#which is something that's definitely gotten worse over time especially after that one medication that fucked us up in October

[thethingything]

ugh we made it 24 hours without having a migraine for the first time in months except for the last 12+ hours we've had prodrome symptoms anyway and then we've finally just got the actual headache and wow that got bad quickly

[ghostboneswrites2]

Doe Eyes - CH5 - Gone

Chapter List

        Brandy had a really bad coughing fit below you on her cot, and when you peaked your aching, feverish head over the side, you saw that she was coughing up blood.

        "Shit, Brandy!" You gasped, hopping down and comforting your friend. You didn't know what to do about it. Dr. S was busy with someone else, someone who was doing much worse than either of you, so all you could do was rub her back and hold her. "You better not fuckin' die on me, girl." You whispered.

        "You're not getting rid of me that easily." She retorted.

        More and more sick prison dwellers filed into D Block. You called out for Dr. S  a few times. Eventually he made it over to you, but he wasn't looking so good himself.

        "We don't have any medicine to treat your symptoms." He rasped, holding his side as he leaned against the bars. "Daryl is leading a group on a run. There's a veterinary clinic nearby, they will have medication."

        "Okay." You nodded. "I hope they hurry."

----

        Tyreese stayed to take watch over all the sick ones, especially after what happened to his girl. With Sasha in D Block, he had to make sure the killer didn't come back for anyone.

        Brandy had only gotten worse. Her bed was stained with the blood she had coughed up. You took careful breaths, trying to avoid the coughing fits. You told yourself over and over that it was mind over matter.

        When Hershel came in with his elderberry remedies you were relieved. He was right, it helped. The wonders of natural medicine, you supposed. Even Brandy in her poor state seemed a little better after he gave her some. Her coughing seemed to ease up, and personally your fever and aches seemed to cool down a bit. 

        It was days before they made it back with the medicine, and days after that before the virus had cleared out. Brandy was still weak but her symptoms had dissipated. You were taking her for a walk around the courtyard when everyone was finally let out of quarantine. There was a lot of work to be done, burying all of the ones who succumbed to the virus.

        After your walk you took Brandy to lay her down and rest. Since you were feeling fine, you went to help bury bodies and tend the garden.         

        "How ya feelin'?" A husky voice asked from behind you. You turned away from the grave you were digging to see Daryl there, wiping his hands with a red cloth.

        "Uh, fine. Brandy's still, you know, not so great, but.. We're fine." You nodded.

        "I'm, uh, goin' out to hunt." He said.

        "Oh." You nodded. "Cool." 

        "Yeah. I'm, uh, glad you 'n' your friend are alright." He said, before he spun around and left. You shook your head and went back to work. You were too tired to try and understand whatever that was. You'd be sure to tell Brandy about it when you went back to your cell later, though. She was an expert in all things male, so she'd surely know.

----

        "Which one is Daryl again? The cute scruffy one?" Brandy asked.

        "Crossbow guy." You told her, unwilling to admit that he was indeed attractive.

        "Oh, yeah. Cute scruffy one." She nodded. "And that's all he said?"

        "Yup." You shrugged. It was late afternoon now. The two of you were just eating some greens from the garden and hydrating yourselves. You were exhausted from gravedigging all day and she was just groggy.

        "He's definitely sweet on one of us." She declared. 

        "What?" You scoffed. "'Cause he  asked if we were okay?"

        "Mhm. Scruffy types don't do that unless they're after something." She said, matter of fact.

        "Whatever." You laughed, shaking your head.

        "Well, if you didn't think it was possible, why'd you ask?" She raised her eyebrows at you and wiggled them.

        "Shut up." You smirked.

        "Uh-huh. He's sweet on one of us. I just hope it's me." She admitted. You laughed at her.

        "I'm sure it is." You told her. "You're like a redneck supermodel."

        "I am not a redneck!" She gawked.

        "Yeah, you're just the farmer's daughter, right?" You teased.

        "Okay, you know what? I think I'd like to go take a shower now." She said, getting up off the bottom bunk where you both sat.

        "Yeah, just run away!" You called after her, stifling a laugh.

        You jumped when the prison shook, debris falling from the ceiling shook. Dust and debris rained down. You took momentary shelter under the top bunk before you jumped up, grabbing your gun and your crowbar as you did. When you made it outside, Daryl pulled you behind a wall. You looked at him with confusion before you peeked around the corner. 

        "A fucking tank?!" You breathed. It was sitting outside the gates, at the tip of a V formation of cars. As Rick went down to talk to them, you recognized the black eyepatch in the distance. "Shit!" You hissed. "I gotta go get Brandy."

        "Tell everyone to get ready to get on the bus." Daryl told you. You nodded before you sprinted back inside. You ran through the cellblocks shouting.

        "Everyone pack what you can and get ready to get on the bus!" You repeated. You ignored the questions as you ran for the showers. You ran right into a wet haired Brandy. "Brandy. C'mon. We gotta go." You panted.

        "What? Why?" She shook her head. "What the hell was that? An earthquake?" 

        "No! There's a fucking tank outside! The Governor! Stop wasting time!" You were growing impatient as you began to tug her by the arm. She followed, stumbling on her feet. You two made it back to the cell and began throwing everything you could in your backpacks before you ran outside. Rick and the Governor were still talking, but now you realized he had Hershel at his knees, a sword to his neck. Come to think of it, it was a katana, and Michonne was on her knees right next to him.

        You and Brandy froze and watched. It seemed deathly silent. Then, in the blink of an eye, the Governor raised Michonne's katana and sliced into Hershel's neck. Time froze. Your heart dropped. Screams erupted, right before the gunfire. The battle had begun. You whipped your head around until your eyes found a rifle and you picked it up and started shooting aimlessly. Anything to help, you guessed.

        But when the tank and the cars pushed through the fence you knew it was over. The gunfire alone would draw in a horde, and you were all simply out numbered and outgunned. 

        "Brandy, we have to get to the bus now!" You urged her. When you shook her and she didn't budge, you realized her face had grown a little pale. 

        "Oh no." Your eyes widened as you looked down. Her hands rested over her stomach, blood seeping through the fabric and coating her fingers. "No!" You cried out. "No no no no!" 

        Brandy dropped down to her knees, blood leaking out of her mouth as she cowered over in pain. She didn't say a word, but she didn't have to. Her eyes were full of fear and defeat. She knew, and so did you. It was over.

        You held her close and sobbed as her breaths became more labored and her gurgling grew louder, If the bleeding didn't kill her, she'd surely drown in her own blood. 

        "Brandy I'm so sorry." You cried. "I should have told you to wait inside -- I -- I -- Brandy?" You pulled away and looked at her face. She was silent, she was motionless, she was gone. "No!" You shrieked, over and over. 

        "C'mon!" Daryl called out, yanking you up by your arm. "She's gone! We gotta go!" He told you, shaking you by the shoulders to bring you back to reality. Beth ran up.

        "I was tryin' to find the kids to get 'em on the bus." She said.

        "C'mon, both of you, we gotta go."

        And that's how it was. For hours, days, weeks. Just the three of you, wandering place to place, hunting, scavenging, surviving in uncomfortable silence. 

[achubbydumpling]

I'm not sure if you ever finished the fat camp Bucky AU, but I'm curious as to what he and Steve are up to when the next summer rolls around?

Like it's summer again and this would be about the time Bucky would be getting signed up for camp, but… he's certainly outgrown the camp by now, considering how close he was the previous summer. But just how much has he outgrown it? He has def passed 600lbs, ofc, but by how much? Now that he and Steve (assumedly) live together, are they actively fattening Bucky up? If so, he's almost certainly passed 700lbs by now, possibly more

And considering how out of shape he already was, he's only gotten worse, and heavier on top of that, so is he immobile yet? Close to it? How close, close enough that a big part of their dirty talk and foreplay is talking about how fucking fat Bucky got, how just over, what, 3 years? He gained somewhere around 300lbs, how immobility is fast approaching especially since he's so sedantary and only getting bigger?

I'm just curious as to where you were picturing them that following summer and maybe even further ahead than that! Apart of the most recent part of the AU you have posted that's one of my absolute favorite parts of the AU is the shock everyone has when they see just how fat Bucky got over quarantine, so I wonder if that would be a thing after Steve and Bucky move in together?

Oh also! Just had an idea (sorry for the long ask lmao), but what if Steve has to go back this one last summer, but Bucky can't go since he's too big, so he stays home. What if he has a new goal to get as huge as possible and surprise Steve when he gets home? So he starts making weight gain shakes and chugging heavy cream, and with how sedentary he is and all the calories he's consuming, he's hitting somewhere between 25 to 30 lbs per month, and after 3 months of this… there's a noticeable difference. After all, Bucky has gained between 70 and 90 lbs since Steve last saw him!! If he thought he struggled getting around before, he and Steve will be surprised at how much he struggles once Steve gets home!

DID YOU HACK MY TUMBLR DRAFTS?!

haha I'm joking, but that's basically what I imagined for them, we're on the same wave length, nonny

I definitely think they'd move in together, I do think Steve would still work at the camp but I imagine this is the last summer he does. Just so he can focus on his degree fully in the last semesters.

While it's tempting to say Bucky would just keep gaining, I do think 700lbs is probably the upper bounds he gets to. (Which you know is still freaking huge! even if he's what? 6' in (movie) canon)

Also like everyone's weight naturally fluctuates, but Bucky's maybe a bit more? Especially after writing that Greased Watermelon Wrestling prompt, this Bucky has been cemented in my mind as loving summer and that he loves spending time outside during the summer--in a park, on the beach, maybe little walks in the woods. Nothing too far or strenuous, it's about enjoying nature, the outside.

