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silver-rings-and-rabbits · 8 months ago

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Open Heart - Chapter 5

Relief

Later that night, Matthew and co sat at a Donahue’s table, eagerly discussing the announcement, speculating on the glamorous life of the diagnostics team and why they might have decided to train someone from the beginning. Bryce had even bought them a congratulatory tray of shots, though Matthew strongly suspected he was sucking up on the possibility that he would have an in on the diagnostics team. It would get him the best surgeries.

“You all know Chief Emery will want Ramsey to pick her precious Aurora,” Jackie pointed out (ever the optimist) as they clinked their drinks together.

Landry frowned. “But we still have a chance, right?”

“I think she’s not as bad people say,” Matthew said. “She just seems to be under a lot of pressure.”

“And? We all are,” Jackie growled. Matthew held up his hands in surrender.

“I just mean that I don’t think any of you have to worry about her.”

“’You’? Hang on…” Elijah gasped. “Are you not going to compete for the fellowship?”

“Wait, what?!”

His friends broke into surprised questions and outraged comments. Matthew let the shock wear off, spinning an empty shot glass between his fingers.

“The only reason I survived our first week was because of you guys. And I don’t want anything to jeopardise our friendship.”

“Actually, you’ve got a point,” Elijah agreed. “At my med school, the competitiveness was so heated, no one was really friends with anyone.”

Matthew nodded as Sienna gave him a squeeze, but Jackie still thought he was being a dumbass and missing out on a chance to jumpstart his career. Still, Matthew hadn’t considered a career without the diagnostics team until last night. His talk with Ramsey had given him a lot to consider.

“Interns! Hello!” Ines and Zaid had come over. Or rather, Ines had come over and Zaid had reluctantly followed.

“Hey Ines!” Elijah said cheerfully, raising his glass.

“I saw some of you have signed up for the competition already. I’m proud of you!”

“And I just want you all to know,” Zaid said, with an uncharacteristic smile, “that whichever one of you wins…you won’t deserve it,” he finished with a snarl that looked much more normal on his face.

The next morning, Matthew woke up feeling surprisingly well-rested until he focused on his bedside clock: it was 10AM. He had massively overslept.

“Crap!!”

He jumped up, scrambling for the closest piece of clothing, which was his jeans, only to put his foot through the wrong hole and tumble to the floor.

“Matthew, was that you? You OK?”

Sienna poked her head round the door and giggled at the sight of Matthew in a tangle of clothes.

“Why are you in such a rush, silly? You do remember it’s our day off?”

The relief crashed down so hard that Matthew couldn’t even be embarrassed.

“Wow, you’re right…I’d almost forgotten what a day off felt like!”

“Elijah has tickets for a baseball game and we’re all invited if you want to come with.”

“Absolutely! Er…” Matthew was about to get up when he realised he was in his underpants, wearing jeans on the wrong leg. “May I have some privacy first, please?” he asked, smiling sweetly. Sienna backed out the room, still giggling.

Once Matthew was properly dressed with everything on the right body parts and had eaten some cereal, the gang made their way to Fenway Stadium. Crowds of people were already filing through and the air buzzed with excitement. The Nighthawks were up against their arch-rivals, the Stingrays. Matthew settled into his seat with a corn dog in one hand and a frozen lemonade in the other. They had primo seats, right by the home plate dugout.

“Great seats, Elijah!”

“Gotta be fully close to appreciate the bloodbath!” Elijah chortled. He knew more about baseball than Matthew did. “Be loud for Guaron’s at-bat. He’s batting .316 this year.”

“He’s what?” Matthew could remember diseases and medicines that had twenty letters to their names, but he generally fell short at sport stats. “Sorry, you’re gonna have to explain everything to me.”

“Ooh, trust me, digging into the details is a baseball nerd’s dream.”

Matthew took a mouthful of lemonade and the sweet, tart slush danced across his tastebuds with the perfect sharpness. He loved frozen juices.

“How long have you been a fan?” he asked Elijah.

“Always! Playing catch with my dad was one of the few athletic pursuits I got pretty good at.”

The five of them sat back to watch the game. Elijah explained the details to the two boys whilst Sienna and Jackie kept half an eye on the game as they talked about something completely unrelated. Elijah’s excitement rubbed off on Matthew and he cheered and booed with everyone else as the Stingrays built up a two-run lead. At the third inning, the Nighthawks manager walked out of the dugout to the mound and spent several minutes in discussion with the players.

“What could they possibly be talking about for so long?” Landry groaned, dismissively. “They’re just throwing a ball around.

Elijah laughed.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Lando. Baseball’s all strategy: each team plays one hundred and sixty-two games a year. Hundreds of at-bats, thousands of pitches, every one studied and analysed. Every moment is calculated. Infinite statistics.”

Landry looked back at the playing field with renewed interest. “I do love statistics…” He was right where Elijah wanted him.

As Landry and Elijah started discussing the game in more detail, Matthew zoned out a little, finishing his lemonade. He was content to let the buzz of the game wash of him in the company of his friends, the sun warm on his face. It was nice not to have lives depending on him, or residents like Zaid breathing down his neck. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed.

A young pitcher stepped up to the plate for the Nighthawks and Elijah cheered encouragement. The pitcher – apparently named Jake Sandberg – was sweating profusely; when he took off his hat, Matthew could clearly see his forehead was drenched. So could Jackie, and they shared a look.

“He doesn’t look so good…” Jackie said, but before completing her sentence, the pitcher had vomited…and collapsed.

“Oh no!” Sienna gasped as confusion rose up amongst the fans and the infielders rushed to Sandberg’s side. The manager was frantic as he charged onto the field.

“Our team physician quit on us right before the game!” he groaned. “What are we gonna do? Is anyone here a doctor?”

Automatically, all five roommates shot their hands into the air. The manager blinked at them, completely flabbergasted. He clearly hadn’t expected a real answer to his question.

Sandberg was rolled onto a stretcher and his team mates carried him into the Nighthawks locker room, the doctors following close behind. One of Sandberg’s team mates was hastily dialling 911 as they gathered awkwardly in the doorway to give the doctors space to work. The manager tried to reassure them that Sandberg would pull through.

Elijah seemed a little dazed as he rolled towards the stretched that had been placed on a bench. Landry – who brought his doctors bag everywhere – was already listening through a stethoscope as Sienna reported shallow breathing.

“Sounds like fluid build-up…could be in trouble…”

Matthew turned back to the team.

“Can you give us some background on Sandberg? How long as he been pitching for you?”

The players explained he hadn’t been pitching with them for too long and, though he hadn’t complained about pain, he had been having a lot of ice baths, even on days when he wasn’t pitching. The manager looked awkward.

“He’s been struggling in the majors. I’ve been in discussion with ownership to send him back down to minors. You know how it goes with rumours, he probably started picking it up and got nervous.”

The nearby players nodded in agreement.

“He kept freaking out about it…hyperventilating and sweating.”

“Hyperventilating…how often?”

“I only saw it a couple of times…”

“He always seems tired though…”

“Definitely yawning a lot in meetings…”

“Was he on medication?” Elijah asked.

“He wasn’t prescribed anything.”

Matthew and Elijah returned to their friends – who had just ruled out heatstroke – and reported their findings. A flash of blue caught Matthew’s eye: a Stingrays player had just snuck in.

“Hey, you can’t be in here—”

Matthew shut up in surprise when one of the Nighthawks players stood up and hugged his rival tightly.

“Thanks for checking in, Ray. We’re just praying.”

The Stingray player looked at Matthew guiltily.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, I just wanted to check in…”

“That’s fine, just…weren’t you fighting on the field just now?”

The Nighthawks player chuckled. “Yeah, we’re rivals on the field but only on the field. Me and Ray grew up playing baseball in the streets of Miami.”

“Sure, when we’re playing we’re a hundred percent focused on the game,” Ray added. “But when it’s over, we’re brothers again.”

“It’s really that easy?” Matthew’s mind wandered back to the hospital.

“It gets heated but only because we’re only pushing each other so hard. Iron shaping iron, y’know?”

Iron shaping iron…

“I think that’s it!” Matthew gasped aloud to no one in particular. He jumped back to his friends, leaving the players slightly confused behind him. “Drug interaction! I think he has meds that are amplifying each other!”

“That could be it!” Sienna gasped.

“Wait, what medications though?” Elijah asked.

“If he was already worried about being cut, he must have been taking something on the down low.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time someone’s done that,” Jackie nodded.

“Maybe an anxiety medication?” Matthew suggested. “If he had an anxiety disorder and is in a high-pressure situation…”

“Oh! Fluoxetine? It’s not too difficult to get a prescription for that.”

“Say you’re right, what’s interacting with it?”

“If he was taking a lot of ice baths he must have had pains…it was most likely a painkiller.”

“Was it arthritic inflammation?”

“Ankylosing spondylitis!”

“Wait, wait…what are you on about?”

Their rapid conversation had left the manager and the team completely baffled. Jackie quickly explained the situation in layman’s terms: Sandberg was suffering from a form of arthritis that affected the spine.

“He’d have likely taken an NSAID for it, like celecoxib,” Matthew said to his fellow doctors.

“That kind of interaction could do irreparable damage to his kidneys. We gotta get him to a hospital,” Elijah said urgently.

The manager pulled Sandberg’s bag out of his locker and Jackie and Matthew dug through it. It appeared empty until Matthew found a zipped pocket. He opened it to find fluoxetine and celecoxib: exactly as they had suspected.

“Great,” Jackie said, on-point and no-nonsense. “Now we gotta get him to hospital before his kidneys take too much damage.”

As if summoned, the sound of helicopter blades cut through the locker room. The players seemed to collectively sigh in relief.

Being the strongest two of the group, Matthew and Jackie took charge of Sandberg’s stretcher. Elijah led the way, Sienna and Landry kept to Sandberg’s sides. The medivac chopper had just touched down and a female paramedic, with long, dark hair, jumped out immediately, preparing the loading equipment. As the blades slowed and stopped, the pilot jumped out and Matthew recognised him instantly. He broke into a smile.

“Matthew!” Rafael recognised him immediately too. “What are you doing here?”

“Right place, right time. The patient’s name is Jake Sandberg, twenty-two years old. He collapsed due to an accidental overdose of celecoxib interacting with fluoxetine,” Matthew explained to the paramedics as they loaded Sandberg onto the chopper and worked to attach fluids. Rafael looked back at him, impressed.

“Wow. You solved this already?”

“We all did.” Matthew indicated his friends, who were having their hands shaken off by the rest of the team. Sienna glanced over and gave Rafael a friendly wave, which he returned with a smile.

“Well done,” he said to Matthew. “I thought you were only in your first week!”

“We are.”

“You don’t sound like it.” Rafael spoke with one hundred percent sincerity. Matthew was surprised into speechlessness for a moment. The compliment from the paramedic had been so off-hand it felt like it should have been obvious, yet Matthew needed the third-party observation to be convinced. Maybe his first week hadn’t been as disastrous as he thought it had been.

“Do you want to come with us?” Rafael asked. “We could use a doctor on board. Plus my shift technically finished ten minutes ago so I could show you round a little afterwards.”

“Really?” Matthew looked over at the helicopter with a flicker of excitement. “That…would be really cool!”

Matthew rushed back to his friends to tell them he was going to assist the paramedics on the way back to Edenbrook and would see them at home. They noisily told him to get going before heading back to their seats, and Matthew rushed back to the chopper. The crowd was cheering as the blades started up.

Matthew strapped himself into the seat beside Rafael, whose colleague was in the back with Sandberg. Rafael handed him a headset and helped him adjust it with warm fingers.

“Can you hear me OK?”

“Loud and clear.”

“Lucie, are you strapped in?”

“Safe and secure!” The woman passed Matthew a clipboard. “Doctor, can you sign his medical chart?”

Matthew nodded, quickly scrawling Sandberg’s diagnosis and signing his name. Rafael steered the helicopter out of the stadium, then glanced over at Matthew.

“Are you adding your friends names too?”

“I’m telling you, it was a group effort.” Matthew grinned as he passed the chart back to Lucie. Rafael beamed at him before refocusing on flying. Excitement hummed in Matthew’s chest as he eyed the city beneath him. Buildings looked like matchboxes and cars were just little spots of colour. He could see for miles, the ocean glimmering behind the city.

“Look here.” Rafael indicated a spot below. “What do you see?”

Matthew peered and then his eyes widened. “Is that the hospital?” He laughed. “It seemed so big on my first day but from here it’s tiny!”

“Everything gets put into perspective up here, it’s one of the reasons why I like it so much.”

“How did you learn to fly?”

“My uncle was a pilot in the marines. He taught me to fly when I was still in high school.”

“Seriously? That’s young!”,

When Matthew was in high school, all he had done was study. His most extreme form of transport was horseback riding through fields.

“It was just a fun thing to do on weekends. It was a great way to spend time with a great man,” Rafael said, with a nostalgic smile. The admiration in his voice was sweet.

“Are you still close?” Matthew asked, but sadness crossed Rafael’s face.

“He died two years ago.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“He was really active in our community,” Rafael said. “When he wasn’t flying he would organise food drives and buses for anyone struggling. He was so generous.” The sadness left Rafael’s face, replaced with contentment. “It was actually what made me want to be a paramedic; I wanted to help people too.”

That was touching, and it was cool to hear how Rafael had chosen his career. Matthew liked his dedication; it was similar to his own.

The helicopter touched down on the Edenbrook helipad, where an attending and a nurse were already waiting. Rafael and Lucie quickly unloaded Sandberg and handed him over to the medical staff. Lucie was staying at the hospital and she called back to Rafael ‘fly safe!’. Rafael ran back to the helicopter, his hair ruffled by the blades. His eyes were bright and he was flushed with adrenaline.

“He’s gonna make it, thanks to you,” he announced proudly.

“Couldn’t have done it without you either, flyboy.” Matthew was just as impressed.

Rafael’s smile was practically splitting his face as the chopper took off again. The sun was lower in the sky, making the skyscrapers glitter. Matthew spotted his apartment building.

“Let me show you my favourite part of the city,” Rafael said.

He moved the chopper over a flat, urban residential neighbourhood, plenty of trees and a few small parks. Mathew could just about see the shadows of people in the street.

“That’s where I grew up,” Rafael explained. “My grandparents immigrated from Brazil and bought an apartment. It was a cheaper market back then,” he chuckled.

“Do they still live there?” Matthew asked.

“No, they bought a nearby house later on. But my parents moved into their old apartment, so I got to grow up in it. They’re still there now and I currently live…just there, a few blocks away. I could never leave this neighbourhood.”

Rafael carefully angled the chopper as he pointed out the various buildings his family lived in. Matthew wondered what the neighbourhood was like to visit; there seemed to be fewer cars around here. He glanced back to see Rafael smiling down at the place happily. It clearly held importance to him. Matthew could easily picture him as the gentle neighbour who went round lending a hand to the community when he was needed, the same way as the uncle whom he admired so much.

“Sounds like you’re a family man.”

“Big time. Are you close with yours?”

That was complicated. Matthew had a great relationship with Holly and his Uncle Tony, but they had had a tough ride. Although he hadn’t officially cut off his father, they hadn’t spoken in a long time.

“Kind of…?” he said awkwardly. “We’ve been through a lot, and it’s taken its toll.” He bit his lip as he looked out of the window.

“It looks like you’ve found a second family for yourself,” Rafael said after a minute, relaxing when Matthew smiled.

“You mean my roommates? Yeah, I’ve been really lucky there.”

“I’ll bet they’d say the same about you.”

Rafael had a twinkle in his eye. Matthew wondered if he was this complimentary to everyone.

Outside, the sun had started to set, tinting the city orange. Golden hour had never looked quite like this.

“It’s so beautiful,” Matthew murmured.

An idea took hold of Rafael.

“Want to see a really nice view?”

“I don’t think anything could be better than this, but you can try!”

With a laugh, Rafael turned the chopper away from the city and over to the coastline. Matthew watched eagerly and then his jaw dropped as Cape Cod came into view. The grey buildings gave way to the blue-green seaside landscape. The water reflected the bright light of the sun hanging low in the rosy sky.

“My second favourite part of the city,” Rafael said fondly. “Hell of a drive by car, but in the air it’s only fifteen minutes.”

Matthew couldn’t speak. Rafael watched him take it all in, his eyes wide and blue as the ocean itself.

Rafael kept the helicopter hovering, sitting in comfortable silence as they enjoyed the view. The ocean moved below them, with ever-present waves. Closer to the shore, white sailboats dotted the surf. Seagulls flew below them with wind ruffling their feathers. The sunset illuminated the whole scene, washing the sky in pink and orange rays and filling the cabin with warm light.

Matthew’s eyes roamed the view, trying to commit as much of it to memory as possible. He murmured something that Rafael just about picked up over the headset: “I can’t believe this is my life.”

Matthew finally looked away from the city – his new city – and back to Rafael with a shy smile.

“Thank you for showing me this.” His stomach fluttered, soaring alongside the birds. His life was on the cusp of something very special. “Maybe we could come back here sometime…stop somewhere…share a drink…”

Rafael’s cheeks darkened as he bit his lip to hide a smile. The sun behind him almost made him look like he was glowing. “I’d like that…but for now I have to get this chopper back.”

The sky grew darker as they flew back over the city, but the warmth never left the cabin.

Matthew couldn’t help feeling impressed that he’d correctly directed Rafael to his apartment building on the first try. Rafael lowered the chopper slowly.

“So I just climb out of an airborne chopper now?” Matthew asked, with an eager smile.

“Is that OK? I can set her down if—”

“No, I definitely want to climb down. I’ll feel like an action hero…kind of like you!”

Rafael laughed loudly – a rich sound that filled the cabin – as he turned away, blushing a little. Matthew carefully removed his headset and handed it back to him. Their hands brushed against each other as Rafael took it. Their eyes met, and butterflies started up in Matthew’s stomach. The corner of Rafael’s mouth flicked upward before he cleared his throat.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Matthew’s fingers were tingling where they had brushed against Rafael’s skin.

“Goodnight Dr Valentine,” Rafael said wistfully, as he released the ladder.

“Goodnight Rafael,” Matthew replied. He held Rafael’s gaze for one more second before he descended, leaping off the last few rungs off the ladder with ease. He stood and shot Rafael a wave.

The night had never been brighter as he headed for the door…only to find it locked.

“Crap…” he muttered, digging his phone out of his pocket and dialling. “Hey, Sienna, are you home? Great! I need a favour…”

As Sienna told him she was on her way to rescue him, Matthew looked back over his shoulder. Rafael was hovering. Matthew waved again, but he doubted Rafael could see him from where he was.

After another minute, the door opened to reveal Sienna. She had an eager smile.

“How was it?!” she asked, looking through the doorway where they both watched Rafael ascending and flying away. Matthew gave a contented sigh as he watched. Sienna practically tugged him back inside.

“Well?” she demanded. “How was it? What happened? What’s going on between you?”

“Sienna!” Matthew protested. “We took Sandberg to the hospital, and then we flew over Cape Cod for a while. Nothing to it.”

“Uh-huh.” Sienna clearly didn’t believe him. “He didn’t start a conversation with anyone else, or ask anyone else to fly.”

“Had any of you met him properly before today?”

Sienna admitted they hadn’t.

Matthew was still buzzing and bounced on his feet in the elevator. Almost as soon as he got through the door of the apartment, he started talking about Rafael and the helicopter, leaving his roommates no option but to wait for him to run out of steam.

“…If you guys get the chance to fly in a helicopter, do it! It’s the coolest thing…”

Matthew finally trailed off when he realised he had been talking too much for anyone to get a word in.

“Anyway, how was the rest of the game?” he asked, settling into the corner of the couch.

“You won’t believe this but, until Sandberg, Landry had been taking notes all game and then gave the manager advice that actually led to the Nighthawks winning!” Elijah crowed. “Unbelievable.”

“Well…all I did was look at the evidence and diagnose the problem…which is why you can all kiss that diagnostics position gooooood-bye!”

“Dream on, buddy, I’ll give you a run for your money!” Jackie pointed a butter knife at Landry and everyone laughed.

Matthew watched them happily as he thought back over the day. Iron shaping iron…

He jumped up and made for the door.

“I’ll be back soon, guys…there’s something I forgot to do…”

His friends all gave him knowing smiles…and the minute Matthew closed the door, they all exchanged looks.

“So we’re all agreed Matthew has a crush on the paramedic?” Jackie said.

“Really?” Landry asked. Elijah shook his head pityingly.

“You didn’t notice him talking a mile a minute? What do you think, Sienna? You saved him from the roof.”

Sienna nodded, knowingly.

“He’s crushing.”

Meanwhile, Matthew was hurrying through Edenbrook to Dr Ramsey’s office, where he knocked on the door and heard a muffled “come in”.

Matthew entered. Dr Ramsey looked up from his computer and removed his eyeglasses.

“Rookie,” he greeted.

“I want in.”

Ethan’s eyes slid over to the clock on the wall and Matthew’s followed: 12:01AM.

“I think I made it very clear that the cut-off was midnight,” Ramsey said, crisply. “So go ahead. Tell me why I should make an exception for you.”

“I want to help people the way you do,” Matthew said in a rush, without thinking about it. “The entire reason I ranked Edenbrook first on my application was because of you and the diagnostics team. Please give me a chance to prove how worthy I am to do that.”

There was a pause. Matthew suddenly wondered if he’d blown it completely.

“You had me worried there,” Ethan smirked. He opened a spreadsheet on his computer and added Matthew’s name to a very long list.

“Thank you, Dr Ramsey!” Matthew beamed.

“Don’t thank me,” Ramsey warned. “Just don’t make me regret it.”

Matthew left the office with renewed excitement, giving himself a discreet, mini-fistbump as he closed the door. He was officially in the running.

#playchoices #open heart #rafael aveiro #mc x rafael aveiro

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heaven-s-black-box · 1 year ago

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Field Trips & Chaos- Crossover chpt.1

Return to File - SPN File - DNA File - BSD File

Recovery date: December 18th, 2020

Description: The Winchesters are contacted by a very tired Japanese government official, trying to deal with a very troublesome case. Meanwhile, a coincidental schedule lands some high schoolers in the wrong place at the wrong time. Will everyone survive?

Notes: This entry has been translated for viewing facility, all bold writing is Japanese.

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

Word count: 654

Back to directory

“Oh thank god!” Dean sighed as the plane landed.

“Oh come on, it wasn’t that bad. You were very brave,” Sam laughed condescendingly.

They’d just landed after 16 hours in the air on the way to Narita airport. The flight hadn’t been all that bad though, first class, courtesy of a secret department in the Japanese government. Not that Dean had noticed, he’d been too busy trying not to scream, which Sam had found absolutely hilarious.

A few days ago, they’d received a call from a Japanese government official named Tsujimura who was contacting them on behalf of her boss. She didn’t tell them what department she was from, claiming it technically didn’t exist, and only told them there was a potential world ending threat. Just their kind of thing.

Apparently everyone knew who the Winchesters were if they were even remotely tied to the world of the supernatural.

“So, how do we get to Yoko… Yoko…”

“Yokohama?”

“That’s the place!” Dean snapped his figures, and a few people looked at them funny. Sam just shook his head.

“They got us train tickets, so you don’t have to worry about flying anymore. It’s supposed to be about an hour and a half by train, and they’re going to email the tickets once we get to the station.”

“So, we aren’t on a time limit?”

“I’m sure you can get food at the station,” Sam rolled his eyes, “let’s find it first.”

It took them a while, and Dean mostly whined about hunger the whole time, but they eventually found the JR Narita express. Dean ran off to grab food, while Sam took a seat and emailed Tsujimura about their arrival.

Not even a minute later, the tickets were sent in with a departure time of twenty minutes from then.

“Yo, she get-”

“Come on, we have to find platform four. It leaves in twenty minutes,” Sam said, grabbing his bag and heading off towards the nearest directory.

“Come on,” Dean groaned, shoving the last of his power bar down.

