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soaps-mohawk · 11 months ago

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 31: Forced Proximity

Summary: John and Kyle are gone. You have no choice but to lean on the alpha you've betrayed, the alpha that hates you.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 11,071 words

Warnings: ANGST, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, anxiety, reader has a panic attack and several breakdowns, Simon being mean, ANGST, depression, lots of mentions of vomiting and the reader does get sick quite a bit though it's not descriptive in any way, ANGST, heat cycles, pseudoscience, medical stuff (that's probably very wrong), brief mention of needles, medical procedures (nothing very detailed), ANGST, very heavy emotionally again, some very light fluff like barely there but nothing compared to the ANGST

A/N: I did it. I finally got it up. It's uh...it's a heavy one again, I'll tell you that much. You'll hate me even more but oh well. I expected that through this part of the story. I'm so evil I know.

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“I don't like this. It's too...”

“Convenient?”

“Suspicious.”

“I know. But we don't have much of a choice in this.” John says, staring at Simon and Johnny. “You keep your eyes on her at all times. Stay in the barracks when you can. If you have to leave the barracks together, she goes with you.”

“We won't let her out of our sight.” Simon says. “If anything happens, Kate will be the first to know.”

“Good.” John says. He trusts the two of them to look after you. Yet he can't deny the timing of this is a bit suspicious. “We'll be back as soon as we can. Take good care of our girl.”

Two weeks.

It’s been two weeks since John and Kyle left.

Despite the fact it’s not the longest someone has been gone, it doesn’t ease the ache in your chest, the pain slowly carving its way into your very soul. You haven’t spoken to them. There’s been no word. Nothing. It could be a good thing. Sometimes no news is good news, and you suppose it’s better than a phone call saying they’ve died in some horrible accident.

You keep waiting for that phone call.

Every time Johnny or Simon’s phone rings, you begin to panic, fear eating away at that hole in your chest. It’s bad news, it’s Kate calling to tell them your alpha and beta aren’t coming home.

You’ve hardly been able to relax, tense and jumpy at the littlest things. Being enclosed in the barracks at all times isn’t helping. You haven’t left once, not even to the med center. Dr. Keller has been coming to the barracks, more than she normally would for your appointments. You wonder if it was Johnny’s doing to try and help you relax, or Simon’s doing in hope you stop stinking up the barracks with the sour scent of nerves and fear.

Simon has been distant still, avoiding you as much as he can. It’s impossible to avoid you completely, though, as Johnny can’t watch you 24/7. It’s a bit claustrophobic, the way they hover, always keeping one eye on you. It’s been a bit suffocating for the last three weeks, but with John and Kyle gone...it’s almost worse.

Johnny has tried to fill that void, tried to support you in any way he can, but it hasn’t worked. You know it’s Johnny, you love Johnny, yet not even he can fill the void that has become your life without your alpha.

You hate it.

You hate their job, you hate that it takes them from you. You hate the uncertainty, the constant fear and worry that makes you sick. You hate that it’s dragged you into it. You know they were digging for the perpetrator of the cameras, who put them up, who ordered them to be put up, who potentially wanted to look into your personal life in such a violating way. The sudden deployment feels too suspicious, too sudden to be coincidence.

But as John says, entertaining conspiracies won’t get you anywhere.

Still...it smells fishy to you.

The hole in your chest has left you in a constant state of uneasiness which has left you on the verge of tears constantly. Every day that passes without word of a tragedy or that they’re coming home makes your stomach churn, tears constantly brimming in your eyes. John’s shirt is constantly in your grasp, a dirty one you’d fished out of the bottom of his laundry basket, soaked in his scent. It’s beginning to fade, slowly eroding away until there won’t be anything left. Then you’ll grab another and another until you have none left. His room still smells like him, his pillows still fresh with his scent.

You know it will fade, though, and fade fast.

You’ve been avoiding spending too much time in his room and Kyle’s in favor of keeping their scents in there as long as possible. The fading of their scents is like an omen, marking a fading of their presence in your life, of the bond between you. The constant fear that you’ll forget them, what they sound like, what they smell like, what they look like.

It makes you physically ill.

That painful churning in your stomach is back as you sit on the couch in the rec room, curled up as far from Simon as you can get. Simon is still angry at you, at your betrayal of his trust. So much progress down the drain because you proved you’re not trustworthy after he trusted you enough to begin opening up. You still hate yourself for it, for keeping the secret for that long. Even a month would have been better and would have had less consequences for everyone. Maybe then you might have caught the camera in the bear sooner, and not been so violated during some of your most private moments.

Some of those moments with Simon.

How violated does he feel, having such vulnerable moments between you recorded and viewed by someone out there? You can’t help but think back to that night when he came back, and the morning after. Someone watched you. The bear had been right there, those black beady eyes staring right at the two of you. How many times had you fucked the others in your bed, the bear sitting there, watching, projecting those moments to whoever was on the other side.

Your heat.

The bear hadn’t been looking then, but it had been listening. It knows what happened, every last detail, every slam of the bed against the wall, every knot.

It makes you sick.

Your stomach churns, your arms wrapping around your middle as you let out a shaky breath. You’re going to puke again, the bile rising in your throat. The intense tingling in your hands is starting again, your fingers curling in as your extremities begin to go numb. You’re panicking again.

Instead of vomit, a choked sob leaves your lips, your tears hot and burning on your cheeks, stinging like they’re composed of acid.

Simon glances up from his phone, his face the mask of indifference that it has been for three weeks. A mask that he had worn for the first few months after your arrival. “What?” He asks, his tone flat and voice rough.

You can’t answer him, too busy hyperventilating and sobbing where you sit. You can’t even think if you wanted to, your body aching as your muscles begin to tighten. You can’t distress. You’ve been fighting the urge since the day the truth came out.

You can’t trust Simon to help you.

You’re not even sure he knows how to.

Of course, it would be easy to call Dr. Keller, get her to help him, but you’re not sure he’d want to. Could he be so angry and betrayed he’d just stand there and watch you distress yourself to death?

He wouldn’t. He’d have to explain himself to John, why he let it happen. It would tear the pack apart. It would tear them apart. You wouldn’t put it past John to try and rip Simon’s throat out with his teeth in anger. It would be a bigger betrayal than yours, and Simon wouldn’t let you lose your spot at the top of that list.

“Fuck.” Simon breathes, setting his phone down before moving in front of you. He lowers himself onto one knee, reaching for your arms. If you had been more aware you might have flinched away, but the lack of oxygen to your brain is making everything fuzzy.

Simon grips your elbows, tugging you forward gently. Your legs are forced off the edge of the couch, your body upright as Simon holds your arms in his grasp, your legs between his as he kneels in front of you. You stare down at him, the sudden change in position shocking you for a moment. You choke around another sob, eyes blurry as you try to look at him.

“I need you to breathe.” He says, squeezing your arms gently.

You can’t.

Your breaths are sobs, wracking your body, tearing at your lungs. Your chest hurts, aching and burning as you quickly begin spiraling out of control.

“Look at me.” He says, shifting his hold to your wrists, taking them into one hand before he grabs your chin with the other. He keeps your head still, locked on his face. His eyes are blurry to your own teary ones as you look right at him, looking through the mass of blurry black that surrounds him. “Breathe.” He says, his voice rougher than normal, rumbling with the command of his alpha around the edges.

It goes straight to your head, a shiver running down your spine. Your body shudders in response, your next sob catching painfully in your throat. You cough, lungs spasming as your body suddenly begins to follow his order automatically. Simon lets you go as you attempt to gain control over your out of control body. One part of your brain is still panicking, still pushing towards distress while the other fights to follow the alpha’s command. It’s a battle, your instincts at war with each other.

The next inhale is a gasp, inhaling until your breath stutters and your lungs ache. You let it out slowly, the flood of oxygen making you shake in Simon’s hold. He keeps his hand around your wrists until your inhales stop stuttering and your muscles start to relax.

He slowly releases you, pushing himself up to sit on the coffee table. You’re surprised it can hold so much weight after it’s been sat on so many times. Not even a creak as Simon lowers himself onto it.

He rests his elbows on his knees as he stares at you. His figure begins to get clearer as your tears slow, no longer blurring your vision. You're expecting the sharp sting of his harsh gaze, or worse the indifference you've grown used to over the last three weeks.

Instead there's a soft look in his eyes. Not soft as you would describe Johnny's, but soft compared to what it has been. Pity, you think.

“You're a fucking mess.” He finally says.

You laugh. You can't help it. The deadpan delivery of such a him statement in response to everything has a laugh escaping your lips. You wipe your eyes, sniffling. He hates it, hearing your sniffles. It annoys him when you cry, it always has.

You push yourself back onto the couch, pulling your knees up again as you stare at him. There's a slight tremble to your fingers still as you sit there in silence for a moment.

“I'm sorry.” You say, still looking at him. “If I had just said something sooner...” You swallow thickly as you stumble over your words. “None of us would have...the camera would have been found sooner...we wouldn't have...both of us...”

“You shouldn't apologize if you don't even know what to say.” He says, the softness in his gaze hardening again.

“It's not that it's just...” You take a breath, trying to straighten out your thoughts. “I feel so guilty. This is all my fault and if I had just said something sooner, none of this would have happened. What happens next is my fault too. I know you and John have been digging into who is behind it and I know how risky that is. They know that we all know now, and...I'm scared of what might happen.”

You let out a long breath at your confession and attempt at an apology, squeezing your fingers together as they begin to tremble even more. You want to look away, his gaze piercing into you again. You're reminded of the moment the words had fallen from your lips that had caused this in the first place. Your heart begins thumping in your chest, your breathing picking up slightly at the memory. Will he get angry again? Will he snap at you and drag you down the hall to lock you in your room until John and Kyle get back, or Johnny calms him enough to rescue you?

“I feel so violated.” Your voice shakes. “I can't even imagine what it's been like for you. It took us so long to get to that point and...” You swallow the bile trying to rise in your throat. “I'm so sorry.” Tears blur your vision again. “I didn't know...I didn't think...I was so stupid.”

He scoffs. “You are.” His words are sharp, and they sting as they slice through you. “Fucking stupid, I'd say.” You wince at his words. “But you’re inexperienced. You don’t think about things like we do. No matter how much everyone has tried to drill it into your head, you’ll never truly understand until you experience it yourself.” He holds your gaze for a moment. “I hope you never have to.”

You stare at him, the meaning of his words not lost on you. You’ve put yourself in danger, you’ve put all of them in danger by keeping this all a secret. Whoever put those cameras up knew you were keeping it a secret and hadn’t done anything in retaliation against you for finding them and destroying them. Maybe that was their plan all along. They knew you’d keep it a secret and use that to their advantage. Strike when they least expected it, or perhaps wait for the moment the truth inevitably came out and then strike.

The thought has a cold chill running down your spine.

You’re afraid for a different reason now.

John and Kyle are gone. Anything could happen to them and it wouldn’t look suspicious. Or whoever put those cameras up wanted everyone split up. Attack when there’s less knights defending the castle.

A shiver runs through you, making you curl in on yourself. The feeling of being watched is back. The darkness peeking out from around the blinds over the rec room windows suddenly feels very threatening.

“What’s goin’ on in here?”

A startled yelp leaves your lips as you whip around to face Johnny where he’s leaning against the door to the rec room. Simon’s body tenses in response to your fearful yelp, an unconscious motion he has no control over. Alphas will always have the drive to protect the omegas in their pack. It’s a natural protective mechanism, no matter how they may be feeling about said omega.

