enough to transfer. He knew that the boy would be better off at home with doctors who knew him, but they didn’t have much of a choice right now. With May’s permission, he had to make the decision to reveal his identity to the hospital so he would get proper treatment. He had made them sign off on it, of course, but they could never be sure that the law would be upheld.

“It’s okay, Kiddo,” he whispered, taking the boy’s hand and squeezing it. “You’re okay.”

He could feel the heat coming from Peter and knew he must be running a fever again. That was likely the cause of his discomfort, Tony guessed. The medicine he was on had helped keep it down for the most part, but it was early in the morning, and his last dose would be wearing off now.

Peter blinked up at him, his eyes only half-opened. “Hey, Buddy,” he said softly. “You’re running a fever again.”

“Ma’es sense,” Peter mumbled, struggling to try to push himself into a sitting position. He got halfway up before closing his eyes and flopping back down again with a huff that sounded like a mix of exhaustion and annoyance. “Don’ feel good, T’ny.”

“I know, Pete,” he said softly, squeezing his hand again. He looked up as he heard footsteps, relieved to see the nurse coming in. “He’s running a fever again.”

“This should help bring it down,” the nurse replied, walking over to the IV pole and changing the bag out and turning the drip up a bit. Once she was finished, she moved closer to Peter’s bed. “Peter?”

“Mhm?” Peter hummed, tilting his head to look up at her. “Yeah?”

“Do you want me to bring you a water and see if you can drink any?” she asked carefully. “You have plenty of fluids coming in right now, but it’s good to drink a little if you can.”

“Too ti’ed. Wanna sleep,” Peter mumbled.

“Okay,” she replied softly, glancing at Tony. “I’ll come check on him in an hour or so and see if his fever has gone down any. If he’s awake I’ll ask him again. If you need me, just press the call button.”

“I will, thank you.”

When Peter woke up again, his body was soaked with sweat. As gross as he felt, he knew that meant his fever had broke. He was a bit surprised that his head didn’t feel quite as fuzzy as before, but he noticed he could feel a slight pain in his leg. He guessed they had started to lower his pain medicine.

For a moment, Peter thought that he was alone. He was on his side, turned towards the side of his bed where May had been staying when she was there. He felt a hint of panic at the thought, trying to listen for a second heartbeat in the room but unable to get his senses to focus enough to do so. “Tony?” he called weakly, his voice shaking.

“I’m right here, Buddy.” Peter relaxed a bit at the voice. He heard footsteps and tilted his head as Tony came around to the other side of his bed. “Are you alright? Do I need to get the nurse?”

“Jus’ thought I was alone,” he admitted, giving him a weak smile. “I’m a’ight.”

Tony gave him a small smile and nodded, sitting down in the chair that was still pulled up to the side of his bed. “You look more awake,” he commented.

“Head’s not as fuzzy,” Peter told him. “‘S been fuzzy lately. You druggin’ me?” He gave a look that he hoped conveyed his joke, and he replaced it with a lopsided smile when Tony chuckled at him.

“Maybe I have,” he replied lightly. “Maybe you’re just going insane. Either sounds like a fair assumption in my opinion.”

“‘M not insane,” Peter mumbled, lowering his head to his pillow. “That’s you.”

“Hey now,” the man started, crossing his arms over his chest in mock offense. “I’m going to leave you here if you keep that up.”

“No you’re not,” Peter countered, closing his eyes for a moment. “May said. . . She said somethin’. I don’t remember what she said but you wouldn’ leave.”

“I’m just messing with you, Kiddo,” Tony assured him. Peter felt a hand in his hair and leaned into the touch. “May wanted me to tell you she only left because her boss is an *sshole, by the way. She told you herself before she left, but wasn’t sure if you would remember.”

“‘S okay,” Peter told him, looking up at him. “You can go too if you needa.”

“Wouldn’t even think about it, Pete. I’m going to stay as long as you’re here.”

Peter just smiled in reply. “I’mma sleep now.”

“Alright, Buddy,” Tony replied, taking his hand and squeezing it once. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“You’re okay, you’re okay. I’ve got ya.”

Peter tilted his head back, taking shaky breaths. He was gripping onto Tony tightly, leaning most of his weight on him. “I think I’m gonna pass out,” he breathed.