They rushed a little more than necessary, and made it with a few minutes to spare, which Sam used to steal a power bar from Dean.

The platform was slightly busy, and someone was yelling, but they were finally able to sit down and take a break.

They’d gotten little sleep on the plane, with Dean in constant fear and Sam trying to learn basic communication and etiquette, so they were well beyond exhausted. Not to mention the jet lag from flying across the world and the overall ambiguity of their mission.

Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them, he saw Dean slowly nodding off and nudged him.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep yet,” Sam laughed.

“Screw you,” Dean mumbled.

The sound of rattling tracks had the boys standing and getting ready to board.

“Yosh!”

They winced as someone’s yell flooded the tunnel.

“Shut up Bakamura!”

“Ow!”

Sam sighed, “God I hope they don’t board the same cart as us.”

“You and me both. I, for one, would like to sleep.”

They entered the cart and took seats as far back as possible.

“That’s not frowned upon, right?” Dean asked, turning to Sam.

“I don’t think so, from what I could find it’s actually a sign of hard work.”

“Good.”

Closing his eyes, Dean settled in for a short nap knowing Sam would poke him in a half hour so they could switch. It was something they’d decided on during the flight so they wouldn’t miss their stop.

“Remember, keep your voice down.”

“Why are you looking at me!”

“Because your the only one stupid enough to start yelling on a train.”

“Wha-”

“Miyuki, don’t get him started.”

Sam looked up from his phone,over the seat, and frowned.

“Please tell me it’s not-”

“Yup.”

Dean poked his head around the seat to see the rest of the cart.

“Shit.”

#researcher s's recovery #supernatural #bungo stray dogs #ace of the diamond #daiya no ace #field trips and chaos #dean winchester #sam winchester #crack

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yanafiles · 2 years ago

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The Adventure of the 7 Dwarfs (regardless of height :))

Dear blog,

Another file to add: 5 weeks of OJT done!

To sum up my OJT experience, it was a story of friendship and exploration. Unlike my friends who are very positive when it comes to dealing with difficult things, I always prefer to be practical and accept what reality will hit me with. From the day we were looking for a company that would accept us, I was that “black sheep” in the circle who assume that we will never get in. But when fate finally took us to this agency that no one knew even existed, we all probably felt that possibility of being accepted.

However, the struggles did not end there for we, as newcomers to the city, needed a place to live in. We had a discussion about whether we would rent an apartment or a condo. At the end of the round table, we decided to stick with the fully furnished condo so we no longer need to bring a lot of stuff. But to give you a clear picture of that condo, just imagine a small room with a little kitchen good enough for two people but we, four piglets, managed to fit in. The place is not exactly luxurious as one would imagine when they hear the word “condo.” It is more like a small apartment located on the 12th floor of a well-designed building.

Another struggle is having our MOA signed. One thing I learned from the past is to trust the process which I hope I have shared with my friends. There was a time when some of them got stressed and almost hopeless because of the slow progress of our documents. I can’t blame them because the university officials were behind schedule in giving us a response when they were the ones demanding so many documents, and the person in charge is always out of her office (until now).

But we made it from day 1 to day 23. And cheers to the five weeks I had with my friends. Cheers to the moments we explore Quezon City and Manila and managed to walk, literally walk, our way home when we could have ridden a jeepney. Cheers to the long walks especially on day 1 when we could have taken the shortcut. Cheers to the times we got lost in an unfamiliar place at 7 pm. Cheers to our difficulty in hailing a cab and to one rainy night when we need to go home. Cheers to our taxi rides when we always get stressed about the drivers who took the longer routes and made us pay more than we used to, at least we discovered those routes. Cheers to our bus rides and being given a ticket worth 1 peso when we paid 15 pesos, and to the “zombie apocalypse/over the bakod” vibe we witnessed when people were already desperate in getting on the bus. Cheers to our memorable train ride where we learned not to leave our phone in our pockets unchecked and to distance ourselves from people rushing out of the train. Cheers to us getting confused about the train terminals. Cheers to us getting tipsy and drunk and to me who had an allergy reaction the next day. Cheers to us receiving a disconnection notice and contract termination from MERALCO because our lessor did not pay our electricity bill. Cheers to the multiple times the receptionists and security guards doubting and asking us which unit we live in. Cheers to our long wait in the laundry hub. Cheers to our sumptuous and very fulfilling dinners. Cheers to our lunch trip and daily mix ‘n match. Cheers to us being fond of the koi fishes and to learning the nature of their pond. Cheers to our road trips and field trips which were supposed to be field work. Cheers to the free lunches we had and to the treats that our supervisor shared with us. Cheers to the chilling moments in the office, library, and our little condo. Cheers to the plans we accomplished and to those we have missed. Finally, cheers to the epic and funny memories we had together.

To my friends, especially to the three people who I spent most of my time with, I am sorry for the first time you witnessed my cold temper and for the second time which I was not sure you ever noticed. I am sorry to the whole group during our last day when we were taking pictures and I cried. I was itching to go home because of the chores I have to accomplish and I am also not in my good shape and mood. But I felt bad to tell you as it will ruin the atmosphere because it was supposed to be a joyous moment for all of us after the struggles we had before our OJT.

I was really grateful that we made it. We traveled the roads we never thought we could reach. We met good and dedicated people. We learned skills we could not get in the university and we also learned so much about each other, among them is the love stories of a girl named Rafaelita. The journey we shared together will always be kept in my mind and I hope that we could continue this someday when we become more capable and...financially stable😂😅.

Yours truly,

Yana

PS: I shall not compute how much I spent in a span of 5 months. I might have given an impression of being “magastos” but really, I just spent my money on things I knew I will use or consume. Lovelots.

#journal

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ladyaj-13 · 2 years ago

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LadyAJ's 2022 Fics

This year I wrote 28 new stories across four fandoms - One Direction, Kingsman, Endeavour and Eagle of the Ninth. Details below, I hope you’ll check some out - a mix of short tea break fics and longer ones, and a good scattering of rare pairs amongst the fandom standards.

One Direction

Follow Your Arrow - T, 36k, Louis/Harry

Canon compliant omegaverse band era pack-fic with touch-starved luna Louis, dropping, and other good stuff. Written for the One Direction Big Bang.

They said Louis playing alpha wouldn’t affect anything. It was the best thing for the band, so he doesn’t really regret it except deep in the dead of night, when he bites down on his knuckles to swap the echoing ache of depri for a sting of pain. But if he’d known it meant stepping back from Harry?

He’d have thought twice.

Bit by Bit and All at Once - M, 23k, Louis/Liam

Canon compliant, present day friends to lovers story, with long overdue love confessions and a very oblivious Liam.

“It’s not a joke,” Louis says, so quietly it almost gets lost in the humming of the fridge and the TV still playing out to itself in the other room. “I’ve been meaning to say for a long time… always told myself I would before I turned thirty... I love you,” he repeats, slightly choked, awful. “I’m in love with you.”

Or the one where Louis is in love with Liam, but Liam doesn't love him back. Or does he?

Eight Days - T, 22k, Louis/Liam

My attempt at a true romantic comedy, this is a canon compliant, near future fic. Written for the Lilo fest.

“Eight days,” Louis says decisively. “If the paperwork takes three weeks that means you have eight days before you have to file it. Give me those eight days.”

“Wait, what?”

“To show you what you’re missing, being married to me,” Louis says with a ghost of his old cheekiness. “You want to end this marriage, well. I want to experience it first.”

Or: Louis and Liam got hitched in Vegas, completely forgot about it for more than a decade, and it comes back to bite them. Sort of.

Blind Date - G, 14k, OT5

Bantery, fluffy poly AU fic where all five of them meet through the reality TV show Blind Date. Podfic available, linked from fic.

Louis Tomlinson, model and aspiring actor, has been chosen to appear on Blind Date. The only problem is, all the contestants are wonderful. And so is the host. It's making things difficult.

You and Me (Got a Whole Lot of History) - T, 7k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw

A Walls-tour era canon compliant Tomlinshaw with exes to lovers - a bit of misunderstanding for flavour and maturity in the finish.

Nick loves the crush and fever of being right in the thick of things, but just the thought of Louis looking down and spotting him makes him feel a little queasy.

It hadn’t been a proper thing. It wasn’t a relationship.

With This Wing, I Thee Wed - T, 4k, Louis/Niall

I flirted with calling this either the Cheeky Nandos one or the Gay Chicken one. AU capers with fake dating! Written for the Louis rare pair fest.

“Nando’s?”

Niall crosses his arms and pouts, a little line appearing between his eyebrows. “I want Nandos. I like Nandos.”

“And I like my dignity,” Louis mutters.

Make Your Mark - T, 3k, Louis/Liam

A friends to lovers speed-run with university students Louis and Liam, a tube of lipstick, and some realisations.

When one of Liam's classmates isn't getting the hint that he's not interested, Louis suggests they make him look unavailable.

Choo-Choose Me - G, 3k, Louis/Liam

AU meet-cute - read it on your next commute!

Liam is a commuter with a crush. Louis is the chirpy ticket inspector who occasionally mans the drinks trolley and sometimes makes announcements, his broad Yorkshire accent fighting the outdated train speakers. The train ships it.

Common Interest - T, 3k, Niall/Greg James

After reading the commuter fic above, maybe read this one on your lunch break. An office AU with background Larry, Nouis friendship and Tomlinshaw frenemyship. Written for Wordplay “Swing”.

Louis hums, swirling his potato to form a gravy puddle in the middle. He dunks a sausage in it. “Not that I don’t love our little daily ritual, but when are you going to go get your boy, you big hunky slab of man meat, you?”

Niall looks at Louis in horror.

Tall, Dark and… wait, what? - G, 3k, Louis/Harry/Nick Grimshaw

A canon compliant, Liam-POV, tour-shenanigans take on Stylinshaw. Written for Wordplay “Describe”.

Liam just wants Louis and Harry to admit they're seeing each other. To feel comfortable being themselves within the band and know that they're supported. So, he sets up a little game.

Roses - T, 2k, Louis/Niall

Beware the tags. Heed the tags. I take a fluffy pairing and make it less fluffy…

He’s going to go for it. He’s going to ask to be - boyfriends, or partners, or whatever you call it when you’re in your thirties and already know each other inside out. It feels like jumping off a cliff, but at the same time - it’s Niall. He can’t be afraid with Niall.

The Elf who Saved Christmas - G, 2k, Louis/Harry

An alternate universe meet-cute, with shopping mall Elf!Harry (and Niall) to the rescue. Written for the 1D Christmas fest.

Ernie and Doris are tired, grouchy, and no one told Louis you had to book an appointment to see Santa.

Particular - M, 2k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw

Edging into smut, as I described it in the tags, read for useless cleaner!Louis and uptight!(sometimes)Nick. Written for Wordplay “Particular”.

Nick is very particular about the upkeep of his hallway's Brazilian hardwood floor. He is very particular about the cleaning of his kitchen's fine Wedgewood china.

He is less particular in his bedroom.

The Superstar Scavenger Scramble - G, 2k, Louis/Greg James

The whole point of this fic was the smooching - canon compliant and height difference, because of course. Written for Wordplay “Scramble”.

He wants to win. And not just because he’s competitive as fuck, likes to best the other boys and put them in their place whatever they’re doing, never mind that this is a silly Radio 1 scavenger hunt around London, but because of what - who - is waiting at the other end.

Food Fight - G, 1k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw

A little canon compliant snippet that encompasses Louis’ love for tomato pasta.

It’s Louis’ famed cooking skills against Nick’s more cultured palate. Fight.

Moths and Butterflies - G, 1k, Louis/Harry

A fic that is close to my heart and seems to have resonated with people - pride parades, insecurity and finding a friend (maybe more).

It seemed like such a good plan a week ago. It had seemed like fate, for the town’s Pride parade to fall at the very same time when work sent him there to charm some clients. Who was Louis, to sniff at a higher power?

It was exciting, a week ago. Now he’s here though, in the thick of it, and he thought it would feel freeing but it doesn't. It just rams home how he doesn’t belong.

Damn it, Let me Cuddle You! - T, 920 words, Louis/Niall

Part of my sleepy Nouis series, this is just cuddling, arguing and fluff. And a bit more bickering.

Louis and Niall are both the big spoon. This causes issues.

Check the Body - G, 869 words, Zayn & Nick Grimshaw

A little canon compliant fic about finding commonalities and making friends. Written for Wordplay “Check”.

“Check the body!” Zayn yelps, and Nick nearly jumps out of his skin.

Kingsman

Trading Players - T, 7k - Eggsy/Harry

An alternative first meeting if Harry wasn’t available to spring Eggsy from the police station - with lots of protective Eggsy and Eggsy&Daisy. Complete as is, but I may continue it next year…

With Harry away on a mission, Merlin answers Eggsy's call and inducts Harry's Lancelot candidate, a Thomas Mayfield, for him. But the story doesn't end there, just because the pieces aren't yet on the board.

There’s a faint whimper, too distant from the bug to be Eggsy, but it sharpens Harry’s ears. He hits run on the location tracking software.

“Fuck.”

Quiet, breathed. Hopeless.

“S’alright Dais. We’re alright, yeah? Just - just ona adventure.”

Electric - M, 2k, Eggsy/Harry

A bit of an experiment, with Harry doting and Eggsy learning to like it - mainly fluff, but with a little angst as the salt in the caramel.

Harry’s touch is gentle, but electric. His fingertips massage light circles across Eggsy’s scalp that raise goosebumps over his entire body, broad palms tilting his head this way and that, putting Eggsy where he wants him, and Eggsy lets himself be put.

Family Realisations - G, 1k, Eggsy/Harry but maybe more Harry&Daisy

99% of Hartwin includes an age difference relationship, but this leans into Harry having a (hopefully humorous!) realisation of that, thanks to Daisy.

Harry cuts up apple slices for his sister in law. Then he sits his sister in law in front of Peppa Pig for her designated half an hour of screen time, changes from his full suit into something more appropriate for an afternoon spent with a three year - with his sister in law, and when the episode finishes he takes his sister in law outside so she can check on her bug hotel.

Cascade - G, 1k, Eggsy/Harry and Tilde/Eggsy

Because everyone in this universe is clearly traumatised and making bad decisions.

This was a mistake.

And not just one mistake, no. This has been a whole series of them - a cascade of wrong turns and bad decisions, snowballing away until the momentum ran out.

Following in His Footsteps - T, 397 words, Eggsy & Merlin

Everything kept getting so long, I purposely wrote something tiny. But I still kind of love it. More Merlin & Eggsy friendship, please.

“In my defence,” Eggsy says shakily, because the whole point of the mission was capture only, Eggsy, we need information, “he was already dead when I got here.”

Endeavour

Uncommon People - T, 25k, Morse/Jakes

Merlin-esque alternate universe with prince!Morse, pining and shenanigans.

Prince Endeavour of Lincolnia is trapped by his status, and even worse - now he's expected to marry a woman he barely knows! But the Oxfordon cohort aren't all bad…

Snowy Morning - G, 1k, Morse/Max

An instalment in my domestic, established relationship Morse/Max series.

There’s an ominous silence, and he wonders if he’s about to be treated to an overly detailed description of what happens to feet when left cold and soggy in inadequate boots.

A Battle of Wills - G, 1k, Morse/Jakes

We all want to see out-of-his-element Morse on Jakes’ farm, right?

Peter eyes the two staring contest participants, wondering who will win. Morse has determination on his side. He'll never back down from anything or anyone, Morse – he's got grit, as some out here would call it. Not to mention those wide blue eyes, narrowed now, that miss nothing, no sign of weakness.

Sunny Morning - T, 860 words, Morse/Max

Another instalment in my morning series, so more domestic established relationship fic, featuring Max’s garden.

Oxford is swathed in a heavy, unbroken blanket of heat.

The Eagle of the Ninth

Old-fashioned Sensibilities - G, 2k, Marcus/Esca

A modern AU… my flirtation with this fandom was brief but very satisfying.

Marcus must marry before he turns thirty, or his inheritance goes to Placidus.

#year in review #my 2022 fics #one direction fanfic #1d rare pairs #kingsman fanfiction #endeavour fanfic #eagle of the ninth fanfic #aj writes fanfic #aj's 2022 masterlist

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study-coffee-chicago · 4 years ago

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Seasons of PD: Season 3: Jay’s Missing (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister! Imagine)

As always, I don't own any quotes from the episode that happen to be in here!

Your age: 14

Jay's age: 28

Will's age: 30

"C'mon Jay," you muttered as you called him for the third time in an hour.

It was the one night a month where you and your brother would go out to dinner together and if there was a hockey game on, you'd finish watching it at his apartment. Then, he'd take you home. He was skeptical about doing it tonight since you had end-of-the-year exams next week, but you reassured him that you'd be fine; taking a break for a few hours never hurt anybody. And, you had all Saturday, Sunday, and Monday night after school to study since exams didn't start until Tuesday.

"You've reached Jay Halstead--" You quickly ended the call and began texting Ruzek. Hopefully, he'd cave and tell you what was going on.

But, when the read sign popped up seven minutes later, you knew something was up. If Jay was going to be late, he would've called you, or at least texted.

Since it was late May, the sun was out later than in the winter, which meant that it wouldn't be dark for another couple of hours. So, you grabbed a light sweatshirt and pulled it on, grabbed your phone and a few dollars and put them in your pocket, shouting a "bye Dad" on the way out...not that he cared what you did anyway.

You walked a few blocks to the El train stop, put your dollar in for your ticket, and hopped on. While you were on there, you were sure to have Ruzek's number pulled up on your phone and were ready to hit the call button in case something happened to you.

You looked at the map. The 21st District was just a few stops away. Soon, you'd know why Jay wasn't answering you. Hopefully, he was just out on a raid, handcuffing the bad guys.

***

"Kim," you said as you rushed into the district and saw the officer. "Do you know where my--"

You were cut off by the faint sound of a scream.

"Do I know where who is, Y/N?" she asked, completely ignoring what she had just heard.

"Jay, but that sounded like him screaming!"

You ran up the stairs to Intelligence, tugging on the gate even though you knew it wouldn't open without a member scanning their palm or Platt buzzing you up.

"Was that Jay? Is he there?" you yelled.

"Y/N, we can't let you up there right now," Kim explained.

"Why not? Jay told me we'd go out for dinner tonight and he always calls if he's gonna be late."

You looked up to see Ruzek coming towards the door.

"Would it kill you to answer a text?" you asked.

"Sorry, been busy."

"At least let me upstairs and then you can tell me where Jay is and I'll be out of your hair."

Ruzek sighed and allowed you to go up, Kim following you as well.

"Or Detective Halstead winds up as fertilizer in some cornfield in Indiana. We understand each other, Sergeant?"

"What'd he want?" Antonio asked, everyone totally unaware that you were now in the room.

"Halstead's life for all our CI files."

"H- His life?" you asked, frozen on the top step to the bullpen.

"Shit," Kevin muttered.

"Is he in trouble? Is he dead? Is that why he didn't answer my calls?" Your bottom lip started to tremble.

Antonio took a deep breath. He knew that if Gabby was in trouble that he'd want as much detail about what was happening as possible. "Something uh, something went wrong earlier," he supplied. "And then, because of that, some dealers took your brother."

"They took him? Took him where?"

"We don't know yet, kid," Al said. "But, that's what we're trying to find out."

When you heard that they didn't know where he was, you ran off towards the locker room. Ruzek tried to put his foot between the wall and the door to stop you from closing it and locking yourself in, but you were too fast for him.

You pulled out your phone and dialed a number you knew you probably should've called earlier when you first thought that Jay was in trouble.

"Erin? Jay's missing. You gotta find him. You're his partner."

***

Erin blearily reached for the phone, still trying to get over her hangover from last night--which lasted well into this morning--to go out for another night of non-stop partying, drinking, and drugs. She furrowed her eyebrows when she saw your name pop up.

"Hell--"

"Erin? Jay's missing. You gotta find him. You're his partner."

"He's--" She cleared her throat. "He's missing? What happened? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine. I- I called him because we had a dinner and he didn't pick up, so eventually I just- I came down to the district and I heard someone on the phone say they're going to turn him into fertilizer, Erin."

"Do you know who it was?" she asked as she grabbed her service weapon and slid it into the waistband of her jeans...the same clothes she had been wearing since last night. A call that her boyfriend was missing was definitely curing her hangover fast.

"I don't know. It was- It was some dealer. But, you gotta come here and help them find him. You're his partner. Please." Your voice cracked on the last word.

"Okay, okay, I'll call Will to come pick you up and explain the situation. I'm leaving my apartment right now. I'll be there soon."

"Please don't call Will," you urged. "He's gonna be mad at me."

"Why's he gonna be mad at you?"

"Because I took the El and I'm not supposed to take the El by myself."

"Y/N, you taking the El by yourself is the least of his problems at the moment. Just sit tight and I should be there in about ten minutes."

***

"Y/N, c'mon open this door. Please?" you heard your oldest brother's voice on the other side of the door. "I know you're worried about Jay, but it's not gonna help at all if you just lock yourself in here all night."

You sniffled and then walked over to the door and unlocked it. "Will!" you cried, rushing into his arms. "He's gone, he's gone, he's gone."

"Hey, hey it's okay. You're okay. They're gonna find him and then you can have two dinners with him next month because you missed yours this month."

The number of times Jay had been shot or hurt on the job had caused Will to basically be immune to hearing bad news about his little brother. But, if Jay didn't come back or flatlined, then he'd be freaking out. And, despite Will wanting to scream at all of Intelligence to go find him, he knew he couldn't do that. He couldn't lash out right now because it'd only make it worse for you.

Your stomach growled, making Will go into even more protective brother mode. "When's the last time you ate?"

"Lunch," you answered.

"Y/N, it's 7:30. We gotta get some food in you."

"But, but what if he comes back? I wanna see him when he comes back."

"I'm gonna be honest with you. When he comes back, he's probably gonna need to go to the hospital just as a precaution. And, I know you have exams soon and your algebra one is stressing you out. I don't think Jay would want you to fail an exam just because you were worried about him."

"I hate math," you grumbled.

"I know. That's why you need to make sure you study."

"Doesn't mean I'm gonna end up liking it because I have to work on it."

Will didn't know what to say to that because he knew that you were right. So, he reiterated his previous point. "Let's go get you some food."

"Can-Can we just eat at home?" you asked. "I don't wanna not be home and hear bad news about Jay."

Will knew what you were getting at: you didn't want to break down in public.

"Yeah, we can do that. Still got a bunch of mac n cheese at home?"

"A few boxes," you answered, remembering how bare the cupboards were at your and your dad's house.

"We'll just grab something on the way home. C'mon."

"Can Erin come, too?" you asked.

"Go ask her. And, don't take the El by yourself. That's dangerous."

You rolled your eyes and followed him out of the locker room and into the bullpen.

"Erin," you started as you walked up to her desk. She had her head in her hands.

"Hmmm?" she asked looking up.

"Do you wanna come back to my house and eat dinner with me and Will?"

"I don't know if--"

"She'll come," Voight answered before she could finish.

"Hank!"

"Erin, we'll still be here working when you're done with dinner. Lord knows you could use some food in you."

"Fine." She stood up and grabbed her coat. "Not like you're letting me help with the case anyway," she muttered. But, no one heard that part.

Since she had quit Intelligence in Bunny's bar a few weeks ago, Voight was right in having her not work the case...not that she'd admit that. But this was her boyfriend, her partner, that was in trouble and she'd be damned if she didn't help get him out of this mess.

***

"Dad's not home?" Will asked as he let them into the house using the spare key that was hidden under a layer of dirt in the flower pot.

"He never is," you mumbled.

"What? What do you mean he's never home?"

"I mean, he's never home on Friday nights because he always goes out to the bar with some old friends," you told him. That was at least true. He did go out to the bar with some old friends...but it wasn't just Friday nights anymore, it was Friday, Saturday, and sometimes Thursday and Sunday, too. Because of this, he ate out a lot and didn't cook. Therefore, he had no reason to buy a lot of groceries, which was why there wasn't a lot of dinner food left in the cupboard...not that there was a lot of breakfast or lunch food here either, though. There was just enough for you to play it off that your dad just needed to go to the store. There was just enough for your brothers not to worry.