Simon’s body relaxes as you do, putting a hand over your heart to try and calm yourself down again.

“Jumpy this evenin’.” Johnny says, entering the rec room. He steps up to the couch, bending down to rest his hands on the arm next to you. “Didnae mean to scare ye.” He says softly. “Ready tae get to bed?”

You nod. “Yeah. I am.”

“Come on.” He holds out his hand and you take it, letting him help you up off the couch. “We’re usin’ yer shower, Si.” He says.

Simon rolls his eyes. “Course.”

“Simon?” You say before Johnny can pull you from the rec room. The alpha turns to look at you. “I am sorry.”

He stares at you for a long, tense moment. “I know.”

Johnny leads you down the hallway, his hand on your lower back. He’s gotten touchy again, letting his hand rest lower and lower on your back, brushing your breasts as he pulls the covers up around you at night. He refuses to let you shower without sitting on the toilet lid. You know the chances of Simon opening up like that again are slim, if at all. You’ve ruined that opportunity, and you’ll have to be satisfied with where he draws that line permanently.

“Have a good conversation?” Johnny asks.

You nod. “He called me ‘fucking stupid’.”

Johnny nearly chokes for a second, covering his mouth to hide a laugh. “He’s certainly not a man of eloquence.”

You shrug. “I mean, I don’t exactly disagree with him.”

Johnny leads you into Simon’s room, steering you to the bathroom. Your stuff is already inside from the unanimous decision to solely use Simon’s bathroom for ease and also safety.

Your towel is neatly on the rack next to Simon’s and Johnny’s, all folded the same way and hung evenly apart. Your soap and shampoo are neatly placed next to his, along with your toothbrush and other products on the sink. Always so neat and organized, despite his anger at you.

Can’t break his system even after you break his trust.

You pull your shirt over your head after starting the water, letting it get warm. Johnny stands behind you in the doorway, and you know he’s watching. You strip your shorts and underwear off, Johnny grunting quietly as you bend over to add them to your pile of dirty clothes. You’ve been tempted to leave them on the floor for the past two weeks just to peeve, but you’ve riled Simon up enough. With your luck he’d just toss them in the trash.

The water is hot as it pelts your skin, your shoulders relaxing as it begins to loosen the stress of the day. The emptiness in your chest continues to eat away at you, never disappearing despite what happens. Your stomach churns, the nausea returning. You stand under the spray, letting the water pour over your head as you attempt to calm the continuous twisting in your abdomen.

The shower door slides open, another body joining you before it slides closed. Warm skin presses against your back as arms slip around you, pulling you out from directly under the spray. You rest back against Johnny’s chest as he leans his cheek against the top of your head.

“I miss them.” You say quietly, just audible over the shower.

“I know.” Johnny says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“When will they be back?” You ask him, even though you know he can’t tell you.

“Hard tae say.” He says, grabbing your strawberry scented soap from next to Simon’s. He’s just been using Simon’s soap, something you probably assume he does often anyway. “Kate will update us as soon as there’s a possible ETA.”

“I don’t know how much longer I can take.” You say as he begins to wash your back.

“I know.” He says, gently massaging the knots in your back, trying to help you relax. “I wish I could get them home faster. I wish it had been us instead of them for your sake.”

His words make you feel guilty, but you both know it’s not anyone’s fault. John is your alpha, you belong to him, you were claimed by him. You’ll always hurt more about your alpha and beta’s absence than the other members of your pack can comfort you. If Simon had claimed you, things would have been different. The ache in your chest would have been less intense as you would still have an alpha you could lean on.

You’d always miss John, but if you had Simon, the black hole slowly devouring you would have slowed its progress.

Four weeks.

A month.

It's been a month since John and Kyle left. The familiar hole in your chest has widened, a gaping black hole now threatening to swallow you and string you out until you’re nothing but particles lost in its center. It’s worse than the hole Simon left when he went on his solo deployment, it’s worse than the hole they all left when they went on their first mission. Neither of those previous deployments lasted this long, and despite Johnny's attempts to console you, you don’t feel any better.

There’s been no contact.

A month with no contact, a month with no word. You'd know if something had happened. Even if you got no word on it, you would know. That sense that omegas have when something happens to the bond would be screaming.

It's been a rough four weeks.

There’s a heaviness that’s started to permeate the air as you try to adjust to the prolonged absence of your alpha. It’s nearly every day that you’re breaking down now, standing in John’s room to catch any whiff of him that’s left. You’ve worn the scent off his bed, his pillows, his clothes. You’ve run out of shirts that smell like him.

You’re terrified they might fade from your memory entirely. Kyle’s scent had disappeared quicker, fading fast until you were left unable to even picture the sea. The beach is a blurry, distant memory, the smell of the salty air faded and wiped away.

Still you cling to their shirts, as if you can hold them through the fabric. You carry them everywhere, packing them from room to room as you float around in a daze.

You’ve left the barracks once in four weeks for a training session that neither of them could miss. You’d gotten looks as you sat there, the sole audience member, but you're not quite sure what had happened or even what the training was far. You had been far away, lost in your own head, the haze of depression and grief numbing you to everything.

Dr. Keller continues to visit you in the barracks, still more than you normally would see her. You miss her office, the soft warmth of it, the plants and the colors lacking from the sterilized prison that is the barracks. It has become like a prison. You’re trapped inside, unable to even wander around alone. You feel like the princess locked in her tower under the watchful eye of the guards keeping her trapped inside. You need someone to come and rescue you, someone to set you free so you can at least wander the tower alone.

You want your alpha.

You miss John and Kyle desperately, their absence chewing away at your insides. The hole in your chest continues to widen as the days pass, consuming more and more of you as you slip deeper and deeper into the black hole of depression. Johnny is being affected too, sucked in by the gravitational pull of the black hole you have become. Even Simon is starting to feel it, softening a bit more towards you. He’d even let your hands brush a couple of times when he’s escorted you places, and he didn’t yank them away like you might pass some disease onto him.

You wouldn’t necessarily call him affectionate, even before all of this, but this is the first glimpse you’ve gotten of him being back to where the two of you were before you fucked everything up. You know it’s not going to happen overnight. It might never get back to what it was. He might simply be acting out of sympathy, and out of necessity because of your pain and grief being channeled through the pack bonds. Sometimes you wonder if John and Kyle can feel it too from wherever they are in the world.

You miss them so much it hurts.

The tears slip down your cheeks as you sit on the couch in the rec room. Johnny is off taking his turn to work out. It’s early, the sky still grey outside, the perfect epitome of how you feel inside. Simon is seated in his usual spot, book in hand. Your own that he had grabbed is still on the coffee table. You’re staring at it, tears gliding down your cheeks as you hold your knees against your chest. It’s become almost a normal occurrence, the tears, the blank staring, the lack of desire to do anything, even the position you’re seated in.

Simon glances up at you as you sniffle again, lowering his book slightly. “What?” His tone isn't annoyed per se, but you know he has to be tired of your constant blubbering.

“Tell me they’ll be alright.” You say, your voice shaking.

“You know I can’t-” He starts, but you cut him off.

“I need you to tell me.” You sob, your gaze lifting to the black screen of the TV. “I can’t take it. I can’t do this.”

He lets out a sigh, closing his book. You jump as the couch sinks down on your left, Simon taking a seat next to you. The flinch is subconscious as he reaches over to grip your chin and turn your face to look at him. Your tears slide down your cheeks, wetting his fingers.

“They’ll be alright.” He says, eyes hard as he looks at you. He’s lying but you need to hear it. “They’ve been gone for far longer than this before. Trust Price knows what he’s doing. He’s going to do everything in his power to come back. We’ll know if something happens. Laswell will let us know.”

You know that, you know all of it. Yet it does little to calm the pain in your chest. “I miss them.” You sob, Simon’s eyes softening as you continue to cry. “My stomach hurts.”

You’ve been nauseous since the day the truth came out almost five weeks ago. The nausea has been churning in your stomach, making you constantly on the edge of vomiting. It’s the stress, the combination of the truth coming out and your alpha being gone. You’ve been choking food down, eating only out of necessity.

Simon lets out a sigh, releasing your chin to wrap an arm around you. His other hand drops to rest on your stomach. It’s warm through the fabric of your shirt, applying gentle pressure. He smells like alpha, different from John, but still an alpha. The tears continue to fall as he holds you, your body slowly leaning closer and closer to him. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t even try to push you away as you fall against his side.

Your stomach is churning, gnawing. It’s not an unusual feeling. It’s felt this way for the last few weeks. It’s never woken you up before, though. You blink in the darkness of Johnny’s room, his arm still thrown over you. The gnawing continues to intensify as you continue to be pulled from your semi-peaceful sleep, becoming more and more aware.

You’re hungry.

You slowly unravel yourself from Johnny’s snake-like hold, ready to slip into the rec room to peruse your snack stash. Instead you’re pulled back onto the bed by the arm that slips around your waist.

“Where ye goin’?” Johnny rasps, still half asleep.

“I’m hungry.” You whisper.

He lets out a groan, letting go of you to rub a hand over his face. “Give me a minute.”

You rise from the bed as he stretches, slowly sitting up as he draws himself from sleep. It’s just past one in the morning, neither of you having been asleep for long. You feel wide awake as the gnawing in your stomach continues to intensify. You rock back and forth on your feet, debating just going and letting him catch up. It’ll force him to wake up faster, and ease the gnawing hunger threatening to turn you inside out.

Finally Johnny rises from the bed, stretching again as you impatiently open the door. He pads behind you to the rec room, watching as you dig out a bag of chips. He leans against the back of the couch as you stand there, devouring the chips like you haven’t eaten in days. You haven’t really eaten much in the last five weeks, so perhaps it’s finally catching up to you. You finish the bag but it’s not enough, so you grab another, devouring it halfway before you freeze. The bag begins to tremble in your hand, nearly falling from your grasp.

Johnny is alert immediately as you begin to panic. “What?” He asks stepping closer to you, ready to defend you from whatever has you on edge.

Your brain frantically does the math, thinking over the last few weeks. The bag falls to the floor as the realization slams into you like a bus. You turn to face Johnny, eyes wide in shock, fear shooting through you like lightning and clouding the rec room in the sour stench of omega fear.

Your lips tremble, the words stuttering out as you fight the panic rising in you, the nauseous churning of your stomach threatening to bring up the bag and a half of chips you just ate. Your fingers are shaking, clenching into fists again as they begin to go numb. Ragged breaths wheeze from your lungs as you stare at Johnny’s worried face, brows furrowed as he tries to understand what has you in a sudden panic at one in the morning.

“My last heat was eleven weeks ago.”

“The timeline is right,” Dr. Keller says, taking the blood pressure cuff off your arm. “The symptoms point to pre-heat.”

You take another bite of your candy bar, eating half out of necessity and half because you’re nervous. You hadn’t even considered this when John left, but of course you didn’t know how long he would be gone.

“Any word from John yet?” Dr. Keller asks as she packs the blood pressure monitor back into her bag.

“None.” Johnny says, crossing his arms. “Kate sent out a message, but there’s been no response.”

You’re numb to that fact, the hope that had filled you two days ago gone now that there’s been no word, not even for something like this. Simon had gone out of his way to call you when you needed him, but John can’t even send a simple message through, even a simple no.

“We may have to consider alternative options if he can’t get back in time.” Dr. Keller says.

He won’t get back in time. They’re all saying it silently. They all know it and so do you.