“Alright. You want to sit in the chair?”

Peter nodded and let Tony lead him to the seat, carefully lowering him into it. He closed his eyes in an attempt to calm himself, breathing heavy. His leg was hurting terribly even after just standing for a minute, and he had felt sick the moment he tried to move.

“Your blood pressure tanked, Buddy,” Tony told him, sitting on the edge of the bed. “We’ll get you back in the bed once it levels out and try again tomorrow.”

Peter sighed and nodded, feeling tears in his eyes as he opened them again. He had been in the hospital for over a week now and he was ready to go home, but the doctors said that he couldn’t be transferred until he was able to make it to the bathroom and back with help. Then, even when he got back to New York, he would be stuck in the medbay at Avengers Tower until he was completely healed. This was not how he planned on spending his summer.

“Hey,” Tony started softly, standing up and coming to crouch next to Peter. He took his hand and held it in his own. “You’re doing great, Pete. You’ve come so far.”

“I’m just so tired,” Peter whispered, trying to keep his voice from breaking. “I’m tired and I miss May and I just want to go home.”

“I know, Kiddo,” Tony sighed. “I wish I could take you home, I really do, but we need to make sure you’re strong enough for the trip.”

“I know,” Peter breathed. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, Bud,” he replied. “You’re doing so good. You’ve been so brave through this, and I’m so proud of you for that, okay? Just stay strong for me a little longer.”

Peter nodded, unable to reply because of the knot in his throat. He felt a hand on either side of his face and then a kiss on the top of his head. “I’m not sure I told you this, but I’m so glad you’re okay,” Tony murmured.

“Yeah?” Peter asked.

“Yeah,” he replied. “It’s going to take time to heal, but what matters is that you’re here and you are healing. I know it sucks, and I’m so sorry that you’re hurting, but in the end it’s all going to be okay.”

Peter sighed and nodded, pushing himself to the edge of the chair and leaning forward. He was glad when he felt arms pulling him close, then heard the familiar beating sound in front of him. “Thanks, Tony.”

“Of course, Pete,” Tony replied, ruffling his hair a bit. “Anytime.”

[maddie-grove]

Little Book Review: Two Rogues Make a Right

Author: Cat Sebastian.

Publication Date: 2020.

Genre: Historical romance (Regency).

Premise: William Sedgwick and Sir Martin Easterbrook have been best friends since childhood, despite the tensions between William’s poor, unconventional family and Martin’s publicly upright but privately dissolute father. Then Martin completely disappeared on William, showing up months later nearly dead from tuberculosis. Now William has taken Martin to a small cottage in the countryside, hoping to nurse him back to...well, not to health, because he has TB and there are no antibiotics yet, but to a state of dying less rapidly. Although Martin gets better, they’re still in a complicated situation, thanks to their recent estrangement, the long history of fucked-up shit between their families, and a whole bunch of mutual pining. And money. And TB. They have a lot to deal with.

Thoughts: Every so often, there’s a debate over whether a romance novel needs to have a Happily Ever After (or HEA for short) to be a romance novel. My position is a hearty “yes, almost always.” I’m not against love stories that end in death or a break-up, but if I read one, my reaction is going to be, “That’s not a romance novel--that’s chick lit/women’s fiction/YA/historical fiction/literary fiction.” (I get that “chick lit” is a less-than-ideal term for “light-hearted fiction about modern life with a breezy tone that’s usually about women,” but I also think that maybe 60% of people who want romance without HEAs don’t realize that chick lit exists. Also, tangentially related hot take: Nick Hornby and Tom Perrotta are both primarily chick lit authors.) 

I do have an important caveat, though: an HEA doesn’t have to establish that the protagonists will Never Have Problems Again. Setting a romance novel in troubled times, or acknowledging that the protagonists may continue to struggle with addiction or mental illness even after finding love, or (more to the point) writing about protagonists with chronic illnesses that give them a low life expectancy is much more groundbreaking and valuable than trying to push for more La La Land and The Way We Were endings. That’s what I value most about Two Rogues Make a Right, particularly as a chronically ill person. William and Martin’s HEA isn’t diminished by the uncertainty of how long Martin will live. Neither is it presented as a tragedy for William that he’s fallen in love with a dying man. He’ll be sad when Martin dies, of course, but it won’t destroy him, and he’s infinitely happier than if he’d never gotten involved with Martin. 