"Okay." Will started to grab the Olive Garden you had ordered out of the bag. You said you weren't hungry--you didn't want to eat when you were this nervous-- and had only wanted to get some minestrone soup. But, Will insisted that you needed more than that so you compromised: minestrone soup and half an order of fettuccine alfredo...plus the breadsticks and the salad that came with the meal obviously.

A while later, Will was almost done with his food and was grabbing another breadstick and Erin was putting more salad onto her plate. You, on the other hand, had barely managed to finish your minestrone.

"Y/N, can you please eat a bit more? How about a breadstick? I know you love those," Will said.

"I'm not that hungry," you said quietly.

Will was about to say something when Erin stepped in. "How about you work on some of your homework? Maybe that'll make your appetite come back since you're using a lot of energy to focus. And, Jay mentioned that you have exams next week."

"He did?" you asked. You didn't think that Jay would mention stuff that you had going on in your life, like exams, to Erin.

"He always says how proud of you he is for working so hard in school...because he says that he was never as good in school as you."

"He really says he's proud of me?"

"He sure does."

"You guys mind if I do it out here? It's a lot easier to write stuff down when I'm writing in my notebook on the table instead of balancing it in my lap on my bed."

"Sure, kiddo," Will said.

You went to your room and grabbed your backpack and then started to work on your homework.

As you were working on it, your brain wandered back to the first time Jay had helped you with your math homework, all the way back in kindergarten, at this very kitchen table, when both of your parents had been working and Will was all the way in New York for his first year of med school.

You were sitting at the kitchen table, trying not to crumple up your math homework sheet and throw it across the room. It was only five subtraction problems, but subtraction was hard! You had only just started understanding addition!

You threw your pencil across the kitchen, where it narrowly missed the wall. It clattered to the floor, causing Jay to look up from where he was reading a book in the living room, the chair he had been sitting in was facing the kitchen, so he could keep an eye on you.

"Did you throw that?" he asked as he walked towards you.

"No," you lied.

He picked up the pencil. "If you lie, you get nine minutes in time out instead of six."

You didn't want to go in time out that long!

"I throwed it," you admitted, looking down at your math homework.

"It's threw, but thank you for being honest. Can you tell me why you threw the pencil?"

That was something his mom always did with him when he was younger: asked him why he did something and then, possibly put him in time out. Sometimes, he just needed to talk it out, and if that was the case, he didn't have to go into time out.

"I don't get sub-trac-shun!" you complained. "It's stupid!"

"Hey, we don't use that word."

"But it's hard."

"I know, but what if I help you? Would that help you to get it?"

"But Will said you not good at math," you pointed out, remembering something your oldest brother had said.

Jay chuckled. "I'm not good at big kid math. This stuff is easy for me."

"It's easy?"

"Oh, yeah. And, I think I might have something that can help you."

He walked over to the cupboard and reached up to the top shelf where he grabbed a bag of chocolate chips. He poured some into a small bowl and then walked back to the table and sat down next to you.

"We gonna eat chocolate?" you asked. "Even though I throwed-- I threw my pencil?"

"This is gonna help you learn subtraction."

"How?"

"Just watch." He paused and looked at the paper in front of you. "So, this one says five minus two."

"I know that," you told him proudly. "I know it says five minus two. I dunno what the an- the answer is though."

"Okay, well, take five chocolate chips out of here."

He held the bag out to you while you took five out, counting each one out loud. "What do I do now?"

"Now, if I eat two--" he popped two in his mouth. "--how many do you have now?"

You looked down at the chocolate chips. "One...Two...Three. I have three choc-chips!"

"That's right! So, five minus two is...?"

You scrunched up your face, trying to piece together what he had done. "I dunno."

"We had five chocolate chips. I ate two. How many did you say we have left?"

"Three!"

"Yeah. Five minus two is the same thing...just without me adding chocolate chips to the end."

"Huh?"

"Here." He took your paper from you and on the first three problems, he wrote chocolate chips after each number. "Five chocolate chips minus two chocolate chips is...?"

"Three!"

"Yeah! Good job! Now, write three down as your answer."

The next problem was three chocolate chips minus one chocolate chip and you did the same thing this time. Except, you got to eat the chocolate instead of Jay. You had two chocolate chips left this time.

Then, when you got to the last two problems that didn't say chocolate chips after the numbers, Jay showed you on your fingers how to figure out the answer.

Then, since you did such a good job, he let you watch Dora and eat some more chocolate chips.

"Y/N? Y/N? You good?" You were snapped out of your thoughts by Will saying your name.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm fine." You reached over the table to grab your pencil that had rolled towards Will. But, as you were reaching for it, your elbow knocked the two-liter of pop. "No!" you cried out as it spilled. It didn't just spill anywhere though...it spilled right on top of your algebra notebook. "Fuck this! I can't do this!"

You threw your pop-covered and sticky notebook on the ground and sprinted to the bathroom, ignoring Will and Erin's calls for you to come back.

You locked the door and slumped down against it. God, you needed that notebook. That had your entire exam review in it. And, if you didn't finish the exam review, you couldn't take the exam.

You only had 25 more problems left out of the 220 you had to do, hence why the review was given to you a month before you actually had to take the exam, so you had time to do it. And, some kids would wait until the last minute, but you figured you'd start early and do a certain number of problems a day so you didn't have to stress out and had time to ask your teacher questions if you had any.

But now, now you had a matter of days to do all 220 problems...and you had other exams to study for...and your big brother was missing...and...

Shit, here comes the Olive Garden.

You jumped up and lifted the lid of the toilet, quickly emptying the minestrone soup from your stomach.

"Y/N? Y/N! Open this door!" Will yelled as he banged on the door.

You leaned back against the bathtub and took a few deep breaths, willing yourself not to throw up again. You groaned as you felt the liquid rise in your throat and were back above the toilet in a matter of seconds.

You were panting at this point and trying to take a few breaths before more came out. Because you were so focused on making sure you didn't inhale your own vomit (ew) you didn't hear Will pick the lock and enter the bathroom.

When all that was left for you to throw up was bile and you were finished, you closed your eyes and leaned back against the bathtub once more, and took deep breaths.

"So that's why you didn't want to eat any more than you did," Will said.

"Will? How'd you get in here?"

"I picked the lock, Jay's not the only person in this family who knows how to do that, you know."

"I hate this," you mumbled, eyes still closed. "It happened last semester with exams too, but it wasn't this bad."

"Kid, you're stressing yourself out too much. You have to take a chill pill."

"I c-can't!"

"Okay," Will started as he crouched down next to you. "Why can't you relax?"

"I spilled pop all over my notebook!"

"So? You already practiced those problems. You know you don't need to practice them again, so just do the ones you need to practice."

"You don't get it!" You frantically rubbed the heels of your hands over your eyes as tears started to stream from them. "I needed that notebook! If I don't turn in the entire exam review I c-can't take the exam." You sighed and just put your head in your hands. This night seriously could not get any worse at this point. "And, Jay's miss- Jay's missing!"

"Y/N, I need you to take a deep breath for me, okay? Just take one."

"O-Okay." You took a deep, yet shaky breath.

"Now another."

You took another deep, yet shaky breath. And, you continued this cycle until Will deemed your breathing to be back to normal.

"How about you brush your teeth and then we'll figure out what to do for the homework once you do that. Sound good?" You nodded and stood up to go to the sink. "I'll be in the kitchen with Erin."

Then, Will exited the bathroom to go back into the kitchen like he told you.

"How is she?" Erin asked when she saw him come in. She had started cleaning up their take-out containers while Will had been busy trying to calm you down. "Sounded like she was puking."

"Because she was."

"Is she sick?"

"Not in the technical sense. But, she is what I like to call stress sick."

"Stress sick?"

"Exams are stressing her out, so add on top of the fact that Jay's missing, and she got so stressed out that she threw up."

"Poor kid," Erin sympathized. Then, her phone buzzed. "I gotta get back to the district. Tell her to feel better from me."

"Will do." He started to walk Erin towards the door, but stopped when they were almost to it. "And Erin? Bring my little brother back. Even though he's a pain in my ass half the time, I can't lose him. And, I know Y/N would take it really hard."

"Will, he's got the best unit in all of Chicago looking for him. We'll bring him back."

A few minutes after Erin had left, you walked into the kitchen, with clean teeth and the gross taste of vomit now out of your mouth, to see Will sitting at the table, staring at your notebook with a roll of paper towel next to him. "What are you doing?" you asked as you sat down.

"Trying to get the stain out," he replied.

"How? It's like the entire notebook, not just one page."

"You're talking to the king of spilled coffee on homework. And, lucky for you, pop and coffee are both water-based. So, I think I know how to get this out. You're gonna need to rewrite it in a new notebook, though."

"Okay. Need any help?"

"Can you just get me a bowl filled with water?"

"The paper's already wet. Why do you want to make it wetter?"

"Just trust me on this one." You yawned. "After you grab that for me, maybe you should go to bed. It's been a long day."

"Will you stay here?"

"Of course. I can just sleep in my old bedroom...unless Dad did something to it. Speaking of Dad, is he usually out this late? Does he usually leave you home alone this late at night?"

You were filling up a bowl with water and turned to look at Will. You shrugged. "Sometimes. It's okay, though." That was a lie. Most nights he didn't get home until two or three in the morning...but, Will didn't need to know that.

"I'm going to have a chat with Dad about that. He shouldn't be leaving you home alone this late at night."

"Will, it's not even that late. I'm fine." You placed the bowl of water on the table.

"Fine. But if it hits midnight and he's not home yet, then I will be talking with him about this."

You nodded. "Well, I'm gonna go to bed. 'Night Will. Sorry about getting sick."

"You don't have to apologize for that." He stood up and pulled you into a hug. "Goodnight."

You started to walk towards your bedroom when you remembered something and turned back to Will. "Will?"

"Hmmm?"

"Do you think Jay's okay? He's gotta be okay, right?"

"Y/N, he's got the best unit in the city looking for him."

"And Erin."

"And Erin," he confirmed. "He'll be okay." But, in that moment he didn't know who he was trying to reassure more: you or himself.

***

"You wanna go somewhere today?" Will asked as you were both sitting at the kitchen table eating cereal the next morning.

"I have homework to do...a lot more than I thought I'd have, too. Did Erin give you any updates on Jay?" you asked.

He shook his head. "But, he's gonna be okay. And, you don't have a ton of homework to do. You have a ton of homework to copy."

"What do you mean?"

At this, he placed the notebook on the table. "I told you I knew what I was doing."

You flipped open the notebook to see that Will was right: he did in fact know what he was doing. Even though the pages were all still tinted a light brown from the pop, the writing from you doing all the practice problems was still legible. "How did you...?" you trailed off as you continued to flip through your algebra notebook.

"Like I told you, I spilled coffee on one too many notebooks in college. Now all you need to do is copy the problems down into a clean notebook. Save you some brainpower."

"Thank you."

"Now, I suggest we got to CCU's library so you can get a change of scenery while doing that."

"CCU? Why? And, you're not a student there anymore. How are we gonna get in?"

Will scoffed. "They don't check student IDs when you go in. And, a change in my workspace always helped me to focus when I was studying, so maybe it'll help you."

"Workspace," you mocked. "So professional. But, yeah, let's do that. Can we keep our phones on though in case Erin calls?"

Will nodded. "Of course."

***

Getting into CCU wasn't actually that hard. All Will had to do was pay $10 for a day pass to park and then you walked into the library, no student ID necessary.

"Okay kiddo, where are we sitting?" he asked.

"I don't know. I've never been here before. Where did you normally sit?"

"Second floor. It's generally quieter up there and the tables are big, so I could throw my books all over it. But, I'd come back down here for coffee a lot, too."

"There's a coffee shop?" you asked as you widened your eyes. "In the library?"

"Well, tuition is out of this world. So, at least we get something out of it."

"Can we go? I think I have $5 somewhere in my backpack."

"If prices haven't gone up since I was here when the dinosaurs roamed the earth, then I can get a muffin and a large coffee for $5. I'll have the coffee and you can have the muffin. I'll pay," Will told you.

"Okay, thank you! And, you're not that old, Will."

You got your triple chocolate muffin and Will got his large coffee. Then, you found one of the big tables that he had mentioned and started copying your algebra review into another notebook.

"What are you going to do? Sit here and stare off into space?" you asked your brother. "Wait," you began as you started to rummage around in your backpack for an eraser, "What's this?"

You set a big book on the table. And it's definitely not something you'd read because it was called "How We Learn", which you assumed meant that the book was nonfiction and went into the science of learning.

"I found it in my room. Must've left it there from Christmas last year and I haven't had a chance to read it, so I figured I'd bring it to read now."

"Fair enough."

***

"Did Jay ever want to go to college?" you asked a few hours later. "Or, did he know it just wasn't right for him?"

"I think he always knew he wanted to do something involving being on the front lines and being in all the action," Will answered, dog-earing the page in his book and setting it down. "Why? You don't want to go to college either?"

"No, I do," you said quickly. "It's just- I just want to know things that I've never asked him if we...you know..."

Will nodded. "I know you're worried about him, but if Hank Voight's anything like Jay's told me, he won't let anything happen to one of his own."

"But he let it happen to Jules," you said. What if Jay was the next Jules?

"Jules? Who's Jules?"

"She was Antonio's partner. Antonio's the reason Jay got into Intelligence. And one day, he said we were going to go see a movie. Like, he just randomly picked me up from school and everything. I could tell he was sad after the movie, and it wasn't a sad movie, and he told me that someone he worked with died. A little later, we were walking by the memorial wall by the district and he showed me her name."

"I see," Will said, drawing on his talking-to-patient skills because what else was he going to say?

Luckily, he was saved by his phone ringing.

"Hello? Erin?" Pause. "He's at Med?" Pause. "Okay, yeah, we'll be there in ten minutes."

"He's okay?" you asked as soon as Will ended the call. "Jay's okay? They found him?"

Will nodded. "He's at Med. Erin said he's a little bruised, but he was conscious, so that's good."

You took Will's book and shoved it in your backpack along with your schoolwork. "Let's go."

***

"Nat, really, my ribs don't need to be wrapped. I'm fine," Jay protested as he sat in a treatment room at Chicago Med, Erin standing next to him in some clean clothes that Natalie had let her borrow.

"Jay, your ribs are badly bruised. They need to be wrapped. If you're more comfortable with a guy wrapping them, I can easily call in a male nurse for help," Natalie suggested.

"No, it's not that. I don't care who does it."

"My little brother just doesn't want to bruise his big ego, that's what's going on, Nat," Will said as he entered the treatment room with you by his side.

You jumped when Jay turned and you saw his face and his chest: a black eye that went from the inside corner of his right eye to his right temple, a gash on the top right of his forehead, another gash on the left side of his forehead which was diagonal and above the outside portion of his left eyebrow, a jagged cut that went down his left temple starting at eye level, a split lip, and purple, blue, and red bruises along with some cuts and welts that littered his ribs and chest.

"You're okay?" you asked as your lips pulled into a frown and tears stung your eyes.

"I'm okay. Just a little beat up right now. Nothing to worry about."

Without thinking, you ran to his bed and gave him a hug. He let out a groan as you squeezed a bit too tight, irritating his ribs.

You pulled away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's okay, my ribs are just gonna be a little sore for a few days."

"I thought you were going to be turned into fertilizer."

"Fertilizer?" Jay furrowed his eyebrows. "Who told you that?"

"When you didn't call me back about dinner, I tried calling Adam, but he didn't pick up either, so I went to the district. I heard some guy on the phone saying he was going to turn you into- into fertilizer. I was so scar- so scared."

Tears rolled down your cheeks faster than you could wipe them away.

Jay stood up with a grimace and walked the few paces over to you, wrapping you in a hug. "Hey, I'm okay now. That's all that matters. And, you did a really good job calling Erin."

"I did?"

"You sure did. She told me all about how you told her that I was gone and that she'd be able to get me out because we're partners." He paused. "She also told me that you took the El by yourself."

"Erin," you whined. "You weren't supposed to tell him that."

"It's okay," Jay said. "I won't tell Dad as long as you don't do it again."

"I won't," you replied. Not like Dad would do anything anyway, you thought to yourself.

"Jay," Will started, "You need to get back into bed."

"It's just bruised ribs, Will. I'm fine," Jay argued.

"It's just bruised ribs, Will. I'm fine," Will mocked. "Yeah, tell me that tomorrow when you can barely walk because of how sore they are. Bed. Now."

"Fine." Jay sat down with a huff and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I swear, you're such a child, Halstead," Erin said.

***

You walked out of school a few days later feeling free. Summer was here and you were no longer a middle-schooler. You were now a high schooler.

You started to walk out of campus, the way you took to walk home every day, when you heard the thundering of footsteps behind you, causing you to jump and turn around.

"Jay." You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw it was your brother.

"Hey, figured I'd pick you up. My text must not have gone through."

"Oh, I turned my phone off because of exams. Sorry."

"No problem. C'mon, we're going out to lunch and then we'll stop home to grab your swimsuit."

"Swimsuit? Why?"

"Mom would always take us to Navy Pier on the first day of summer to go swimming. And, since Will's shift ends at 1:00 and I'm on leave because of injury, it's the first year we can actually do this all together."

You nodded, trying to hold back tears at the mention of your mom.

"Hey, let me take your backpack. That thing looks like it's gonna make you topple over." You took it off and handed it to him. "Whoa! What's in here? Rocks?"

You laughed. "Nope, end of the year locker cleanout. Everything that was shoved in my locker is now in there."

"No rotten food I hope," Jay joked.

"No," you laughed. "Why? Did you or Will leave food in your locker?"

"No, we knew better than that. But the kid next to me left a milk carton in there over spring break and that smelled funky when we got back. I started bringing my backpack around with me just so I didn't have to go back to my locker because it smelled so bad."

"We can't do that. Teachers say it's for our safety because of bombs."

Jay opened the door to the backseat and put your backpack in there while you got into the passenger seat. Then, he got in the driver's seat all the while thinking how you knew that that was the reasoning behind that rule. He knew the reasoning because he was a detective. But he thought that most of the time, kids just thought it was some stupid rule.

"How do you know about that?" he asked once he started his truck.

"One of my teachers told us. She was mad at a kid who kept bringing his backpack to class even though she told him not to, so he went off on her and called it a stupid rule and asked why we even had the rule. She told him it was because if there's a bomb threat then she has to check every single backpack. That's why."

"Oh," was all Jay said. He really didn't want to be having this conversation with you, but here he was.

"Is it different?" you asked.

"Is what different?"

"Like, is high school different now than when you were in high school? And how different is middle school from high school?"

"Are you nervous for high school already, kiddo? You just finished eighth grade like fifteen minutes ago!"

You shrugged. "I'm just curious is all." Jay quirked an eyebrow at you while he took his eyes off the road for a split second and then returned them back to the road. "Okay, fine. I'm a little nervous."

"Let's talk about this over brunch, okay?"

"Okay."

***

Of course, Jay knew that you wanted to go to iHOP because breakfast was good at any time of the day. Jay thought differently though and ordered a sandwich instead of breakfast food like you. You had gotten their cinnamon roll pancakes with bacon, sausage, and hashbrowns on the side.

You were waiting for the comment about it being a lot of food, but that never came...which you were thankful for. You didn't know how you were supposed to explain to your very perceptive brother that the reason that you were eating a lot here was that you only had about 3/4 cups of dry cereal this morning before school because you were out of milk. You were out of milk and your dad didn't go grocery shopping. And, it's not like you had enough money to buy groceries or that you knew where your dad kept the money so you could take $20 just to buy food and hide it in your room so that you had something to eat.

"So, what do you want to know about high school?" Jay asked. "Did you get your schedule yet?"

If you were going to Central Chicago High School after going to their middle school, you had the option to schedule your classes the month prior and then you'd see if you'd get those classes. Of course, it might not be possible to get every class with every teacher you want, but it was cool that you got to know right when you finished eighth grade. And, in high school, it was the same thing: on the last day of ninth grade, if you were staying for tenth grade, then you'd get your schedule on the last day of ninth grade. It was sort of weird to you, but you got used to it.

"Is Eva going to be at the beach, too?" you asked. You knew it was her's and Diego's last day of school along with Jordan's and Vanessa's, so you wanted Jordan and Eva to be there when you told everyone your schedule so they could tell you everything they knew about the teachers you had next year.

"I can text Antonio. Why?" Jay asked.

"I just wanted to see if Eva and maybe Jordan would be there because they could tell me everything about the teachers I have."

"I can text Antonio and Kevin. You know what, I'll text Ruz and Burgess too."

"And Mouse."

"And Mouse. Can't forget about him now, can we?"

"What about Erin? Is she coming, too?"

"Uh, I don't know about that. She's had a rough couple of days."

You furrowed your eyebrows. "Why?"

"You know how Voight took her in?" You nodded. "Well, after Nadia died, she was backsliding. Badly. And now, she's detoxing and it's kinda hard on a person's body."

"Okay, but seeing you would make her feel better. She's always happy when she's around you. And you always have this big, dopey grin on your face whenever you're around her."

"I do not," Jay protested. You raised your eyebrows at him. "Okay fine, maybe I do that occasionally. I'll text some people and then we can talk about high school."

Jay sent the texts while you continued to eat. He took a few bites of his sandwich and then broached the topic of high school once more by saying, "So, what do you want to know about high school?"

"I dunno. How's it different from when you went to school like twenty years ago."

"Hey! It was not twenty years ago. I'll have you know it was ten years ago!"

"Same thing."

Jay rolled his eyes. "Well, shootings happened, but not as much as they do now." You opened your mouth to ask if Jay had ever responded to one, when he stopped you. "And I know what you're going to ask. No, I didn't respond to one and I wouldn't tell you if I did. What do I always tell you?"

"I'm trying to keep you innocent and sheltered from all the bad stuff in the world," you said verbatim of what he had told you dozens of times when you asked for details of what he was doing at work.

"Word for word. So, we got to carry our backpacks around and it was an open campus."

"It used to be an open campus?" you asked, shocked.

"Yup, we rarely even had to sign out."

"Lucky! I wanna leave school and go to Mcdonald's for lunch!"

"Too bad you weren't born like fifteen years earlier and that could've happened."

"Oh, and we could eat lunch on the roof. There was a way to climb through the ceiling above the indoor track. It's closed now, though."

"Why'd they close it?"

"Yeah, you might want to wait until we're at the beach for me to tell that story since I'm sure everybody else would find it funny."

"Okay..." you trailed off, drawing out the "y". You didn't know why everyone would find a story of a hole in the ceiling being closed funny, but you figured it was best to let Jay have his way...with this one at least. "What's the difference between middle school and high school?"

"Now, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret: nobody cares in high school."

"What do you mean?"

"Just ask Eva when we get to the beach."

"She's coming?"

"Her, Diego, Antonio, Kev, Adam, Kim, Jordan, Vanessa, Mouse, Erin, and of course Will are all coming."

***

Luckily, Jay decided to stay in the car while you ran inside your house and changed into a swimsuit, slipping your clothes over top of it so it would be easier when you got to the pier.

"Dawson!" Jay yelled as he walked up the beach, bag in hand filled with his swim trunks, water bottles, and a few bags of chips. Typically, he would've brought beer to the beach, but he had to drive home, with you in the car no less, so no drinking for him.

"Halstead!" Antonio yelled back.

Once you got up close enough, you saw that Gabby was there, too.

"Bring Gabby to be your DD, Antonio?" Jay jokingly asked.

"I mean, I'm sure Ruzek's bringing beer, so I might be able to get away with one."

"Uh uh," Gabby said. "If Kim brings some fruity drinks, you're driving home."

"So, if she brings regular drinks I can have a few beers?"