Meeting with friends! He's a social butterfly, he loves to hang out with people. Just chatting over a cool drink and something to snack on :D haha I lowkey have this entire idea of him and why he might've struggled particularly over lockdown and self-soothed/medicated through food?

but anyway let's actually get to that idea at the end, because I love it! him and Steve apart and Bucky decides to gain as much weight as he possibly can, it's a fun challenge, he wants to see how much he can push himself but also what Steve's reaction will be (I mean obv positive haha)

they still talk every day, maybe they have video calls too? imagine Steve going crazy because he's sure Bucky's face is looking rounder, his cheeks look so plump and his double chin has gotten bigger, hasn't it?

but Bucky is super non-commital, says "oh, maybe, I mean I haven't changed anything and I usually drop a few pounds during the summer, so don't be disappointed when you come back" while he can literally feel that he's heavier, his belly feels even more vast, reaching all of it in the shower even with a reach extender (is that the right word?) is a chore and a half but he wants to surprise Steve and it's not like the added struggle isn't hot, but sometimes he just wants to take a damn shower, you know?

anywayyy, I hope you'll enjoy Part 5 of the Fat Camp AU!

[newwwwusername]

Fellow person suffering from acid reflux/ GERD 👋, heard you're curious to write fanfics about it, could I please request a monster high one, hurt/comfort, mainly being about Draculaura, Frankie, and Clawdeen? Draculaura is my comfort character and I heavily project onto her so I'd definitely be curious to see how you write her out. Thank you!

Please do not repost on other platforms. This will be posted on AO3 and TTBC under the same username.

A common misconception about vampires was that, due to their undead nature, they didn't suffer from common living ailments. Unfortunately for Draculaura, this was not the case.

Ever since she was a little girl, she could remember this uncomfortable feeling in her chest and throat, usually after she'd gotten done eating or drinking something. She would throw up in her mouth sometimes but it typically stayed in the back of her throat, stinging uncomfortably.

She didn't say anything about it, though, because she figured it was just one of those things that everybody dealt with. Besides, it wasn't the worst thing ever. Just some stomach acid coming up and some chest pain.

As she got older, it got worse, though she barely even realized that it had. Sometimes it would get bad enough to where she would end up spitting the bile out onto the pavement below. Still, she didn't realize this wasn't normal.

One day, she was having an especially hard time. Sitting down in her chair seemed to be worsening the feeling a tiny bit so she got up and went into her coffin without a word.

Clawdeen and Frankie exchanged a glance. It was the middle of the day. It was uncommon for Draculaura to retreat like that in the middle of the day. Something was wrong.

Clawdeen stood cautiously, which Frankie mirrored, and the two walked over to the coffin. "Draculaura, hey" Clawdeen said, loud enough for the vampire to hear through the wood but quiet enough to not startle Frankie. "Everything okay"

"I'm okay" Draculaura said, opening the coffin lid. "Just some stomach acid"

"What do you mean?" Clawdeen asked, concerned. Draculaura frowned. She didn't think this needed to be explained since everyone dealt with this.

"I was just throwing up stomach acid" she explained nonchalantly, trying to ignore the clear increase of concern on the werewolf's face. "Like, in the back of my throat, and sitting down was making it worse so I came in here"

"Are you sick?" Clawdeen asked.

"What? No"

Just then, Frankie's head snapped up like it did whenever a new piece of information came to their mind. Both of the girls looked over at them in anticipation for what was hopefully an explanation.

"Acid reflux is when stomach acid flows back into the esophagus, often causing discomfort such as chest pain or throat irritation" the monster explained. "If it happens consistently over a long period of time, it is likely Gastroesophageal Reflux Disease or GERD for short"

"Wait, that's not normal?" Draculaura asked. She was shocked. All this time, she was sure this was just another one of those things that everyone dealt with. She wondered what else wasn't as common as she assumed.

"No" Frankie confirmed. "But it is treatable"

"That sounds awful, Draculaura" Clawdeen spoke up sympathetically. "Has this been happening for a while?"

"All my life"

"Wow..." Clawdeen sighed. Just then, some more bile came up Draculaura's throat. She uncomfortably swallowed it back, wincing as it burned down her throat. "Frankie, you said it's treatable" she turned to the monster. "How?"

"Well, there's medications you can take" they said vaguely, then their eyes snapped again. "The most common treatment for acid reflux is antiacid medication, which reduces the amount of acid in your stomach, aiding in common reflux symptoms. There are also lifestyle changes that can help reduce symptoms, mainly dietary restrictions"

"I'll see if there are any spells that can help" Draculaura decided. "If not, I'll talk to the nurse. Right now, I think I just need to ride this out"

Frankie and Clawdeen both exchanged another glance, worried for their friend. It was Clawdeen who eventually spoke up again.

"Okay" she said. "Well, let us know if there's anything else we can do"

"Thanks, you two" the vampire said, a genuine grin on her face despite the discomfort she was in. "You both are the best. I don't know what I would do without you. I love you guys"

"Aw, we love you too" Clawdeen said. Frankie just smiled and nodded.

This sucked but, with her friends by her side and the road to treatment ahead of her, Draculaura knew she'd be okay.

[steviescrystals]

its 5am and i can’t sleep and i have to ramble about something (a few somethings actually) bc i cannot stop thinking about it!! this is really just for me to get my thoughts out bc they’re driving me crazy, but on the off chance anyone reads this, prepare yourself: it’s about to be a very long post.

i have so many chronic issues — both physical and mental — that i’m just used to dealing with at this point, and i’m only just recently realizing how not normal they are?? the main thing that’s driving me insane lately is just my overall physical well being, like it’s just so… not good lmao. i’m extremely anemic, so i’m basically exhausted and lightheaded and dizzy and nauseous pretty much all of the time which is just awesome for me, and it’s been even worse than normal the past few months bc i have a ton of food issues that just keep getting worse (caused by a super fun combination of depression, disordered eating, constantly being sick, and just general stomach issues). my diet is really just all over the place and definitely not as nutritious as it needs to be, which as you can imagine does not help all the health issues i already have! on top of all that, i was finally diagnosed with adhd earlier this year after spending forever 1) constantly learning that a lot of things i had always thought were just “me things” were actually symptoms 2) being told by so many people around me WITH ADHD that i seemed like i had it, and 3) outright asking various psychiatrists and doctors to test me for it. because of the shortage on adhd medication, i only recently was able to get a prescription, and (this is where the relation to food comes in) literally no one — not my doctor, not the psychiatrist who prescribed it, not the pharmacist — thought to tell me that the medication i’m on lowers your appetite?? i only found out bc my mom, who’s a nurse, mentioned it one day and was shocked that i didn’t already know that was a side effect. so that sucks because i need the medication, but i also need to be eating a lot more than i currently am (especially because i’m also taking iron supplements for my anemia, and if you don’t eat enough while taking them, they make you sick). so! that’s all great for me!

i’ve also had chronic headaches since i was 11 years old that have continually gotten more frequent and more painful over the years, to the point that i get them almost every day and have taken advil, tylenol, midol, etc. so often that i’ve pretty much built up a tolerance to them and they do essentially nothing for me anymore. they’re usually just really bad headaches, but sometimes i get full-on migraines, and when i ended up in the ER in the spring (long story), the nurses told me i’m likely developing a migraine disorder. this is kind of just an unfortunate fact of life for me now since it’s been going on for eight years, but i’ve just been thinking about it a lot lately bc of a psychiatrist appointment i had a couple months ago (lots of various appointments lately but not much has gotten better… lol). when i was telling the psychiatrist about my headaches, he told me that the average person gets a headache twice a year, which just… genuinely blew my mind. like, i cannot imagine not having this problem. what a nice life that must be for the average person. and i mean, i’ve always known that i get headaches way more often than most people, but i truly could not wrap my brain around the difference being that extreme. i literally started asking everyone i knew how often they got headaches bc i was so surprised and curious, and they all told me they just never get them?? like that is insane to me, i’m so jealous.

okay last thing for now: the reason i’m still awake rn! i started struggling with insomnia when i was maybe 11 or 12, and just like with the headaches, it’s gotten worse and worse over time and i’ve just kind of grown accustomed to it. it always takes me hours to fall asleep, and i have a very hard time staying asleep — i usually wake up in the middle of the night at least two or three times a night. it’s another thing i knew wasn’t super typical, but it’s not insanely uncommon either. but that same psychiatrist had a statistic for this too, and he said that the average person wakes up in the middle of the night ONCE A YEAR (under normal circumstances, so not counting things like being sick or having abnormally high stress levels). he also asked me how long it takes me to fall asleep again after waking up in the night, and i said “not that long, like half an hour usually” and he quite literally just stared at me and said “yeah so that is long actually.” like, i know not everyone has insomnia, but this whole time i thought that everyone who DOES have it would have generally the same experience as me, and apparently that’s just not true lmao. in fact, he said my insomnia is so bad that i have what’s called terminal insomnia, so i guess this is just my life forever! how fun is that!

so that’s pretty much all i wanted to say (she said as if she didn’t just spend 30 minutes typing all of this). whenever something like this is on my mind, it makes it even harder to sleep than it already is all the time, so i figured i’d just come on here and word vomit for a while. i don’t expect anyone to read all of this (or any of it tbh), but if you have, thank you for listening! i hope you have a great day and get a better night’s sleep than me tonight :)

[radiantlyrey]

Thoughts on Uprising ep16 “Welcome Home”

- (sorry for no post yesterday; spent an exhausting day at the zoo in a group of TWENTY PEOPLE—and by the end of the day I was overstimulated and too tired to do anything but sleep, so.)

- also there’s only three eps after this!!! FUCK. I WANT SIX SEASONS AND A MOVIE OF THIS, HOLY SHIT.

- cold open time!: we pick up pretty much right where we left off, with Keller evading capture in a train station (the Black Guard go after someone else and don’t even fucking apologize for the mixup, because of course not) and after a brief eek moment with the ticket takers, she’s seemingly in the clear—until fucking BECK?!?! SHOWS UP!?!?!

- it makes total sense that he’s not in his Renegade disguise, since the Renegade is more wanted than Keller is at the moment, but STILL. INTERESTING. I wonder if Tron put him up to this (not that we find out because Tron is not in this episode!) anyway, he’s largely being honest with Keller and his desire to have her defect to the resistance’s side in Argon, but Keller’s not hearing any of it and then Paige is there!!! FUCK!!!!