Your hands close into fists. You had hoped with your new pack and alpha you wouldn’t have to go through this again. But, of course with them having to put their job first, this was always a possibility. It was bound to happen eventually, you just hoped it wouldn’t be so soon.

“We’ll wait as long as we can.” Dr. Keller says, looking at you. “We don’t have forever, though.”

You shove the rest of the candybar in your mouth. You don’t want to say anything, you don’t want to do anything. You’re numb except for the incessant hunger. You’ll know when it’s getting close, when the hunger fades and you’re facing down the reality that your alpha won’t be here. You know he won’t. Even if Kate can get ahold of him, he won’t make it back in time.

You’re going to have to do this alone.

Well...perhaps not.

Maybe there is someone that can help you after all.

You’re terrified. You’re not sure how to even approach this, how to bring it up. It’s eating you alive, but you have to ask. You have to know. That small bubble of hope still rising in you that maybe, just maybe you can avoid the horror awaiting you. It’s a big request, but perhaps you can be convincing enough to play to his pity.

“Simon?” You ask, your hands curled into fists so they’re not visibly shaking. Your hair is dripping onto your shirt, soaking it but you don’t care. The cold is keeping you aware, keeping you from floating away into your head again.

He grunts, looking up from his phone. You’d used the shower in his room again so he could watch you while Johnny took his own shower. You won’t sleep in here. You’ll stay with Johnny just like you have for the last almost five weeks. It’s safer, should your heat start in the middle of the night again. And also because he doesn’t want you to stay with him.

This is stupid. It’s a stupid decision but you need to know.

What if he says yes?

“Can I...ask you something?” You say, shifting nervously on your feet.

He pockets his phone before pushing himself up to stand. He towers over you as he moves closer, staring down at you as you look up at him. Sometimes you forget just how big he is, just how commanding his presence can be. You fight the urge to cower, to submit to him in fear. “What?”

The nervous lump in your throat threatens to choke you, the memories of his anger directed right at you burning right through you. What if he gets mad again? What if he reacts the same way? You can’t know what he will do, though. You steady yourself, wrapping the fabric of your shirt around your hands.

“Will...” You clear your throat. “Will you help me through my heat?”

It’s a big request. A huge request. You’re asking him to jump past barriers he’d kept up even before, something he’d never even suggested or hinted at wanting to do even before your last heat. You’re asking him to jump past barriers he’s put back up since your betrayal, making it clear you’re not welcome back in, you’re not going to get to where you were before. The most he’s done is let you lean against him that one night in the rec room.

You hope maybe he’ll agree out of necessity, maybe he’ll take pity on you and save you from the horrors of going through a heat without an alpha. It may be stupid, but you’re terrified of what’s awaiting you if he doesn’t agree. You don’t want to do it, you don’t want to be put to sleep and then wake up a week later sick and disoriented, and then spend the next few days still in the same state.

It makes your stomach churn, and not from hunger.

His eyes widen in shock as your words register. His hands tighten into fists at his sides, his shoulders tensing. You fight the urge to flinch at the movement, the sudden hardening of his stance before you. He wasn’t expecting it, obviously. You came out of left field with it, but you have to ask. You’ll beg if you need to. You’ll get on your knees and beg like your life depends on it if he wants you to. Anything just to avoid what’s looming in the near future.

His eyes harden as he stares down at you, and you suddenly begin to regret your decision to ask. His gaze is piercing, taking you back to when you confessed. You’ve made a mistake. You’ve made a huge mistake.

“No.”

The word is simple, two letters, one syllable, yet it slices right through you. You should have expected it, should have known that would be your answer, but it still hurts. He knows, he knows John isn’t coming back in time. He knows you’re going to have to do this alone. You had hoped maybe pity would push him into saying yes, maybe he’d open up a bit more before your heat started, maybe he might be merciful.

“I can’t.” He takes a step back, then another. His gaze softens to what you almost perceive as panic. He shakes his head. “I can’t.”

So maybe it wasn’t anger at you keeping him from agreeing. You can feel it, the edge to his scent starting to cloud it, the way his hands open and close as he squeezes them into fists over and over.

Tears burn your eyes as you stare at him, lifting your hands so they’re laced together in front of you. You knew that would be the answer, yet you can’t stop the disappointment. “Oh.” That's all you can say. You don’t trust yourself to say much else.

You swallow the lump in your throat as Johnny appears in the doorway, looking between the two of you before his eyes settle on you. He can tell something happened, something transpired between the two of you while he was gone. How much of it he heard, you’re not sure. Perhaps none at all judging by the look on his face.

“Ready for bed?” He asks, his gaze cautious. He’s trying to assess the situation, figure out what could have transpired to cause such a reaction between you and his alpha. He’ll never know. Not unless Simon tells him.

“Yeah.” You breathe, scurrying out of Simon’s room before you can make more of a fool out of yourself.

“H-How long will it take?” You ask, your heart thudding in your chest. Your pre-heat symptoms had stopped earlier this morning, the hunger gone, the itching beginning under your skin.

“As soon as your temperature goes up, we’ll get started.” Dr. Keller says, sticking electrodes to your chest. You’ve already got the blood pressure cuff around your arm and pulse monitor on your finger.

“Ye were prepared for this.” Johnny says, sitting next to the hospital bed. You’re in a private room, well away from any others, even though no one will know you’re in heat. There won’t be any scent projecting, no neediness, no aching. You won’t be aware at all that anything is happening as your body rapidly cycles through that sudden flood of hormones.

Dr. Keller nods. “This was always a possibility, so I made sure I had everything on hand for when it did happen.” She takes your temperature again. “Tell me when you start to feel warm. The last thing I want to do is send you under too late.”

Your skin crawls at her words, memories flashing back to the time you were put under too late. You trust Dr. Keller to take care of you, though. She’s far more competent and aware than that nurse had been. It’s her job to take care of you, to watch after you in moments like this.

You just wish you could talk to John before you go under.

You want to remember his voice when you come back out.

“I’ll be here the whole time.” Johnny says, taking your hand, obviously sensing your discomfort.

He’s brought a bag of things with him, since he’ll be staying with you for the few days it’ll take to get through your heat. It won’t be as long this time, your body being forced through those hormones quickly. It won’t even register it needs a knot, flying through those symptoms.

The wait is the worst part. It takes forever, every minute seeming to take an hour. Johnny waits dutifully by your side. You wish this wasn’t the first heat he would be here for. You wish he had at least gotten some experience with a normal heat, just so this one wouldn’t scare him off. Even Kyle might have been shaken by it, though, even with his experience.

Eventually the heat begins to prickle under your skin, your heart rate jumping. Johnny calls in Dr. Keller, looking nervous as sweat begins to bead on your forehead.

“It’s time.” Dr. Keller says, taking your temperature. It’s jumped quickly, your body starting to prepare for the onslaught of hormones about to be released.

She turns your arm, hooking up the IV that will deliver the sedative as well as fluids to keep you hydrated. The heart monitor beeps rapidly as you grow nervous, Johnny squeezing your hand gently. You know he’s trying, and there’s nothing more he can really do. There’s no stopping this. It’s going to happen no matter what.

“I’m going to administer the sedative. You’ll start to feel sleepy.” Dr. Keller says. “I’ll put in the feeding tube after you’re out.”

You swallow nervously, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. “It’ll be okay right?”

Dr. Keller gives you a soft smile “You’ll be just fine. It’ll be a few days for us, but it’ll be a few seconds for you. It’ll be over before you know it.”

You swallow nervously before nodding. Dr. Keller pushes the sedative through the IV, your body starting to relax as it begins to take effect. The itching under your skin stops, the heat fading as the ceiling gets further and further away as your vision tunnels. Johnny squeezing your hand is the last thing you remember before everything goes dark.

He’s seen a lot of things, done a lot of things that would make the average person violently ill. He’s no stranger to blood and gore, yet he can’t watch as Dr. Keller inserts the feeding tube into your nose. The thought of having it in his own body makes him nearly gag, his eyes closing as he breathes.

“I’m done.” Dr. Keller says, a small smile on her face as he turns back around.

“About gart me boak.” He says, looking at you where you appear to be sleeping peacefully. He supposes you are, blissfully unaware of anything and everything around you.

“You’re not good with needles either, are you?” She asks, obviously noticing how he had turned away when she put in your IV.

“Not my favorite.” He admits.

“She’s all set.” She says, stepping back. “You’ll want to move her every few hours, turn her on one side, lift her legs up. Keeps her from getting bed sores or blood clots. I’ll be next door, and I’ll check on her periodically. If anything happens at night, I’ll have my phone on full volume.”

“Thank ye, doctor.” He says, squeezing your hand despite the fact you can’t feel it.

Dr. Keller takes her leave, the room going quiet aside from the beeping of the heart monitor, and the occasional buzzing of the blood pressure cuff as it tightens around your arm. He stares at you for a long moment, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest as you sleep. It’s probably the most peaceful sleep you’ve gotten in the last few weeks, despite the changes happening internally. Dr. Keller had explained it to him, the hormonal changes, how sedation works differently than going through a heat consciously. Omegas do go through heat cycles awake and aware without an alpha sometimes. Institutes cycle between isolated heats and sedation.

The thought of you going through both makes his stomach twist.

Sweat beads on your forehead as you lay there, something that will continue for the next few days, the doctor said. Your heart rate is higher than normal, another sign that you’re in your heat as your brain cycles through the sudden rush of hormones. He’s not quite sure what to expect, not quite sure what it’ll look like if something goes wrong. He’s never done this before, and the little research he’d done doesn’t feel all that helpful. Dr. Keller trusts him to know, though, and he supposes it’ll be pretty obvious should something go wrong.

You’re not going to be doing much aside from laying there for the next few days.

The hours seem to drag on and he can’t help but wonder if this is how Kyle feels during your heats. At least Kyle had a job to do, had to focus and listen for the breaks in between rounds when he’d go in, ensure nothing was wrong, nothing happened, that you’re being fed and taken care of. All he has is the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the occasional buzz and crinkling of nylon as the blood pressure cuff expands. Dr. Keller brings him meals, keeping him fed and occasionally keeps him company as he watches dutifully over you. His back is aching from the uncomfortable chair and the makeshift bed, but he can hardly complain. He’s slept on worse.

He’s sketched a lot in the silence between watching videos on his phone and napping. It’s been a peaceful time, aside from his initial worry. You sleep away, sweat still beading on your forehead. Every so often he grabs a wet paper towel, wiping away the sweat.

He jumps as his alarm on his phone goes off in the silence, his pencil falling to the floor. He picks it up, setting his sketchbook to the side before he gets up. He’s careful as he slips his arms under you, easing you over onto your side. He bends your legs, making sure you’re steady and not cutting off circulation anywhere. He runs a hand over your hair, the strands starting to slip out of the braid he had put in before your trip to the med center.

He moves around to the other side of the bed, pulling the tie out before undoing the braid. He’s careful as he redoes it as best he can, making sure not to pull too tightly on the strands. The last thing you need when you wake up is to feel like your hair is being yanked out of your head.

He ties off the braid before moving back to his seat, staring at your peaceful face for a moment. It’s nothing new to him, but he can’t help but stare. He’s seen you sleep many times, held you, watched you blissfully unaware of the world. The softness in your face, the worry and the stress and the weight on your shoulders of just being who you are gone.

He picks his sketchbook back up, going back to drawing.