"Your cap is two, Antonio. You've got these two to take care of." She gestured to Eva and Diego. Diego was already jumping the waves and Eva was laying down on a beach towel starting to get a tan.

"Eva!" Antonio yelled. "Y/N's here!"

"Oh thank God," she said and walked up to you. "Girl, come sit your towel down next to mine and then we can look at your schedule."

"Yeah, I wanna see that, too!" Jay exclaimed.

"Should we wait for Will? And Jordan? Maybe Jordan has some input about the teachers. And, Jay said he has a story to tell about a hole in the ceiling of the high school and he wants to be sure everyone is around to hear it."

Ten minutes later, everyone had arrived and was in their swimming gear. "Okay, what's this story about the ceiling, Jay?" you asked.

"Oh, that story," Will joked.

"Yeah, that one. What other one would there be?"

Will rolled his eyes.

"Okay, before I start, I am going to preface this by saying that I was young and I was very stupid."

"He's stupid every day," Will dramatically leaned over Jay and whispered to Erin.

"Man, would you shut up and let me tell the story?" Will sat in silence for a few seconds. "Thank you.

"We all know about senior pranks. Well, it was my senior year and a few of us from the soccer team decided to pool our money together and buy some live chickens--"

"Did you say chickens? As in chickens with feathers? That squawk?" Kevin asked.

"Yes, real chickens. What other ones would there be?"

"Maybe they were chicken nuggets," Adam suggested.

Jay dramatically sighed. "Antonio, did you miss having me in the unit this week? You and Erin had to put up with these two bozos all by yourself."

"Hey!" Adam and Kevin yelled in unison.

"Anyway, as I was saying, some of us from the soccer team pooled our money together to buy chickens. Real live chickens, not chicken nuggets, Ruz. Then, we chose a Sunday night to get into the school--they always left this one back door unlocked--and we climbed onto the roof from the stairs/hole thingy in the ceiling right above the indoor track.

"Once we got to the roof, we dropped the chickens off of it. But, our stupid lookout got caught and then the cops came."

"You got arrested?" Adam laughed. "This is priceless."

"Didn't get arrested. Just had to do community service to be able to walk at graduation. But, nowadays, yeah, I'd have probably gotten arrested."

"So, that's why they closed it? Because you and your friends decided to drop chickens from the roof?" you asked.

"Exactly."

"Were Mom and Dad mad?" you asked. "I was little. I don't remember."

"They weren't thrilled, I'll tell you that much. I think if I would've gotten arrested it would've been a lot worse."

"He's downplaying it," Will said. "Mom grounded him from everything. Car keys, those crappy Motorola phones we had back then, GameBoy, dates with Allie. He couldn't do anything."

"Does not sound fun. I won't be trying that." You pulled your schedule out of the bag Jay had brought and passed it to your brother first.

"Aw, man, you got Cunningham for history," Jay groaned. "Or should I say Cuntingham."

"Jay!" you yelled.

"That old hag is still teaching? Damn," Will added.

"Okay, what's the issue with her? Eva? Jordan? Anything about this Cunningham lady?"

"She just hates freshman," Eva supplied. "When you become a sophomore it gets better."

"And she hates when you tip back in your chair," Jordan added. "She'll make you pay her 25 cents if she sees you do it in her class."

"Okay, no tipping in chairs, and I have to deal with her for a year, noted." You turned to your brothers. "How do you know of her?"

"I didn't have a problem with her other than the fact that she's a crappy teacher," Will said. "But Jay, on the other hand, he's a different story."

"What'd you do?"

"So, I was a freshman when you were born and Mom went into labor the night before I had a test. And, because everyone hates tests, I went to the hospital with Will that morning and we waited for Mom to you know, be done giving birth to you.

"And, I went to school the next day and this old hag said that because there wasn't a doctor's note that I couldn't take the test--"

"He was this close--" Will pinched his pointer finger and thumb together so that they were almost touching. "--to taking you to school one day just to show you to Cunningham and saying is this a good enough doctor's note for you?"

"But Mom wouldn't let me do that...for obvious reasons. And then, because I couldn't take that one stupid test, I did not do well in that class."

"Just say you're related to me," Will said. "Don't mention Jay's name at all and you'll be fine."

"Got it. I'm gonna go in the water now."

You started to go in the water when you heard Erin and Will trying to convince Jay to go in.

"Dude, I can't roughhouse because of my ribs, you know this!" Jay told Will. "And, I am not going in the water with you again, not after what happened last time."

"Jay, that was twelve years ago, give it rest."

At this, your ears perked up. "What'd Will do?" you asked, walking back up to your brothers and Erin.

"He tried to drown me."

"Did not! I just wanted to see how long you could hold your breath."

"Yeah, see how long it would take me to drown!"

"He tried to drown you?" Erin asked.

"Yeah," Jay answered. "Me and Will were playing in the water. I was like 16 and Will was like 18. Y/N was a little toddler and was playing with her shovel on the beach. Then, Mom had to go to the bathroom, so she left me and Will in charge."

"Bad idea number one," Will said.

"There's more bad ideas. So, Y/N's playing in the sand, me and Will are playing in the water, and then next thing I know, Will's practically on top of me and holding my head underwater."

"And the minute I let you up was the minute Mom came back."

"Yup, perfect timing."

"And then you have Y/N who's sitting on the beach and decided to watch us and was just clapping her hands and chanting again, again!"

"Really?" you asked, as you tried to hold back your laughter. "I did that?" Will nodded and you shrugged. "Sounds pretty accurate to me."

"And then I didn't get ice cream after."

"Yeah, you didn't get ice cream after." Jay took a deep breath. "You almost killed me!"

You rolled your eyes. "I'm going in the water to cool off. Maybe it is best that you guys stay here. But, I mean, Gabby's here and I hope to God Will knows CPR because he's a doctor and that you cops do, too."

Once Will saw that you weren't focused on him and Jay anymore, he turned to his little brother. "Hey, how old was dad when he kinda, you know, clocked out on parenting us?"

"Early high school," Jay answered. "Why are you...oh shit, Y/N."

"Yeah, Y/N," Will reiterated. "And, we had Mom, so it wasn't that bad. But, she doesn't have that."

"She's got us," Jay said. "That's gotta count for something."

A/N: I was going to post this last night, but I almost fell asleep while editing, so it's coming out now. Anyway, not sure how I feel about this one, but I got it done, so that's all that matters. Thank you for reading! Please vlike/reblog and comment and tell me what you think! As always, if you want to be added to the taglist, just comment that you want to be added down below. PS: That story about chickens being dropped into the courtyard at school, yeah my older cousin did that for his senior prank and the lookout got caught and they had to do community service to walk at graduation.

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e

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golden-barnes · 4 years ago

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𝓛𝓲𝓺𝓾𝓲𝓭 𝓢𝓶𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓱 I : ‘𝓒𝓪𝓾𝓼𝓮 𝓲𝓽’𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓸𝓷

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Summary: Spencer always gives her a warm smile, despite being a stranger but he never imagined that their meeting would be like this.

Word count:1.3k

Warning: Mentions of the case they are working on, suicide, and stuff involving the investigation

Author’s note: I am very excited about this. It’s my first Spencer story, so let’s see how it goes.If anyone want to be added to my taglist, send me an ask. Comments and reblogs are always welcomed.

“Order for Spencer!” The barista shouted. Spencer grabbed his satchel and his papers and rushed to get his food and coffee. He was waiting for his next class to start and decided to get a snack to clear his head and revise his notes.

He thanked the barista and went to add the insane amount of sugar he likes to add to his coffee.

That’s when he saw her again.

Spencer saw her everywhere. At the coffee shop. On the university campus. At the library. At his favorite bookstore. She was there but strangely it didn’t worry Spencer. She didn’t look dangerous or that she was a threat. She intrigued him. She looked like a normal University student, so it never raised any alarms in Spencer’s head.

She seemed lonely though. That’s what always struck Spencer as interesting. Most college students travel in groups but she was always alone. Reminded Spencer of his time in college.

Spencer bumped into her, carelessly. This was the first time he had seen her up close.

“Oh, are you okay?” Spencer said to her, grabbing her forearm to stabilize her. The woman only nodded. Her eyes were focused on the door of the shop. Spencer looked in the same direction to see a man with short, brown hair standing on the other side of the street, looking at the two. Glaring at the woman. Spencer felt her shiver in his arms.

“Uhm, thank you, sir.” She mumbled under her breath and walked out in a hurry. The man Spencer saw was gone. Spencer frowned at that. She walked to the street where the man was and just like that, she vanished too. Weird way to start the morning.

And things got weirder when Emily called him after his last class ended.

“Hey, Reid. You are done with class, right?” She asked.

“Yes...What’s going on?” Spencer said, packing up his things from his desk. Usually, Emily wouldn’t call him while he was on a sabbatical. Unless it was for some team activity or some dinners at Rossi’s that they plan at the last minute.

“There’s this case and I know you are on sabbatical but we need your help,” Emily stated, trying to convey security. But her voice faltered at the end. This case had to be extra bad for Emily to call him and for her voice to be like that.

“How fast can you get here?” She added. Spencer could hear Luke in the back talking. Spencer walked out of his classroom and started jogging to his car.

“I am on my way.” Spencer said and hung up.

Spencer has only seen the BAU in a total mess only a handful of times. And today was one of them. Penelope was running to Emily’s office, where JJ and Emily were talking. All of them looked stressed. Rossi and Tara were talking to some agents. Rossi looked tired. The older man noticed the young doctor’s presence and called him over.

“That’s all agents. Wait for further instructions.” Tara concluded, and the agents went to their places. She let out a sigh of frustration.

“Oh, Reid. Thank God you are here. Come on let’s get you up to speed, kid” Rossi exclaimed, signaling to the younger man to follow him.

“For the past 2 weeks, we’ve been investigating a string of murder-suicides all over Virginia and Maryland.” Matt started. Spencer looked at all the pictures of the crime scene.

“10 men killed themselves. 5 of them were family men, and they killed their entire family before killing themselves.” JJ explained, her gaze was stuck on the photos of the families. They were happy and looked like normal, wealthy families.

“And there are no signs of foul play?” Spencer questioned.

“None, boy-wonder. But this is the weird part, none of these men had suicidal tendencies before their deaths. In fact, they were living the life. They were rich beyond all definitions of the word. They had several houses in different parts of the world and traveled to them a lot. They woke up one day and chose violence. Hell, Mark Holland, the 3rd victim, had plane tickets to Dubai.” Penelope answered. Spencer gave her a confused look. It seemed strange but nothing that the team couldn’t handle without his help. They’ve done this multiple times. Why was he called in?

Emily looked at the doctor, noticing the confusion in his face.

“These men have no connection except being rich, privilege, and white. But their paths have never intersected. M.O is different because every suicide wasn’t carried out the same. There’s no suspicious phone calls or messages. There’s no threatening emails from one sender. There’s nothing. Only the victimology.” Matt continued.

“It’s like the puzzle from hell because everything is missing.”Penelope snorted.

“We’ve been 2 weeks on this, and we only have one lead. The fiancé of the last victim overheard him murmuring a name for days. Y/N Y/L/N. Luke is bringing her to the interrogation room.” Rossi said, looking directly at the doctor. The rest of the team turned their attention to him. There was a silence in the room. It was uncomfortable, so much that Spencer shifted in his chair.

“Reid, we need a fresh set of eyes with this woman and this case. We’ve been too invested with no rest.” Emily finally explained. Spencer just nodded and grabbed the case files and headed to the interrogation room.

As if it were a joke, Spencer saw her again. Being dragged by Luke into the interrogation room. Spencer opened the files and saw the name Y/N Y/L/N and the picture. The same woman he has been seeing everywhere was the only lead in this impossible case.

“She hasn’t said anything?” Tara asked Spencer and Luke. Y/N was staring at the glass, bored. But for the past 30 minutes, she has been silent. Not even looking at the photographs of the crime scene that were around her.

“No. I’m gonna talk with her now, I think she has had enough time to think.” Luke said. Tara nodded and left the room. Something in the back of Spencer’s mind was telling him that she wasn’t going to budge.

“Hello, ma’am. My name is SSA Luke Alvez.” She huffed and crossed her arms. Luke smiled at her, trying to see if the nice guy approach would help.

“Do you know why you are here?” Y/N rolled her eyes. Maybe not.

“Probably to waste taxpayer money.” She retorted. Luke let out a soft chuckle but took out the photos that were in the files.

“Do you recognize any of these men?” Luke asked. Y/N glanced at the pictures. She looked bored still but there was no sign of recognition.

“So you want to waste taxpayer money.” She laughed. “No, I don’t know who any of them are. Now can I please go?”

“Do you know this man?” Luke asked, pulling out the picture of the last victim. She rolled her eyes again and leaned back in her chair.

“If you are gonna keep showing me pictures of men I don’t know, at least give me some water or something.” She joked. Her body language hasn’t changed. If she had anything to do with these murders, she was a great liar.

“How about a hint? His name was Nicholas Mclain.” Y/N stiffened. Her gaze was stuck to the door, similar to the way it was at the café.

She recognized the name but not the face? Weird. Spencer thought

Suddenly, Tara ran into the interview room. Spencer couldn’t stop her, so he entered the room with her.

“There’s been another suicide,” Tara announced, out of breath. Luke stood up and looked at Y/N, whose eyes were trained on Spencer.

This case wasn’t going to be easy.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #liquid smooth fanfiction

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nxrthmizu · 4 years ago

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love in bubble wraps.

fandom | haikyuu!!

pairing | kuroo tetsurou x reader

genre | fluff

w.c | 1.9k

author's note | based on a real life experience... :)

Love, you think, comes in many forms. Sometimes love is a warm, home-cooked meal that is now cooked at least once a week because you told your mother you liked it. Other times, love is laughing and crying alongside the friends you’ve known since pre-school because everyone passed their highschool finals with flying colours. Throughout our lives, we gradually come to meet the different forms of love, because it comes in all shapes, colours, and sizes.

First, we learn that love is a roof that you can always turn to when a storm blows in. Then, we learn that love is knowing that there are people who will drop everything to help you when your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. Lastly, we learn to interlock our fingers with the one we wish to walk to the end of time with.

Then again, love varies from person to person— Just like how the goddess of love, Aphrodite, looks different to every soul that sets its sights on her; Beauty truly lies in the eye of the beholder. For some, love comes in the form of a warm body to cuddle next to on a rainy day. For others, love comes in the form of a jewelled ring. For you, love comes in the form of a 6’2 man who still doesn’t know how to tame his bedhead.

Tetsurou is often too busy for his own good, always running around here and there to secure contracts, ensuring that Japan can make a name for itself during the Olympics. He books train tickets to opposite ends of Japan at least once a month, leaving before the sun rises and returning after it sets. The sun never dictates his work day, because while his coworkers work from nine to five, Tetsurou works until he finishes his tasks.

Okay, so your husband is a bit of a workaholic. And maybe not just a bit.

“L/N-san,” Your colleague asks one day out of sheer curiosity. A group of women are gathered around the snack station, sipping on cheap, machine-produced instant coffee as they gossip about their marital lives instead of working. “Now that I think about it… I’ve never met your husband, have I?”

“Ah,” You sweat-drop nervously at this. Wonderful— Your parents are already pressuring you about how Kuroo rarely visits with you— And now your coworkers, too? “He’s quite busy. He works very hard to make sure that we’ll be well-off in the future.” You respond, knowing that your reply is just a thinly-veiled way of saying ‘He’s rarely home,’.

“Oh, that’s awful,” Wherever you go, there’s always a middle-aged lady who has nothing better to do than to prey on the weak spots of your life, “It must feel lonely. You must feel so sad when you see my husband pick me up from work.” A smirk dances up her lips as she waits for you to walk into her trap, smiling as widely as a spider watching its incoming meal.

“Not really,” A practiced smile counters hers as you take a sip of your coffee. “I know Tetsurou loves me— There’s an unbreakable trust between us. He might not be home often, but I know that he’s working hard so that we can have a better tomorrow… And that’s sort of comforting, in a sense. Knowing that Tetsurou wishes for a future where we’re financially stable, where we can just spend a whole day doing nothing in each other’s presence…”

A chorus of ‘awws’ makes you blush. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the middle-aged coworker huff in failure. You mentally fist-pump the air at your victory.

“Anyway, I heard that you got engaged last weekend, Shiho-san,” Changing the topic quickly, you smile when the attention of all the ladies instantly redirects to the said woman, who blushes fiercely as they all coo at her ring. “Congratulations!”

“Oh my! He bought you such a beautiful ring… Ah, Shiho-san, you’re so lucky!”

“My husband also bought me a new bag last week,” The middle-aged woman chips in proudly, cocking her head towards her cubicle, where the leather handbag sits atop a tower of documents. “It’s very expensive.”

“That’s nice of him! It’s been forever since my husband bought me something.” Sighs another lady. Most of the group hums in agreement, sharing sympathetic looks with those that share the same fate.

“At the beginning, when we were still dating, Hayato used to buy me so many things, now…” The coworker that brings homemade cookies every New Years’ party says, looking dejected. “It’s like once we’re married, they don’t have to worry about making us happy anymore…”

“Ah, what about you, L/N-san? Does your husband buy you things often?”

You groan internally when the attention shifts to you once more. Honestly, you’re just there to listen and enjoy your coffee— Must you keep getting dragged into the conversation? “Well, personally I don’t really need my husband to buy me things to keep me happy, but… He does bring back trinkets whenever he travels.” You think about it for a while, then brighten when you remember the latest thing Tetsurou brought back for you.

“What is it?” Your change in expression isn’t missed by your coworkers, who preen with curiosity, excited to know what made you brighten up.

“Ah, it’s nothing… I promise, you’ll be disappointed if I tell you.” You chuckle.

“Come on!” “Be a good sport, L/N-san!” “We’re curious now, you can’t not tell us!”

“Oh, fine.” You sigh, “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

[ Three days ago, Saturday ]

You were on the couch, binge-watching Grey’s Anatomy with the Netflix subscription Tetsurou got for you to occupy yourself with while he was out of town. Your cat, Kazume (nicknamed after your husband’s best friend) lazed on your lap, yawning once in a while and swatting at the stray threads from your sweater.

Somewhere in between your fifteenth and seventeenth episode, the front door chirped with the sound of someone inserting a key into the lock. You perked up at the noise, Kazume yelping in protest as he almost slipped off.

“Oh, sorry Kazu.” You said quickly, a smile widening your lips as the front door opened.

“I’m ho—” Before your husband could finish his sentence, you were already at his side. Kazume meowed loudly from the couch, complaining about you abandoning him for another man. Tetsurou’s eyes softened, the edges of his hazel irises worn down by exhaustion. You took his laptop bag from him, as well as the folders he has in hand, balancing them like how you would balance your three grocery bags when Tetsurou wasn’t around to help. “I missed you too, but are you sure you can carry all of my files with one hand?”

“Yes!” You replied confidently, showcasing your balance as you wobbled through the living room with all of your husband’s stuff. Tetsurou’s laugh echoed through the apartment as he followed you, his reflexes coming into play as he dived for a falling file. “Oops.” You giggled, helping him up after he practically hurled himself at the floor.

Tetsurou shook his head, sighing fondly while he hugged you from the back, taking comfort in the familiar smell of your hair shampoo. “I missed you.” He mumbled.

“Me too.” You hummed, reaching back to stroke your hands through his still-untamed bedhead.

“Oh, before I forget,” Tetsurou leapt up suddenly, chucking his backpack onto the ground. “I brought back something for you!”

“I already have like, twenty-five keychains from Hyogo,” You reminded him, “Please tell me it’s not a…” Your voice trailed off when Tetsurou proudly whipped his gift from his backpack, hazel eyes shining for your reaction.

“... So?” Tetsurou grinned widely, like a five-year-old child holding up his drawing for his mother to critique.

“Oh my god, I love you.” You declared in your 80 sq ft kitchen, grabbing the gift from him. “I’ll clean up your stuff, go take a bath and we can have dinner while watching the…'' You pursed your lips as you try to recall the information that kept evading you like an annoying fly. “... 15th? 16th episode of Grey’s.”

“You started that without me? I said I wanted to watch that.” Tetsurou pouted petulantly like a child.

“I finished all the other stuff I wanted to watch,” You told him unapologetically. “And Kazume wanted to watch it too. Now hurry and take a bath or I’m starting without you.”

Twenty minutes later, you were cuddled up to your husband, who did not bother to comb his hair (“It’ll just be messy later anyway,” His reasoning was). Every few seconds, he would scoop some cold mash potato out of the giant bowl (The two of you were too impatient to heat it with the microwave) and feed you. All throughout the episode, there was the constant pop-pop-pop of you working your way through the giant piece of bubble wrap Tetsurou had brought home for you.

“You know, I was thinking,” You hummed as Tetsurou pressed ‘Next Episode’. “If It were any other woman, they might have slapped you for bringing just bubble wrap home after a whole week away.”

“Well, then I’m lucky that you aren’t ‘any other woman’, am I?” Your husband smiled, pressing a gentle kiss onto your lips before picking up the mash potato bowl again. “Are we just going to have mashed potatoes for dinner?”

“I bought spicy instant noodles yesterday, we can have that later if you want.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

[ Present, Tuesday ]

“That’s actually so sweet of him!�� Your colleague coos as you finish your story. “Wish I had a husband like that…'' Even the middle-aged lady begrudgingly nods in agreement. For a moment, you feel a surge of pride— It was your husband they were talking about— Your sweet, hardworking, dork of a 6’2 bedhead.

“You wouldn’t be able to survive.” Another lady snorts. “That guy is away for weeks at a time.”

You hum. “Well, at least he calls back every night, regardless of how tired he is.” In the corner of your mind, you remember that he makes sure to call his grandmother every weekend, and that he sends his parents (and grandparents) money every month, that he visits your parents the first Sunday after he’s back from his trips— Not to mention that he always brings a gift of wellness products (The most recent one was a box of abalone).

The group of women swoon once more.

“Well, I guess we should get back to work,” You dispose of your paper cup in the trash, brushing your hands off. “See you ladies later.”

The moment you’re back at your desk, you take out your phone to text your husband, who is, no doubt, going to be very, very confused.

[ y/n ] 2.37pm

— we have a problem

[ tetsu <3 ] 2.39pm

— what’s wrong???

[ y/n ] 2.38pm

— i may have accidentally caused 20 women in my office to fall in love with you

[ tetsu <3 ] 2.38pm

— what ???

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

you know it's love when your dad comes home with this giant piece of bubble wrap and your mom literally squeals and snatches it to immediately start popping it on the couch while browsing facebook on her ipad

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader fluff #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo #kuroo tetsurou x reader #kuroo tetsurou x y/n #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x you #kuroo tetsurou fluff #[ris writes]—✧

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legends-live-in-memories · 4 years ago

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Downtown Detour

ayo its ya boi back with more timari and ignoring my wips cuz im plagued with timari brainrot

written in the same au as:

Rooftop Rendezvous and

Alleyway Altercation (NSFW)

AO3 link to the series

Timari 2.2K words, no warnings other than references to intimate relations

Summary:

“Red Robin makes a breakthrough in his investigation of the new Gotham Rogue and goes to confront her about it.”

without further ado

Tim could not believe this. The new Rogue, Karma—Marinette Dupain-Cheng— had been spotted a total of three times since their last encounter by either his brothers or the cops and none have been able to subdue her for more than fleeting seconds. She was caught breaking into a politician’s house when the man was away on another one of his exotic hunting trips; another artefact was stolen from the museum after that, one they were unable to retrieve; and finally she was last seen escaping from Robin by the mayor’s office, only no one know what was taken from there. All three times she was spotted and nothing to show for it other than bruised egos and missing items.

During his little investigation into her supposed civilian name, he came across a series of interesting police reports from Paris, France of all places. A penchant for grand theft auto since her teenage years as well as a series of vandalism and reports of stolen student records from her high school at the time. There was even a rescinded expulsion, a litany of suspensions and a plethora of unexcused absences. She was a cookie cutter criminal in the making. But for Tim, it didn’t make sense. While all the evidence points to a child delinquent grown into an adult criminal, something about the situation set Tim’s teeth on edge. There was something missing. Something she wanted Tim to find out, if her giving him her name was anything to go by. But what?