- Beck gets Keller out of sight, at least, and he flirts terribly with Paige in an attempt to buy Keller some time, including a terrible lie about being an architect. Keller juuuuuuust barely squeaks out of there in a moment when Paige is distracted, because it turns out Pavel is here in a chopper!!

- and why is Pavel here? well, he is here Specifically To Be An Asshole!!! BECAUSE OF COURSE HE IS!!! Keller almost gets away on a wing chute (almost; tho I imagine if she’d opened it in front of the chopper she would have become bits VERY QUICKLY), then hides when the chopper opens fire and Beck kind of tries to make things better but may have just made things worse??? I’d have to watch again, but I think his disc hitting the chopper is what causes the engine damage? anyway.

- Pavel, being an asshole, peaces the fuck out when it looks like the train is going to just…. crash horribly, and it’s here again that we see Paige’s empathy towards other programs on display. I love that Pavel calls it “predictable” in her; I guess there’s a good possibility that he knows she used to be a medical program? maybe not, that seems like something he would leverage against her almost immediately, so. maybe not.

- meanwhile (and I note here again that this is the third episode in a row with no B plot!), Beck catches up with Keller and kind of convinces her not to just jump out the train and make it to Bismuth on foot or whatever so she can start over? like, you can tell she’s kind of half convinced, but obviously she still needs to hide.

- and then it’s time for more flirting!!! to keep Paige distracted!!!! hoo boy. like. Beck has already been flirting with Paige as the Renegade, but it’s weird to see his face when he’s doing it. and because she doesn’t actually think/know he’s a threat, Paige is kind of receptive to the flirting. (also I love that Beck said he was an architect and has to walk that back because the train needs his mechanic skills)

- meanwhile, those two ticket takers have hatched a plan to use the train’s escape pod to get out of what seems like imminent fiery death! I’m sure this won’t cause any problems, especially since Keller overheard them plotting!!! and indeed, Keller accidentally gets one of them derezzed, and perhaps rightfully gets denied by the other one when they reach the escape pod! so there’s that!!!! ugh.

- Beck and Paige end up making a pretty good team, all things considered. like, they are definitely on opposite sides, which sucks, but you can kind of tell that the creators were angling for Paige to switch sides at some point in the show (if we had gotten six seasons and a movie……), because they would not be setting this relationship up otherwise. (speaking of ships that are gonna KILL ME……………)

- so Beck and Paige get the train decoupled from the engine, saving all the passengers, but then it turns out—the bridge just outside of Bismuth is fucking BROKEN. like, there ain’t no bridge there, it’s GONE, and anyone still on the engine part of the train (Keller, Paige, Beck) is gonna die a horrible death if they don’t get off or stop the engine!!!! FUCK.

- (also I just gotta say the whole bit in the Bismuth station where the Argon Express is announced as arriving and departing within like five seconds: genuinely hilarious)

- Beck manages to save the day by jamming up the engine with lightcycle parts?? I guess???? anyway, it works, and Beck very nearly dies for it!!! OOF. and then Keller decides that Paige’s heartfelt offer of Tesler’s leniency is too good to pass up and un-defects, and decides at the last possible fucking moment NOT to hand Beck over as a member of the resistance and THANK FUCK FOR THAT. and then Paige reveals her secret—that she’s a medical program—and asks? Beck out?? on a DATE?!?!?!?! OKAY THEN.

- coda: see, I knew the moment Paige offered it that Tesler was not going to quietly let Keller back into the fold. the ONLY reason he spared Paige’s life and started mentoring her after the whole thing with Quorra was capricious fucking whim. no more, no less. he’s a liar and a cold-hearted murderer, and he knows he has Paige’s trust, so he knows he can quietly abuse that trust. so seriously? FUCK HIM. that scene where he derezzed Keller was HORRIFYING and also the darkest fucking Title Drop I’ve seen in this show. FUCK.

- all in all: good episode, A++, would watch Beck flirt again.

[pigeonp0st]

could u do nat taking care of r when r gets sick (pretty please i beg of u)? preferably lots of cuddles 🥺🥺

idk i just love soft!nat 🥺

Natasha Romanoff x Reader #5

Words: 1,689

Warnings: none?

Notes:

I didn’t really like how this one turned out but i’ve finally decided that staring at it in my drafts with disappointed isn’t gonna make it any better...so here it is. Thank you for requesting, and sorry for spelling mistakes. Hope you enjoy!

———

It started with a cold. Just a couple of sneezes, a runny nose, and a sore throat...the usual.

It started out with you trying your best to hide it. Hide the sickness. That plan went under the moment Natasha heard you sneeze during training... she had you confessing to your sins much too quickly.

Suffice to say she immediately kicked you out of the training area with demands to take some medicine.

So she was the first to realize that you were sick, and she was the first to realize you were getting worse instead of better. She’d pester you endlessly when you wouldn’t want to talk about it, and watch over you like a hawk.

It was sweet, but you also didn’t think it was necessary. You were sure you’d be fine in three or so days.

How wrong you were.

When you wake up with a 103° fever for the third day in a row it has you layed in bed for the whole day groaning about the inequalities of the world, and begging Natasha not to get a doctor for the 100th time.

You were fine. Totally fine.

Natasha watches you with a mix of amusement and concern from the corner of the room and suggests, gently, that maybe you’re not.

You peak over your covers to glare at her in something like betrayal. “I’d be fine if you’d stop pacing and come cuddle with me.”

She seems to think about her options for a long moment and right when you think she’s going to reject you she relents with a heavy sigh and gets into the bed.

She’s so blissfully cold it has you snuggling into her side immediately, both to warm her up and use her as your own personal ice pack.

“You’re burning up,” Natasha whispers, but she pulls you closer to her—like somehow if she’s close enough she can absorb some of your pain and make you feel just that little bit better. “If your fever rises even a little bit we’re going to the doctors, okay?”

She’s concerned and worried, and even though a stranger fussing over you is the last thing you want you know you have to give her this.

As soon as you nod your head in agreement some of the tension seeps out of her body, much to your relief. As ridiculous as it is, you’re worried about her worried about you—if that makes sense.

“Around 100,000 people died from the flu in 2019,” Natasha mumbles against your forehead. She adds quietly after a moment, “just in case you were wondering.”

You were not wondering. What the fuck.

“Nat...that statistic is mostly old people.”

“Yeah,” Nat agrees, “you’ll be fine.”

And despite your body's protest, and how much of a pain it is to pull away, you do, just so you can give Natasha an incredulous look so she knows just what you think about what she’s doing right now.

Her face is unexpectedly vulnerable when you see it. She isn’t trying to bother you...she’s just…she’s worrying herself crazy.

“Nat,” you sigh, ready to embark on the most comforting and articulate speech you can think of, but a sudden fit of coughs has you turning away hurriedly to muffle your face in a pillow.

When your lungs finally decide to stay in your body for now, and Natasha stops rubbing your back, you’re too tired to try and comfort her, so instead you mumble, on the verge of sleep, “if I die; just know I love you.”

Which, in hindsight, probably doesn’t help much.

But she doesn’t sound worried when she replies, just exasperated and fond. “I love you, too.”

———-

When you wake up again it’s to a bunch of kisses and beautiful red hair.

“Stop attacking me,” you grumble, trying to push her away, but you're not able to hide your smile. God, you love your badass (soft) girlfriend.

“Look who's not dead!”

Remembering your last words to her before you went to sleep has you finally opening your eyes and giving Nat a sheepish smile. Oops. “Look who really wants to get sick…”

“My immune system is stronger than yours,” Natasha scoffs, shoving both your medicine at you and a bottle of water.

“Asshole,” you mumble, moving to open the medicine bottle only to get stopped by a hand on your wrist. “What?”

“You need to eat first.”

Thus, starts the trip towards death.

————

“Oh my god, how much farther is it…”

Your fever is finally down and back to safer levels so naturally Natasha has insisted that you’re able to go to the kitchens yourself and sit outside to eat.

You need fresh air, she said.

The room is getting stuffy, she said.

It’ll be good for you, she said.

What a fucking devil.

“You’re literally the most dramatic person to ever grace this earth,” Natasha tells you for only the millionth time since the journey began. “Maybe if you stopped sliding against the wall and crawling on the floor like you got shot three times we’d get there faster.”

“Maybe if you’d help me—”

“I tried! But apparently i’m ruining your image.” She rolls her eyes when she says that, then turns away to grin like she thinks you won’t notice.

You’re a whipped idiot who's decided to make a complete full of yourself and waste what little energy you have just to get your girlfriend to laugh, and to prove to her that you’re doing better.

You’re definitely going to regret this later, but now, in the moment; This is totally worth it. No doubt.

————

Wanda is in the kitchen.

As soon as you see her you straighten up and stop leaning on the wall (and limping). Natasha laughs next to you when she notices.

“You’re doing better, Y/N?” Wanda asks, glancing over you before returning back to the soup she’s making. For you. She’s making soup for you.

You adore her. She’s your favorite person, she’s—

“Not your girlfriend,” Wanda interjects, amused, “and doing this as a concerned teammate, and because your girlfriend asked.”

“Yes, well I love you anyways. Your cooking has gotten very good,” you say, shooting her a grin while you practically bounce to the dining chair, in stark contrast to the way you were dragging yourself down the halls.

Natasha does a good job at trying to not look confused, but she clearly is. Unfortunately, or fortunately, Wanda informs her before you get the chance to.

“Favorite person for making you soup?” Natasha asks once Wanda’s done relaying your thoughts. She narrows her eyes at you then. “Not the person who has been taking care of you since you became an avenger, not the person who—”

“It’s very good soup, Nat.”

“Very,” Steve agrees from the living room.

Natasha sighs, takes a sniff of the soup, and resigns herself to the facts she’s faced with. “Yeah...it is.”

——-

“Close your mouth,” Natasha orders, tapping your chin. You listen, waiting patiently for the beep of the thermometer to signal it’s done.

When it does, Natasha pulls it back to study it. There’s a small lapse of anxious silence before Natasha reveals the results. Then...“Ninety-Nine. You’re officially a healthy woman.”