His stomach churns nervously. There’s a subtle shake to his hands, something that doesn’t happen often. He likes to think he’s prepared for anything, conditioned enough to not be shaken by anything. Yet he can’t help but feel unsure as Dr. Keller closes off your IV.

“She’ll be coming out of it soon.” Dr. Keller says. “She’ll be confused, disoriented. She might get combative. Your job is to talk to her, try to calm her and help ease her back into awareness. She’s a crier after heats, so I don’t doubt there will be tears. She may get sick as well.” She gives him a reassuring smile. “It’ll be alright. Coming out of a heat is hard, and so is coming out of sedation. Both at the same time is always a struggle.”

There was a time he thought maybe sedation would be the easiest way to deal with a heat, but from what he’s hearing, he might have been wrong. Sure it might be easier in the moment to not have those week long symptoms of intense desire, the fever, the desperation. Coming out of it though? From what he’s heard so far, it’s not as easy as it sounds. He’s been through it, coming out of sedation after an injury in the field. It’s a confusing feeling, disorienting enough before you find out days or weeks have passed. It’s hard to conceptualize without all those hormones going crazy in your head.

You start to stir, your brows pinching as you slowly begin to wake. You let out a groan, reaching for the feeding tube immediately. Dr. Keller gently pushes your hands away, nodding to Johnny. Your brows furrow deeper, a groan leaving your lips as you begin to move more and more.

“Easy, kitten.” He says, leaning down close to you, projecting his scent so you can hopefully get a whiff of it to help calm you. “I’ve got ye. Yer alright.” He brushes your hair back from your sweaty forehead as you continue to groan. He takes your hand as you reach for the tube again, squeezing it gently.

You crack your eyes open for a moment before quickly pinching them shut. Dr. Keller reaches up, turning off the overhead light before leaning down close to you again. She’s projecting her natural beta scent as well to try and help calm you. “I’m going to remove the tube, I know it’s uncomfortable.”

Johnny has to look away again as Dr. Keller removes the feeding tube, pressing his face into your hair as he projects his scent even more. You squeeze his hand back, the other gripping the side of the bed. You take in a harsh, gasping breath before you begin to cry, tears spilling out of your eyes as you sob. He had heard that you’re a crier after your heat from Kyle, he’s just never witnessed it before.

It takes him back to just a few weeks ago in John’s office when you had sat there crying as they interrogated you. It had made him uneasy, the stress and the fear clouding your scent. The fear he’d felt in those moments, listening to you cry and panic, nearly sending yourself into distress before John had calmed you. He might have done more, but he had been angry, angry at whoever put those cameras in your room, and slightly at you for keeping it from them for so long.

He can’t blame it completely on you, though. That had been back in the time where you still weren’t sure if you could trust them, before you fully opened yourself to them. Maybe they were slightly at fault for not making you feel like you could trust them, for not being realistic with you about the dangers. Sure you had been warned, had it drilled into your head why your safety was paramount, but maybe they had kept too much hidden from you. Maybe they had put you in more danger by trying to keep you safe.

Your eyes are still pinched closed as you continue to cry, sobs wracking your body as you grip his hand tightly. It tugs at his chest as he whispers quietly against your hair, trying to get you to recognize him, pull you out of the confusion and disorientation you must be feeling. You begin to hyperventilate, your hand slipping from his as you try to push yourself up. Dr. Keller already has the bed lifting, her other hand holding a vomit bag in front of you. It seems almost instinctual, but she’s been through this many times before. She had told him how many during one of their talks, when he’d asked her how long she's been working with omegas. He hadn’t realized just how little he really knew about your doctor before now.

Johnny has to look away as you vomit into the bag, his own stomach churning. Not just because of you being ill, but also because of how distressing this all seems. How you haven’t gone into distress is a miracle to him, but perhaps you’re still too out of it to be that aware.

Your breathing has calmed just slightly, your forehead beaded with sweat. Dr. Keller removes the vomit bag from in front of you, grabbing another and setting it on your lap.

“I’m going to dispose of this.” She says. “She’s going to be sick for a while. I’ll grab more fluids and I’ll be back shortly.”

Johnny nods, wiping at the sweat on your brow. You lean into his touch, letting out a quiet whine. His touch is gentle, almost scared he might hurt you in your fragile state. You’re still crying, the tears cascading down your cheeks. His chest hurts, guilt and sorrow churning inside of him from seeing you in this state. All thought that sedation was the best option goes out the window as he holds the vomit bag for you, keeping your braid out of the way.

Kyle had told him about what it was like during your heat and after, partially to feed his curiosity, but also in case something like this happened where he had to be the one taking care of you. He’d heard about the pain, the tears, the disorientation. This is different, though. This is far worse than what Kyle had described to him.

Dr. Keller returns, IV bag in hand. She removes the empty bag and replaces it with the full one, hooking it up to your IV. You have to be thirsty after a few days of having nothing but a feeding tube and the fluids to keep you going during your fever.

Johnny catches her hand as she pulls out a syringe, small enough to be discreet. Something tickles in the back of his mind as he stares at it, his instincts on edge.

“What is that?” He asks, starting to get defensive, his metaphorical hackles rising.

“Pain medicine.” She says simply, handing it to him. She has to be able to read him, sensing the sudden protectiveness wafting off of him.

He takes the syringe, reading the label. Morphine. He feels silly for distrusting the doctor. She’s never proven herself untrustworthy. While he knows they can’t be too trusting of anyone, she’s never done you any harm, never given them a reason to suspect her. She wouldn't hurt you, not after the dedication he’s seen from her these last few days alone.

“She might need it later once she’s more aware.” She continues, taking the syringe back when he hands it to her, putting it back in her pocket. “Her body just went through an intense hormonal cycle and those hormonal levels are now dropping suddenly. It can cause a wide range of symptoms from crying to illness to physical pain. When omegas are allowed to go through that cycle naturally, usually with an alpha, the symptoms of coming down from that cycle are typically less severe compared to when sedation is used, of course besides the physical pain. The pain with sedation is obviously quite different from the pain when the cycle happens naturally with an alpha.”

Johnny’s brows furrow as he rests his hand over yours, your breaths stuttering through your sobs. Your hands are clutching at the blanket, one of yours he’d grabbed from your room in hopes the familiar comfort might help you through the process. He hates that you’re in pain like this, he hates that you’re in pain at all. He’s beginning to feel the bubbling anger deep in his stomach at Simon for letting you endure this. He has no idea. He’s isolated himself for your safety, and he’ll never get to see what this is like, what you’re going through right now.

Dr. Keller says your name softly, leaning against the side of the bed, electing to ignore the swirling emotions of her fellow beta. He’s not her concern, you are. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

You continue to cry, but you manage to get your eyes opened, squinting at her through your tears. Dr. Keller takes your face in her hands, using her thumbs to gently pull down your lower lids, trying to get a good look at your eyes. You try to jerk away, letting out possibly the cutest defiant sound Johnny has ever heard, and he might have reacted had it been a different situation. Instead he leans over the side of the bed again, talking to you quietly so you calm a bit. You do relax at the sound of his voice, his scent projecting even more to try and comfort you, bring you back into reality.

“There we go.” Dr. Keller says, looking at your eyes before she gives you a soft smile. “Welcome back.” She removes her hands from your face leaning against the bed rail again. “It's all over. You did perfectly.”

You let out another groan, lifting a hand weakly before letting it drop back against your stomach.

“I know you're thirsty.” Dr. Keller says. “I'll get you some soon. We need to make sure your stomach has settled for now.”

Your eyes squeeze closed as you start to cry again, your inhales shaky as the tears start sliding down your cheeks. Johnny shushes you gently, petting your hair. Sweat still drips down your face, your hands curling around the edge of the blanket.

You try to push yourself up to sit, Dr. Keller immediately understanding what you need again as she lifts the vomit bag up to your mouth.

Johnny peels your hand from around the blanket, holding it tightly. His own stomach is churning but he swallows it back, bringing your hand up to his face. He kisses the back, the skin clammy and warm to the touch. Your scent is a swirl of things he’s never smelled before, drowning out the natural sweetness. Kyle had mentioned how your scent and John’s change during the heat and after. He hardly recognizes it right now, and he finds himself missing the sweet scent of strawberries.

Your fingers squeeze around his as you lay back against the bed, eyes cracked open and sniffling as the tears continue to slide down your cheeks. You let out a groan, tugging weakly at his hand.

“Hi kitten.” He says, leaning over the bed rail again. “Yer alright. Get ye feeling better soon.”

Your inhale is shaky, catching in your chest. You weakly tug his hand towards your face pressing your sweaty cheek against his skin. You nuzzle against his hand, your tongue darting out to lick his skin. He can't help but chuckle, wiping at a tear that falls with his thumb. You’re still out of it, but he knows that’s a sign that you’re starting to come through, starting to come back to yourself through the haze.

You let out a long groan as you pull away from his hand, licking at your lips. They're horribly chapped, almost rivaling Simon's, but at least you have an excuse.

“Thirsty?” Dr. Keller asks, returning to the bedside with a cup of water. “Drink slowly, you'll get sick again.” She warns, holding the straw up to your lips.

You manage to do as she says and take small sips of the water despite how thirsty he knows you must be. Johnny keeps caressing your face with his thumb, your fingers still laced with his.

“Let me get your vitals.” Dr. Keller says, setting the cup of water on the table. You let out a groan in protest, smacking your lips, obviously wanting more. “You can have more in a minute. Too much on your stomach could upset it, and I’m sure the last thing you want to do right now is get sick again.”

You let out a quiet grunt, leaning your cheek against his hand once again. Your skin is still a bit warm to the touch, but that could just be from the exertion of trying to come out of sedation and being sick. Dr. Keller takes your vitals once more, recording them on her sheet. She’s been tracking them your entire heat, using them to judge how far along you are since she doesn’t have the benefit of you being awake to track the symptoms that way. He had wondered why she tracked them on paper, but then he remembered John telling him about how Shepherd had requested all of your private records and Dr. Keller’s notes.

She is smart. He’ll give her that.

“Things look good, even if you might not feel like it right now.” She says.

You try to shift on the bed but you let out a quiet groan, freeing your hand from his.

“Hurting?” Dr. Keller asks.

You nod, letting out a whine. It tickles in the back of his brain, his beta wanting to reach out and comfort you, but he knows he can’t. He can’t ease the physical pain. One downside to beta evolution. Their ancestors never learned how to fix physical pain. Maybe that would have made them too perfect. All he can do is try to comfort you through it.

“Let's get some pain meds in you.” She says, pulling the syringe out of her pocket again. “Then we can get you somewhere more comfortable.”

She injects the pain medicine through your IV, giving it a few minutes to begin working before disconnecting you from all the machines. Johnny helps her get you in a sweatshirt, wanting to keep you warm. You are shaking, though what that might be related to he’s not sure. Perhaps everything.

Dr. Keller hands him the cup of water. “Keep her drinking. I'll go grab a car, then we can get her back to the barracks.”

You feel far too light in Johnny’s arms as he carries you from the car into the barracks. Simon is nowhere to be seen, though he hadn’t expected a welcome back party from his alpha. He’s probably still hiding out in his office, or in the gym, his usual hiding spot. Johnny is kind of glad he’s not here, though he would like to rub it in his face, the decision he’d made.

Johnny takes you to his room, still avoiding yours. It’s almost like a crime scene, Johnny tempted to take it off. He knows placing you in there might make you panic when you wake up after everything. That’s the last thing he wants. So instead he takes you to the place you’ve spent the last almost six weeks in, somewhere you’ll recognize the scent and be comfortable when you wake up.