She had no local address on file and the last piece of legal information that had any traceable location was a one-way ticket to Shanghai from four years ago. Immediately after her high school graduation. All her social media was deleted around the same time. She had effectively gone off the grid up until her emergence as a part of Gotham less than stellar night life. But why?

A closer look at her time in Paris led him to discover an interesting trend but it wasn’t anything concrete. Starting about when Karma—Marinette— was thirteen, her unexcused absences lined up with some of their infamous akuma attacks. While at first it could be argued that many children had unexcused absences in the beginning, and she had less than perfect attendance even before then, her disappearances also coincided with attacks far from her school which was where she should have been at those times. Then there were reports filed by police who spoke with her parents about her sneaking out at night which also lined up with notable akuma attacks. Either she was an overzealous fan of the city’s temporary heroes, or she was constantly in the thick of the action and kept it a secret from people close to her, letting her reputation suffer for it.

‘Trust me, I know all about acting in the name of the greater good. The good-girl act got tiring after a few years,’ she had said. ‘Much more rewarding to give into your own self-interests,’ she continued. ‘Something you could try emulating.’

Her words echoed in his mind. He never thought much of them before, his mind preoccupied with other things her mouth was doing that night. It could also be chalked up to everyone being the hero of their own story and she had just coloured her own experiences. But just maybe…