And with that, you’re finally free of the bed rest and able to walk the halls as a newly restored human being.

“I’m free,” you shout, tackling Natasha onto the bed and kissing her all over her face, completely overjoyed. “Natasha, I survived!”

You survived. It only took an exhausting week. When your fever went down a couple of days ago it spiked to 105° a bit after and you were sure you were going to suffocate in Natasha’s worry because of it. You had to go to the medical room...it was awful.

But now Nat laughs, and laughs, and then pulls you into a tight hug to stop all of the kissing. She seems to be unburdened and lighter now that she finally has the numbers she’s wanted.

“Loving you as much as I do is really just living in this constant state of worry and fear,” Natasha says when you’ve both settled down. “I do not like things being out of my control,” she admits, kissing the crown of your head. “Especially when it involves my heart.”

“Your heart,” you repeat, curious. “Is that what I am?”

“Ignoring the worry and fear part?” Natasha teases, quirking an eyebrow.

“We both know those feelings are accompanied with a multitude of good and beautiful emotions. I feel them too.”

Natasha smiles then, soft and gentle, and full of admiration. “Yes.”

You tilt your head. “Yes...what?”

“Yes, you are my heart. Or at least you feel like you are.”

At that, with a determination and seriousness that visibly shocks Natasha you say, “i’ll protect it. I’ll protect myself, and because you're mine also, I'll help protect you. Always.”

“Always,” Natasha agrees, her fingertips trailing across your cheek. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Yeah,” you mumble, embarrassed suddenly, “of course.”

————

“Are...are you serious?”

Natasha scowls into her tea and says nothing in response. This is fucking hilarious.

Your lovely girlfriend doesn’t seem to think so because the second she sees your face struggling not to laugh she begins glaring at you. “Don’t,” Nat warns. “Don’t you fucking dare—”

“I seem to recall you saying, and I quote, ‘my immune system is stronger than yours.’” You grin. “Oh how ironic this is.”

“I’m not sick—”

“Aw, but baby, the amount of tissues on the floor seem to be saying otherwise,” you gesture towards the growing pile, feeling absolutely no sympathy until Natasha glances at the pile with a sigh of defeat. She looks so small and sad covered in her pile of blankets...it simply won’t do. “Don’t fret, my love. I will take care of you, just as you took care of me,” you assure her, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

“First things first,” you tilt her chin up, “i’ll get Wanda to make you some soup so you can take some medicine.”

“I hate the world,” Natasha grumbles, mumbling some curses in russian.

“I love you, too.”

[commonwealthoccurences]

Companions React: Finding An Abandoned Child

Request: Hi, I really love your writing! Could you maybe do companions react to finding a crying child hiding in like a car or an abandoned building?

TW: Child abandonment, trauma, PTSD in some characters, themes of child neglect and abuse

The Scenario: Sole and their companion are travelling through the wasteland, looking to collect scrap for the latest project. They were on high alert, of course, considering it was the wasteland, guns drawn by their hips as they crept forward into another abandoned building. It seemed to be relatively untouched, which was promising. That is, until the companion rounded a corner to head into one of the nearby doorways, and was met with the sight of a small child silently weeping in the corner. Alone.

Cait:

The image of that child alone, covered in grime, their face coated in tears, is forever seared into her mind from that moment on

She wasn’t allowed to cry much as a child, it was considered whining, but if there was one scene that could represent how she felt her entire childhood, it was that

She was rushing forward before she could even think about it, almost failing to consider how frightening that may be to the child

Luckily, she remembered shortly after her impulsive actions, and slowed down, kneeling a few feet away

“Do you need help?”

As soon as she can coax the child into trusting her and letting her pick them up to get them out of there safely, she struggles to let go

Even when Sole’s trying to check the child for injuries, she has to fight herself internally to let go of them

After a long talk with Sole, that child becomes priority in her life; sometimes the people who’ll mean the most to you find you in confusing ways

Curie:

She doesn’t think much about the possibility of accidentally frightening the child

She’s already in front of them and checking them over to make sure they don’t have any life threatening wounds

If she accidentally scares the crap out of the kid, she realizes her mistake and backtracks

Kind of forgets that Sole exists at that point until it’s time to carefully pick the child up and get them out of the building; they’re the designated body guard

Once they’re back at Sanctuary she confers with Sole on how to make the child most comfortable

They discuss whether or not it would be better for the kid to stay with them, or in Sanctuary in general, or to look for suitable adopters; their decision relies on where Curie’s at in figuring out herself and where Sole’s at in the main story (if Sole is canon-compliant)

Danse:

There’s supposed to be a protocol for similar situations according to the Brotherhood

He has a moment of weakness, seeing a child so helpless like that

He gets hit with anger, surprisingly; he tries his best to remain detached, and he’d like to think he’s pretty damn good at it, but the idea that someone could abandon their child like that?

He suppresses it long enough to have Sole carefully approach and check the kid over (he knows his armor isn’t exactly the most relaxing sight)

He’s somewhat silent on the way back to the Prydwen

Handing them over to the medical staff is difficult for him and he needs to take a moment, but at the same time struggles to leave the child

He asks Sole to stay with them so they have a somewhat familiar face and steps outside for a moment

Pulls some strings to get them adopted onto the Prydwen: he tries to keep a semi-detached relationship moving forward but definitely has some bias towards the child as they grow up in the Brotherhood and checks in on them

Deacon:

Unfortunately, it’s not the first time this has happened; he’s travelled for most of his life, and hiding out in abandoned locations was part of that

Child abandonment is more common than other people would like to believe, so he’s gotten used to sorting things out, and honestly, it’s not all that different from his work in the Railroad

Regardless, he’s had practice

He approaches slowly and quietly, but talks so that the kid is aware of where he is

He walks them through what he’s doing as he checks for any obvious injuries, asks a few questions if they’re verbal and not completely dissociated, and wipes their tears

Asks Sole for any sort of blanket or spare shirt they may have and wraps the child in it for comfort before asking to pick them up

Any conversation about the kid is done out of earshot- it’s not exactly comforting to hear strangers discuss how messed up you and your situation is

Instead he has Sole stay alert as he mindlessly tells lighthearted stories for the child to listen to if they can hear

Once they get back to Railroad HQ he stays nearby, tells jokes, can provide signing if they’re deaf, makes sure they give consent to every part of being treated, gets them some food, etc

Needs a moment once he’s told that they’ve found somewhere for the kid to go

One of the rare times he gives Sole a hug without prompting

Gage:

Has no clue what to do or what’s going on

Makes Sole approach the kid; “What if it’s a tiny feral ghoul?” “Gage, you’re an idiot”

Keeps his distance for the most part unless Sole asks him for help

He will pass the child some food or water, silently, in order to try and bond or something

Very much uninvolved in the process as long as Sole has things covered, but he does get extremely vocal in the fact that the child needs to go to a good home

Haylen:

Uncertain in how to approach, but once Sole tells her what they plan to do, she’s willing to help

Asks a few questions about why they’re there and what happened to them, but if she’s not getting answers, she knows to back off and focus on what might be going on physically

Once they’re both sure the child has no injuries and can be moved, Haylen uses cloth they collected to fashion a sort of back-carrier; the most practical thing is for both of Sole’s arms to be free for protection

Has a long chat with Sole about what to do once they get back to the Prydwen and briefs the medical staff, but after that, she lets Sole take over

She knows that spending more time with the child means she’ll get attached and that’s the worst thing she could do to either of them

Will ask about what type of home/community the child went to after they’re gone and feel reassured once Sole explains

Sometimes she randomly thinks of them and reserves a moment to send them her best wishes, but other than that, tries not to care

Hancock:

His heart absolutely shatters, but he knows that approaching may make things worse; after all, they’ve probably run into feral ghouls depending on how long they’ve been on their own, and his appearance won’t help their distress

Instead, he sends Sole forward to check up on them and build some repertoire

Sole has to have a small chat with them about how they know that there’s bad ghouls, but there’s also very nice ghouls, and that Hancock is the nicest ghoul they’ll meet

If the kid freaks out once they spot him he feels sick to his stomach, but if they don’t, he’s relieved

Has Sole carry them just in case the child changes their mind and freaks out after calming down, but will talk to them

Doesn’t really want to bring them back to Goodneighbor, but if that’s the closer option, that’s where they go instead of Sanctuary

Either way, he finds himself extremely attached already, and once the child receives medical attention, he’s bending over backwards to get them whatever they want food, drink, and comfort wise

Once the kid falls asleep, he sits Sole down to talk; (if they’re close) do they think they could co-parent?

Really doesn’t want to let the child go to another home; he’s seen the shittiest of shitty of the wasteland, and doesn’t trust anyone else to raise the child right, but at the same time, he doesn’t think he’d be a good parent

If Sole reassures him and is willing to take on the job, the pair adopt the child. If not, they bring the child home to Sanctuary and discuss with different settlers there whether or not they’d be willing to take on a child

The Longs get first offer

MacCready:

While emotionally he’s destroyed by the sight, he knows how to deal with the situation

He’s a natural with children after Duncan, and so it’s easy for him to approach calmly with plenty of warning and go through the process of making sure the child isn’t fatally wounded before getting permission to move them

Asks some basic questions, if the child isn’t mute, and tells some stories about Dogmeat and the silly things he does

(If Duncan isn’t healthy and he and Sole are just friends) Mac knows that having to part with the child is going to break his heart the moment he sees them, but he can’t take on another kid with the way his life is; it wouldn’t be fair to anyone involved

(If Duncan is healthy, has been moved to Sanctuary, and he and Sole are either best friends or partners and co-parenting) He waits until they’ve gotten the kid settled and talks to Sole about whether or not they have the mental, physical, literal, etc resources to take on another child

If they agree he’s ecstatic, considering the child won’t have to go to another set of strangers before finding somewhere safe

Brings Duncan in on the conversation and explains what’s going on and asks his opinion

Nick:

Like Hancock, despite the fact that he’d like to help right away, he knows that his appearance can be frightening to those who aren’t used to it