The novel’s other charms are more modest, albeit genuine. This is a slow-burn friends-to-lovers story with protagonists who handle conflict in a fairly low-key way. They mainly have to figure out ordinary relationship stuff (where will they live? How do their careers fit into the picture?), and they do so with a minimum of sacrificial gestures and sulking. (There’s still a little of that--it is a romance novel.) Their relationship is sweet and down-to-earth. Plus, if you love scenes where the protagonists fix up a cottage together, you are in luck.

Oh, and two rogues? There is three-quarters of a rogue between the two of them, max. 

Hot Goodreads Take: “I felt like this book was set in the present and then all of the plot points were changed to the 1800's,” complains one reviewer. They’re referring to what they see as an overly accepting attitude towards gay people among the minor characters. Which, look, Sebastian is definitely writing from a modern perspective, but I’d bet a lot that the reviewer’s idea of historical accuracy is 1950s-1980s homophobia in an Oscar Wilde costume. Also, if I read a modern-day romance where a guy scooped up his dangerously ill BFF and took him to the country to nurse him back to health, I’d be like, “dude, take your boy to a hospital.” It doesn’t translate well to contemporary romance, is what I’m saying. 

[youarejesting]

Quarantine.32

[Masterlist] Editor: [Yoongisauce] Pairing: BTS x reader Friends2Lovers Genres: friendship, drama, romance SLOWEST OF BURNS. until the anticipation kills us all… Rating: PG-13 and above Summary: Your brother works with a few BigHit dance teams and whilst having permission to accompany him at work the city shuts down banning anyone from stepping outside for a whole WEEK while they disinfect the streets. If you step outside you might get arrested, shot or poisoned by the chemicals they are emitting through the city. Words: 1.9k Announcement: This is the closing chapter of ARC 1 ‘Fog’ So of course it had to be a big one.

[Part 1]  [Part 31] [Part 33] [Tag Yourself Here]

Seokjin sat beside your bed drifting in and out of consciousness, watching the rise and fall of your chest. At first, it was hard to look at you, your features strained and obviously in pain, but as the night rolled over to the day you seemed almost peaceful. Cheeks warming into a soft peach hue. There was life in you yet.

He watched a sleek ginger cat walk through the open clinic door and jump onto the end of the bed. Its tiny bell tinkled. Seokjin sat up, ready to move the feline before it had a chance to hurt you.

“Leave the cat, just watch.” The soldier in the neighboring bed smiled at Seokjin. The cat gently walked up the bed and nestled by your injured thigh and started purring. “Cat’s purrs are said to help the healing process.”

“Mister Kim, I think you should get in contact with your friends before they worry themselves further,” Doctor Chang called from the door. He had showered, combed his hair and even shaved his shadow of a beard. He looked more respectable in fresh clean clothes and his white uniform coat. 

Seokjin realized the tight feeling he had in his chest. It all made sense; he missed the boys deeply and wished to just embrace them and recharge mentally.

“Thank you for last night. Here is your jacket,” The doctor smiled handing over the folded outerwear. Seokjin tried not to grow bashful at the appreciative words, and picked up the walkie talkie ready to contact his friends. His phone now had service above ground but had run out of battery.

With a small breath, he spoke clearly into the walkie, “This is Kim Seokjin, uh… I am uh trying to get in contact with BigHit”

“Kim Seokjin!” a voice called and he knew that tone, it was a fan. It only took a few minutes for the radio to sound off a mess of voices calling for him and announcing their love for him. The military, who were now in the area dealing with the gangs, began scolding these fans for misusing the emergency radios.

“This is Kim Namjoon, calling for Kim Seokjin, are you okay? Where are you?”

“Namjoon, I made it. I am safe. We are fine.”

“Mister Kim, we have been made aware of your situation with our more secure radio channel. We will send some men out to collect you and take you back to your company when the area is secured.”

“Ah, thank you,” he smiled, turning to see the soldier in his bed with radio in hand. 

“Hyung, let’s not use the radio’s cause we are now trending on twitter.” 

“Okay, my phone is out of battery but I’ll try to find some way to charge it.”