You roll onto your side as soon as he lays you down, curling up on his blankets. He drapes yours over you, tucking it around your shoulders before he steps back out into the hallway.

“Keep her hydrated. Lots of water, tea, clear sodas.” Dr. Keller instructs him. “She'll be drowsy for a while because of the pain medicine. Give her a couple hours and once the pain meds wear off and her stomach settles a bit, try her with some bland foods. She did well with mashed potatoes after her last heat. She’s going to be out of it and sick for a few days. Keep an eye out for anything abnormal. Vomiting blood, can’t keep food down, if she complains about pain somewhere or is hard to wake, give me a call.”

“Got it.” Johnny nods, committing everything she’s told him in the last ten minutes to memory.

“You did really well.” She says, giving him a soft smile. “You should be proud of yourself.”

“Thank you, doctor.” He nods, internally beaming at her praise.

“Keep me updated, and don’t be afraid to call.” She says.

He watches her walk to the door, Simon’s door opening as soon as she’s gone. He at least looks guilty, like the shame is eating him alive. Johnny hasn’t seen him like this in a long time, not since he caused you to distress. It makes him a little too happy to see him in such a state.

“How is she?” He asks, not moving from in front of his door.

The sound of you vomiting into a vomit bag reaches their ears. Simon at least has the decency to flinch at the sound. It’s subtle, probably unnoticeable had Johnny not been able to read his alpha like a book.

“Sick.” He says, trying to hide his anger and disappointment. They’re complex feelings. He knew Simon would turn you down if you asked for his own reasons, but now after seeing what happens when there’s no alpha available during a heat, he almost hates Simon for doing this to you. “Confused. Still a bit out of it.”

“You know I couldn’t do it.” Simon says, using that uncanny ability to read everyone around him.

Johnny hates it sometimes.

He turns to glance at you through his open door as you continue to be sick. You’re going to be miserable for the next few days, likely more than you are usually after your heats. This one will be less physical pain after taking knots for a week straight, and more pain from being sedated, pain from being mostly immobile, pain from just being alive and carrying this status. Such pain omegas live with, physically, mentally, emotionally.

He hates it.

“Ye don’t know what it was like.” He says, his hands closing into fists. “Seeing her like that.”

You let out a long whine, a sob tearing from your chest as you inhale. Tears prick behind Johnny’s eyes as he holds Simon’s gaze. “Ye just had to say no.” He shakes his head, turning to go back into his room.

He doesn't want to tell you. He can see the look on your face already. The disappointment. The pain. The agony. He can smell the souring of your scent already, the painful grief filling it and there will be nothing he can do to ease it. It's a rare moment they've left you alone in the last month and a half, forced to after a call with Kate and Shepherd.

He's not even sure how to approach it.

He opens his bedroom door slowly, his stomach clenching as he looks in at you. You're on the bed, wrapped in a blanket where he left you, cuddled against your big bear. He doesn't want to wake you, especially not for this but he has to. He has no choice. You have to know.

He lets out a sigh as he sinks down on the edge of his bed, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. “Kitten?” He shakes you gently. “Kitten, wake up.”

You inhale sharply, startling awake despite his attempt to be gentle. There’s a sharp spike of fear in your scent for a moment as you’re yanked from sleep suddenly, but it fades as soon as you realize where you are and who is with you. You turn over onto your back, winding up resting against his knee as you rub your eyes.

“Johnny?” You croak, still partly asleep.

“Si and I just got off a call with Kate.” He says carefully, not wanting to scare you too much.

You're wide awake immediately, pushing yourself up to sit. You swallow nervously, your scent already souring. “What is it?” Your voice wavers as you ask, eyes already shining with tears.

“John and Kyle are fine.” He says, regretting not starting with that. He can see the temporary relief on your face. “But, they need some backup for this one.”

It takes a moment for your brain to process his words. A hole tears through the center of his chest as he watches the realization hit, your face falling as your scent begins to sour even more. Your arms wrap around yourself as you stare at him, the relief gone from your face as you stare at him. He swallows the lump in his own throat, your scent causing his beta to stir, the drive to comfort you itching in his brain. He can’t though, he can’t comfort you through this.

Your voice shakes, a tear sliding down your cheek as you figure out what it is he woke you to say, why Kate had called. Your inhale is shaky, catching in your chest before you speak.

“You're both leaving too, aren’t you.”

NEXT ->

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#call of duty #call of duty fic #task force 141 x reader #poly 141 x reader #tf141 x reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #a/b/o #omegaverse

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yumeka-sxf · 3 months ago

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Was not expecting a Yuri/Yor chapter, but it was a pleasant surprise! First thing I want to mention is the fact that Yor is not wearing her usual Thorn Princess earrings, but instead has rose earrings similar to the button on her red blouse.

I could be wrong, but I believe this is the first time we've seen her with different earrings. Perhaps it's an indication that she's feeling more "at ease" as far as her relationship with her Thorn Princess identity, since we know that her usual earrings function as weapons if needed. Maybe she doesn't feel as much of a need to be "on guard" all the time as she used to be.

As for the bulk of this chapter, it featured great character development for the Briar siblings. What stood out to me the most is how hard it is for Yuri to understand that Yor's happiness truly does come from the happiness of others, plus the fact that she has very few desires for herself, especially materialistic ones that can be bought at a store. It's hard for him to grasp because he spent his whole life watching her selflessly sacrifice her own childhood to take care of the both of them, so he feels he has to overcompensate. But again, because he can't fathom that she actually enjoys taking care of others, the only explanation he can come up with for her lack of wanting things for herself is that the Forgers are "controlling" her somehow (also due to his own bias, lol).

It was amusing how Yuri's attempts to frame Loid and Anya as "brainwashing" Yor failed miserably...it only served to highlight how much she cares about them, especially Anya. I loved the below panel ❤️ She's such a mom.

By the way, this next panel cracked me up the most 🤣 I was curious what the "go at it" part was in the Japanese version, and it turns out to be the verb 絡む ("karamu"). It has several meanings, but mainly it means "to be entangled with" either with physical things like vines or wires, but also to be entangled with a person in a problematic way, such as by quarreling. I can only imagine how Yuri interpreted this 😂

In the latter part of the chapter, Yor finally made it clear to Yuri that he doesn't need to keep pitying her. She states that she enjoyed the time she spent taking care of him, and whatever negative feelings she had after he left her are in the past, so he doesn't have to keep trying to compensate for it.

For a brief moment, Yuri daydreams about the two of them going back to their hometown to live peaceful lives before ultimately realizing that they have responsibilities in the city that they can't just abandon. The emphasis on their respective "real" jobs that they can't reveal to each other, plus the later scene of Yuri lamenting that he feels distant from Yor because he can't show her who he's really become, definitely gave me a feeling of foreboding. Plus the fact that the chapter ends with him possibly being assigned a new job.

Even though the rest of the Forgers didn't appear in this chapter, we did get this precious little panel when Yuri was musing about why he feels so lonely. So thank you for this Yuri and your rolodex wheel of anxious thoughts 😂

I think it's still too soon for any kind of big, story-shattering reveal, but I feel like Yuri's next assignment could be something akin to the mole hunt arc, where something big almost happens...the fandom focuses a lot on a Twilight/Thorn Princess reveal, but a Briar sibling reveal would be just as major in my opinion, which is the vibe I got from this chapter. Since Yuri already had an encounter with Twilight, what if he had some kind of run-in with Garden next? 👀

...or maybe this was just a standalone chapter and we'll never find out what Yuri's next assignment is because it's not important and the next chapter will move on to something else 😅 I'd say it's 50/50 at this point, lol.

#spy x family #sxf #spy family #spyxfamily #yor forger #yuri briar #sxf spoilers #sxf manga #sxf manga spoilers

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bruhstories · 6 months ago

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Bet II

p.1 here & p3. here & p.4 here & p.5 here & p.6 here

summary: it's your first day as a cat sitter and things are going more than well. but will they stay that way? pairing: hwang in-ho/the front man x civilian!reader warnings & content: age gap, afab!reader, slightly detailed descriptions of reader’s background for plot purposes, red text for in-ho, purple for reader, pre 33rd squid game, canon divergent, mentions of domestic violence, veeeery slow burn, reader is an orphan w/c: 2.2k

a/n: hiii, this is pretty much reader's pov, but don't worry, we'll see things through in-ho's eyes in chapter 3! if you would like to be tagged for the next part, please check this post.

You woke up at five in the morning on the first day of your temporary job. It took you about fifteen minutes to walk to the bus stop, and another fifteen to get to Gangnam-gu by bus, but you needed to prepare breakfast for your uncle first. The last thing you wanted was to anger him. You washed a cup of rice and tossed it in the rice cooker before slicing some pickled radish and a fresh cucumber and carrot. While waiting for the rice to cook, you fried some tofu that you had marinated in gochujang the night before.

Around six you woke your uncle up with the bowl of bibimbap and a cup of freshly brewed coffee, but didn't stay long enough to hear him tell you off about how bad his coffee tasted, or how cold the rice was, all completely false statements. It was just the way your life was since your father passed away and your mother left the country. But you couldn't afford your own place, and you probably wouldn't any time soon, so you took odd jobs to stay away from him and pay his stupid debts.

You made it just in time for Eunjoo's breakfast, stepping through the door at 6:50. There was no cat in sight yet, but the moment you opened the food can, Eunjoo peeked from around the sofa, silently sneaking behind you, apprehensive about rubbing against your leg. She waited next to the water bowl as you scooped the food out and mashed it with the spoon, then bent down to place her plate on the silicone mat on the floor.

It was only after you got back up that you noticed the mess in Mr. Hwang's penthouse. There were so many dishes in the sink, empty bottles of beer scattered on the dining table, an ashtray full of cigarette butts, takeaway boxes stacked on the countertop, a half-full coffee cup, tissues on the floor. You definitely remembered that his house was clean when you first visited him. Too clean, even, like he suffered from mysophobia. You had a lot to do in that house. And then there was Eunjoo, who, for some reason, refused to eat her breakfast despite sitting patiently next to her ceramic plate, tail curled around her paws.

Panic seeped into your veins as you urged the cat to eat, crouching next to her in hopes that she only needed a little encouragement, but Eunjoo stood her ground. You didn't know what to do, the mess was overwhelming and you frantically paced around the kitchen like a headless hen, not knowing what to do first — wash the dishes, take out the trash, force feed the cat. As though Mr. Hwang could see you, your phone vibrated with a text from him.

Good morning. Sorry about the mess, I had a little gathering last night before my trip. Is everything alright? In-ho

A little gathering? He had a full-blown party! Maybe it was his birthday, or he had a bachelor party. But the mess wasn't important, Eunjoo was. You quickly saved his number in your contacts list and typed a reply.

Morning! Don't worry about the mess, I'll deal with it later. Eunjoo's not eating, though. Should I take her to the vet? She seems healthy, but I’m worrying.

You waited for his text while sitting on the floor, one hand extended for the cat to sniff it. She did, then went back to her plate, simply looking at you, staring directly into your soul with bright green eyes.

Ding!

Oh, I forgot to mention that she only eats breakfast and dinner when I do. You're going to have to eat something. There's plenty of food in the fridge.

Well, that changed things. You typically had one meal a day since most of the food back home was eaten by your uncle, and you didn't want to pry into Mr. Hwang's fridge and pantry. Rummaging through your backpack, you found a half-eaten bag of shrimp crackers and shrugged. It was good enough for you if it meant she ate.