Instead, he tells Sole to go first and approaches afterwards

Whether he’s consciously aware of it or not, he tries to keep his face out of the child’s line of sight to avoid frightening them

Once they’re on the move he’s already gotten in a debate with himself on whether or not he’s willing to put on his Detective hat and look for the child’s parents

Of course, it could be a misunderstanding, and they could’ve gotten split up during an attack or something

But at the same time there’s a visceral anger in him that someone would let their child end up like this; it’s not rational, he knows, especially since it could be an accident, but he can’t really help it

He knows where he could place the child already if Sole and he aren’t in a place to handle the responsibility (and it takes a long while into their friendship/relationship for him to even think about co parenting) due to the many families he’s met during his work

Piper:

She thinks with her heart and not her head, so she’s already scooping up the child before it even registers in her that that may be a bad idea

Panicked, trying to soothe the kid as she’s shooting Sole a frantic expression of what the hell

Has no idea what to do, really, and looks to Sole to help her out

Once they’re on their way to somewhere safe she discusses the fact that (unless she and Sole have moved to Sanctuary and are past the main questline) they probably can’t take on a child

They’re consistently travelling due to her work, Sole’s fighting their battles, etc

If they’ve settled, they already have both Shaun and Nat to worry about, so she’s not quite sure how another child will work in their lives

But if they do decide to take on the responsibility, the decision is made when she goes to get food for the child back in Sanctuary and finds them fast asleep against Sole’s chest

Something about that image seals the deal for her and she knows she and Sole need to have a long talk

Preston:

Unfortunately, like Deacon, this isn’t quite an uncommon sight for him

He approaches and talks his way into trust with practiced ease that’s quite telling of how things go in the wasteland

He’s picked them up and is already on his way out by the time Sole registers what they may want to do about the situation

It’s not really a question to him that the child’s coming back to Sanctuary; he knows that someone will take them in, even if he specifically can’t

He’s had enough field training (and practice) that he knows how to check for injuries and treat some basic ones, so that’s done swiftly and as painlessly as possible

X6-88(Institute):

Doesn’t really see the point in getting involved, but if Sole wants to do something about it, then he doesn’t protest; after all, he’s there to protect them, no matter what antics they get up to, no matter how unadvisable

He keeps his distance and pays no mind to what they’re doing with the child, he’s simply there to keep guard

Wants no part in the matter

X6-88(Post-Institute):

Really isn’t sure what to do at all

He lets Sole approach first and takes cues from them; their cautious body language, quiet voice, etc

Pretty much just follows their lead the entire time due to his uncertainty of the situation, but he adapts eventually

Offers them water pretty much right away because he knows how threatening dehydration can be especially since they’ve been crying

No matter how much he may want it, he doesn’t bring up the idea of him and Sole co-parenting first; they would have to say something first for him to discuss the idea

He is one of the most protective when it comes to finding a family for the child, if that’s what he and Sole decide to do, though

[omegasmileyface]

Not in the Job Description

heres a silly lil Danny Phantom concept based entirely off a half-awake sleep-vision that made me laugh :) my subconscious brain is a genius at coming up with things that make just enough sense to be worth writing

summary: Danny's job at a local restaurant is surprisingly fulfilling, even after being crowned Ghost King. Speaking of that job, however, there are some intricacies to it that are hard to keep in mind during everyday life.

warnings: descriptions of nausea and mild sickness

words: 2180

AO3 link

===

Honestly, life was going pretty well at the moment for Danny Fenton. He wasn't even worried that it was a false security or a calm before a storm, because this kind of semi-serenity had been going on for more than a year. It was a long-term stability brought about by adaptation and putting in effort to get help and accommodation. Jazz would be proud!

Sometime at the beginning of Junior year, the Observants had chased him down and crowned him High Ghost King (much to the chagrin of both involved parties). It certainly added responsibility to Danny's plate, along with some new sensations and a series of crises (what didn't these days?), but a little political discussion with some of the more powerful ghosts ended with Danny deciding that, at least at the moment, the position didn't require him to do much more than he normally did. More ghosts would seek him out for help and he would do his best, and some "paperwork" (though there was very little paper involved and it was a lot of talking and oaths and rituals and such) happened about monthly. Otherwise, though, the Zone didn't need much more help than that, having survived off an absent King for centuries. Well, and the ambient purpose of the King as a sort of core for the Zone, but Danny didn't have to put in time or conscious effort for that.

Eventually that settled into normalcy, and Danny was back to worrying about the balance of schoolwork, self-care, and fighting. He still hadn't given up on the prospect of someday becoming an astronaut, and he was determined to have the grades for it. Don't get him wrong, he'd gotten way better about that! He'd formed a practiced, if not entirely stable, system that kept his grades at a solid B- / C+, while getting a solid 5-ish hours of sleep most nights and not bottling things up too much. It was about halfway through Junior year that he realized, with some help from his friends, that his ghosts fights were honestly pretty civil, at least against the regulars. Civil enough that he knew they had some respect for him, and was willing to risk asking for help. So a few weeks and awkward but not bad conversations later, and he had agreements with almost all his regular "foes" not to cause trouble within Amity from 11pm to 7am, 3pm on weekdays. It was more than half the day off-limits on school days, and plenty of ghosts made up for it to a degree by making themselves more common during the "permitted" hours, but it greatly increased Danny's well-being and school performance anyway. "Rivals" like Skulker and Technus had enough respect for Danny and his Lair to abide, and plenty even cared that he was taking care of himself, even between frequent sparring. Maybe a few were really just in fear of his new crown, but he chose to cautiously pretend that wasn't a possibility.

After graduation — he made Senior year with all As and Bs! — Danny's parents had encouraged him to get a part-time job over the summer. He had been interning at FentonWorks (paid! His parents might not be the most attentive but they certainly weren't unfair) since he had accidentally revealed himself a few years back, and they had been thrilled to hear that he still intended to go into NASA if possible, and had done whatever they could to help. They recommended the job because, as good as a paid scientific internship was on a resume, it would help to have a variety of activity and the opportunity to get recommendations from employers who weren't liable to nepotism. After searching local businesses, Danny found a small sandwich shop founded by a middle-aged couple who had moved in and set up shop just before the ghost attacks began. Being close to the school but not far from the commercial sector and offering small portable food (no one wants to sit down for a meal when a spirit could come crashing through the window at any moment), the place got good enough business to pay the employees a proper living wage. Better yet, they were allowed to take home unsold food! Not to mention the owners were both very kind women who held smiling conversation with employees and customers alike. Danny was more than lucky to land such a nice job, even if it meant he had to get up at 7 five days a week.

All this is to say that it wasn't as surprising as it could have been that he was having a slow and pleasant day at work.

Both the owners were out for the day on some sort of vacation, so today it was just Danny and a short teenager named Casey manning the place. Most of their orders recently had been online due to an explosion causing road work near the restaurant and it was mid-morning, leaving work slow enough that they could afford to just have the two until lunch shift started. Danny was on cashier duty today, but unless the door bell sounded, he was helping Casey in the kitchen.

"Aw, man, we're almost out of tomatoes."

"Really?" Casey looked up to the shelf Danny was inspecting and indeed saw only 3 tomatoes. "Huh, guess they didn't restock yesterday. Well, we probably shouldn't risk needing more before the day's out, do you want me to go get more?"

Danny shook his head. "Nah, I can go. I think I could use the fresh air." He said that a lot, especially as an excuse when his ghost sense went off, but that didn't mean it wasn't true. He never had liked being confined.

Casey checked the monitor to see if they'd gotten any new online orders. Since there was a grocery store just a block away, any time someone needed a quick restock they tended to just walk.

They looked up to see Danny already had his jacket on and was looking them in the eye. "Would you take over my position until I come back?"

"Of course. Ten minutes?"

With a nod and a smile, Danny was out the back door.

===

After a moment of habitually wiping down the counters, Casey went up to the register in case a customer appeared.

It was even quieter than before for a few minutes, so they busied themself with mini restocks and organization. They were in the middle of stacking some paper coffee cups when they started to feel dizzy. There had been this subtle pressure on their chest since Danny left, which they figured was anxiety for working the restaurant alone for the first time, and now it had solidified into a warm nausea that flared whenever they exhaled.

With the disinterested panic that came from having strange things happen for years, they wondered if they had missed their medication this morning. A quick glance at their phone, however, showed the notification for it checked off.

Putting the phone back away, Casey noticed the tips of their fingers were somewhat translucent. Alright then, it was definitely something to do with ghosts. Great! Just excellent. The panic was less disinterested this time.

They weren't familiar with any sort of ghost illness that made humans translucent, so they definitely needed to call someone to make sure nothing bad happened. It would be best to call the Fentons' public number so they could go over and get looked over by then. In the meantime, they should call Danny and ask him to hurry back. He shouldn't be much longer anyway.

Casey didn't even get the chance to act on their plan, however, before a short humanoid ghost appeared in the dining area. They didn't look to be up to anything, but Casey reached for the emergency ectoblaster beneath the register anyway. The nausea was getting worse, along with a new chill, and they couldn't be sure this new ghost wasn't somehow causing whatever they were going through.

The ghost looked at them with an expression that was almost desperate. "Ah! Kind human, thank you for your time." The ghost... bowed? "I am Eurusid, from the Spoken Channels. There has been a dispute which damaged public meeting grounds in the center of the Channels, and both groups refuse to allow the damage to be repaired except by the other group."

Casey's eyes narrowed. It was becoming difficult to stand with the dizziness, and if not the ghost himself, then whatever he was saying was probably a hallucination. They didn't even think about responding beyond a detached "what".

It was then that Danny re-entered the back door with the new tomatoes. Good thing, too. At least with another person there, Casey could confirm whether they were hallucinating.

===

Placing down the grocery bag and shrugging off his jacket in one motion, a skill only gained by years of laziness efficiency, Danny called toward the register. "Back!"

Once he caught sight of the teen, however, all casualness shed itself from his body and he rushed over to hold them. "Man, Casey, you feeling alright? You look really pale." The realization that their form was slightly translucent, despite the firm human heartbeat beneath, was drowned out by him finally noticing the ghost standing a few feet away. The reaction of his ghost sense had been so minor that he had ignored it.