Feeling like perhaps things were looking up, Seokjin headed back to your bedside, seeing you stir momentarily. You were mumbling about shooting someone and he knew the memories must have been haunting you.

Taking your hand in his, he wondered when he would see your sparkling eyes open once more and gaze upon him.

~

All the boys had been present for Seokjin’s news and they were cheering and hugging each other. They had deciphered the message earlier when the oldest stressed the word other. They hoped that the message they received that night had indeed just been distorted and that you hadn’t actually been injured.

“Hyung they are safe!” Jimin grinned as he and Taehyung jumped circles around Namjoon, “Jin-Hyung said they are okay.”

Namjoon received a message calling him to speak with a few of the higher-ups. Looking at the boys in the midst of celebration, he quickly excused himself, catching Jungkook’s eye on the way out.

What did they want to see him about? He knew they were already in trouble for speaking over the radio. The fans and social media were going wild with theories of what was happening and he was too scared to even peak at the damage.

The elevator ride was, as always, slow and kind of stuffy but once he reached the third floor from the top, he sighed. The air was so cool and clean. Pulling his sleeves down and smoothing his unruly hair he approached the reception.

“Ah Kim Namjoon-ssi, please follow me to the meeting room.” He followed a thin young man in a suit to an elaborate meeting room designed for at least thirty board members to be present. But today? There was a single chair at the side of the long table.

The young man turned on the thin laptop, set up the headset, and selected CEO Bang Si-Hyuk icon on the screen. Namjoon smiled politely, trying not to appear guilty in front of the CEO. 

“Good day. I heard you have made quite a commotion late this morning. There are magazines and social media outlets asking ‘Where is Jin?’ and they want a statement as to why he is outside of the company building, who he is with and why he needs a military escort. What are you expecting me to tell the press?”

“Well– we can state that Jungkook dislocated his shoulder and the two went to the clinic together. And now he needs an escort back as we were informed there are some violent groups in the area that have been causing trouble.”

“As long as you know that this is a warning– if you do something like this again and put your images in jeopardy it will be a breach of contract. I don’t want to have to penalize anyone and I definitely don’t want to remove anyone from the band.”

“Yes sir, understood,” Namjoon sighed brushing his palms down his face.

“I would like regular updates on this female that seems to be causing trouble within the group. None of this was happening before you met her and I hope you aren’t thinking of breaking our dating policy. We have allowed you to have one night stands but we don’t want to cause any more scandals.” Bang Si-Hyuk looked comfortable in his home, but the dull light in his eyes showed he was put out by the latest internet exposure. “I will send out the statement. You boys know I don’t want to be the bad guy. I am trying to do what is best for you.”

“We understand sir, I will speak to the others and remind them of our obligations”

“Good man, keep me in the loop and I will speak to you soon.”

~ 

Seokjin woke up with a start. There was a commotion in the clinic; he could see people that were badly injured. He walked around to see if anyone needed help. People were on the floor, all pink and blistered, gasping for breath. “Doctor Chang! What happened?”

“The building had a leak– they all have serious chemical burns and poisoning from the gas.” Doctor Chang sighed, “There are too many of them; the hospital is filled and they have already sent some to nearby health centers but there aren’t enough beds. Can you pass me the saline bags behind you?” 

Seokjin handed them over, becoming more concerned. “We have to find these patients beds,” The doctor said, stacking more items onto a trolley.

“They can have mine. Doc, is there anything I can do?” A lethargic voice spoke softly. Seokjin turned so fast he felt his neck pop loudly. “My bed is free.”

“No! You were shot,” Seokjin said and you sighed, “I slept for a long time. I am fine, let me give my bed up. I am recovering and they are suffering, let me give them some comfort.”

The place was packed wall to wall and after some grueling work and care to the injured, everyone seemed to be taken care of. Multiple soldiers arrived announcing that they would be escorting Seokjin back to the company. He looked surprised to see you dressed in a suit as well.

“Why are you dressed?”

“I am coming back with you. I want to be comfortable somewhere quiet and dark. There are no more beds– I would just get in the way if I stay any longer. I will be on bed rest at the company, so it will be fine.” 

Seokjin saw the desperation in your eyes at the idea of leaving the clinic and nodded softly. “I have antibiotics and painkillers and I can come back when I need the drain removed. The government says they are going to stop the fog so it won’t be as dangerous to walk to the clinic and back.”