"My food." You told Eunjoo while holding the bag, giving it a small shake. "Your food." You pointed at her plate.

As if she could understand your words, Eunjoo turned to her breakfast while you munched on the crackers, nibbling on them slowly to save some for later. God only knew when you could have some more food. When her plate was empty, you twisted the bag of remaining snacks and put it back into your backpack before getting up from the tiled floor.

"Okay." You told yourself. "First thing's first — scoop the poop."

There were two litter boxes in the penthouse, one in the guest bathroom and one in the en-suite. You checked both without paying much attention to your surroundings, and threw away all the clumps of pee and litter, then turned the TV on to play some music. You started off strong with some upbeat songs, a little rock, a bit of pop. Your father raised you on international music. Queen, in particular, was his favourite band, and so your playlist was full of their songs.

Don't Stop Me Now was perfect for doing the dishes. First, you put away all the dry plates and cutlery before emptying the sink. You didn't even bother trying to turn on the dishwasher, your hands worked better and faster, and with the speed of light, like Freddie Mercury sang, you finished washing all the dishes. Each time you rinsed a plate, you turned the tap off, careful not to waste any water. If there was one good thing about not being rich, it was that you learned to truly care about the environment, and tried your best to fight climate change. But you weren’t perfect. No one was. There were skeletons in your closet.

As the song came to an end, you tackled the takeaway boxes. You found the bin and threw away any leftover bits of food that were inedible, saving the cardboard boxes for recycling, along with the beer bottles. The penthouse was looking better by the minute, and after wiping the table and countertop, vacuuming and mopping the floor, you took your phone out and snapped a picture for Mr. Hwang.

Kitchen and dining room done!

You pressed send and checked the time — 9:00. Shit, your other job was starting soon. Hastily, you turned the TV off, rinsed Eunjoo's water bowl and filled it with fresh water before checking the automatic feeder. It was still half-full, so you put your shoes on and left with the recyclables and trash bag.

"I'll be back tonight, kitty!"

The bin room was easy to find, and satisfied with the work you did, you went back to Guryong Village, where you taught Ali Abdul and his wife Korean. They couldn't afford to pay you, but when they could, they fed you, and that was all that mattered. It was the only meal you didn't need to share with your uncle, and it was more than enough to keep you going through the day.

At 12:00 you took two buses to Lotte World, where you worked part-time as a mascot, from one to seven, boiling in the purple bear suit. You didn't mind it when you saw how happy the children were, though. Their smiles and happiness mattered more than how uncomfortable you felt, and on the bright side, it kept you very warm in winter. You had to look for positives, didn't you? Life wouldn't be enjoyable if all you did was focus on the negativity and unfairness of it. And life had been nothing but cruel to you. Yet, you persevered.

You left the theme park at 7:15 and took the bus back to Gangnam-gu, drenched in sweat. The cold November air made you shiver under the coat as you stepped down the street, making your way to Mr. Hwang's penthouse for the second time that day. Kicking your shoes off, you kept the coat, because the apartment was chilly, and you tried to find the thermostat before feeding Eunjoo.

Good evening! I hope your trip is going well! It's getting quite cold and I was wondering if I could turn the heating on, more for Eunjoo than for me.

When there was no reply, you shrugged and opened a can of food, placing the plate on the mat, like you did in the morning, then took out a food container from your bag with leftover chicken karahi from Mrs. Abdul. She was kind enough to give you more, and you took out a plate from Mr. Hwang's kitchen to heat it in the microwave.

Eunjoo ate when you did, as she did in the morning, and you found it interesting that she didn't immediately dig in like your cousin's cat used to do. She had good manners, you thought with a smile. The food warmed you up a bit, and you washed the plate and chopsticks after you were done, but the warmth was soon replaced by a chill running down your spine. You had to start layering up for winter.

Ding!

Good evening, miss. My apologies for not replying quicker, work is hectic. Please turn the heating on and stay the night to make sure Eunjoo is warm.

Oh, that was straightforward. You chuckled at the text, but you couldn't stay the night. Instead, you walked back to the thermostat and searched the brand online to set a timer. You tested it first to make sure it worked, and when it did, you set the heating on every 3 hours. It should be enough for Eunjoo to stay warm.

I appreciate it, sir, but I can't stay over. My uncle would be upset. I put the timer on and it works, I checked. I'll send you a picture after I scoop the poop and tidy up.

You sent the text and inspected the litter boxes. Eunjoo had the stinkiest poops you had ever sniffed, and as you scooped it out of the box, you couldn't help but talk to her. She was watching you from the corner of the guest bathroom, pupils blown at every movement you made, studying you.

"Girl, this is foul." You laughed, tying up the small bin bag. "Is it even normal for your shit to reek like this?"

Eunjoo lost interest in you when you were done with her box and ran under the bed in Mr. Hwang's bedroom, while you walked back into the kitchen, dropping the bin bag next to your shoes. You filled a tall glass with water and searched for all the plants in the house, stopping at a small cactus in the living room.

When was the last time you watered the cactus?

Ding!

You got the reply quicker than you expected. It usually took In-ho a few minutes to get back to you, but you read it and laughed.

I don't remember.

Typical for men to forget, you thought as you watered the plant.

Ding!

Another text? You took your phone out and read it.

Why would your uncle be upset?

The question soured your mood, and you took a few steps back to sit on the edge of the sofa. It wasn't a subject you liked to talk about. In fact, it was a subject you refused to talk about, but Mr. Hwang had been nothing but kind to you, and you felt like you owed him an explanation. No, you felt compelled to give him an explanation, as though you couldn’t just tell him to mind his business.

He took me in after my dad died. He can be quite strict. It's not that I have to go back home, but if he doesn't have breakfast and a coffee when he wakes up, he'll tell me off.

Okay, so you didn't exactly explain your situation. Mr. Hwang didn't need to know all the details, all the beatings and all the insults, all the money he took from you to pay his debts. But hey, at least you had a roof over your head, right?

You washed Eunjoo's plate and water bowl and left them to dry while sorting out In-ho's laundry — whites with whites, blacks with blacks. There weren’t many colourful clothes, which you thought was normal for a man his age. You were going to wash them in the morning, but you worked smart and hard, and so you wanted them to be ready for the next day. Loading the machine with the whites, you made sure Eunjoo didn't sneak in it and closed the door, then took a shower in the guest bathroom.

Just as you promised, you brought your own soap and towel, and let the hot water wash away the dirt and dust accumulated throughout the day. It felt good not having to boil water to wash yourself, and you made a mental note to thank Mr. Hwang somehow when he returned from his trip. Perhaps you could cook him a meal and buy a new toy for Eunjoo, although she didn’t seem very playful, at least not when you were around. Stepping out of the bathroom with the towel wrapped around your body, you took a moment to enjoy being able to walk around half-naked with no one to disturb you.

Thank you for letting me take a shower. Eunjoo is sleeping, the plants have been watered, and I’m ready to go home. Good night, Mr. Hwang!

tagging: @ri1liane @anmert1 @syraxnyra @frshluvcats @lanyia @mettreads @nightdark-dreamdark @bridge-always @nomugglesallowed @awekbachira @hobiesbrowngf @lovekm @audrey223 @ririgy @starkeyszn @thoughtfulbelieverstrawberry @maria-trisha @akiqvq @10hrs26mn @tenzko @okaycharr @politicstanner @moonxknightx @googie-jeon @swthrtbyeol @mariiestfu @ratsnestinmyhair

i hope i didn't miss anyone or tagged the wrong people lmaooo

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kilojulietsierra · 3 months ago

Text

Send Me An Angel - Chapter Two (Dr Jack Abbot x nursewife!ofc)

Summary : What do you do after a night like that?

If you missed Chapter One CLICK HERE

(Seriously, I can’t thank y’all enough for the love that chapter one received! Made my whole week!)

Warnings: 18+ content, depiction of a PTSD episode/panic attack, also depiction of two people who love each other handling the situation appropriately, angst, fluff, smut, just a tiny hint of kink mentioned if you know where to look (competency, d/s role play), dark humor, heathy communication, they talk a little shit but they love each other so much

~~~~~~~

The Next Day

Sam knelt down in front of the woman in the wheelchair, "Ok hon, that should kick in here in a second and you'll feel better okay?"

The woman nodded, her whole body still trembled, but her breaths were a little more even. "Thank," she gasped in a breath with a stutter, "You."

"Of course." Sam gave her hand a squeeze and stood up, "Keep breathing okay, deep breaths, and we'll have you out of here soon." She looked over the lacerations on her leg one more time before she moved on.

Bridget met her in the hallway, and they exchanged a look as they both surveyed the ED. "We're starting to get 'em cleared out."

Sam nodded as she snapped her gloves off. The whole department was still a disaster, dozens of patients remained and the EVS staff was busy mopping up as much of the blood as they could. "What else do you need?"

The night shift charge nurse, put her hands on her hips, "I need you to go home."

"There's still…"

"Honey, you don't even work here. They have a relief shift coming in, they'll be here by seven. Go home."

"Did Dana get out of here?" Sam asked as she stripped off her trauma gown and shoved it in one of the overflowing bins.

"I sent her home too, every nurse on the floor now is night shift. Students are gone, I even saw Abbot walk Robby out earlier." Bridget wasn't going to back down.

With a glance at her watch she saw it was in fact almost 7am. "Let me help 'till next shift comes in."

The two nurses stared each other down. Bridgett sighed, "You are the worst." She said it with a smile though, "I have Tina and Shad making a lap to check IVs, you can help with that."

Which is exactly what she was doing at 7:33am when Jack found her. "Let's go home."

She looked over her shoulder and then back to the kid in the gurney, "They are gonna come get you in a bit okay." When the kid nodded she gave him a smile and turned around to see Jack. "How are you doing?" She wanted to reach out and touch him but restrained herself.

He nodded, looked her up and down and nodded again, "Relief shift is here. Let's go home."

Sam nodded and went to follow him down the hall.

Bridgett met them at the counter and before she could say anything Jack held up a hand, "We're going. Which means you are too." He gave her a pointed look.

She snorted out a laugh, like she hadn't been trying for half an hour to get him to leave. "Right behind you."

Jack held an arm out to wrap her in a one armed hug. "Go home and get some sleep. Give the kids a hug."

"Mhmm." She wrapped her own arm around his middlle and squeezed. Then she moved to Sam and the two of them exchanged a hug of their own. "Love you, sweetie."

"Love you too." Sam held onto the hug a little longer. "Thank you for always taking care of him." She whispered.

Bridgett hummed and gave her another squeeze, "You know it."

When they pulled apart Jack was standing to the side with his backpack on one shoulder, and hers in his hand. "Ready?"

"Yeah." She grabbed her pack from him, "You grab the duffles?

"There in there. Night Bridge."

"Good night." She called after them as they headed for the ambulance bay.

It was jarring to see the nurses and doctors that had just arrived, not covered in blood, no goggles, no trauma gowns, just ready to work a regular-ish shift.

When Sam went to take the corner Jack grabbed the back of her scrub top and pulled her towards him.

"I had to park in visitor parking."

He just tugged her again and held out his hand, "We'll come get it later." Sam blinked and after a moment nodded. She smiled and let him take her hand. Jacks face was still stoic, but he gave her hand a squeeze and led her out to the MD parking lot.

As they approached the truck he dug the keys out of his pocket and hit the remote start, then pulled Sam's bag off her shoulder. While she walked around to the passenger side he tossed their stuff in the back seat. "Don't even think about it." He called to her as he saw her move to open the passenger door.

She made a face at him when he came around to open her door for her. Rather than say anything she just stepped up and gave him a kiss, then climbed inside.