He was surprised to see that he recognized the specter's face, marred as it may have been from worry and confusion aimed directly at Casey. "Eurusid? What's going on?"

As the ghost, still confused but unwilling to act impolitely, gathered his bearings and began to bow toward him, Danny's coworker shuddered under his hands, regaining his full attention. He thought back through the day's events for hints as to the situation, before swearing, cutting off whatever Eurusid was about to say.

Danny backed up and said, voice as clear as he could, "I recall my position."

Casey's reaction was immediate, a gasp of air like they had been kept from breathing and a return of their skin's human opacity. Danny rushed back over and put his hand on their back to steady them as their eyes narrowed and went slightly unfocused.

Figures, doesn't it? One of the many intricacies that had come up at his coronation Junior year that just hadn't come up enough to keep at the front of his mind. One of the defenses of the High Ghost Crown was the ability of the King to temporarily give their duty to someone else. As long as that person accepts, during a specified time they substitute for the King in dealing with political matters, as well as taking over as much as their ability allowed of the King's function to process the energy of the Realms.

Danny had no idea that this ability could be activated with words as vague as "take over my position", let alone that it could be used with a human. That potential had never come up during the ceremony, so for all he knew, a full ghost in his position couldn't substitute with a human. A human certainly shouldn't be able to take over any part of the energy processing, though maybe in Amity Park the average person processed enough environmental ectoplasmic energy to make it possible. Regardless of residence, though, it could not be good for Casey's body, which had no Core to properly process energy and had no human equivalent except perhaps a small emotional center in the brain, to even attempt to filter and manage some of the inherent energy of a dimension.

Their skin was still clammy and their coordination was shot. Ancients, if this is what an accidental substitution did to a human, Danny would have to word things very carefully when asking for help in the future.

"King Phantom?" Danny looked up to see that Eurusid was still floating there awkwardly. Right. He had two people here to help.

"Sorry, Eurusid. One moment, I'll be right with you." He turned back to his coworker, who looked confused and less lucid than ideal, but probably still lucid enough to realize this ghost had just called him "King Phantom". Well, he'd deal with that once it came to it. "Here, Casey, let's get you some water." He helped them walk back into the kitchen and sat them down on a bench by the back door. There was a chair in the register area, but they probably didn't want to feel exposed to the dining area like that, even with nobody but the ghost there.

Once handed the water, Casey sighed and eagerly drank from it, eyes closed. Danny rubbed his hand on their back a bit and promised to be back shortly before walking back out to meet Eurusid. Whatever he was here about was probably worth immediate attention but Danny was sure there'd be at least a solid minute of apologies on both sides before the matter was addressed. Hopefully both the Spoken Channels and Casey would be alright before the next shift came in.

[lepusrufus]

Double edged scalpel ch.10

Ch1 ch2 ch3 ch4 ch5 ch6 ch7 ch8 ch9

Summary: scary moms are scary

---

Nicole stilled.

Moms.

Well this just got a million times worse.

Surprisingly enough, Nicole could count on her fingers the times she had crossed paths with either of the Ladies. Lady Dimitrescu was often busy and not bothering with the staff. Most things that needed communicated went through the Steward. Mistress Esteria was, as some would call her, a ghost. She preferred her solitude or time with family so it wasn't unheard of for new staff members to take months before they even see her around the castle. Paired with Nicole's job that had her in the dungeons almost all the time, she never got an actual introduction to either of them.

Not that she complained. It didn't take a genius to realize that both women were to be feared.

I think I'd like to bleed out now.

"What about?" Her voice was barely audible, due to fear or pain was anyone's guess.

"... I don't know." Cassandra's quiet voice mimicked her own.

"Should I assume it is about your um… choice of partners?"

The realization that, to anyone outside Cassandra, she was little more than a maid turned butcher hit Nicole almost as much as the bullet that until not long ago was wedged into her flesh. Would they forbid Cassandra from seeing her? Or perhaps decide that Nicole has committed an unspeakable offense to their family and punish her? She gulped and Cassandra's reply wasn't of much help either.

"I don't know," she repeated.

Nicole sighed, a slow drawn out exhale, all too aware of the pain it would cause otherwise. "When?"

"Soon. They told me to let them know when you wake up."

Nicole just nodded and laid back into the cushions. May as well be comfortable before facing death. But Cassandra didn't move. Instead, she interlocked their fingers and brought Nicole's hand to her lips, leaving a kiss on bony knuckles. They stayed like that, silently, for a full minute before Cassandra got up and, with a be right back, exited the room.

Left alone, Nicole looked down at herself once more. To say she looked awful was an understatement. Definitely not going to rely on appearance to make a good impression. The painkiller was also yet to do its job and any movement still shot jolts of pain through her body. Wonderful.

It wasn't long before the door opened again and Cassandra came in followed by Lady Dimitrescu, her trademark hat making her look even taller and more intimidating than she already was. Immediately behind, Mistress Esteria took light steps, her long white hair flowing behind her like a silky mantle.

They looked so in contrast with each other, and it went beyond the almost opposite color schemes. While the Lady had the expression of a mother about to scold her child for carelessly running up the stairs and scraping a knee, the Mistress looked about to take out the bandaids. Her eyes, blue and gray, looked at her with something akin to kindness.

"What's your name dear?"

God her voice sounded like rivers deep in the forest. Flowing and ancient and just as powerful as she probably was.

"Nicole," she gulped.

The Mistress came to a stop right by the bed, tall frame bending down and grabbing Nicole's chin between two fingers. She moved her head from one side to the other and hummed.

"My my, what a pretty face. You've always had quite the taste in women, love." She looked at Cassandra who only nodded stiffly.

Then, she was up again and moving towards the other matriarch, who by now was sitting in an armchair. The Mistress leaned on the armrest, opting to ignore the many other places to sit and Nicole had to wonder for a moment if they were the clingy type. What an oddly human trait.

A long drag of a cigarette was drawn out before golden eyes finally fell on Nicole and the Lady spoke.

"I was actually surprised to learn about how… deeply Cassandra cares about you. To actually come to me and ask for help saving your life." She narrowed her eyes slightly, just enough for it to be a clear warning. "I sure hope such kindness was not wasted on you."

Sensing where this conversation was going, Nicole groaned internally. Of all things, she would rather not have the break my daughter's heart and I'll break your legs conversation with Cassandra's mothers while a damn hole in her abdomen was still sending waves of pain through her body if she didn't move just right. In her defense, the painkiller was yet to kick in and there's only so much holding her tongue she can do while in pain.

"With all due respect my Ladies, I'd rather throw myself off the highest tower in this castle than pretend to love Cassandra. Have you met her."

That got a snort from the brunette, who quickly masked it with a cough. The Mistress however laughed. A melodic laugh that, in another situation, would be the most soothing thing.

"Oh dear. While the reassurance is appreciated, we do trust Cassandra's judgement."

"For the most part," Lady Dimitrescu added, eyes still narrowed.

"And we would love to have you for dinner soon," the Mistress went on, ignoring the small glare from her wife.

Another drag of the cigarette. "Well anyways. We didn't come here for a welcoming party. We'd like to make you a proposal."

Judging by Cassandra's furrowed brows, she probably knew as little about this as Nicole did. A proposal from Lady Dimitrescu could either be wonderful news or a death sentence. She couldn't help a gulp when the Lady continued.

"Contrary to popular belief, I do care about my staff. At least those who prove themselves useful." The cigarette was finally done and now Nicole had the luck of having her full attention. "And, as you may have guessed, medical training is not particularly common around here. I do happen to want a castle physician, a position that could be filled by someone skilled that also has a good reason to do a good job and be loyal to my family."

Wait what-

Nicole blinked in confusion, an expression mimicked by Cassandra. Did she mean…?

Lady Dimitrescu raised an eyebrow. "Do you accept?"

"Y- yes." The words spilled from her mouth without a second thought. And why would she have second thoughts after all?

Lady Dimitrescu watched her for a long moment. Then, when she seemed pleased with her findings, she rose to her feet.

"Very well. We will discuss the technicalities once you're in a better state. Now try not to bleed out before you even start your job. And," she sighed, "you are expected at dinner as soon as you're able to join us."

The last part caused her wife's lips to turn into a warm smile. The Lady simply turned around and ducked out of the room while Mistress Esteria lingered by Cassandra. She whispered something only the brunette could hear and then leaned in to kiss her forehead. The Mistress had a couple inches on Cassandra, which meant she was towering over Nicole. Then, with a smile in her direction, she too was out of the room, leaving only the two of them to stare at the door in disbelief.

"Well that went… well."

"Oh for the love of Mother Miranda," Cassandra sighed in relief, hands running through her hair.

Her shoulders lost their tension when she came to sit by Nicole's side, a smile now present on thin black lips.

"Your mothers seem… lovely women."

"Shut up you were scared shitless."

There goes Nicole's attempt at being polite. Not that Cassandra was wrong by all means, but part of her wanted to be on good terms with her lover's family. Maybe it was simply due to her relationship with the brunette, maybe it was due to how her own family never seemed to care much for each other. Not the way the Dimitrescus did, despite how they were seen as monsters by most outside eyes. She didn't let herself dwell on it, instead she took one of Cassandra's hands and started to play with slender fingers.

"Are you hungry? I can ask Cynthia to fix something for you."

Nicole smiled at the effort to make her feel better. She would never get tired of seeing Cassandra's caring and gentle side, especially when she knew how ruthless she could be otherwise.

"In a bit. I'm waiting for the painkiller to fully kick in so I can actually sit up."

Cassandra nodded and looked to the side, seemingly lost in some kind of thought. Nicole wanted to ask what got the brunette pensive all of a sudden, but before she could, golden eyes snapped back to her.

"Also. Don't you dare jump in front of a bullet for me ever again. It wouldn't have hurt me anywhere near as much as it hurt you."

There was a subtle growl in her voice that would have scared any other person. But Nicole recognized how the anger was just veiled worry at how much worse their situation could’ve gotten.