Reluctantly agreeing, the two of you made the final trek to the company. Seokjin held your hand the whole way. He could see you getting tired from walking, trying to mask the pain in your thigh. He lifted you up onto his back, letting you rest your head in the crook of his shoulder.He heard your breathing even out and knew you had fallen asleep,  your exhausted body still recovering. 

You arrived at the Big Hit building and he set you down on the pavement, smiling at you as you yawned behind your visor. The fog was getting lighter as the day dragged on.

The building had just opened the doors, when Seokjin saw something pass the corner of his eye in the fading fog. He saw Thomas and the boys waiting in the lobby waving at you both, Taehyung and Hoseok with happy tears in their eyes. “Come on let’s go inside.”

Seokjin looked down at you. The smile on your face from seeing everyone again had him feeling warm and fuzzy; he wanted to hold you and kiss you in ways friends did not. He wanted to show you how much you meant to him and he knew his band members wanted the same.

Placing his hand delicately to the curve of your waist, he moved to your side, “You are so beautiful.” 

You blushed, cheeks reddening as you looked up at him. Everything seemed so surreal at that moment; the glow of your cheeks seemed to light up your face inside the visor, eyes sparkling brightly. That is until– the visor splattered red.

It all happened so fast– there was a noise that echoed in his ear, loudly ringing out through the street. He watched your body fall like a rag doll. Loud popping sounds continued going off around him.

Jin rolled you onto your back and saw a bloodied hole in the side of your headpiece. Blood pooled out from your head. Your body was lifeless, eyes no longer contained their sparkle. 

Everything happened so unexpectedly, he turned away from your dead body and proceeded to vomit onto the sidewalk. What happened to the smiling girl from just a few minutes ago. Where did he go wrong? 

Seokjin could register several voices screaming hysterically; Captain Won-Shik pulled Seokjin away from your corpse, dragging him safely inside. The captain shouted about tracking down every single gang member before running back onto the street to continue the search for any hidden gunmen.

Seokjin looked across the room at Taehyung who was crying so hard it didn’t sound human. That’s when he heard a very distinct meow and something soft brush his cheek.

Eyes shooting open, Seokjin was face to face with the ginger cat who meowed once more, rubbing its soft cheeks against his. He felt how wet his cheeks were and knew he had been crying.

[Part 1]  [Part 31] [Part 33] [Tag Yourself Here]

Please tell me if the tags work or not, I am still working with them.

Tags:@theneverdays @hi-itstt​ @bubbletae7​ @lovemusicandotps​ @taetaebq​ @seveniefive​ @w0lfqu33n​ @anaiss97​ @moccahobi​ @maddymal​ @lilacdreams-00​ @lethargicalyssa​ @knjkitten​ @pieislife​ @bunnyboyenthusiast​  @vividwoosan​ @seesawsmin-flower​ @tinyunknownflower​ @gguksfilter​ @fawnzilla​ @passionate-love-57911​ @btrombley13​

[lokissweater]

Little Darling

Soldier!Harry Styles x Reader

Summary: Harry falls in love with the pretty nurse that takes care of him during the war.

Warnings: none my bbys :*

Authors Note: oh my god, the response i got from flower boy was insaaane y’all made me cry happy tears for dAYS LMFAO, but honestly thank you so muchhh, and im so sorry i’m been mf gONE i’ve had this and three more drafts in the works and i never got around to finishing them heheh, anyways enjoy!! and if you’ve sent me a request don’t worry i’m also working on that rn and thanks for sending it in! love u! <3

Word Count: 1,998

You had never met anyone like Harry.

“Patient 113! Patient 113!”

Nurses scurried around the small hospital, hundreds of men injured as you hurried your way to the front desk.

“I’ll take him,” You said quickly. “Bring the other ones in.”

You carefully sat him down and wheeled him across the hectic large room and to an open spot.

The side of his face was bloody, and he remained unconscious as doctors lifted his limp body onto the bed. You quickly grabbed gauzes and disinfectants, ridding of the dirt, sweat, and dried up blood off of his face.

“Patients name?” The doctor asked.

You pulled the dog tag from under his uniform and said, “Harry Styles.”

The doctor pressed a stethoscope to his heart and listened, “We have a pulse.”