Before he could entertain that train of thinking, his phone alarm was alerting him of his scheduled patrol. Hopefully he could catch a hold of his current person of interest and get some more answers. And perhaps get a read on what her intentions are in this city. With him.

~~~~~~~~

The skyline was a welcoming sight as he flung himself from building to building. The wind beneath him carried him across the sky like an actual bird and the thrill of the freefall lit his nerves on fire. His route was quiet but his appearance should coax out a certain thief. Red Hood was investigating a weapons smuggling deal that was set to take place by the Gotham Harbour. Nightwing was back in Bludhaven with Signal, introducing him to nighttime patrol. Robin and Black Bat were tracking a drug deal that was rumoured to disrupt the balance of the Narrows. Spoiler was with Batman doing their regular routes and Batwoman was doing her own thing somewhere. Oracle, as always, was on standby on comms and monitoring everything. This was the perfect opportunity for Karma to strike so Red Robin just had to be patient. The night was young.

An hour into his sweep of the city and Oracle was patching him into a radio call about a break-in in some pawnshop back in the Fashion District. It wasn’t on his route tonight but Oracle figured that with their likely suspect, and his arrangement with her, he was their best shot at apprehending her. If only temporarily.

He arrived at the pawnshop without fanfare and found the storefront window broken into. Further inspection led him face to face with the object of his affection. Karma was posed calmly behind the cashier counter rifling through an assortment of jewelry that was left on display in the glass cases. It was only the faint twitch in her eyebrow that indicated her awareness of his presence. Other than that he went completely ignored. That won’t do. Not tonight. He approached her slowly and stopped on the other side of the counter, leaning into her space. He could faintly smell her rose-scented perfume. Her strawberry shampoo. Even the cherry lip gloss she wears under the mask. He’s tasted it enough times to know how strong it was. For a vision clad in black she was rather fond of red flavours.

“Can I help you, Tweety Bird?” her voice was soft, sprinkled with faux indifference, not wanting to disrupt the background noise of rings and necklaces clanking together. She hasn’t looked at him once.

“Breaking and entering and attempted theft are serious crimes, Karma.” He saw a faint twitch of amusement in her eyebrow but her posture was relaxed and non-assuming.

“That’s not why you’re here. That’s not why I’m here either.” Her eyes sweep up to him as she stops searching the jewelry. She’s staring intently at him as if he’s to understand the meaning behind the words she’s not saying. He does. They’ve played this back and forth before. Danced their little tango of push and pull.

“You wanted to see me then? Thought this was the best way to get my attention, hmm?” He leaned in, pressing his weight more into the counter. She matched his advance and propped her face in the palm of her hand. Her finger tapped on her mask. He figured if the accessory wasn’t there she’d be biting that finger instead.

“Well it worked. Didn’t it? You’re here after plenty of time to conduct a rather thorough investigation into who I am. Or was.” She took off the mask, finally, and he was right. Her lips were shining in the dim light of the night with the familiar hues of her lip gloss. He presses on to not let himself get distracted by the slight smile on her face.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, daughter of Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng. Paris, born and raised. Above average student in terms of grades but a disciplinary streak about a hundred miles wide.” At this her head tilts in amusement. Her faint nod encourages him to divulge all the aspects of his research. “Absences and tardies more often than any recorded presences. About twelve suspensions in the span of three years and a rescinded expulsion when you were about fourteen. A couple run-ins with the police in regards to charges of theft and property destruction.” Her face scrunched in an adorable pout at that as if it were a reminder of an embarrassing moment and not outlines of criminal offenses.

“Definitely not my finer moments, I assure, but keep going. You’re doing so well,” she interrupted him. She had shifted so that she could jump over the counter and sit atop it, her legs crossed and her arms bearing her weight behind her. Red Robin was temporarily silenced by the arch in her back and the lean lines of her exposed neck. He rose to his full height; just barely reaching her shoulder, due to her new vantage point.

“You disappeared after your high school graduation, my investigation says you ran off to Shanghai but I believe there’s more to it than that.” She had uncrossed her legs to accommodate him between them and drew him closer by his shoulders. Acting on instinct, his arms found purchase on her waist and he was brushing the pad of his gloved thumb across the exposed skin. It was uncharacteristically soft but neither heeded mind to it.

“You think there’s more to me than that?” She leans in, almost breathing the same air as him. “You’d be the first,” she continued while snaking a hand up his neck to scratch lightly at his scalp. The touch sent shivers down his spine and had his toes curling in anticipation.

“So tell me then,” he licked his lips and stared at her through the film of his mask. “What is Paris’s Lady Luck doing here causing mischief in Gotham?” The question was a gamble and could upset the rapport he had with Karma. He was the team’s only lead on her, for better or worse, and he didn’t want to ruin whatever it was between them.

It was probably the right thing to say though, because she hasn’t left him yet but instead was staring at him with something indescribable in her eyes. Excitement? Approval? Affection? Red Robin wasn’t sure what to make of the glimmer of emotion in her eyes other than to take it as a good sign.

“You got this far in your investigation, Tweety Bird,” she leaned in closer, just a hair’s width away. “Why ruin the chase and tell you everything now?” Her lips were brushing against his as she spoke and the cherry flavour was almost distracting. His tongue peaked out to swipe a stronger taste. The arms around her waist tightened and he pulled her to the edge of the counter, her legs wrapping around him on instinct.

“Surely you could reward me for figuring out this much, right?” His voice was pitched so low if she wasn’t already breathing in his words he would have worried that she didn’t hear him. “After all, it’s not everyday someone discovers the identity of the allusive Ladybug.”

“The bird wants a reward, does he?” She finally sealed his lips with hers, stealing any half-baked retort he might have had. This kiss was different from the multitude they’ve exchanged in their times together, carrying over the unanswered emotions from their last encounter and introducing new ones into the mix. The air felt still and cool on his face and the fingers in his hair tightened even further.

They were like that for what felt like hours but was merely a few minutes; just calmly exchanging kisses, nothing straying beyond that silently defined line. They didn’t need anymore for tonight. Karma had taken to progress this further by trailing her lips to the sharp cut of his jaw. She alternated between small kisses and even smaller bites as she made her way up to his ear. Her breath was warm against the shell of his ear and he leaned into the faint contact. A lick and a bite later, her lips were curled up into a smirk as her hand in his hair held him in place.

They stayed like that for moments lost to time. Neither making the next move, nerves buzzing with anticipation. He felt an itch for more that only she could scratch and she was denying him that satisfaction. Despite that he made no inclination to instigate more, letting the ball stay in her court. After more silent minutes he felt rather than heard her chuckle against his ear. She jumped off the counter, pressing every curve of her body against his. Even then, he unconsciously tried to pull her closer, pressing her against his front and the tempered glass of the counter. Before he could do as he pleased with his new leverage, she wiggled out of his grasp and moved towards the broken storefront window, mask in hand.

“It was great to see you tonight,” she throws a glance over her shoulder, readjusting the mask over the lower half of her face. “And I’m glad my assumptions of you were right.”

“What assumptions? What do you mean?” The confusion was almost palpable beneath the traces of cherries. He moved to reach for her, to keep her here for a bit longer. To explain herself. To not leave him. She evaded his grasp and leapt out the broken window. From outside the building she turned to him and aimed what was clearly Red Robin’s grappling hook out to the nearest building.

Instead of answering him she chuckled and tilted her head in amusement at his growing distress.

“See you around, Tim.” Her parting words were lost to the air as she shot off with the grapple into the night. Red Robin stood frozen, rooted in place at the use of his civilian name. How did she know? Who exactly did he decide to get entangled with? Among the cacophony of new questions one thing was for certain.

He was utterly fucked.

#maribat #timari #timinette #ml x dc #this is tame to others in this little mini series #tumblr dont fucking try me #surprisingly NOT hornknee hours #i know i surprised myself with this one too

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cheri-translates · 4 years ago

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[CN] Gavin’s Sky Date - Prologue

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date prologue, 云霄之约, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Do note that you have to read this before embarking on the actual date, because it contains background information and sweet domestic bliss you wouldn't want to miss :>

[ This date was released on 14 April 2021 ]

[ Part One: A Dream About to Take Flight ]

MC: Ahhh! My life is up to me. Not. Up. To. Fate!

The small dice in my furled hand is tossed around several times. When I loosen my grip, it rolls quickly on the map -- ‘2′.

Gavin: Hahaha--

Gavin laughs, but hurriedly retracts his smile when he senses my murderous gaze.

Gavin: It’s okay, things will definitely take a favourable turn in the next round.

Sulky, I let out of a huff. I watch as he picks up the dice, casually rolling a '5′. Then, he cheerfully shifts his own plane on the map by six spaces.

[Note] In the game of Aeroplane Chess, your plane can only leave the starting point if you roll a ‘5′ of ‘6′!

MC: ...

It’s a Saturday afternoon. Gavin and I had nothing to do after eating, so we randomly grabbed a set of Aeroplane Chess from the supermarket to play. But I didn’t expect to have such a terrible gaming experience!

Although it’s been the sixth or seventh round, I just can’t the ‘6′ I need to get my plane out of the hangar. On the other hand, Gavin has always been able to get it to take flight smoothly, and very quickly reaches the goal.

MC: Gavin, with your kind of luck, there’s no need to waste it on playing games with me.

After pondering for a long while, I offer him a serious suggestion.

MC: Let’s head out to buy a lottery ticket?

Gavin: Why don’t we play something else? The paper model from last time was only half done. Since we have time today, we could get it done at one go.

At this moment, the phone on the floor beside me rings. Seeing the familiar number, I tap on the hands-free function.

Nurse: Miss MC, the physical report done at our hospital is ready. Please bring your receipt and collect it within fifteen working days.

MC: Mm, got it, thank you.

Gavin is currently storing the Aeroplane Chess pieces into the box. Hearing this conversation, he gives me a puzzled look.

Gavin: Haven’t you already gone for a physical examination this year? Are you feeling unwell?

MC: No, no. I’m using the report for the registration.

I deliberately pretend to be secretive, leaning towards him. Then, I show him the registration form that I had submitted online beforehand.

MC: I’m going to get a Private Pilot License.

[ Part Two: First Day of School ]

On the first day of aviation training, I set the alarm to wake me up at 6.30am. Even Gavin is stunned at the level of enthusiasm I have for learning.

Gavin: The courses for the aviation license can get pretty dry. You have to be mentally prepared.

MC: Are you referring to things like meteorology, aircraft structure, air traffic regulations?

Gavin: Mm. Aside from the exams, such knowledge is necessary for aircraft pilots.

While he speaks, he lifts his head to give me a smile.

Gavin: But they definitely won’t stump you.

After packing my things, I grab a random jacket and prepare to leave.

The classes take place in the suburbs, and it takes an hour to get there. Despite waking up early, I’d be late if I don’t hurry up.

But Gavin is clearly not too worried about this matter. He holds a slice of bread in his mouth while looking at his phone.

Gavin: Since I’m sending you there, you won’t be late. Before your first official lesson, I’ll give you a flight class.

I walk over to him, pulling up the zipper of his uniform, and also picking up the motorcycle helmet from the table.

MC: To prevent this from being a mere flash in the pan, I want to leave the joy of flight to the end of the course. But if going by land would make me late...

Gavin rolls the bread into his mouth, taking the helmet from my hand.

Gavin: No matter the route, you won’t be late. Oh yes, what class are you taking today?

[ Part Two, Option 1: Principles of Meteorology ]

Instructor: I’ll ask some small questions to test your foundation and see if you take note of knowledge in this area.

He opens the PowerPoint presentation, then uses a laser pointer to point at the image on the first page - it's a cumulus cloud with a flat bottom layer and a high, upward curve at the top.

Instructor: Does anyone know what this cloud is called?

MC: Cumulus congestus cloud.

Instructor: Correct. The next question - when the International Civil Aviation Organisation observes cloud volume, how many segments do they divide the sky into?

MC: It should be eight segments.

I recall that Gavin brought this up before.

Instructor: Not bad, miss. You did preparatory work beforehand, didn’t you?

MC: No no, I have a friend who has a better understanding in this area, so I was just influenced.

After saying this, chuckles drift from the surroundings. The instructor nods in understanding.

Instructor: In that case, you won’t have a problem during the exams.

MC: ...I’ll do my best.

After all, my confidence is limited when it comes to exams.

Just as I’m thinking about this, I receive a notification on my phone. Gavin has sent me an incredibly large document file.

Gavin: I don’t know how to teach, so I compiled some materials you might need for the exam.

I grip my phone, suddenly feeling like the weather is so good that it makes one carefree and relaxed.

It’s just an exam. I’ll definitely be fine.

[ Part Two, Option 2: Aviation Regulations Class ]

At 2pm in the afternoon, the sun shines from above. I had a full meal, so fighting against the sleeping bug is a difficult challenge.

Instructor: Before the flight, the captain has to carry out the necessary inspections of the aircraft. Until the inspections are complete, you can’t take off. This regulation is easy to understand. In fact...

When the dullness of the course matches how fine the weather is, the entire classroom gets immersed in a drowsy atmosphere.

I take a few deep breaths and pat my face... but I still feel like sleeping.

Instructor: Okay, we’ll take a 10 minute break. You students look sleepy, so go wash your faces to freshen up.

The moment he finishes speaking, the sound of heads plopping down on the tables can be heard all around.

Just as I prepare to stand up and stretch, my phone suddenly vibrates.

Delivery boy: Hello, I’ve placed your take-out at the main counter.

MC: Take-out?

But I didn’t order take-out...

While I’m puzzled, the young lady from the main counter very politely brings the item to the classroom - it’s a cup of coffee.

There’s only one simple line on the note of the take-out: Persevere for a little longer. Gavin.

I retrieve the coffee from the bag, taking a tiny slip. The instructor walks past, giving me a glance from the side.

Instructor: Are you drinking coffee or milk tea? You’re smiling so happily.

MC: Being able to swim in the ocean of knowledge is always meant to be a happy thing.

The instructor gives me an expression which says, “like I’d actually believe you”.

MC: Instructor, let’s continue with the lesson. I’m not drowsy anymore. Learning for another four hours is no problem at all!

[ Part Three: Being Your Co-pilot ]

Gavin: Do you want to head out for a stroll after dinner? It seems to be really cooling outside.

I’m currently taking out plates from the kitchen drawer, subconsciously craning my head to glance outside.

MC: It’s going to rain, isn’t it...

Gavin: Really? I’ll check the weather forecast. Earlier in the afternoon, Eli mentioned taking out some time to wash his car at night. I even thought today would be a good day.

I step into the living room, setting down plates on the dining table.

MC: There are just some cumulonimbus clouds in the sky. It might not really rain.

Gavin scrolls through the real-time weather, then gives me a smile.

Gavin: It’s really going to rain.

He gets up, opening the rice cooker and scooping a full bowl of rice for me.

Gavin: At first, I even thought you’d find such theoretical knowledge boring. I didn’t think you’d learn them so earnestly. Looks like you really want to get the license.

MC: Of course. I want to be your co-pilot.

Although Gavin hasn’t even scooped rice for himself, he’s already served me a huge pile of vegetables.

Gavin: Sure. I’ll wait for the day you get your license.

Just as I’m about to talk about how assured I am about getting the license, I realise that the plate on my hand is becoming fuller and fuller.

Before I can even voice my question, Gavin responds.

Gavin: Learning is tough. You need to eat a little more. I also bought you ice-cream. It’s in the second compartment of the freezer. I remember you mentioning that as long as you eat something delicious during difficult times, you can press on easily.

MC: ...hahaha! Mm! After having this meal, I’ll complete all my post-class homework!

[ Aviation Terminology Class ]

MC: Calling for the control tower. Number N8596 has arrived, and is requesting for a landing gate.

Gavin (through the phone): Number N8596, you may use aircraft Gate Number One.

Gavin’s light-hearted laughter drifts from the phone.

Gavin: Shouldn’t your class end at 7pm? It’s only 6pm.

MC: The plan was to be dismissed at 7pm, but... for some reason, those in my class were really interested in the Aviation Terminology class, so they did their preparatory work in advance. The three hour class was over in one and a half hours. The instructor said that we already grasped all the key points, so we were dismissed early. What about you? How much longer till you’re off work?

Gavin: For me... less than half an hour. You could think about what to do with this unexpectedly free hour. I remember that there’s a new dessert shop opposite the cinema.

MC: You remembered? I never even told you about it. How could you remember? Officer Gavin, you better tell me the truth. You didn’t remember it - you specially searched it up.

Gavin: Mm, I specially searched it up. I even found that there are claw machines along the shopping street on the ground level of the cinema.

MC: Looks like what I’m going to do in the next hour has already been scheduled.

Gavin: Wait for me at the office first. I’ll look for you once I’m done with the work on hand.

[ Part Four: Flight Practice ]

Today’s the first flight practice class. The instructor is sitting in the co-pilot seat, watching my every move throughout the entire journey.

I wasn't nervous at first, but each time he glances at me, I involuntary wonder if I’ve done something wrong.

In an instant, I recall the fear of taking the aviation exam...

Until the plane successfully takes flight, I keep feeling as though the thing suspending in the air isn’t the plane, but my heart.

Instructor: It’s rare for you to make a trip up here. What’s there to be nervous about? Come, lift your head and look at the sky.

At this moment, countless gripes flash across my mind: What’s so nice about the sky? I’ve seen all kinds of skies. Right now, all I want is to fly the plane...

But the moment I lift my head, I’m rendered speechless.

Instructor: How is it? The first time I saw it, I was so stunned that I couldn't speak either.

MC: It’s really beautiful.

Sunlight casts a layer of golden hue on the soft and white clouds, blending the colours of gold and crimson.

I’m unable to describe how the scenery before me makes me feel.

It’s a feeling which... makes one feel that life has meaning.

All of a sudden, another thought surfaces in my mind: I wonder what went through Gavin’s mind when he saw such a sight for the first time.

The instructor sitting next to me glances at me from the side.

Instructor: Thinking about your boyfriend again?

MC: [blushing] ...no!

Instructor: It’s normal. Each time I’m flying, I can’t help but think of my wife. There isn’t a reason to it. It’s just a sudden thought, an involuntary reaction.

The instructor laughs as he gives me advice with a contagious smile.

Instructor: If you’re thinking about him, just do it. It’s fine. It’s a normal thing. When you see certain things, your natural reaction is to think of someone.

MC: ...Instructor, I usually can’t tell, but you’re actually quite philosophical.

I grab the joystick of the plane, watching as countless clouds drift past leisurely.

All I want to do is take a photograph of this moment for Gavin.

Date: here

Gavin watching as I drool over the thought of Eli scrubbing his car in the rain while wearing a singlet:

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc gavin #summary of the prologue: gavin is the perfect boyfriend

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junicai · 4 years ago

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frozen hearts.

| summary | Aria and Yuta bonding, feat. some less than pleasant discoveries.

| word count | 2.5k

| warnings | bad parenting (?), neglect

| era | circa. 2014 through 2017

Underneath a frozen river, the water will keep running in a steady flow. It doesn’t care for the layer of ice blocking it out from the world; it has a sole purpose. To continue flowing, to continue rushing down the side of the slight hill. Rivers don’t stop for a cold snap.

Similarly, frozen hearts still beat despite their layer of black ice covering the outer shell. They are hard, and cold to the touch - almost unbearable to carry for any length of time - but they have warm blood rushing through them regardless.

The thing is, about frozen hearts, is one cannot be born cold.

Each life begins flooded with light and love and happiness and warmth; it fills up each corner of your vision and everything is bright, bright, bright.

Like a pot slowly brought to the boil, or the temperature slowly dropped degree by degree - you’ll freeze without even knowing it.

Aria likes to believe that’s what happened, at least. She can’t resent them, not as much as her head begs her too, for her heart pounds against her chest screaming no.

Too many fond memories filed away to be taken out and gazed upon with a bittersweet smile curling her lips makes for an impossible task when asked to burn the bridge connecting them.

Part of her was reluctant to let go, because she still needed them, still wanted their care and their comfort like she had once received in mountains. Like a drug, it had been snatched away from her without warning, and now she was an addict weaning herself off of it, trying to ignore the pang in her chest.

The other part, was scared. Terrified even. Scared that should she burn the bridge, should she cut the final chord, that they wouldn’t even feel it at all.

Call her cruel, but Aria wanted them to feel the pain she did when the bonds were snapped.

But how can a frozen heart burn?

A new perspective.

A new perspective can change the world, said her mother.

A new perspective is all that you need to change a catastrophe into something else entirely. Aria wasn’t sure if it was her that she was talking to, or if she was trying to convince herself.

Packed onto a plane with her abhorrently bright suitcase and a handful of folded papers to he name, Aria was given a pat on the back by her father, and a one-armed hug by her mother.

“You behave now, you hear me? Make your parents proud of you.” Her mother stood up straighter, brushing the non-existent dust from Aria’s shoulders.

Aria nodded, letting her parents take a final once over before she was packed onto a plane, with a red sticker slapped onto her suitcase.

Unaccompanied Minor.

It felt like a tag, and Aria could feel the eyes following her around the airport as she just barely managed to navigate her way to her gate and onto the plane.

At the gate, she fumbled with the folded papers in her small hands, and yelped when two of them slid out onto the ground and fluttered open.

Tucked inside one paper slip was her airplane ticket, the words INCHEON, SOUTH KOREA printed in bold across the top.

The airport hostess smiled kindly at the young girl, crouching down beside her to help collect the scattered things.

“And where would you be off to? Are you meeting your parents?” She asked, smoothing out the creases in her skirt as she scanned Aria’s ticket through and the light flickered green momentarily.

Aria shook her head. Her parents lived in Dublin.

“Aria, don’t be ridiculous. You have a full career ahead of you where you are right now, why would you throw all that away for a silly little dream?” Her mother sighed lightly.

“You’d never make it as a singer - I just don’t think you have it in you, darling.” She shuffled closer to Aria, tucking the girl under her arm. “Let’s stop daydreaming, hm? You have an early practice tomorrow, you need to get some proper sleep before that.”

Moving past the questioning woman, Aria took back her ticket from the extended hand. “I’m going to become a singer.”

Aria knew she was small.

She was an inch short of average height, and normally it wouldn’t bother her but when surrounded by a group of boys all going through the various stages of puberty at once, it became glaringly obvious that she was, in fact, quite short.

Kicking her toe at the floor of the practice room, she scoffed slightly. Stupid teenage boys and their stupid growth spurts and their stupid long legs and their stupid voice cracks.

They’d recorded the same segment of the song four times, because one of the trainees kept shattering his voice box anytime he went above a middle C.

Now, nearing ten minutes to twelve, the others had packed themselves away and left with a goodbye called over their shoulder - leaving Aria to pace the spring boarded floor mindlessly.

“Akari?”

Aria jolted slightly, whipping around to face the doorway from which a boy was hanging from.

“Yuta-san! Oh, hello!” Aria bowed a little shakily, startled from her own thoughts.

Yuta moved through the doorway into the practice room. He scanned around, frowning when he only saw Aria alone in the room. “Are you here alone?”

Aria nodded. “The others, they wanted to go home but I needed to stay so I told them it was okay.”

“The others?”

“My team,” She explained. “I’m training with the boys right now, and we’re meant to be putting together a piece for the evaluation next month.”

He stepped forward. “You’re training with, Hyunjae’s group? Why?”

Aria shrugged. “I don’t know either. They just told me to come here now instead of the other practice room, so I did.”

Yuta still looked confused, but Aria spun the topic of conversation around before he had the chance to ask another question. “It’s late, Yuta-san, shouldn’t you be at home?”

He blinked once, shaking his head lightly and looking back at Aria. “I could ask you the same thing. It’s dark outside, I’ll walk you back.”

“Oh no it’s okay!” She rushed to protest. “I used to walk home at night a lot, I’m okay with the dark now.”

Yuta bit the inside of his cheek with how fast he turned. “They leave you here alone a lot?” His face had taken on an incredulous look, and his eyes had a dark tinge.

“No no, that’s not what I meant,” Aria waved her hands about. God this was a mess. “Back home, I used to walk home after training. So I’m careful but the dark doesn’t scare me.” She emphasized home, not wanting an angry Yuta to come after Hyunjae in the morning.

It really was okay...

“Well the thought of you alone in the dark scares me.” Yuta said with finality, walking to the wall and picking up Aria’s jacket from the ground. “C’mon, it’s not getting any brighter.”

“You know, you said something. Years ago, and I’ve always meant to ask you what you meant but I never got the chance to.”

Aria flipped over on the bed, lying on her stomach with one eye open as she peered over at Yuta. The laptop with a film paused was perched precariously on the edge of the bed, and was beginning to slide off the duvet just as he went to grab it.

His fingers curled around the screen right before it fell off entirely, saving it from a broken spine.

Aria giggled. “Nice save.”

Yuta smiled, and pushed the now closed laptop towards the head of the bed where it would be out of harms way. Hopefully.

Not willing to drop the topic just yet, he sat up and put his hands on his knees. “You said something about walking home, that you were used to doing it in the dark.”

Aria hummed, half asleep with the warmth of the room. She’d wrapped herself in a blanket earlier on and it had kept her toasty - but now the warm air was slowly making her drowsy. “My parents didn’t really have time, so I just. Walked.”

“Your parents didn’t have time?”

“To collect me. From the ice rink, I mean.”

Yuta’s lips parted, but the words died on his tongue. His head tilted in confusion. “How old were you?”

“Mm, ten?”

“Ten?!”

Aria giggled, swatting at him and missing by a mile. “Don’t say it like that, it was fine! It was a ten minute walk, I wasn’t going to die.”

Yuta’s eyebrows were nearly touching at this point. “Your parents, made a ten year old girl walk home in the dark, what, twice a week?”

“Three times. I had morning practice three times a week, and evening practice three times a week.”

“You were ten?”

“Mhm.”

Yuta sat back. “What, were you training for the Olympics or something?” He joked, a half smile finding it’s way onto his lips.

“Mhm.”

The smile fell. “What?”

“That’s what my father told me. H’said, I was going to the Olympics to make them proud.”

“That’s, nice I guess-”

“To repay what they gave me.” She finished.

Yuta’s relaxed demeanor had disappeared entirely, and now he was staring in shock and slight trepidation at the sleepy girl lying on his bed. She had moved closer in the duration of their conversation, and was close to having her head pillowed in his lap.

“What did you say, Akari?” His voice was soft, hiding a more concerned undertone.

Aria whined, shaking her head. “No, don’t wanna talk about this. M’tired, m’going to sleep.”

“Akari no, two more minutes.”

“Goodnight.”

“Akari,” Yuta patted her arm, pulling her up gently. “Two more minutes, then I promise you can go to sleep.”

She groaned, turning to plant her fact in the blanket beneath her. “What, what is it?”

“Do you -” Yuta started then stopped. “Did you like ice skating?”

“I was good at it.”

“That’s not what I was asking.”

Aria rolled over, throwing an arm over face as she eyed Yuta suspiciously. “Okay, you’re acting weird. Stop acting weird.”

“I’m not acting weird!” He protested.

“Yes you are! You’re making me feel like I’ve done something wrong, stop it.”

Yuta sighed, moving to lay beside her and wrapping an arm around her waist. “Okay, I’m sorry. You haven’t done something wrong, don’t worry.”

“Then what’s with the bloody interrogation?” Aria’s voice was ladened with sleepy frustration.

“I just...”

“You just...”

Yuta pinched her arm. “Don’t mock me.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you could string a sentence together.”

Yuta let his thoughts gather, collecting them together.

It wasn’t weird, was it? A lot of kids felt a responsibility towards their parents, wanted to repay them for taking care of them, that wasn’t unusual. But on the other hand, it was normally the child who decided to take on that burden, they were rarely instructed to do so by their parents themselves.

Come to think of it, he doesn’t remember a single time where Aria has mentioned her parents; not at holidays, not during promotions. He doesn’t remember her ever stepping out to take a call from them.

Had Aria spoken about her parents at all? It wasn’t a thing he would have otherwise taken notice of, but suddenly Yuta was wracking his memory, trying to find a single time where Aria had mentioned her parents, spoken about them.

Yuta didn’t know why he was so worried about this. If there was a problem, surely she would have come to him? Come to someone?

Regardless of the logic telling him that, yes, everything was okay, there was a sinking feeling settling in the bottom of his stomach.

When asked about her family, Aria had always said NCT. Said that, NCT was her family; her home.

“Akari, when was the last time you spoke to your parents?”

Aria rolled her neck to ease the growing crick. She was still burrowed beneath the blanket, and Yuta’s hug was only pushing her deeper into a comforting sleep. “Last month, why?”

“What did you talk about?” He pressed.

“There was a problem with my VISA. Some of the adoption papers got mixed up or the name change wasn’t filed right or something.” Aria mumbled the words into the duvet. “Can I go to sleep now?”

Yuta didn’t respond.

“Yuta?”

Aria lifted her head, blinking blearily at the older boy. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

Yuta was not going to be sick. It was just a lot to process. Yeah.

“You’re adopted?”

“You didn’t know?”

He spluttered lightly, “You never told me!”

“It’s not exactly a secret! Any article written about me has something about my adoptive parents written in there. ‘The heroic couple who gave a young girl a fighting chance~’” Aria snorted through her nose.

Yuta’s head was reeling. Aria was adopted. That was fine. Nothing wrong there.

But something still wasn’t sitting right with him.

“Is that what you ‘owe them’? The fact that they adopted you?”

“The orphanage I was in was being closed down - I think I was going to be moved to a group home, but the week before it shut, my parents adopted me. It seems fair that I’d owe them something for that, right?”

“No?” Yuta let out a winded chuckle, eyes wide. “Akari that’s not, how adoption works?”

“Sure it is. And anyway, I was good at ice skating. It’s not a big deal.” Aria rolled over back to her stomach with finality, clearly trying to signify an end to the conversation.

Yuta wasn’t done. He had finalized on what it was that wasn’t sitting right.

“You speak Japanese. I thought you - did your parents speak Japanese?”

Aria hummed. “No, I took lessons. They said it was good for the media - it changed their perception of me, I think. Made me more appealing.” The words were mechanical, and not her own.

“What does that even mean?!” Yuta’s voice was raised now, the boy sitting up.

It was like Aria was being treated like a show horse, trained in a few tricks and then sold on. What kind of people -

“Yuta, please.” Aria’s voice was soft, and her eyes were barely open. “Please, I just want to go to sleep. M’tired, you can ask me about this tomorrow, okay?”

He sat back, mollified. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry. You want to stay here, or?”

Aria snuggled deeper into the covers in lieu of an answer.

Yuta ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Okay, that’s. That’s fine. Goodnight, Akari.”

Aria’s phone lit up from where the girl had tossed it earlier, making a small ping. He looked over momentarily, catching the two small notifications before the screen faded to black again.

Mother [1:48] The transaction should have gone through. Make sure to approve it quickly, we don’t want to be waiting like we were last month.

[Bank of Korea] $850 has been withdrawn from your account by your contact “Mother”. Would you like to approve this transaction?

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ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 5 years ago

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The Sight of You (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: Spencer’s disturbing dreams about his childhood bring him back to Las Vegas to face two of his childhood’s greatest enemies: his estranged father and his ex best friend.

AN: it’s a friends to enemies to lovers fic! Set in the episode “Memoriam” 4x07

Content Warnings: usual Criminal Minds stuff, mentions of child death, childhood trauma, descriptions of a dead body. Let me know if I missed anything!

Despite seeing Spencer around Pre-k, Y/N did not trot over to talk to him with their brightly coloured rucksack swinging vigorously and violently behind them. They walked faster instead once their parents had dropped them off. Spencer did his best to catch up to Y/N but lost them around the corner in the sea of students seeking their next class. He was meant to be one of them. Adjusting his glasses as they slipped down his nose, Spencer noted that he needed a new prescription before entering his own class and preparing to focus on a subject he was already well-versed in.