"Sorry. I just saw him with the gun and panicked." There was a reason she didn't pursue her father's idea of becoming a surgeon after all, and pissing him off was only part of it. "And I'm glad you didn't get hurt at all."

Cassandra narrowed her eyes, but her expression quickly softened. The big bad sadist couldn’t stay mad at her lover and Nicole almost teased her about it, but a gloved hand slowly caressing her cheek stopped her.

“I’m just happy you’re alive.”

[jayoctodot]

The Silent Patient vs The Maidens

I will start by saying that I understand the appeal of these novels as page-turners. They are easy to read and if you want a twisty reveal at the end, you will probably be entertained and satisfied. That being said, I am SO CONFUSED by the near-universal adoration of The Silent Patient and the reasonably positive reception of The Maidens. The weaknesses of the two are strikingly similar, as well, which doesn’t give me much hope of seeing improvement from this guy, though I am intrigued to see whether he keeps repeating the same (apparently successful!!) patterns. These books were at least super fun to hate.

(For context, I read The Maidens for a bookclub I'm in, because several of the members had read and loved The Silent Patient, and one of them gave me a copy of the latter to read on my own time. I loathed The Maidens and then read The SP for comparative purposes. And because I'm a masochist, apparently.)

SPOILER WARNING! Do not read on unless you've finished both books (or unless you care not for spoilers). Sorry if it gets a bit shouty.

Here are the similar weaknesses I noticed in both:

PSEUDO-PSYCHOLOGY

-> Weirdly similar “group therapy” scenes early on where a cartoonishly unstable patient arrives late, disrupts the meeting by throwing something into the middle of the circle, and is asked to join the group after the therapist(s) speechify on the importance of boundaries (HA! None of these therapists would know an appropriate boundary if it kicked them in the ass) and debate whether to “allow” the patient to join. Both scenes are so transparent in their design to establish the credibility/legitimacy of the narrators as therapists, but instead both Theo and Mariana come off as super patronizing. The protagonists are less and less believable as therapists at the stories progress (though at least Theo’s incompetence is explained away by the “twist” at the end; Mariana, on the other hand, is confronted in the opening pages of the novel by a patient who has self-harmed PRETTY extensively, and rather than ensure he get proper medical attention, she essentially throws him a first aid kit and tosses him out the door so she can pour herself a glass of wine and call her niece... and it devolves from there).

-> Ongoing insistence throughout the narrative that one’s childhood trauma entirely explains the warped/dysfunctional way a character behaves or views the world, which is why the books go out of their way to give EVERY potentially violent character a traumatic childhood; when Theo insists that no one ever became an abuser who hadn’t been abused themselves, I wanted to throw the book across the room. (That is a MYTH, SIR. GET OUT OF HERE WITH YOUR ARMCHAIR PSYCHOLOGY.)

-> Female murderers whose pathology boils down to “history of depression” and “traumatized by a male loved one/family member.” Because, as we all know, depression + abuse = murderer!

-> The “therapy” depicted in both books is laughable and so so unrealistic, mostly because neither narrators function as therapists so much as incompetent detectives, obsessively pursuing a case they have no place pursuing (or skill to pursue - both just happen across every clue mostly by way of clunky conversation with all the people who can provide precisely the snippet of info to send them along to the next person, and the next… until all is revealed in a tired, cliched “twist”). Their constant Psych 101 asides were so tiresome and weirdly dated (also, the constant harping on countertransference got so ridiculous that at one point during "therapy" Theo literally attributes his headache and a particular emotion he feels to Alicia, as though the contents of her head are being broadcast directly into his mind... and I'm PRETTY SURE that's not how it works???)

CHARACTERS

-> Psychotherapist narrators with abusive fathers and pretensions of being Sherlock Holmes, which results in both characters crossing ALL KINDS of ethical lines as they invade the personal lives of everyone even tangentially connected to their cases (and, in Theo's case, violate all kinds of patient confidentiality. Yeah, yeah, by the end, that's the least of his offenses, but before you get there, it's baffling that NO ONE is calling him out on this).

-> All female characters are either elderly with hilariously bad advice, monstrous hulking brutes, or beautiful bitches (except for ~MARIANA~, who is Bella Swan-esque in her unawareness of her own attractiveness, despite multiple men trying to get with her almost immediately after meeting her. I'm so tired of beautiful female characters being oblivious to their own hotness. Are we meant to believe all mirrors and male attention have escaped their notice? If it’s to make them “relatable,” this tactic really fails with me).

-> All characters of color are shallow, cartoonish side characters, and most of them are depicted as unsympathetic minor antagonists (the Sikh Chief Inspector in The Maidens continuously drinks tea from an ever-present thermos, and his only other notable characteristic is his instant dislike of Mariana, whom he VERY RIGHTLY warns to stay out of the investigation that she is VERY MUCH compromising… the Caribbean manager of the Grove is universally disliked by her staff for enforcing stricter safety regulations at the bafflingly poorly run mental institution, because HOW DARE SHE. There's a very clear vibe that we're supposed to dislike these characters and share the protagonists' indignation, but honestly Sangha/Stephanie were completely in the right for trying to shut down their wildly inappropriate investigations).

-> "Working class" characters (or basically anyone excluded from the comfortably upper-crust, educated main cadre of characters) are few and far between in both stories, but when they show up, he depicts them as such caricatures. We got Elsie the pathologically lying housekeeper in the Maidens, who is enticed to share her bullshit with cake, and then a TOOTHLESS LEPRECHAUN DEALING DRUGS UNDER A BRIDGE in the SP. I kid you not, a man described as having the body of a child, the face of Father Time, and no front teeth, emerges from beneath a bridge and offers to sell Theo some "grass." I was dyinggg.

-> There are no characters to root for. Anywhere. Partly because they’re all so thinly drawn — and because we’re clearly supposed to view almost ALL of them as potential suspects, so they’re ALL weird, creepy, or incompetent in some way.

-> The flimsiest of flimsy motives, both for the narrators and the murderers. Theo fully would have gotten away with his involvement in the murder if he hadn't gone out of his way to work at the Grove and "treat" Alicia and his justification for doing so is pretty weak; his rapid descent into stalking and murder fantasy and his random ass decision to "expose" Alicia's husband as a cheater with a spur-of-the-moment home invasion and staged attempted homicide is ONLY justified if the reader hand waves it away as WELP, HE'S CRAZY, I GUESS (after all, he DID have an abusive father and a history of mental illness, and in Michaelides novels, that's ALL YOU NEED to become a violent psycho). I guess we're lucky Mariana didn't also start dropping bodies (because the logic of his fictional universe says she should definitely be a murderer by now... maybe that'll be his Maidens sequel?). But she especially had NO reason to randomly turn detective - and she kept trying to justify it by saying she needed to re-enter the world or that Sebastian would want her to (??), even though she had no background in criminal psychology... or even a particular fondness for mysteries (really, I would've accepted ANYTHING to explain her dogged obsession with the case. WHY were Sebastian and Zoe so certain she would insert herself into the investigation just because one of Zoe's friends was the first victim? WHY?). As for Zoe and Alicia, their motives are mere suggestions: they were both abused and manipulated, and voila! Slippery slope to murder.

WRITING STYLE

-> Incessant allusions to Greek tragedy and myth, apparently to provide a sophisticated gloss over the bare-bones writing style, which opts more for telling than showing and frequently indulges in hilariously bizarre analogies. Credit where credit is due — the references to Greek myth are less clunky in the SP, and I liked learning about the Alcestis play/myth, which I hadn’t heard of before - but OMG the entire characterization of Fosca, who we are meant to believe is a professor of Greek tragedy at one of the most respected universities on the planet, is just absurd. His "lecture" on the liminal in Greek tragedy is essentially the Wikipedia page on the Eleusinian Mysteries capped off with some Hallmark-card carpe diem crap. The lecture hall responds with raucous applause, clearly never having heard such vague genius bullshit before.

-> Super clunky and amateurish narrative device of interludes written by another character; Sebastian’s letter reads like a mashup of Dexter monologues and Clarice’s memory of the screaming sheep, but by FAR the worse offender is Alicia’s diary, where we’re supposed to believe she painstakingly recorded ENTIRE CONVERSATIONS, BEAT-BY-BEAT DIALOGUE, even when she’s just been DRUGGED TO THE GILLS with morphine and has mere moments of consciousness left… and even before that, she literally takes the time to write “He's trying the windows and doors! ...Someone’s inside! Someone’s inside the house! ETC ETC” when she thinks her stalker has broken in downstairs. WHO DOES THAT?)

-> Speaking of dialogue, the dialogue is so bad. Based on his bio, Michaelides got a degree in screenwriting, which makes his terrible dialogue even more baffling.

-> HILARIOUSLY rendered voyeur scenes where the narrators spy on couples having sex. Such unintentionally awkward descriptions. First we had Kathy’s climax sounds through the trees and then the bowler hat carefully placed on a tombstone before the gatekeeper plows a student. Again, I died.

PLOT/"TWIST"

-> The CONSTANT red herrings make for such an exhausting read. Michaelides drops anvils with almost every character that are so obviously meant to designate them as suspects in our minds. There is absolutely no subtlety in his misdirections.

-> The “crossover” scene between the SP and The Maidens makes no sense - when in the timeline does Mariana’s story overlap with Theo’s? They confer just before Theo starts working at the Grove, obviously (though Mariana appears to be the one who alerts Theo to the job opening there? Whereas in the SP, Theo has been obsessively tracking Alicia since the murder and had already planned to apply to work there?), but then are we supposed to believe that while Theo has been psychotically pursuing his warped quest to “help” Alicia, he’s also been diligently treating Zoe, so invested in her case that he repeatedly reaches out to Mariana to get her to visit Zoe and even writes Mariana a lengthy letter to convince her to do so??? And then a couple days after The Maidens ends, Theo is arrested???