He then wiped his forehead in exhaustion. “From the looks of it, he took a blow to the head and fell unconscious, but he’ll be fine.” He then hung the tool around his neck. “He’s all yours now y/n, just clean him up and call me when he wakes.”

“Yes sir.”

Then, you hadn’t thought anything of him. Just another patient you anxiously wanted to save because unfortunately the one before, couldn’t be.

But when Harry awoke, his dazed eyes drifted around the room, and once he regained his senses and actually looked at you, he didn’t hesitate to say that you were the most beautiful little thing he had ever seen.

This, of course, made you roll your eyes and blame it on the antibiotics, but he stood by his word and would even go as far as to request for you if a different nurse came to tend to him.

You had grown to love his unruly hair and sense of humor, but most of all, were his eyes. They reminded you of the trees your grandmother used to grow around her small cabin in the middle of no where, and from time to time would pick a sparkling emerald leaf to place gently in your small palm for good luck.

Now every leaf she had ever given you was stowed away in an old jewelry box inside your attic, brittle and brown. But each time you looked into Harry’s eyes, it was as if your childhood never left, as if the leaves never dried out, and as if your grandmother never died.

You spent a great deal of time taking care of him, and as soon as he recovered he took you out on a date by the river; picking small daisies to card gently behind your ear. It was sweet, his cute dimples evident as he smiled at you. The air was fresh and calm, and the sight of Harry on the grass, palms spread behind him with his head tilted back, sun adorning his features, was a sight hard to forget.

He’d always call you his little darling and made sure you were absolutely happy at all times. You were his sunshine, and it wasn’t hard for him to fall in love with you.

All of this was short lived though when you received devastating news. Harry was to be drafted again, and the area was no where near where you were at the moment, meaning if Harry got hurt you wouldn’t be able to treat him.

And if he died, you wouldn’t know until weeks after.

When he told you, you cried your eyes out while he got down on his knees, hands placed firmly on your arms.

“Little darling, hey, don’t you cry,” He wiped the tears off of your puffy cheeks with one hand and sighed. “I’ll come back to you, I promise you baby, don’t you cry.”

“Harry you could die!-”

“I won’t.” He said firmly. “You really think i’d leave you that easily sunshine? You’re gonna have to chase me to the ends of the earth to even give you a minute by yourself.”

That had made you laugh, and he wrapped his arms around you as he stood back up. “I’ll come back. I’ll write to you everyday a-and send you the very first flower I see. I’ll be back before you know it.”

You only nodded into his chest, a soft smile on your face, “I love you.”

Harry tightened his hold around you and rested his chin on top of your head.

“Tell me again,” He whispered. “I want to hear it one more time before I go.”

Harry kept his word and wrote to you as often as he could, but you still spent each and every day worrying for him and his safety. You had taken note of the increasing amount of men that came piling into the small hospital you worked at, and the injuries only seemed to worsen. You’d ask Harry what was going on in your letters, but he’d write back saying that everything was fine, and ultimately change the subject.

“Our men are dying,” One of the nurses had said to you as she patched up an unconscious soldier, “Many won’t come home.”

That made you sick to your stomach, and it didn’t help when after two years since Harry’s departure, his letters abruptly stopped coming soon after. The last one he had sent was dated a month ago, and it read:

Dear y/n,

How are you my little darling? Are you happy and well? I hope you are. I miss your pretty face.

Something tragic happened. My best mate died on field yesterday, and I have never felt such remorse in my entire life. It’s getting harder to stay alive my love, and when I saw his still body in the dirt, all I saw was red.

But I’m still alive. When I woke up this morning I saw a single daisy in the midst of gravel and mud, and it reminded me of you. You’re surrounded by horrible people and an awful environment but you remain brilliant. I’ve never met anyone like you.

If I don’t make it, just know how much I truly, deeply love you, and you’ve made me the happiest man alive. My days with you are memories I’ll never forget.

See you soon baby.

- HS

Below was a small daisy taped carefully onto the bottom of the page, and you cried looking at it once more before folding the letter back up and stuffing it in the pocket of your uniform.

“Any news?” One of the nurses said. Another sighed and shook her head.

“All radios are down. No one knows a thing.”