It was lunch time when Spencer finally found Y/N. They were sitting at the furthest end of the table in the canteen. But Y/N cowered away from him, his shoulders drawn up defensively.

“Are you OK, Y/N?” Spencer asked before getting to what was more significant to him: “Do you know when you will be free to play again?”

The next sentence out of Y/N’s mouth stung like a nettle. They stood up, their face contorted in their fit, and they pushed Spencer hard on the shoulders.

“Go away! I can’t look at you! You make me feel sick, you and your family!” They cried.

They went silent when Spencer was laughed at by those who heard what was said. Just grabbed their lunch and moved away, leaving Spencer spellbound in the middle of the canteen, heartbroken and with a new opening for a potential chess partner. Maybe that man they saw last week at the park would be kind enough to join him again.

But there was no replacement for Y/N, who now never said a word when they caught a glimpse of Spencer being bullied – only dithering about on the spot before fleeing the scene moments before a teacher would show up.

Spencer was hurt; that hurt warped into hatred when he was next out with his mother and father. They were at the shopping mall and had just bought Spencer his new glasses. Going down the escalator, he saw Y/N. They were smiling and skipping between their parents, a new pair of shoes shiny on their feet.

The second they spotted the Reids, Y/N ducked behind their parents. Spencer could still see their face: brow furrowed, eyes squinting, hands shaking now that nothing was holding them. Their parents didn’t seem to notice. They kept talking and walking even as Y/N stopped in time with the Reids stepping off the escalator.

Sudden footsteps running away was what dragged the public’s attention to a suddenly absent child.

“Y/N!” The parents called out as they chased after the four-year-old. They were quick past the Reids, not stopping to say ‘hello’.

Spencer kept his eyes trained after Y/N’s fleeing form, right until his mother’s face came into view. Diana looked saddened; she too was staring after the L/Ns. Turned to his father. William was composed but his eyes were turned down and watering.

For making his parents react like that to their mere presence, Spencer despised Y/N.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

The burning hatred from adolescence staled once Spencer reached adulthood. The protective nature that spawned from it for his mother remained.

Which is why, when Diana Reid casually mentioned Y/N when asked about Riley Jenkins, Spencer froze up.

“You remember Y/N?” He said stiffly.

Diana didn’t notice her son’s change in tone, “Of course, you two were opposites but you got on so well. So sad what happened to them.”

The first guess was that she was referring Y/N’s repeated attempts at running away before Reid cut contact with neighbourhood gossip at age fourteen. He didn’t bother with a second attempt to understand what his mother meant.

“I don’t care about Y/N. I want to know if you remember Riley.”

“And I told you: Riley was a boy you made up.”

“No, Mom, he was a real boy who lived in our neighbourhood, and somebody killed him. And, I don't know, I think-- I think that dad might have had something to do with it.”

“He was real?”

“Yes. And...”

“He was on that little league team, too.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

The whole case was surreal - “case” being a very loose term.

When they got into his office, Spencer thought that perhaps things might simmer down a little. Unfortunately, as soon as his father spoke about their history of similarity in appearance, Spencer’s usual comfort of statistics and facts on the elderly and pets failed to conceal his abandonment issues.

William Reid was clearly affected by Spencer’s accusations, calling the idea of fitting the profile thus being Riley’s killer “absurd”. Furthermore, he was confrontational when asked for access to his files and demanded a warrant. Coupled with Lou Jenkins’ absolute certainty that William was not involved in Riley’s murder and Penelope asking him “you sure about this?” concerning invading the aforementioned files, Spencer was very close to snapping.

“I really wish people would stop asking me that.”

Then there was the envelope posted beneath his motel room door. Suspicious timing aside, there was a brand-new suspect basically handed over on a silver platter. One Gary Michaels whom Spencer couldn’t remember him but he couldn’t be sure that he didn’t know him. Uncertainty being the feeling he hated the most.

This man could fit the profile; his previous of exposing himself to a minor was a precursor to molestation. But that wasn’t what Spencer wanted to hear from the shady file slipped to direct his attention away from William.

Garcia reported back about his father’s drives, “No kiddie porn, no membership to illicit websites, no dubious emails, no chat room history.”

“What about his finances?”

Hotch joined the conversation, “We went back ten years. No questionable transactions that we can find.”

Spencer sighed while Emily decided to crack a joke: “Well, he did buy a ticket to see Celine Dion six months ago, but I think we can overlook that.”

“He’s smart. Is it possible he kept things under the table?” Spencer persisted.

“Well, of course,” Hotch answered, “But from what we can tell, Reid, he doesn’t fit the profile.”

“We can tell you other things about him, if you want to know.”

A peace offering on behalf of Emily. Clearly she had improved after her night out and subsequent hangover. Spencer gave the go-ahead and Emily listed her profile:

“He's a workaholic, he actually logs more hours than we do. He makes decent money, but he doesn't spend a lot of it. He has a modest house. He drives a hybrid. He doesn't travel much. He stays away from the casinos. Um, and according to his veterinary bills, he has a very sick cat.”

“He appears to spend most of his free time alone,” Hotch added, “He goes to the movies a lot, and he reads. And from his collection of first editions, it seems his favourite author is-”

Spencer interrupted his boss, “Isaac Asimov, I remember that one.” He pressed his lips together. They were right; William Reid did not fit the profile.

Garcia piped up once more, “He does have one other major interest. On his home computer, he's archived, like, a ka-jillion things on one common subject.”

“What?”

“You, kiddo. He's got, like, everything that's been published online. Every article you've been quoted in, pieces you've written for behavioural science journals, He even has a copy of your dissertation.”

“He's keeping tabs on you,” Rossi said, That's saying something.”

But Spencer smoothly dismissed this attempt to make excuses for his father, “Yeah, he googled me. That makes up for everything. I'm going to get some air.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

After getting said air, Spencer went to the local bar and began playing an computerised poker game. His paying attention was only to distract himself, clear his head with something he knew he could control. And thankfully, a chance interaction with a lady at the bar spawned the inspiration for a sporadic hypnosis session.

Doctor Jan Mohikian allowed them a session. Reminded of the limitations that a four-year old’s memory could provide, not including the bias he already had as a son and a profiler, Spencer lay on the couch. His feet hung over the end so that his head could be comfortable in a pillow. There was no time for self-consciousness with Rossi in the room observing. He closed his eyes and felt his hand be placed upon Doctor Mohikian’s body.

She spoke low and calmingly, “I want you to hold my wrist in your left hand. And if you should feel any fear, I want you to squeeze, do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Go back to the night you were just telling me about. You're at home, in your room. You can't sleep because your parents are arguing.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

His eyes were closed still, but the couch shifted into a bed. His bed. A floor below, the faint shouting between his mother and father was heard. There was someone else there too. A child wailing, and it wasn’t him.

Suddenly his father was at his side, touching his arm, saying, “I know you’re awake. Daddy loves you; you know that?”

Spencer didn’t want to be there, and then it was the following morning.

Putting his glasses, the room fell into focus. His mother was there, she didn’t see him because she was too busy looking out the window. Her body language told him that this was not a meltdown, but what she saw was distressing. She’d been crying. As she walked away into the house, she hid her face as if she knew Spencer was watching and she wanted to hide her reaction from him.

Spencer ran to the window the second Diana had left the room.

His father was in the back garden and burning clothes. A bloody shirt, a tiny cardigan, landed on top of the pile already set alight.

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1, and wake.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

And Spencer was shocked out of the scene, back to the doctor’s couch and gripping her wrist with an iron grip. Rossi was by his side, bringing him back to peace with his voice.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Derek was clearly disturbed that Spencer was very set on his father being a paedophilic murderer as much as he had been that Spencer was taking something that was said after his mother’s fit seriously. He continued however to assist with Rossi in Spencer’s investigation.

As if everything else hadn’t been hard enough, the captain took some time to agree to holding William Reid in custody. Finally, he settled for twenty-four hours. William was as resistant to the questions as he had been upon the initial reunion. All he could say was that he didn’t hurt Riley. Spencer wore him down, getting him to drop the Gary Michaels bomb plus the threat that he “didn’t want to go down that road”.

Garcia’s search of Gary Michaels’ DNA on the databases brought to light that their suspect was dead. Buried across state lines, beat over the head with a pipe or bat, and the body was discovered in 2001.

“Maybe it wasn’t Riley’s blood on the clothes he was burning.” Derek was about to hang up when Garcia began to speak again, a new discovery ready for her team.

“Also, Todd found something in your father’s finances. There was a standing order for a therapist, specifically a child therapist from 1985 to 1995. I thought it was for Spencer, but William left when you were twelve, and these sessions continue irregularly after he left you!”

“Who was the patient?”

“One Y/N L/N. Local to North Vegas, born 1980 to Shelly and Finley L/N.”

Both Rossi and Derek looked away from the phone to Spencer and he knew. He knew he’d have to face another villain from the past – like a knight in one of Y/N’s stories.

“Still alive?”

“Yep, already pulling up an address. There’s a lot of short leases attached to this name. Lucky for you, they keep going back to live with their parents.”

Spencer wasn’t entirely sure that he could handle two bitter reunions in one day.

“We’ll send off the fingerprint while we visit Y/N. They could have been a potential victim of Michaels before he died. They might know something.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

It was a normal home in a normal neighbourhood. Spencer had never visited Y/N’s house. Their play-dates were always at the park.

“Hello, Mr L/N,” held up their badges, “I’m Agent Derek Morgan, this is Agent David Rossi and Doctor Spencer Reid. May we come in and ask you some questions?”

“Sure. My wife is uh out at work at the moment,” Finley opened the door wider and stepped aside for the trio to enter, “I’m the house husband as it were.”

Looking about the kitchen, Spencer spied several photos of an adult Y/N but very few of them as a toddler and even less as a teenager.

“You have a child, Mr L/N?” Rossi asked.

“All grown up now, Y/N,” Finley smiled with a nod. Then he squinted at Spencer, “You’re not related to William Reid by chance, are you?”

Masking his bitterness, Spencer said shortly, “He’s my father.”

Finley seemed in awe at the prospect, so Derek redirected the conversation back to the matter at hand, “What was Y/N like as a child?”

Nodding still, like a bobble head, Finley looked weary at the notion, “Troubled. They were very young when they withdrew into themselves. Used to run away from home a lot. I don’t know what happened, but Y/N never told us.” He then jumped to protect his child’s reputation at present, “They’re doing better now, went to therapy and they’re doing very well for themselves.”

“I’m glad to hear.” Rossi replied.

Finley continued his defence of Y/N, “They’re a published author, they write fantasy things for kids and young adults. We’re very proud of them.”

“Did Y/N know Riley Jenkins when they were a child?”

“Riley Jenkins, that’s Lou’s kid who died, right?” Finley sought confirmation and, when he had it, he spoke, “Not personally. I think they might have played at the park once or twice. Before he died, Y/N would play with anyone. But you… you know that.” And Finley gestured to Spencer, much to his disgust.

“Is Y/N in the area?” Spencer asked briskly.

“Well, they’re due for a visit in a few hours. They went on holiday.”

“They still live with you?”

“A month ago, they got a new flat in the city. But they’ve got their own room here, for whenever they need it.”

“May we see it?”

The wallpaper was barely visible beneath exam revision notes, posters of Fresh sheets on the bed and the clear space on the floor were the only tidy things about the place. It was a haven of organised clutter.

A chess set caught Spencer’s eye. It sat upon the windowsill, recently dusted. The pieces were not that of a classic set; each was painted prettily but with enough error to indicate it was a personal touch.

“You and Y/N were close then?” Derek was holding up a photo album. Upon inspection, the photograph the page was open on was of Spencer and Y/N dressed up for Halloween as Doctor Frankenstein and the Monster respectively – accurate to the book of course.

“Yeah, ‘were’,” Spencer turned back to the chess set. He didn’t bother to ask when his friends had figured out he knew Y/N.

Rossi decided to further test the waters, “You think that Y/N could have killed Riley?”

“Of course not. A four-year-old couldn’t kidnap, tie up, rape, and kill a boy their own age. No violent history that indicates they would ever do something like this. Do I think that Y/N knows something about what happened and my father is trying to keep them quiet? Yes.”

Rossi moved beside Spencer, picking up the knight. Except it wasn’t a knight. It was a wizard of some kind in purple robes.

“We’ll stay up here for a bit then go down once Y/N’s inside and settled,” He gestured with the knight to the window. Spencer blanched as he spied a cab at the end of the driveway. The trunk was open and someone was retrieving a suitcase from within.

Y/N appeared around the corner, waving off the cab and turning to the house. Mr L/N appeared on the drive and they met in the middle for a hug. Over Mr L/N’s shoulder, Spencer could see that Y/N had grown into their chubby childhood features. They looked genuinely happy.

He would have to go through with it, but he didn’t have to like it. And he couldn’t go hide in the bathroom like with his father.

The trio plodded down the stairs when the sound of the front door closing was replaced with a joyous gathering in the kitchen. It all changed when Y/N went to take off their jacket and caught sight of the three FBI agents standing in the doorway. Taking out his badge, Rossi led the way.

“Hello, Y/N, I’m Agent David Rossi, this is Agent Derek Morgan, and Doctor Spencer Reid. We’re looking into the death of Riley Jenkins, and we were hoping to ask you some questions.”

To the naked eye, very little changed about Y/N’s appearance. To the three profilers, there was a visceral reaction: Y/N’s right hand started trembling, the hard swallow, the dropping of their gaze from Spencer to the floor.

“OK,” They said, a great deal quieter than they had been with their father.

Rossi sat next to Y/N at the dinner table. Derek was beside Rossi; Spencer stayed standing. Mr L/N stayed in the kitchen, at Y/N’s request.

“Can you tell us what you remember about Riley?” Rossi began.

“Not very much, I don’t really remember much about school.”

“Oh, you don’t?” Spencer blurted, “Well, I do.”

Derek glanced back at him with a look that just screamed “shut the hell up”. It seemed to cut down Y/N’s resolve, their jaw quivering.

“Sorry, can you give me a moment?” They stood up quick, the chair legs scraping loudly against the floor as they walked just as fast to the kitchen. Through the open door, Rossi, Derek, and Spencer watched Y/N grab a glass from the open dishwasher. The water from the tap hit the bottom of the glass harsh, crashing out like a wave of the ocean hitting a cliff. Y/N didn’t seem to care. Their hand dripped water onto the surface as they chugged back some of the drink before returning to the table with a topped-up glass.

“Are you alright?” Rossi inquired, leaning closer to Y/N.

They answered wearily, “Fine, just feeling woozy.”

“You’re a writer?”

“Yeah, you’re a writer too. My mom reads your stuff before bed.”

“Bit of an odd nightcap,” Rossi said with a little chuckle.

Y/N shared that smile for the briefest of moments, replying “You’re telling me.”

From their pocket, they pulled out some painkillers, popping them back with a slug of water then speaking again. “I remember Riley was smaller than me. Still figuring out coordination, but he liked to play chase. I know he was killed; I didn’t find out how until I looked into it last year.”

“Why did you look into it?” Rossi gently probed.

Y/N rubbed two fingers back and forth across their head as they spoke, “I was back here, I felt sick so I went for a walk in the park, and I just remembered him tripping over while trying to tag me. No one ever told me what happened, just that he had to go away. I wanted to know what happened to him.”

“Are you sick often?” Derek asked suddenly, his voice soft to match Rossi. Spencer grimaced at the treatment Y/N was receiving but said nothing.

“Headaches and stomach aches mostly.”

“You get them whenever you come home?”

“I do. Figured I was allergic to something but never figured out what.”

That would have to be a very quick response, like a dog allergy. And coincidental, seeing as the symptoms didn’t start until they saw Spencer.

“Y/N?” called their father, “Can you come here a moment please?”

“May I?”

“Of course,” said Derek and Y/N was out of the room. Derek pivoted in his chair to include Spencer in his theory, “I think they know something, but they don’t know they know it. I think they repressed this memory like you did, Spencer. We should take him to the therapist, see if we can jog his memory.”

“You can’t be serious,” Spencer covered his face with his hands, dragging them down with irritation.

Derek was persistent though, “Spencer, like it or not, Y/N’s linked to this investigation. Put aside your differences for a moment, please.”

Spencer all but squawked, “Put aside my differences?”

“You have brought a lot of bias to this case. Let us at least pursue this lead.”

“Sorry,” Y/N interrupted Spencer’s retort, sitting back at the table, “He needed someone to get unhook the loft door. Mom usually does it.”

“That’s alright.” Rossi waved a hand dismissively. Once Y/N accepted that, he moved in with Derek’s suggestion, “You know, some people have strong physical reactions to memories, trauma. Maybe you’re not getting sick. You’re rejecting something.”

“Rejecting?” repeated Y/N. There was no doubt in their voice, more cautious curiosity.

Derek nodded, “A memory, repressing it, and your body has linked the physical responses to your home. We think it has something to do with this case, and we’d like to see if we can retrieve any memories you might have. Would you be alright to come with us?”

“Yeah,” said Y/N, though they didn’t sound too certain, “Yeah sure.”

The resigned, too tired look on their face, and Spencer felt a tug in his chest. A longing to see Y/N smile like they had when they first entered the house. He’d rather hate someone who was happy than someone who suffered the same as him.

Leaving the house, Spencer took a deep breath of fresh air.

“Spencer?”

He ignored Y/N’s voice for a moment, but he couldn’t disregard Y/N standing in front of him and speaking again, “Spencer, can we talk please?”

“I’m busy,” He said, already walking off as he pretended to call someone, “Hey Garcia.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

“Hold onto my hand, use it as an anchor, and squeeze when you feel fear.” Doctor Mohikian accepted Y/N’s hand on her wrist and their silence nod as they lay back on the same couch Spencer had been just hours before.

“I want you to think back to your childhood, back to when you were five. You’re at the park, your parents are on a bench watching nearby to keep you safe. What do you see?”

“Spencer Reid.”

Derek and Rossi glanced at Spencer, who did not react. They kept quiet so that Y/N could immerse themselves in the hypnosis.

“What’s he doing?” Doctor Mohikian continued.

“Teaching me chess.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Sat on opposite sides of the table, Spencer and Y/N’s eyes were glued to the chess pieces that were neatly organised between them. Spencer was thinking strategy. He could not say the same for his companion Y/N. They reached a hand out and hovered over the pieces before finally selecting their last knight.

Their tongue clicked as Y/N trotted the piece on the spot.

“What’s this one again?”

“The knight,” Spencer recited, “It moves two spaces up, down, left or right, and another step perpendicular to the first direction.”

“Brave creatures riding into battle,” Y/N narrated before continuing their clip-clopping to its new position, “Pawns in the game of war.”

Spencer didn’t understand how they were coming up with this whilst playing. Well, actually, he did. Because Y/N was clearly not playing to win. They were playing for the best possible story.

“Where do you think this story will end?” Y/N asked.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re lying,” said Y/N, pushing back the sleeves of their white cardigan, “Come on, you can tell me, with your magic powers.”

“It’s not magic. It’s logic.”

“That’s magic to me,”

Narrowing his eyes, Spencer decided that he should give his friend the information they sought: “I see checkmate in fifteen moves.”

“See? Magic! The gift of sight!” crowed Y/N, clapping their hands together. The cardigan sleeves fell back in place as they did so. Spencer felt his cheeks heat up; he dropped his head so he could smile in privacy while Y/N began to decide their next move.

“How’s your mommy today?”

Shrugging, Spencer said, “Better than normal. But that means a bad day is around the corner.”

Y/N nodded solemnly. “Do you want another ice cream? I got more birthday money.”

“No thank you.” Spencer moved the piece but was immediately intercepted by Y/N, “You’re getting better.”

“Fank you.”

“You’ll have to wait longer to beat me though.” And he snatched Y/N’s knight away, just as planned and much to Y/N’s dismay.

A new voice from their left spoke, “Hey you’re pretty good.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Y/N’s grip tightened on Doctor Mohikian’s wrist, “Someone’s with us.”

“Who do you see?” Doctor Mohikian asked patiently.

“A man. He’s asking us if he can watch us play, listen to the story.”

“Do you want him to stay?”

“No,” Y/N flinched, “But Spencer keeps talking to him. The man won’t go away.”

“It’s OK, it’s OK, you’re safe, Y/N.”

Y/N flinched again, this time letting out a whimper, “He’s on the floor.”

“Spencer is?”

“No, the man.”

“What’s he doing on the floor?”

“He’s,” Y/N began panting, their face tensing and body jerking, “I can’t get to him. There’s glass in the way and the ground is shaking.”

“Y/N.”

“I can’t look, I’ll be sick! Whenever I see them, sick.”

“OK, you’re going to wake up in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!”

Their eyes snapped open with the click of the fingers and Y/N leapt out of Doctor Mohikian’s couch. Their head aimed over the bin by the door and they retched. Nothing came up but their stomach continued to squeeze up

Spencer fidgeted in his seat, trying his best not to look at Y/N. The choice words of the session, three in particular, wrapped around his head.

“Floor”.

Y/N had seen Gary Michaels inside, somewhere that wasn’t the park.

“Glass”.

A window, Y/N was watching what Gary Michaels was doing.

“Sick”.

“Go away! I can’t look at you! You make me feel sick, you and your family!”

“Them”.

It wasn’t just Michaels in the room alone. They had been a witness to his murder.

Derek’s movement to help Y/N took Spencer out of his analysis. Sweaty, Y/N was led back to the couch, the bin between their legs, head lolling forward. Spencer tried to move beside them for questioning, but Y/N winced and began heaving again. He felt that ache in his chest again. He was causing this and nothing he could do would change that. Not until they both knew what happened to Riley and Y/N got help through it.

“What did you see, Y/N?” Derek asked as he replaced Spencer’s spot beside them.

With watering eyes, Y/N looked at Spencer, “The man we played with, he was on the floor. His head – thank you.” They accepted the water from Doctor Mohikian, gulping some back, “It was smashed in.”

The three agents left the room, Doctor Mohikian following after Y/N left to get some air.

“It’s logical to assume that Y/N tied that sickness, that repulsion because of what they thought they saw your mother be involved with, to you and your family,” Doctor Mohikian evaluated.

Interrupting again, Spencer stammered his way through his analysis, “That’s why they avoided me. They associated me with being ill. It’s probably also why they ran away so much; they had to get away from this horrible feeling they had associated with their home.”

Doctor Mohikian shook her head, “We won’t be able to use this in court, I told you when we started.”

Derek’s phone started to ring. As he answered, Spencer somehow managed to slip away for long enough to find Y/N. They were leaning against the ramp’s railing in front of the practice, their body lifting and slumping with each deep breath they took. Against his better judgement, he moved toward them.

“Y/N? Can I have your number?”

The breathing slowed again.

“I need it to call you with an update on the situation as soon as we get one.”

Without looking up, Y/N pulled out their phone and handed it over to Spencer. He punched his number in a new contact, using this time to gather the courage to maybe say something else. The hurt and pain went beyond him now. Y/N was suffering and had been much longer than he had.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Spencer said quietly, hoping that his didn’t add to the illness, “I hope you feel better soon.”

Their head still down, Y/N croaked, “You too, Spencer.”

“Spencer, get over here! We got a match on a print on Michaels�� body!”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

“What makes you think Gary Michaels killed your boy?”

“He admitted it,” Lou Jenkins said, as monotonous as he had been for the last fifteen minutes of the interrogation.

Derek’s quickfire was on Jenkins instantly, “You beat a guy with a baseball bat, he's going to admit to a lot of things. How do you know he was the right guy?”

“I know. He approached another kid in the neighbourhood.”

“And how do you know that?

“I was told by a concerned party.”

“Who? Another parent?”

Jenkins leant back in his chair, “That's all I'm going to say on the subject.”

“Who was it?” Spencer suddenly spoke up.

Caught off guard at his interjection, Jenkins awkwardly parroted himself, “I told you that's all I'm going to say on the sub—"

Reid slammed his hands on the table, getting right up in Lou’s face, “Who was it?”

The door opened, Detective Hyde appeared, “Agent Reid?”

“Do not interfere with this interrogation, detective,” shouted Spencer, “This is not your case anymore!”

Once again, he was cut off. This time, by the arrival of his own mother, Diana, and her admission of guilt: “Spencer, it was me”.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Of all the things this case had brought him, Spencer least expected to be sitting in a room with his mother and father together for the first time in years. To have Diana explain to him how she was involved in a child’s murder was also up there with the unthinkable.

But he stayed quiet and listened to her confession.

The reveal that she had seen Gary Michaels playing chess with him and Y/N, that she and got a feeling that something was wrong before anything had even happened, opened the story. Lou Jenkins’ involvement was next on the menu. Two days after the chess game, he drove Diana to Michaels’ house, disclosed his history of child abuse, and demanded she leave while he went into the house.

Upon reaching the point where she entered the house, Diana struggled with her words. William reached over and took her hand.

She described seeing Lou with the bat, standing over the body, slipping in the pool of blood, finding Y/N standing in the window and their face, their little face as innocent as the white cardigan that covered their shoulders and absorbed the blood from Diana’s hands as she shook their shoulders.

“And the rest... It's all dark after that.”

William continued for her. Diana came home and brought Y/N with her. Eventually he came to understand what had happened and decided that nobody could ever know.

“You were burning her bloody clothes,” Spencer concluded.

His father nodded, “But the knowing, you can't burn that away. It changes everything.”

“You paid for Y/N to go to therapy.”

William didn’t seem surprised that Spencer knew this, going straight into explaining: “They went into a dissociative fugue state after seeing what Lou had done. When Diana brought them home, they were just stiff. I asked them for their home number, to call their parents, but they started screaming and throwing up. We had to take them to the police station.” He mopped his brow with a handkerchief, “They needed help, but their parents couldn’t afford it. And they didn’t know what had happened. I couldn’t drag another person into this, Spencer.”

“Is this why you left?”

“I tried to keep us together, Spencer. I swear to you, but the weight of that knowledge, it was too much.”

“You could have come back. Could have started over.”

“I didn't know how to take care of you anymore. When I lost that confidence, there was no going back. What's done is done.”

“At least now you know the truth,” Diana made an effort to smile at her son

Choking on his words and the overwhelming remorse he felt, Spencer refused to look at his parents any longer, “I was wrong about everything. I'm sorry.”

And William said something that Spencer had been waiting for, for a long time, “I am, too, Spencer.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

All of this was repeated when Spencer walked with Y/N through their old park the following day. Filling the final gaps in the memory would hopefully bring some respite to them both. Or at least maybe something to start the recovery process, easing Y/N’s sickness and Spencer’s pain.

“I’m sorry for my behaviour during this case,” Spencer sniffed, “When you said we made you sick, back when we were four, I thought you had seen my mom during one of her episodes and thought she was a freak, like everyone else.”

That stopped Y/N in their tracks, their hands coming up to cover their mouth, their eyes misty, “Oh Spencer, I’m sorry too, I’m so, so sorry I caused you so much pain.”

Spencer’s hands rushed up as if to create belated damage control, “It’s ok! I hurt you too. I made you sick.”

“That wasn’t your fault though.”

“It wasn’t yours either. We were kids.”

Almost pedantic, stropping, like a child again, Y/N moaned, “It’s all been such a waste. We could have been friends all this time!”

“We can be friends now,” Spencer pushed his hands down into his pockets to stop them flailing about anymore. His sentence was phrased more like a question.

One that Y/N gladly answered, “I would like really that.”

Sitting in the reply for a moment, Spencer followed up on his concerns, “How are you feeling? I mean, are you feeling sick again?”

“A bit, but I can handle it.”

Spencer could not see any changes in their behaviour from the day before. So obviously they were lying about that. But he didn’t protest. The lie meant Y/N wanted to stay with him, which was good - Spencer wanted that too.

They kept walking, only in silence for half a minute before Spencer broke it again, “I read your books last night.”

“Yeah?”

“‘The Siege of the Lost Faiths’ in Rogue’s Mask, that was our first game of chess.”

“It had by far the best narrative,” Y/N dragged their shoe a little on the grass before coming to a stop, “Do you still play?”

“All the time.”

They nodded over to where the old chess tables still stood, “Fancy a game before you go?”

Spencer grinned, “Just promise that this is the only setting where we’ll be on conflicting sides from now on.”

“Promise.”

Brushing the debris from the table, they both took their places opposite each other. From Y/N’s bag was revealed a box, spilling their painted chess pieces across the board. Remembering how they had stood in Y/N’s room, Spencer helped to set up the match. They took their seats opposite one another. Y/N was the green side, Spencer the purple.

Spencer moved first. After a second’s deliberation, Y/n moved their pawn.

“Isn’t there a story with this one?” Spencer said, an implicated teasing in his tone despite his shyness.

With an equally bashful eye roll, Y/N started their new story, “First begins the battle with the royals on both sides sending intrepid messengers to meet and pass along their deeds.”

Spencer took Y/N’s pawn. As he lifted their piece away, he spoke quietly, “One not as intrepid as the other.”

A gasp dropped from Y/N’s smile. He had never joined in the narrative telling before, always too taken up in the match to invest in whatever story they spun.

“He’s not a coward,” They said, still smiling, much to Spencer’s delight, “Prisoner’s dilemma, he just couldn’t trust the other with his life.”

“Did they know each other before this battle?”

“Yes,” Y/N moved a knight across, stealing Spencer’s pawn, “They were brothers who once shared a crib and now they share a grave.”

Throughout the game, Y/N continued the story with Spencer asking questions just to hear them talk more. The maturity of the stories had grown just as Y/N’s voice had. They knuckled their eyes a few times, but they didn’t complain about the headache.

“I know what endings you like,” Spencer moved his rook, “Checkmate in five.”

Y/N didn’t seem to mind that little dig, “This’ll have to be a short story instead then.”

Spencer’s next sentence got away from him, trailing off the closer he got to the end of it, “You could write an anthology series, if we see each other again and play more games.”

Where Spencer’s voice disappeared, Y/N’s returned with invigoration, “That’s not a half bad idea, Spencer.”

The checkmate never came. Y/N diverted the ending into a draw.

“A peace treaty has been forged by the survivors, because too many lives have been lost to justify this violence anymore. If only they realised sooner that no blood had to be shed for peace to rule the lands.” And they smiled at Spencer, clearly chuffed as they leaned back in their chair, “Bit of an upgrade from the horse noises, I’ll say.”

Spencer rotated the purple knight – the illusionist – between his thumb and forefinger, “I liked the horse noises.”

“You should have said during the match! I’d recreate them, for you.”

One by one, the pieces were placed back into their box until the last piece remained in Spencer’s palm: the knight or Soren the Illusionist, distractions and deceptions but he loved the tricks that delighted most of all. Just like Spencer with his magic tricks but a little to the left. The character was always one of Y/N’s favourites. Some solace away from the pain of thinking of who he was based on.

Y/N pushed Spencer’s hand away, closes his fist around it, “Keep him. He was made with you in mind anyway.”

The information sank in and Spencer’s nose wrinkled with the little smile on his face as he cupped the little Illusionist, “I’m Soren?”

Nodding, Y/N confirmed, “You’re Soren.”

“But what about your set though?”

“I can always make and paint another knight,” and Y/N tilted the piece upside down in Spencer’s hand, revealing the signature on the underside, “You and him are the originals, it’s only fair you stay together.”

In a moment of pure instinct and nostalgia, Spencer clicked his tongue as he twisted Soren in time with the noise. Y/N let out a burst of laughter that dragged the air out of Spencer’s chest.

“Hey, do you wanna get dinner tonight?” He said, running out of breath very quickly as a result.

It had a similar effect on Y/N, “I thought you – don’t you have to get back to Virginia?”

“I have time for dinner. For you.”

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

The bookstore was packed but the breath of the patrons was held as one. All eyes were watching the mini stage where a crouching figure lifted their head up slowly. A jump as the tension broke with the figure leaping up to their feet with a bang.

Y/N pushed up the brim of their cap. Snatching a deep green hoodie from the purple trunk – silver constellations painted on the sides – they swung it over their back before picking up the page where they had left off.

“Nasima looked up at Mason and said, ‘Well that was just unnecessary.’”