~~~~~

Jack held her hand the whole drive home and didn't let go until he had parked the truck. The drive home had been silent except for the music. When they got inside they undressed in the laundry room in silence and climbed into the shower together in silence.

One of the things Jack had always appreciated about Sam was that the silence was never awkward or uncomfortable. It never had been. He found just as much pleasure, just as much comfort in her company regardless if either of them had anything to say or not.

At some point Sam had leaned back into him, her eyes closed and her skin flushed from the scalding hot water, and he wrapped his arms around her. It had been quiet for so long he almost felt bad to be the one that broke the silence. So, he tipped his head to the side and kept his voice soft and low as he spoke beside her ear, "Want me to help wash your hair, or want me to go find us something to eat?"

Sam groaned, conflicted by the choices he had offered, "Both?"

He chuckled, pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, "Gotta pick one." Then let his chin rest against her shoulder while he waited for her answer.

She took her time, apparanently more content to stand under the hot water and simply exist.

Jack smirked, too tired to smile, and kissed her bare shoulder, "Pick or I will."

His wife just groaned and grumbled again, let more of her weight settle against him.

"Ok," He kissed her shoulder, her temple, allowed himself one selfish caress of his hands over her naked body and told her, "Stay here long as you need to. I'll go make some dinner."

~~~~

When Sam had finally drug herself out of the shower, she threw on a pair of shorts and one of Jacks hoodies, and headed into the kitchen. She found Jack there shirtless in a pair of sweats with his back to her as he made two plates of spaghetti. Before she went into the kitchen she took a second to stop and be grateful for him. The reasons why where too many for her brain to process at that moment, but she was beyond grateful for him. Every day, but especially today.

"Quit staring, come eat."

She smiled and joined him to eat at the counter. As always Jack cleared his plate like it would disappear if he didn't. Something that he'd never grown out of even after more than a decade out of the Army. His choice of second career just as inhospitable to sit down meals as his first. For awhile he sat there with her, then got up and tidied up the kitchen and the small mess he'd made.

When Sam still hadn't finished her plate he grabbed his phone and kissed her on the top of her head as he walked by, "I told Robby I'd call when we got home."

Sam nodded and went back to her food. Chose not to acknowledge outloud that the call was a thinly veiled check in. He'd made a threat, or a promise, to Robby on the roof of the hospital early that morning. "I'm going to call you when I get home, and you better fucking answer."

~~~~~

By the time they made it to bed Jack threw the covers back and dropped into the middle of the mattress with a groan, "Jesus Christ, I'm getting too old for this."

Sam went to the closet and stripped the hoodie off over head and traded it for a UC Davis t-shirt. She didn't respond to him right away. Instead she shut the closet and sat on the foot of the bed. She sat there a long time, only half turned towards him, mostly her gaze stayed on her hands, "Am I a bad person?"

Jack groaned again as he turned on his side, propped up on an elbow, "Not usually." He waited for her to look his way, to give him some sarcastic remark, but she did neither. "Can I have some context?

She took a breath, still didn't look his way, but she did turn a little closer towards him, "Tonight was… a terrible thing. I'm exhausted… but, part of me… part of me feels like a shitty person…" She couldn't finish the thought out loud. She didn't need to.

"Felt good didn't it?" Jack kept his voice soft, compassionate. "It felt good to be knee deep in the shit again. To have a different life literally in the palm of your hands every five minutes. Down and dirty, think on your feet medicine. Save this guy, if you can't save this guy then save the next one." He paused to study her face closely, tried again to catch her eye. "To be one of the ones keeping your shit together, when people around you are spinning out."

When she looked up at him finally her eyes were a little glassy, but he knew she wouldn't cry.

"No Sam, you're not a bad person. You're someone that thrives in that chaos, and that is an incredible thing." He reached for her shirt and gave it a gentle tug, "C'mere."

She stared at him for a minute and then moved. First she stretched to switch off the light and then she rolled onto her side to cuddle up as close as physically possible to her husband.

He wrapped her up in his arms and pulled the blankets up over them. Jack tugged her closer, guided her leg over his and tucked her head against his chest. With his left hand he traced aimless patterns over her lower back and with the right he held her hand over his chest. Where they could both feel the steady rhythm of his heart. After a minute he added, "That was one of the first things I found sexy about you."

When she scoffed and pressed a kiss to his chest he knew he had her back from that dark place.

She chuckled a little bit and her fingers flexed over his chest, "Is it bad that I found it sexy watching you do that field crike on the cop?"

Jack smiled and tipped his head towards her, "Is it bad I think it's sexy that you found that sexy?"

That earned him a giggle and it was like suddenly they could both breath again. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and she snuggled close as they settled in to try and get some sleep. It didn't take long before Sam broke the silence again, her voice a little softer, "Jack?"

"Hmm?"

"Can you, can we keep talking? It feels good to talk?"

He gave her a squeeze and moved his right hand down to stroke over her thigh where it was hitched over his. "Something specific?"

Fingers tracing patterns on his chest she hummed, "No, just… listen to you talk." She sounded almost sheepish.

So, he talked. He started with arriving at the hospital and then talked through each patient he saw, one by one. What they came in with, how they treated it. The whole time her fingers flexed against his bare chest, her thumb stroked back and forth as she listened.

Jack smiled to himself eventually. "DId you hear one of the med students IOed a guy while he was awake and talking?"

"Like on purpose?"

"Yep."

"Ohhh, no…poor kid."

"Poor guy that got drilled in the arm you mean." He pinched her thigh. "Then the Santos girl did fucking Reboa on her own."

"Yeah I heard that, and I heard you gave her an 'atta girl'."

"Like you never stepped out of your depths to save a patient."

"This isn't Afghanistan."

He paused before he responded, "Felt a little like it tonight." Jack pulled her thigh higher up over his waist and held her there, "I think she's got what it takes though, Santos, just needs reined in a little."

"Oh, gee wonder who has a favorite already?" She teased him. "Samira's got it too."

"Yeah she does." He nodded and twisted his head to look down at her, "Worst fucking circumstances," Jack started as he moved the arm around her up so he could play with her hair, "But it was fun to work with you tonight." He kissed the top of her forehead.

Sam tipped her head up to look at him, "Yeah it was," She moved her hand up to his jaw, "Forgot I was married to a badass for a minute there."

Jack huffed out a laugh and closed the distance between them. "Damn right you are." He kissed her even a she rolled her eyes. He pulled back just enough to speak, "So am I." He kissed her softer and slower. "Should get some sleep baby."

"Ok." Her answer was a whisper against his lips and she smiled when Jack kissed her again, "Love you."

"Love you too."

Sam woke up a few hours later with a start, her heart racing and her chest tight, she had to fight to breathe and clear her head. In the split second between asleep and awake she felt Jack jerk in bed beside her and then sit bolt upright. That was when she realized what had startled her awake. "Jack, babe… hey, it's okay."

Jack kicked at the blankets, sucking in air and shaking, one hand clutched as his chest, as his whole body trembled.

"Oh fuck, Jack, hey listen to me." She sat up on her knees and moved to his side of the bed as fast as she could and off the edge to kneel on the floor in front of him.

"Fuck," He was sucking in air, in shallow, uneven, breaths that rattled his chest and he repeated the curse over and over, "Fuck. Fuck."

"Hey, baby i'm right here." Knelt on the floor in front of him she braced one hand on his thigh as it nearly vibrated under her touch, "Jack. Jack, listen to me, look at me okay." His eyes jumped over the room all around them, but never to her. "You're home. You are home, with me, right?" She gave him an exaggerated nod and put her other hand over his on his chest where it still clawed over his sternum like if he tried hard enough he could rip a hole in his chest to breath.

Sam swallowed thick, her mouth dry and her own chest still tight. "You're safe, you're home, with me. You have to breathe. Right? Have to slow down and breathe baby."

He finally gave her a nod and tried for a shaky breath but he almost immediatly started to hyperventilate again as he started to rock back and forth on the bed.

"Hey… hey, hey, hey, nope. Deep and slow, right? Deep and slow?"

He lurched forward and Sam panicked briefly that he might be sick, but clung to the feeling of one of his hands as it wrapped around the back of her neck. "I'm right here, right here, with you. You're home. We are home. You're not there. You're here." She said it over and over again in the softest, calmest voice she could muster, as she moved closer to him and cupped the back of his head and brought it down to her shoulder. Careful to leave some distance, she'd learned the hard way, he could sit up suddenly and catch her in the face. Which hurt like hell and made him feel guilty later.

"You're right here with me, just gotta breathe Jack. Okay? Breathe." Sam drew in a long, deep, audible, breath through her nose as she counted in her head; 1,2,3,4. Then she held that breath and blew it out through pursed lips. Strong and steady to the same count; 1,2,3,4.

The whole time she stroked her fingers through his hair and continued to breathe with him, give him the rythym to follow.

In, 1,2,3,4. Hold, 1,2,3,4. Out, 1,2,3,4 Hold, 1,2,3,4

She felt and heard him fight for it. Fight for the air, for the control over his own mind and body.

She began to count it out loud for him, her voice soothing but firm in his ear.

In, 1,2,3,4. Hold, 1,2,3,4. Out, 1,2,3,4 Hold, 1,2,3,4

Jack spit out a shaky, 'Fuck…me…" His grip on the back of her neck tightened and released through the tremors.

"You're good baby, you got this. Just breath for me, you got this."

His trembling had slowed, his breathing had regulated some. Progress. Sam moved her hand from his hair down to the base of his skull and began to tap out the count and breathe along with him. In. Tap, tap, tap, tap. Hold. Tap, tap, tap, tap. Out. Tap, tap, tap, tap.

"I'm, sh-, shit." He fought through a breath, "I'm," His whole body racked with a tremor. "Fuck, I'm sorry." His voice was strained, painful even. "I'm s-sorry."

"Stop that. You're fine, you got this. We got this. Just keep breathing."

He nodded against her shoulder, his body still trembled almost constantly, but each breath got him closer and closer.

Sam didn't relax until she felt the majority of her husbands weight collapse against her and he let out what sounded like the last of the shaky breaths.

"Hey, you with me?" She whispered it into his ear and finally took a deep breath of her own when his fingers relaxed at the back of her neck and what had been a death grip softened to a gentle caress.

"I'm sorry, Sam. Baby…I'm sorry." Another shaky breath as he sat up straight. "Jesus…" He shoved a hand back through his hair. "Came out of nowhere."

Sam watched, still knelt on the floor in front of him, as his hand reached up to rub over the scar on his left shoulder. A nervous tick that he kept such a lock on that she would be the only one to recognize it. "Don't say sorry." She stroked her hand up and down his thigh in long firm strokes in an attempt to keep him steady, keep him grounded. "What you did today, what you had to do today," She ducked her head to try and catch his gaze in the dark of their room, "Of course it hits home."

He looked at her, hand still rubbed over the scar over and over again. "I was fine. Everything was fine."

"I know." She stood and stepped between his legs so she could tip his face up towards hers. "What do you need now?"

Jack didn't respond right away, he looked exhausted all the sudden.

"What time is it?"

"It's early yet," She glanced at the clock, "Not even noon."