“Its been almost a full day,” You mumbled. “I think we’ve lost the war.”

A gloom of realization spread across the room, nurses and doctors with a defeated expression. It was silent, and everyone seemed to zone out until one of your close friends sat herself down on a chair next to you.

“Has he written?” She whispered.

“No. I’m starting to think-”

“Don’t say it,” She scooted closer to you. “He’s okay and you know it. You’re his sunshine, remember?”

You smiled sadly, “I do, but he hasn’t written in a month.”

“Maybe he can’t find paper,” She shrugged. “Or a pen.”

“Maybe he’s-”

“We won! We won the war!”

Everyone abruptly stood, chairs screeching against the tile floor. You quickly ran down the hall along with other nurses and into a different room. Others were already hunched over a small table that held a working radio.

“Our men are coming home!”

Cheers and cries filled the air, and you stood frozen as many wrapped their arms around you in joy.

Word was that the veterans were to return in a train arriving in about an hour, and you wasted no time in slipping on your jacket and running with many others to the station. You couldn’t even be bothered to remove your uniform, the love of your life was finally coming home.

Upon arrival, people were buzzing with anticipation and happiness. Personal space didn’t seem to be a thing as everyone waited for the train to pull in, and once it did, the shouting commenced.

Man after man came hopping out of the train, beaten up expressions but nonetheless with a smile on their faces, yet none of them were Harry. You stood on your tippy toes to get a better look, but you were still overrun by the people in front of you.

You couldn’t help but smile as you saw a woman with two kids clutching onto a soldier next to you, their children’s small arms wrapped around their father’s legs. You thanked your lucky stars that at least they got their happy ending, and pushed yourself through the crowd to get to the front.

It became apparent after a little while though, that you may not have gotten your happy ending. As the area dispersed and became empty, your vision blurred with tears. You couldn’t believe it, you didn’t want to believe it.

He said he’d come back, you thought.

A gust of wind blew through your hair, and you wrapped your arms tightly around yourself for comfort and for warmth. You screwed your eyes shut and tilted your head back, tear drops slipping into your hair. In the midst of feeling the warm sun caress your face, you imagined Harry calling out to you in the distance, calling you his little darling again just like he’d done many times before.

Except you hadn’t.

When you opened your eyes, a tall figure stood a couple feet away from you, and you rid your eyes from the remaining tears to see who it was.

“H-Harry?”

He smiled warmly at you, tears pricking the corner of his eyes.

When he got off the train, the sight of you standing there, wind whirling through your hair with your head tilted back; sun adorning your features and a pained expression, was a sight hard to forget.

But as he looked at you now, doe eyes wide that gleamed of hope and disbelief, the days out on field and the awful deserts meant nothing to him. The days of treterous fear, the cold nights where he felt nothing but alone, meant absolutely nothing to him.

But you, you meant everything to him.

“Hey little darling.” He said gently, fingers reaching out to touch yours. The warmth that radiated from your hand brought him back to reality and reassured him that he wasn’t dreaming.

At his words, you breathed out a laugh and threw your arms around his neck, and Harry in response scooped you up off the ground, taking note of the familiar strawberry scented shampoo you always used.

“I thought you died,” you whispered in his ear.

“Can’t get rid of me that easily baby cakes.” He said playfully, kissing your cold cheek.

You laughed and pulled your head back to look at him. He looked as handsome as you remembered, but he looked so worn out. The bags under his eyes and slow blinking clearly indicated that he was exhausted, and you smiled warmly, softly kissing his cheek.

“Let’s go home.”

Home.

What he’d been waiting for. The place he wanted to share with you, the place where he wanted to wake up and one day find the smell of pancakes and honey smothering your shared bedroom, and maybe, just maybe, with two little hands grabbing at his face to get him to wake up.

He nodded at you then, fingers laced with yours as you walked along the train station. The setting sunlight highlighted Harry’s green eyes; and they were soft, looking out into the streets ahead of you that held nothing but love yet still vigilant, and you were reminded of your grandmother once more.

“Harry?” you called suddenly.

“Yes, little darling?”

“How come you didn’t write to me these last few months?”

He smiled at you lazily and gently brushed your hair over your shoulder, running a soothing hand over your lower back.

“Couldn’t find paper, my love.” He hummed, “Or a damn pen.”