A burst of laughter shot through the pre-teens in the front row, spreading to the adolescents sitting further back who had grown up with the author’s other works, finally reaching the adults at the back where Spencer was fiddling with his cane. He adjusted the sleeve of his costume absentmindedly. He was just like everyone else in the room: captivated by how Y/N was so immersed in their reading.

They had just mimed kicking down a door, plus sound effects from their mouth. Swapping back and forth between the two conflicting characters arguing with one another, changing between the hoodie and the cap with every other line of dialogue and taking both off for the role of the narrator, it was certainly a workout.

An exaggerated breath was drawn into Y/N’s lungs, flopping over in a melodramatic state, which caused another laugh in the audience.

Spencer’s nose scrunched up as he grinned. He knew this was part of the scene; he’d seen Y/N rehearse this story in their sitting room. It was so much better to share this with an audience, for their reactions to fuel Y/N’s energy.

Y/N finished the short story A Battle of Bent Truths with a flourish, leaving the rest of the anthology for their audience to read in their own time. The kids were up on their feet first. Some of them were jumping up and down as they applauded with the rest of the shop. Y/N gave a big grin as they bowed, sweeping their cap off for extra drama.

There was a book signing and a photographer that followed, and Spencer waited patiently at the end of the queue, thankful that the store allowed him to bring a chair along with him. He was happy to entertain his godson and friends with a few tricks to pass the time.

“Another one please!” Henry jumped up and down when Spencer revealed his card.

A minor commotion arose by the photographer’s backdrop. There was a teenager was crying; she was clutching her copy of Untold Tales of Human Nature. Y/N was holding their shoulders, rubbing gently and speaking softly. Only half paying attention to his next trick, Spencer kept an eye on Y/N as they hugged the teenager, looking near tears themselves.

“Spencer?” J.J tapped him on the shoulder and Spencer realised that Henry was looking a little mad to have lost his godfather’s attention so easily.

“Sorry, Henry, can you pick another card please?”

When they reached the front of the queue, JJ went up first and took Henry and his pals up to see Y/N. They instantly recognised JJ and welcomed her with a tight hug. Henry was delighted to see his favourite babysitter and show them off to his school friends, boasting that they had read to him before today.

“They read me bits for bedtime, Mommy!”

“I know!” JJ tickled his cheek, “I read them to you too.”

“Who do you like better?”

“Mommy,”

Y/N gasped, dropping to their knees which made Spencer wince, “Henry, you wound me!”

Rossi approach next, knowing that once Spencer got to Y/N, they would not be left alone.

“You really know how to captivate an audience,” He kissed them on both cheeks, “Though don’t take offence if I don’t use the same tricks at my readings.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it! Thank you for coming.”

Y/N then caught Spencer’s eye and began meandering over to him with a smile they were desperately trying to stifle. Spencer rose from his chair, meeting Y/N in the middle.

“Hi, Spencer.”

With his free arm, Spencer flaunted his cloak, “Who is Spencer? I’m Soren the Illusionist!”

Giggles from his godson, his godson’s gang, his co-workers and friends, they almost caused Y/N to lose their composure. They held on just long enough to continue the banter.

“Oh, forgive me, you look so much like my boyfriend.”

“Hmmm, he must be very handsome,”

And Y/N burst into peals of laughter, waving their hands about, “OK, stop, stop, stop, I can’t.”

“Hey!” Spencer pretended to take offence, pouting as Y/N brought him into a hug.

“Don’t worry,” They kissed his cheek between giggles, “You are so very handsome.”

“To think you were once sick at the sight of me.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #my writing #r: gender neutral #wc: 5k+

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kyle-valenti · 3 years ago

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burnout only feels like burning

2.7k / Summary: kyle valenti doesn't have the same quarantine as his friends; an exploration of kyle's trauma during covid as a doctor. (tw depression & other triggers you’d imagine with this subject)

read & comment/ ao3

A little like the virus itself, Kyle’s relationship with his mask begins with worry, annoyance, and then pain. He’s more than happy to have the proper N-95 mask as they begin to get their first case at Roswell General but then a couple more patients trickle in and within a few days his skin is irritated and itching. Maybe it’s the news, maybe it’s the texts from his friends that he’s increasingly missing, but when the Regiment starts spouting off about how COVID is a joke he thinks it might be affecting his nerves too. By week three his former red mark left by the mask has become a permanent feature to his face and by week five it’s not a mark but a bruise instead. Blisters and cracks in his skin litter his hands from over-washing. His feet become so overused the pads of his feet feel numb and bruised and he wears through an entire pair of shoes.

Positivity has fled from his life by week seven and now he’s inside of a survival mode he’s never experienced. He thought after last year he’d be used to anything the world (or universe, rather, given all these aliens) could throw at him. Now what feels foolish, he had believed that there was nothing that could be worse than the previous pain of losing a patient or finding out his father had experimented on people’s lives.

When he’s out of ventilators and CPAP machines because Albuquerque needs them more and he has to choose whether or not to save the life of an eighty five year old or a thirty two year old he remembers from high school, he breaks.

Guilt is one thing, grief is another, but the pure rage he feels knowing that Max Evans is out on the town patrolling as some fucking cop and not someone who could heal most of this hospital makes him want to commit actual murder. Maybe trading the blood of an alien on his hands would feel less heart-wrenching. But no. Max had brought back Rosa and had paid the price. Quelling his anger, he went back to work.

He slept at the hospital most nights in the height of it. Sure the couch was rough, but it was better than the other on-call doctor beds down the hall. Three twelve hour ER shifts of a usual work week doubled to five days of thirteen hour shifts. Soon there’s a week where he pulls double shifts for an entire week when one of his nurses is urgently hospitalized herself. Hospital directors had left them with no PPE except contaminated masks to reuse. Maria, Isobel, and Rosa are in the forefront of a drive to make and donate masks to his hospital after some social media posts that he doesn’t even see until the cloth masks arrive and his medical assistants give him their handwritten note. It makes him smile, but smiling feels so foreign that he almost wants to break from that.

Visitors are no longer allowed which means Kyle isn’t allowed to use his bedside manner to comfort the family of patients. He has to facetime mothers, spouses, and children and hold the phone over a patient who can’t breathe without machine assistance and pretend that everything is fine and that there’s still hope despite the hypoxia and lack of rising vitals. Ignore that if the patient goes into cardiac arrest more than once, the kindest thing to do given prognosis is to let the patient pass. Resuscitation and DNR (a patient’s begging request to not be resuscitated) becomes a word he uses in his daily work and not simply for intense surgeries.

Exhaustion isn’t a deep enough adjective to describe the fugue state he goes into. File to file, room to room, ventilator to next… he isn’t surprised when his body starts to wear down. When he no longer feels hunger and instead feels all too hot and dizzy. Telling himself it’s just because of how much he’s exerting his body while covered in layers and layers of protective clothing doesn’t help the fact that he’s starting to have more trouble breathing as he walks the hallways at a fast pace. When he begins to cough, he does what he promised himself he wouldn’t do and drives out post-shift to the desert cabin of Max Evans.

Part of him is too desperately tired to knock, but when he arrives on the property with the cop car idle and the house dark and at peace for the night, his fury greets him with the embrace of a long-lost friend. Knuckles pound at the wood and Max answers the door with surprise and a general look of defense, and Kyle tries not to immediately punch him in the face at the fact he looks like he had woken up from a comfortable sleep.

“Heal me.” Kyle manages to spit out.

“I—what’s wrong?”

“Beginning stages of respiratory distress, fever, nausea��what do you fucking think?”

“Kyle—,” Max starts to say, the hesitation deepening, and that does it.

“No. I have not asked you for anything in all of this, Evans. Anything!” He shouts, voice hoarse. “Not when people got sick, not when they started dying, not even when we started having to let people die on purpose. And you know what? I wasn’t going to even come and ask you now, but I can’t get sick when I’m the one here fucking saving lives out of the two of us and you’re just cruising the streets handing out goddamn traffic tickets.”

Max’s face isn’t stony like it usually is when Kyle’s yelling at him; this time it’s crushed and guilty but not nearly enough. “What kind of hours you work this week, Evans? A nice 8 to 4? Did you get facetime with Isobel or your mom, maybe binge through a few books and movies after you’re home? Did you sit down and eat a nice dinner and or go over to drink a few beers with Guerin since you can’t get sick? Even get a nice eight hours of sleep in your own bed in your nice quiet home?”

No response.

“I am not asking to sequence your DNA like Liz. All I am asking is for you to let me heal people since you don’t want to.”

A night breeze is all that makes noise for a moment as Kyle catches his breath and glares at Max, who stands quietly but is staring down at his boots before he finally looks up and nods. Max steps forward then, and Kyle sees that his eyes are actually filled with tears. Temper deflating, but still not subsiding entirely, given that not much else is able to be done; Kyle lets Max place a hand on his shoulder and feels the extremely weird feeling spread throughout his body. Something more electric than anything else, which God knew made a lot more sense concerning his powers and how the body operated with electrical nerve impulses, but that is a train of thought better left for another day. He wants to just walk away, and he almost does, but he still mutters a “thank you” before he does so.

When his nurse dies a few days later and he watches as the staff double bag her body to take to the morgue, he escapes to his office and crashes on his couch with sobs. There’s no one here to support him. He can’t go to his mother’s home and collapse into one of her comforting embraces without risking infecting her. He can’t get wasted at the Wild Pony with Maria when it’s closed. He can’t visit Rosa or Arturo at the Crashdown. Keeping his friends and family safe meant keeping them away from him. Keeping them safe meant he needed to stop pushing his head into his hands to try and control the sound of his crying and get back to work at saving the lives around them.

He gets put on leave by the hospital administrator when he’s almost arrested for decking Wyatt Long in the hospital parking lot as the idiot stood outside with a sign rallying Regiment members to make sure the hospital was told it was killing people on purpose for the election. If Jenna hadn’t been the officer on duty he would have been cuffed and put on record, jeopardizing his license, but there was some self-preserving part of him that desperately wished for his practice to be over anyway. He’s not even sure how Jenna handles it, honestly, all he remembers is her dropping him off at his house from her patrol car like she had been nothing but an uber. No matter how angry and adamant he gets, his boss refuses to bend, saying it’s for his own good given the connections the Long’s have in the town and how Kyle has worked almost 74 of the past 76 days.

Alex is the first to visit him, unannounced. When the doorbell rings Kyle is mindlessly pretending to watch some tv show in his living room that’ll distract him from his consuming thoughts about patients, so he doesn’t get up to answer. He checks his silent phone to see if he was forewarned of a visitor but sees nothing. Unsure if it’s his boss or a patient’s family, he forces himself up onto his sore feet and opens the door after grabbing a regular mask off the coffee table. Black face mask on and standing further out from the door on the porch is Alex, the usual gruff hello turned into something soft. “Hey.”

Kyle heaves a sigh. He had wondered when the pity visits would begin. “Hey. You really shouldn’t be around me, you know.”

“I’m clearly a minimum of eight feet away in an open space while masked.” Alex smarts back. “Either way, I’m worried about you.”

Scoffing, he shakes his head. “Don’t fucking worry about me. Worry about getting sick, because if I have to see another person I care about die, I--,”

“Kyle.” the other says too kindly, the sort of pacifying voice Alex reserved for only the most dire situations. “I have no idea what you’re dealing with in specifics, but my experiences do overlap with yours in some places.”

“And?”

Maybe it came out a little too rude, because Alex raises a brow, but then sighs instead. “And I’m just checking in to make sure you know people care about you.”

“Thanks, Manes.” Kyle huffs in return, managing not to roll his eyes because focusing on being blunt and abrasive was so much easier.

“Just be careful.” Alex interjects before Kyle could close the door and turn back to his show. “Dealing with the trauma of what you’re dealing with gets dark very quickly.”

“Because I punched Wyatt Long?” he spits back sarcastically.

“No, because the suicide rates for healthcare professionals are drastically increasing along with the rates of PTSD diagnoses.” Alex says flatly, ever one to be unfazed by sarcasm. “And I’ve lost more active duty members to suicide than I have combat.”

Kyle pauses, caught. Maybe Alex had known he would be, because there isn’t some way he can give a smile and reassuring wave with him like he could his mother or Liz. While Kyle hadn’t actively thought of a plan, he couldn’t pretend he had noticed signs of depression the second he was alone in his house.

“The quiet is the worst part, right?” Alex says, all but reading his mind. “Not always because of the flashbacks, although those are horrible, but because if things are quiet then--,”

“--people are dying.” Kyle finishes, his voice raspier by the end of the three words. “Yeah, well, mine still are.”

“They’re going to.” Is what felt like a cold response, but somehow gave Kyle the understanding he’s been craving. “They’re going to die and because of your profession you’re going to be able to save some of them. Which will make you think you’re responsible to save all of them and because you’re a good person you’re going to feel guilty in ways that no one will understand for being human and failing to.”

“Failing is all I do lately.” Kyle replies. “Usually the wins feel higher than the losses as a doctor, but with this-- and no one outside of it cares. They go outside and yell about how this is about a fucking election and when it’s not the patients, it’s the hospital pretending they don’t have enough money to buy us proper protection. Or the government saying this will all go away and that it’s just a light cold.”

Alex gives a small nod. “I know. I also know telling you the same advice that you’d give another doctor of trying not to burn out and instead taking a small rest is useless. So I’m just going to drop off these dvd’s and make you report back to me the difference when you’re done.”

Star Trek and Star Wars. Kyle finds a smile tug on his lips. Alex leaves with one on his as well.

When he gives a response to Alex a few days later on how Star Wars is better not more than a few minutes later Deluca is texting him with recommendations on joining her Buffy the Vampire Slayer rewatch. There’s something sweet about the fact that people have been clearly talking about him, even if definitely borderline creepy with how nosy his circle of friends can be, but he sighs and lets Maria add him to the group chat she has with Rosa and Liz where they review each episode after the fact and even chimes in every now and then. Isobel gets added not long after due to an Instagram story Maria shares and then the group has moved onto Friends after everyone shoots down Liz for suggesting Grey’s Anatomy on behalf of Kyle. Alex is also in there, even if it’s rare he chimes in with an opinion, but once they start Friends his commentary about how much he hates Ross that gets the entire group riled up does tend to make him laugh. Even Kyle agrees with Forest-- whose opinion had been shared by Alex-- that Chandler had all too many queer-coded scenes with Joey.

His mother facetimes him daily, which given how they both don’t exactly go out much starts to become monotonous, until she begins to give in and talk about memories she has of their father. Tidbits she never would have shared with him about their adult life when he was a child or teenager. He in turn facetimes Rosa and shares some of the memories of their father as well, which as much as she tries to pretend she doesn’t want for Arturo’s sake she clearly does with the million questions she asks every single time and the small smile she gives him at the end of their calls.

Liz updates him on her work which is a nice reprieve from everyone’s normalcy and lack of medical jargon sometimes, especially when she gives him inside info on covid vaccine studies not yet published to the general public yet. Everything in him wants this more than anything else in the world right now and he texts her almost every day asking if she’s heard more news even when he knows things take time. She’s a good sport about everything, even when he shares in a very angry rant about Max Evans and how they could have helped so many more people so much more quickly with his DNA-- however selfish that might have been.

When he goes back to work, he feels refreshed, even when it makes things hit like a freight train once more. Lost in a sea of inadequacy, his feelings extend past the pandemic. Even when things return to a level of normalcy and the cases subside he gets alien medical drama thrown in his face once more, and he starts to wonder if he’ll ever recover. If he was wrong to choose this calling. If the fact he can’t help Max or Maria is a sign from above or his father that it’s time to make some career move or change location like his mother and Liz. But, like he tells Michael Guerin. He can’t think he can face his future children and say he walked away from this. Or let people die by quitting, just like Rosa warns. And so he stays and tries to heal both other people and himself.

#so yeah this was the lighter version #i had to stop before things got to dark for my own mind #also genuinely feel like the mentions he gives to rosa about feeling lost #should stem from this if the writers aren't cowards #kyle valenti #rnm fic #kyle valenti fic #roswell new mexico #tw covid #tw depression #my fic #my post

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all-might-can-smash-me · 4 years ago

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Homestay 2

@darlingely

Part 1

You are on part 2

Part 3

Taishiro Toyomitsu / Fatgum x Reader!

Summary: after developing a relationship from his time as a guest in your home, the two of you have been surviving on text messages and phone calls ever since he left to go back to the city. The both of you missed each other terribly...so a little surprise wouldn’t hurt....

Sorry for typos

Masterlist / request info in masterlist

Ever since those three heroes had left at the end of the week, your semi large home had become painfully quiet. Without Taishiro though? It had become painfully lonesome. Every night you expected his figure to appear in the door way to your room to cuddle the night away like the two of you had done the week that he, Suneater and Red Riot had been guest in your home, but every night you were left disappointed. After a week or so the feeling had slowly faded away, but you still yearned for Taishiro. You wanted to see that grin, be in those arms, and listen to those laughs rumble through his chest as your head would be rested upon it. Instead, you were left to impatiently check your phone every second it was in your hands or listen for the telltale signal of your obnoxiously loud ringtone whenever you would be tending to your garden are bothering the chickens for their eggs or to toss out their feed. The times you did receive a text message and did hear that loud text tone, your heart would drop down in your chest and end up in a ball of flutters and fast heart beats. A blush would always manage to find it’s way onto your cheeks, even if it were to be a simple text that would be wishing you a great day, good morning, night, and or jus a plain hello. That man always kept your heart in a flutter and your cheeks hotter than the rays of a summer sun. What really made your hear go boom was the calls the two of you would had, mostly at night. The two of you could spend the moment the sun goes down and when the sun goes back up talking and giggling over the phone, but the two of you didn’t care if your heads were an exhausted haze throughout the next day. Spending the whole night talking and laughing was worth it, but sometimes he would have to sadly skip the phone call of end it early since he is a pro hero after all. As the months went on, that feeling had crawled it’s way into your core. That bitter loneliness and yearning for that man that made you swoon. So, having a neighbor agree to watch your home, you made the hike along those dirt and gravel roads with your suitcase in hand, the straps to your stray hat adjusted to keep it snug upon your head and away from the ghostly grasp of the wind the fluttered along beside, whipping the train ticket in your hand playfully as if it were a cat teasing a feather.

Now you had a bit of experience when it came to the city, you didn’t live under a rock and you surely never just decided to never leave the area of sparse farming towns and villages either, but when the city had come into view through the window that was situated next to your seat on the train...you couldn’t help but let a childlike excitement creep up within you. The city still was quite amazing! The roads always zipped and zoomed with vehicles, people would move from one side of the street to the other in a HUGE heard, and then the city always had heroes patrolling and dashing by to keep the streets safe. And the buildings! You couldn’t help but always feel that they might just fall on top of you as you shuffled past people, eyes darting to the directions that was open on your phone, gushing out apologies if your suit case would have accidentally wacked a passerby’s legs. Your footsteps had soon came to a stop once your phone chimed a pleasant ‘your destination is to your left’ up to you.

“Fatgum...” you muttered out as you read the huge letters that were upon the face of the building. You couldn’t help but let out a giggle once you finally got a good look at the hero agency. “Hey...it looks like him!” you spoke out to yourself with a grin upon the revelation. Your amusement was soon mellowed out as you took in a deep intake of air, now beginning to make your way up to those glass doors, not pushing through, a blast of air pressing past your face and pushing the small little hairs around your face. “Whoa...” you mumbled out as you let your eyes scan the area. It was your very first time in a hero agency, so yes of course it was going to bring a childlike excitement to accompany the new experience.

“Can I help you?” A voice asked from the reception desk, snapping yourself out from your star struck haze. Now looking to the woman at the front desk, you quickly offered a smile before lugging up your suitcase to now lean up onto the reception desk gently, though just as you were about to say something, the woman was already speaking again as she looked up to you from her seat. “I’m sure I can help you find your way to your hotel in no time! What is the address ma’am?” You were kind of caught up in your own confusion for a second before giving a little shake of your head and a laugh to go along with it.

“Oh, no! I’m here to see Fatgum!” You spoke out once you had regained your composure from your little moment of hazy confusion. The other woman only gave you a confused look as she had began to type and click away at the computer that sat off to the side, eyes quickly scanning the screen before looking to you.

“I’m sorry...but I’m positive you aren’t on the schedule, but I can try and get you a time to meet with him. Either call the agency later or leave your contact information so that someone will be able to contact you..” She professionally explained as she was already handing off a business card towards you across the desk, but you only looked to the card, eyebrows scrunched together.

“Look...I traveled here from the Niigata area to come and visit him, so you can just tell me where his office is, that would be all I need.” You said with a sheepish smile as the woman seemed to only grow agitated and suspicious of you. “And I was hoping to not let him know I’m here since it is a surprise and all..” you continued on, but your voice seemed to lose it’s up beat tone the more the receptionist casted that cold gaze to you.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that, but you can still leave your contact information in order for us to contact you or try contacting us tomorrow or the next day in order to schedule a meeting, have a nice day.” she curtly spoke once more, her attention now the phone hat run upon he desk, her fingers now rapidly typing away at the keyboard with the iconic loud clicks. You of course only let your smile fall down in a small frown, backing away from the desk with the feeling of embarrassment tearing at your insides as you turned away from the reception desk.

“Now what...” you mumbled out as you had began to slowly make your way to the glass doors.

“Boo!” Shouted a voice, hands jabbing at your sides which caused you to give a little yelp, now whipping around to face the culprit. One of your hands were raised to give a good smack to them too, but you only gasped with a grin upon your face. “Did I scare you with how spooky that sounded or what?” chuckled the familiar figure before you

“Red Riot!” You exclaimed, now offering the other a tight hug with your suitcase set at your feet, now pulling back to look a him. “You look so cool! I didn’t get to see you in your costume whenever you, Suneater, and Fatgum stayed!” You pointed as you admired the young, future hero in front of you.

“Yeah! Must be kind of weird, but what is weirder is that you are here! For a second I thought I was hallucinating or someone else just had that some beat up straw hat..” He teased as he let a finger tap the brim of your hat, you only rolling your eyes and pushing his hand away. “Thank goodness it was you, it would have been embarrassing if I did that to someone I didn’t know” he said with a sigh of relief.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t do that!” you scolded him, but it was in a joking manor as you leaned down to grab your suitcase again. “But...where is Fatgum? I came to see him, but I wanted to surprise him, ya know? Along with Suneater!” You quickly added with a little laugh. “But I didn’t have much luck with doing that...” you said with a little frown, casting a glance to the reception desk “I should have figured that much, it being a hero agency and all...”

“Hey! She’s with me!” Shouted out Kirishima towards the woman at the desk, now taking the suitcase from your hands as he soon motioned for you to follow as he led you up the stairs. “Suneater is out on patrol, along with Fatgum and I was just about to head out for my own patrol hours” He explained as he looked over his shoulder and at you, now pushing open a door and ushering you in. “So you can just wait in here for Fatgum and Suneater, it shouldn’t be long” Kirishima now set down the suitcase at the large desk. “I really gotta go, but I’ll probably catch you later if you are staying for a few days, catch ya later!” He called out as he was already rushing out the office, door closed to leave you in the silence, eyes scanning the room. At first you hesitantly walked about the room, freezing at every trick sound that your brain teased your ears with. Soon you were now letting your hands touch everything! The chairs in front of the desk, the desk itself, the shelves, filing cabinets, everything that you could reach to glide your fingertips across. Your eyes had finally landed to the chair the sat behind the desk. With a little excited squeal, you let yourself flop down onto the massive chair, letting our a laugh as you let the chair spin, now facing the windows that looked down the streets. The same windows that made up Fatgum’s iconic grin on the outside of the building.

“That’s funny, I don’t remember leaving my chair facing that way. Red Riot must have sat in it again..” Muttered at a voice from the now opened door of the office. That is when you quickly spun around to now face the other within the room. “Holy crap! When did you get here!” Exclaimed Fatgum as he quickly rushed forward, you now standing up from the huge office chair to allow him to lift you up with a tight hug.

“I bought a train ticket to come and visit for a few days! I wanted it to be a surprise, so Red Riot let me up here” You muttered out as you pulled your face back too look down at him. “But look at you! You’re so cute and you look really cool too!” You exclaimed excitedly as you let your eyes admire him once he set you down, hands still gently holding onto his. “And I thought you were tall when the three of you stayed for the week....you’re taller now...” You spoke as you finally looked up to him with your shocked expression, the large grin stretching across him face and just the smallest blush crawling just a tad bit out from under the mask that covered the majority of his face.

“It kind of slipped my mind that you really haven’t seen me like this, sorry” He said as he let out an almost nervous laugh as he looked down at you. The words he was going to speak got trapped in his throat thought as he looked down at you. That giant thud and flutter of his heart was the culprit as he finally got a good look at you, but someone clearing their throat off to the side caught you and Taishiro’s attention, hands now separating and a step taken away from each other.

“And you Suneater! You were cute before, but you are even cuter now!” You giggled out as you were now hugging Tamaki tightly, of course flustering the young adult, but he simply gave the tiniest of hugs back in return.

“Hey Suneater, you can head home now, since your completed your patrol hours for today, don’t forget to clock in your hours though” Taishiro spoke out after clearing his throat, Amajiki only nodding his head before bidding a quiet ‘nice seeing you’ to you before leaving the office, but once that door closed, Taishiro had you back in his arms, holding you tight and smothering your face with kisses. “You sneaky little thing...” he muttered out with a little laugh before setting you down, though you only rolled your eyes as you let yourself set at the edge of his desk as he sat down upon the huge chair that you once sat in.

“I probably should have let you know, I kind of made a fool of myself at the front desk..” you said with a small laugh as you swung you feet a little, holding onto Taishiro’s hands that were now rested upon your lap. “She was kind of really suspicious of me...” You said as you let your thumb gently rub upon his hand. One of his hands had slithered out from your grasp to gently pull down the hat from your head, hand soon smoothing the flyaway hairs from your face. The time was spent with of course him explaining a few things about his agency and what not. The time was also spent with laughter, a few blushed and a kiss here and there that the two of you couldn’t resist sharing. He was also elated over the fact that you also planned to stay at his apartment as well. Apparently sleeping alone wasn’t really the same for only you. Once the hours got late and he could head home now, he took hold of your suitcase, your straw hat now jokingly upon his head as he lead you down to the main floor, your hand holding onto his arm as you followed beside his towering figure.

“Hey, this is my girlfriend, so next time just let her head up to my office, ok? Have a nice night!” Taishiro said with a grin to the receptionist as he had pushed past the doors, holding them open for you. The term ‘girlfriend’ left a grin upon your lips that was being supressed by a bit from your teeth, a blush crawling upon your cheeks. Now you hugged onto the parts of his arm that you could reach as the keys to his apartment jingled around in the lock to his door, finally givin that knob a twist before opening it. “This is my apartment.” He said as he allowed you in first, following after you to close the door shut and lock it to then slip off his shoes and begin removing his protective gear and other parts of his costume such as his mask and along with tugging down the hood to his jacket. Though you were already roaming around the apartment, shoes of course left behind at the front door. You let yourself give a quick walk around the kitchen, then you sprawled out upon the couch in the livingroom, but you quickly got up to continued your self directed tour. Taishiro only laughed as he watched you, announcing he was having food delivered which you only gave a little nod of your head as you continued on.

“Bingo!” You cheered as you opened a door to reveal his bedroom, now already tossing yourself onto the massive bed, letting yourself get lost and buried deep within the covers. You squealed though when the blanket was pulled back, you laughing as Taishiro was down beside you, now pulled up and snuggled against him. “I missed you so much...” you hummed out against his chest.

“Me too....” he spoke out quietly in agreement as he let his hand gently play with your hair, enjoying the sound of your rhythmic breathing against himself. “Maybe you should just move out here, live with me...” Taishiro said, now moving to look down at your face, but couldn’t help but let his his lips press those soft kisses against any available space upon your face.

“As much as I would love to do that, I can’t just give up the house I have....it means a lot to me...” you hummed out with closed eyes as you let those kisses continued to pepper your face, but your eyes soon opened with the disappointment of not feeling those soft kisses anymore.

“Who said you have to get rid of the house? I’ll help you keep it up, you know? When I get weekends off or recovery periods we can just go over there, away from the world to be by ourselves...” he said with a little wink, you only blushing and giving an eye roll, but you couldn’t help the smile upon your face.

“We’ll see about that, now come down here and give me a proper kiss.” You said with a giggle as you leaned up to press your lips against his, but the two of your were interrupted by a knock upon the door.

“The food...I’ll get it...” he said with a disappointed groan as he got up, footsteps lead down the hall and the the front door. The next couple days went a little like this. You would show up to the agency after sleeping in just a little bit which couldn’t be helped, his bed smelt like him and it was EXTREMELY comfortable. Then you would head straight to his office to visit with Tiashiro or maybe Red Riot and Suneater. One night the four of you were back at Fatgum’s apartment enjoying dinner together, Red Riot now speaking up.

“Hey....the receptionist said that she’s your girlfriend, Fatgum...” Kirishima spoke out with a raised brow, looking to the pro hero expectantly how only looked up from his plate with wide eyes, glancing over to you before back to Kirishima.

“Well...she is...” he finally said, small blushes already staining you and his own cheeks. “We have been for a while actually, but you know, it’s mostly just been over the phone and phonecalls.” He said as he looked over and down to you. “I just haven’t told you guys yet or really anyone.”

“Pay up...” came out a hushed voice, Kirishima cursing as he handed over money to Tamaki who quietly took it from him and pushed it away into the depths of his pocket.

“You two were betting cash on this or something?” Taishiro asked in bewilderment as he gawked at the two teens before him. Kirishima was the one to quickly explain himself.

“Well I thought that the receptionist just assumed that the two of you were dating, but Tamaki said that it was so obvious though since you always texted her, called her, talked about her.....and he also mentioned seeing you sneak into her room while we were staying at her place...ow!” He growled out in pain, Tamaki casting him a fearful glance that told him to just ‘shut up now!’ after giving a kick to his shin carefully.

“Wow....and I thought I was being discreet about it.” He said with a laugh as he continued to eat, you only shaking your head as you watched him continue eating.

“Well...we probably really weren’t now looking back at it...”

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