He nodded, scrubbed at his face for a second, "You have to work tonight." When he looked up at her he looked sad, like he'd let her down somehow.

Sam shook her head, "I traded with Remi, for next Saturday. They're going to take the kids to the lake. I'm off all weekend." The relief on his face both made her heart flutter and broke it a little. "Let's go back to bed."

Almost immediately he shook his head, "No, I'm not going to be able to sleep."

"Okay, well, go take a quick shower," He was drenched in sweat, "And then we can go watch TV or something."

With a nod Jack stood up which brought them close together and she kept her hands on his face. He looked like he wanted to say something.

"Do you want your phone? Call Shane or TJ?" More than once she'd had to make a call on his phone in the middle of the night, her hand trembling, so one of his battle buddies could talk him down when she couldn't. More than once they'd woken up to his phone when it rang in the middle of the night so he could do the same for one of them.

Jack shook his head, "No, no I'm good." Still a little shaky as the adrenaline dumped out of his system, he put his hands on her waist and stared over her shoulder at the wall. "Just, give me a minute."

"Ok. I'll go make some coffee."

~~~~~

It was the middle of the afternoon, but the house was dark. They'd left the blackout curtains drawn so the only source of light was the TV on the wall as it played whatever show Sam had put on before she dozed off on the couch beside him. He honestly wasn't sure what it was, she knew he didn't care, that he just needed the distraction.

She shifted a little under the blanket, her legs stretched across his lap and her face buried in a throw pillow. Part of him wished he could go back to sleep like her. He'd spent the first twelve minutes on the couch with her feet in his lap, one thumb stroking back and forth over the arch of her foot while he stared blankly at the TV. It had calmed him down some, enough, and it had put her to sleep.

Jack shook his head and tried to focus on the show. He hated the feeling of the imbalance, the aftermath. It was like his thoughts were marbles on a perpetually rocking surface and he had no control over either.

Sam shifted again, "How are you feeling?" Her voice was soft and sleepy.

At first he just nodded, knew that anyone but her would see the scowl on his face and leave it alone. Then he rubbed a hand over his eyes and nodded again, "Better." He gave her calf a squeeze through the blanket. "Why don't you go back to bed."

"Comfy here." There was no hesitation in her response and she twisted slightly so she could see him better. "Need anything?"

He shook his head. Then for the first time since the day before he thought about the young vet, how he'd ended up on the roof of the hospital. He took a deep breath, his voice quieter, "The vet I lost, yesterday, the drunk driver hit and run victim. He was the same age as you." He didn't know why it mattered. He didn't know if he'd even registered it at the time.

She was quiet for a long minute, "I'm right here Jack."

He moved his hands under the blanket so he could feel her skin, warm and smooth, under his hands. He set one hand on her ankle, searched out that faint thrum of a pulse, and the other brushed lightly up her calf then down again. "I know."

For long enough he thought she might have dozed off his wife was silent. Then she let out a little laugh, "You know what I always think of? When we sit like this."

"In Kandahar when I'd go sneak into your hooch?" He gave her an honest grin at the memory.

"Mhmm. Every chance you got." She hummed happily and gave him one of her sleepy little smiles.

"Blame me?" He gave her a smile of his own and shifted on the couch so he could stretch out behind her.

She shuffled around for a minute until she could make room for him and then he pulled the blanket over them both.

He pulled her back, flush with his chest and wrapped his arms around her tight. Once she was settled she chuckled softly. "What?" Jack squeezed her tight and buried his face in the back of her neck.

"Just thinnking. Imagining if I could go back and tell 22 year old me that she does get to marry the sexy Army medic with the pretty eyes and the angry face." She giggled a little then continued, "That he loves her and treats her so much better than she'd ever imagined and she's going to be so fucking happy."

For a moment that tight feeling in his chest returned. but it was not the PTSD this time. He had to swallow a couple of times before he could respond without a lump in his throat and when he did he mumered it so soft and earnest it felt like the first time, "I love you." He pressed his lips to the spot behind her ear and left a kiss there that made her shiver. "So fucking much."

~~~~~

He did fall back asleep, they both did, and when he finally woke up it was nearly midnight and the weight on his chest was long gone. The dread and the darkness at bay. They hadn't moved at all in their sleep. Sam was still wrapped up in his arms, her back to his chest. His shoulder ached from laying on it but he wouldn't move. He pressed his forehead into the back of hers and breathed deep and easy.

"Awake?" She sounded barely so herself, but her fingers curled over his forearm. It was like their internal clocks were synchronized, or that she was just so intune with him after all these years her body knew when he woke.

"Yeah baby." He squeezed her tight.

So tight that she let out a little groan and the breath of a giggle, "How you feel?"

"Good." He tipped his head to drop a kiss on top of her sleep tangled hair. "We slept a long time."

"Mhmm," She shifted and wiggled around closer to him and sunk deeper into his arms. "Felt good."

"Yes it did." He moved his free hand down to her hip and gave it a squeeze. Under the blanket his hand moved from her hip under the shirt she slept in. He stroked over her waist, her soft, smooth stomach and then up to cup her breast.

"Jack," She didn't stop him but her tone was clear.

He smirked, kissed the back of her head again as he swiped the pad of his thumb over her nipple, "Told you, I feel fine." Jack tipped his head so he could whisper into her ear, "Better than fine."

His wife hummed and then twisted around to look at him over her shoulder. She stared at him for a moment, studied him closely in the dark.

While she looked he pulled his hand out from under the blanket and moved it up to cup the side of her neck. "Sam, I'm fine." He traced his thumb up her throat, "Promise." He tipped her face up to give her a quick kiss. His thumb brushed over her pulse and he smirked when she arched up into it, "Trust me, I'm a doctor."

She rolled her eyes, "Oh, ok Doctor Abbot."

"Watch the tone." He kissed her again, "Nurse Abbot."

His wife laughed into the kiss and nipped at his top lip, "Don't push your luck." Sam moaned as his thumb pressed a little firmer on the next pass and she turned onto her back. She nearly melted into the couch as Jack continued to kiss and caress her.

HIs hand slid from her throat, over her chest and then pushed the blanket aside so he could reach more of her. Jack swept his tongue through her mouth and the sweet little groan it earned him went straight to his cock. He kissed her harder and deeper, slid one hand back under her shirt and groaned a little himself when she angled her hips up off the couch. When he pulled back from her lips, a dangerous grin on his face he whispered, "What do you want baby?"

Sam shifted again, this time to wrap her arms up around his neck and pull him back, "Just don't stop."

The hand under her shirt slid up over her sternum and he stopped when his middle finger dipped into the suprasternal notch. He felt her swallow and then he trailed the tip of the middle finger down, slowly, as it barely ghosted over her sternum, down her stomach and dipped it into her naval. When she giggled and her stomach fluttered Jack leaned back in to kiss her. Her giggle turned into a moan as he slipped his hand into the waistband of her shorts.

He didn't stop. He moved until he felt her and only pulled his lips from hers to murmer, "Fuck baby." Then slammed his lips down over hers again as his fingers found the warmth and wetness between her legs. With one hand he dragged her shorts down her legs and smiled wide as she kicked them rest the way off herself and dug her hand into the hair on back of his head. As he pushed himself up onto his elbow, the hand beneath her cradled her neck, he used his other hand to pull her leg up over his hip. "Stay right here." He kissed her cheek, "Just like that." Jack whispered the last part against her ear before he sucked the lobe into his mouth.

The little shiver that rolled through her when he did that never fucking got old, so he did it again and again until she tugged on his hair. Hard. When he pulled back he could tell he was smiling, an honest to God smile, because she looked like she fell a little more in love.

"There's my smile." Sam leaned up to kiss him, a smile of her own pressed to his as they did.

It was her smile Jack thought. She was the only one that ever saw it anymore. She was the only one he gave it to. The first time she'd seen it, she'd smiled so wide herself it looked like it might hurt, then she had leaned in close and whispered, "Those dimples are dangerous." He smiled a little wider at the memory and then let his hand slip from the inside of her thigh down to her core.

"Jesus." Her breath caught, voice somewhere between relief and desperation, as he so very gently ghoted the pad of his finger over her lower lips. Her whole body trembled as he did it a second time. The third featherlight stroke earned him a whiny, "Ja-ack." as she raised her hips up to try and get him where she wanted him.

With a quick brush of his lips over hers he responded, "I said stay remember?"

Her hips returned to lay flat against the couch, but the whine she let out let him know she was annoyed. Jack smiled and kissed her again, Then because he felt alive again for the first time in days, he licked his lips and pulled back enough to see her face. He stroked that same, barely there touch over her again and whispered, "Be a good nurse and do as your doctor says." Then he waited that split second it took for her eyes to flash just beyond annoyance and then before she could argue or snap back at him he slid his middle finger knuckle deep and stroked that hidden spot that made her whole body tremble and her eyes roll back in her head.

"Ohh I'm," Her breath caught as he caressed that little spot again, "I'm gonna fucking," A second finger stretched her a little wider and she had to fight back a moan to finish, "I'm going to get you for that."

Jack just smiled, the one just for her. The big one with the dimples and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes, and he pressed his forehead to hers as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of her, "I know you will baby." He kissed her and laughed, because every now and then she'd play that game with him. She'd be his good little nurse and it drove him fucking crazy on the right day. Today though she was his feisty little wife and he wanted to get that rise out of her. See that attitude flash in her eyes and then bring her back.

The grip she had on his hair told him he wasn't quite forgiven just yet, but the rush of wetness and the quiver of her pussy around his fingers told him he wasn't far off. She kept trying to twist and turn, to press her thighs together, anything to get what she wanted, but Jack just kept her there on her back beside him as he played with her. "Jack, please…"

Jack sped up his movements and she arched up off the couch, chasing his touch. "Going to cum for me baby?"

She nodded and the hand in his hair jumped to his back where her nails dug in and reminded him he was hard as a fucking rock and he needed to be inside her, soon.

He moved his fingers slick with her wetness up to draw a lazy circle around her clit. "Goin' to be a good girl and come for me?"

Sam whined but her nails dug into his back and fuck it felt good. He knew they were on that dangerous line where if he wassn't careful, didn't play it just right, she'd turn on him. Then he would be the one on his back with her teasing him until his balls ached. That's not what he wanted tonight and neither did she, because she nodded. She nodded and whined so pretty and pushed into his fingers and he gave her that smile again. Just for her as he watched her, his fingers on her clit moved in hard, fast circles. The kind that always gave her just enough relief to feel good, but left her craving more.

When she came her mouth fell open in a gasp and her eyes snapped shut, Her hips arched towards him and this time he let her. "Good girl." He murmered it into her ear as he coaxed her through that first orgasm. He kissed her cheek, her ear, her throat and felt the rumble of a happy, satisfied moan as she relaxed.

Once her eyes focused he was there, with the smile he kept for her and a kiss that resonated down into their bones.

She wrapped her arms around him again and lost herself in it. "You're too good at that." She whispered as they finally pulled apart. By the time her brain had focused enough to notice Jack had her tshirt pushed up to her breasts and had kissed his way over her hip bone, "Jack," The whine carried more than his name with it. "What're you doing?"

Jack couldn't help but smirk into the soft, silky skin of her inner thigh, "Something else I'm very good at." And then with a wink he ducked his head and his tongue made the first firm swipe through her still wet and quivering pussy, ready to show her time and time again, just how good he was. That he was happy, he was alive, as long as he was with her.

~~~~

Chapter Three

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