-> But the thing I really did hate the most is how Michaelides treats his female murderers (who are both also victims themselves) as mere means to deploy a “twist”; there’s no moment spared to encourage our sympathy for Zoe, who was groomed and manipulated by the only trusted father figure in her life, and even after spending a decent amount of time getting to know Alicia via her ridiculous diary, where it’s so apparent that she’s been demeaned, objectified, manipulated, gaslit, and/or used by EVERY man in her life, she’s sent packing to spend the rest of her days in a coma… HOW much more satisfying would it have been for her to succeed in exposing Theo and reclaiming her voice? But no, she basically rolls over when he comes to finish her off (SPEAKING OF — ARE WE SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE THERE ARE NO SECURITY CAMERAS IN THIS INSTITUTE FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE????), writes one last diary entry, and drifts off forever. And then a couple pages of nothing later, the story is over. GOODNIGHT, ALICIA!

Both books kept me rolling throughout (by which I mean eye-rolling but also rotfl). Maybe I will check out his next effort — I’m morbidly curious what he’ll turn out. It does leave me wondering whether I should give up on thriller novels entirely, though. Are many of the weaknesses of these novels just characteristic of the genre? Maybe I'm just holding these books to unfair standards? I'm mostly only familiar with thriller films — many of which I think are amazing — but maybe you can get away with more in a film than you can in a novel.

...I really only intended to write a handful of bullet points, but more and more kept coming to mind as I wrote, to the point where subheadings became necessary. Whoopsie.

[babbling-idiot2]

Raoul Silva x reader

Requested: “Hello!! May I please request a Raoul Silva x female reader? Where the reader works with Bond, but for a time is kidnapped by Silva and then when she escapes and works with Bond again she is conflicted because she has feelings for Silva and then there is a showdown between her and Silva but she doesn’t shoot him when she has the chance?? And then they end up kissing. (Bond is not around) If that is waaaaaay too specific, I completely understand. I’m also a writer and really like this idea, I just don’t have any motivation right now. But If that’s too specific, then just something Silva x reader please?? If not, that’s cool! Thanks and have a blessed week!” -By Anon

Warning:

(Hello! Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy this. It’s actually kind of funny I had a fic for him in the drafts but never got around to posting it. But this was a better idea then mine so, I hope you enjoy!!)

*****

It wasn't suppose to be hard. Nor was it ever hard to do your job. Sure a few bruises and cuts here and there but it was your job and you enjoyed it. You have feared for your life before but at this point in time you weren't that scared anymore. Especially when it involved getting kidnapped. Now you had gotten kidnapped before. But it was also so easy and almost boring. Like they didn't try anymore. Well that was until you got kidnapped by a man named Raoul Silva. You knew him from a brief glimpse of a case file yet you didn't know enough to be interested. Only in the fact he is a ex MI6 agent. That's the only thing that caught you attention. 

In training you are taught many things. One being to never get involved with the target. Ever. If you did you would also be terminated. So, you never ever were involved with anyone. Even outside of your job. But luck would have it, as you've found yourself in quite a pickle. Did you get kidnapped? Yes. Was it on purpose? Well of course not. Did you know who kidnapped you? No! But it was quite the shocker to find out the ex MI6 agent, Raoul Silva had been the one behind it. When you were finally sat down. You sat in an empty room. Filled with high tech computer equipment and the sound of people moving around behind you. Mostly out of boredom and the fact that they themselves are bored with this charade. Then as you were also getting bored, you hear an elevator. You looked forward and could clearly see an elevator opening at the end of the room. Silva steps out and begins walking over to you. "Miss Williams. It is truly a pleasure to finally meet you. I must say that I have read much about you." He’s close enough now that your finally able to see him up close. You shouldn’t be thinking this about your kidnapper but he was very much more attractive then his picture "Good things I hope." "Oh nothing less of good I can assure you. Though I am disappointed they left out so much." You continue to look at him, trying to figure out where he was going with this, already having a good idea "Well that's the point isn't it? To keep as much personal information out of the files?" He tilts his head and nods slightly "Yes. I suppose that's correct but I must admit, I would like to know more about you before I get to the real reason why I brought you here. If you don't mind?"  You raise and eyebrow curiously as you continue to follow him with your eyes. You didn't answer and he seemed to just take that as a yes. He was walking around the area, not once making his way towards a chair. He kept walking, pacing in the same line as he questioned you on your past. "From what I know, you were a top student in school. A plusses and never once a B. You were dedicated to learning everything. You even graduated 2 years earlier than your classmates. Did you enjoy it? High-school, I mean." You shrugged your shoulders "Its hard to remember everything, since it was a little while ago. I do remember enjoying it though. Many good memories." He hums out in either approval or refusal. Which turns out to be refusal. "I do not believe that. You see your file here says, 'School for miss Williams was, in her words: Troubling, I was bullied a lot and had no friends. My studies were the only thing I focused on. I was the laughing stock of my high school career." You didn't say a word, you had no idea that he was really seeing your file right in front of him. "Now Miss Williams, you were bullied, treated horribly and now you are an MI6 agent. Says you've never had any infatuation for anyone in your life. Is that true?" You close your eyes and shake your head "No. I've never been in a relationship nor do I ever want one." He chuckles and looks at you, straight in the eyes "Miss Williams you do know I have your file here and every word you've said is a lie. I do not think that is a good idea. Tell the truth." He says now looking at the file again. This time you roll your eyes and adjust yourself in the seat "I was in one relationship in college. We only dated a week." "Why?" "Because he was a creep. And an asshole." "See now that is what a want to hear. The truth!" You roll your eyes again and become even more annoyed. 

You had no idea how long it had been but what was for sure was that it was long enough. You could hear the sounds of gun fire coming from outside of the building you were in. You thought for a moment that you were hearing things but when you heard the door being slammed open and the sound of an MI6 agent calling your name, relief washed over you. You were soon taken onto one the helicopters and was taken back to HQ. There you were met by a medical team and M. She was glad to see you walking and not in a body bag. She nodded your way before telling the medical team to take care of your. Also ordering you to go with them, knowing how much you hated any kind of medical attention. But you agreed and went along anyway.

Not even a day later you were reunited back with bond and even he was happy to see you again. But sadly even though reuniting gave you a slight feeling of happiness, you were conflicted. For a time you didn’t know what by. Was it work? Did you receive bad news? Did you say something and regret it? You had no idea, until it hit you one day like a truck. You thought back to when you got kidnapped by Raoul Silva. You couldn’t get him out of your mind. It was like he was an infection in your brain and you couldn’t get rid of it. Bond could tell something was wrong with you. Just by looking at you for an extended period of time, he could tell. But he had no idea what it was or better yet, who it was. 

You were ordered to go after him. Simple task, easy enough right? Well not exactly. You were hot on his trail, right behind him and yet he was just that much faster then you. Suddenly out of know where he turned this corner and right before this very large door could close you just made it through when it closed with a loud thud. Silva was at a dead end and had no where to go besides the way you came. When he turned around you already had a gun pointed in his direction. Completely prepared to shoot him if he made one wrong move. He knew that you would so, he would have to choose his next words and moves very carefully. “Miss Williams, I am very amazed at how you caught up so quick. I was not prepared for this encounter today.” “Yes well, you’ve screwed up your chances at getting out. I suggest you make yourself comfortable.” You say gesturing to the ground. He knew you wanted him to sit down on the ground but he couldn’t let that happen. “Miss Williams, Or better yet, Y/n? We both know that you won’t shoot me.” He says stepping closer. Though the fact that he knew your name was quite jarring, it didn’t impair your judgement. It was a sign that he was trying to get close. And you most definitely couldn’t let that happen. You pulled the hammer of your gun back and stepped a bit closer, keeping eye contact as to try to intimidate him. “You really think I’m afraid of what M will do if I shoot someone like you? I could care less. You’re actually lucky your up and walking now.” You never once let your confident and intimidating persona drop, not around him and at a time like this, it would be game over for you. But Silva was smart and he could see through your demeanor. “You are smart Miss Y/n. And you hide your private life so well. So hidden like a hermit in the sand. Yet I see right through the cracks. You have feelings for me.” You clench your jaw and shake your head “In your dreams Silva. I could never like someone like you.” “In my dreams? No, no, no y/n. In your dreams. You’ve thought about me since the day you got kidnapped by my men. Ever since you saw me and now, you cant get me out of your head. You can’t hide your feelings for me y/n.” He says now even more closer then he was before. You couldn’t back up anymore, for the door was closed and there was no escape from this. Your finger tightened and he saw this. He reached his hand out. Hoping that you wouldn't pull the trigger. Your brain told you to pull the trigger and end all of this now. But the more irrational part of you held you back. When he got close enough he wrapped his fingers steadily around the barrel of the pistol. He directed it out of the line of his face and slowly stepped into your personal space. He smiled at you and tilted his head at you. “There we are. I knew you couldn’t shoot me.” “It’s the worse decision I’ve ever made. I’m just as good as dead as your are now.” he starts to shake his head at you “No! No, no, no, no my dear! No one will know about this. Not even Bond. You just have to keep this a secret. You’re good at that, right?” You clench your jaw at hearing that. Keeping a secret from the MI6 was like trying to keep candy from a toddler. But nevertheless you nod your head and look to the side. You weren’t looking away for long until you felt a hand on your chin pulling you back. You looked back at Silva and saw a look in his eyes. You weren't sure what it was but what he did next gave you a good idea. He leaned forward and kissed you. It wasn’t for long but it definitely took the breath out of you. When he pulled away, on instinct you chased him slightly. When you realized what you did you looked away embarrassingly. Hoping he didn’t notice. He did, and smiled from ear to ear. Kissing your forehead and the side of your face. He leaned down where his mouth was near your ear before whispering “You should never feel embarrassed around me dear. I want to see you for you, not what they made of you.” You swallowed your embarrassment and looked up at him before leaning in slowly to kiss him back. It was quick, nervous and very sloppy. You were sure you kissed the side of his mouth. He smiled nonetheless and looked down at his wrist. Sighing out in annoyance he looks back to you. “I’m very sorry my dear, but I must end this meeting. I am suppose to meet my men in 5 minutes or our plan is ruined. Till next time my dear.” As he was walking away you stared confusingly at him. “Wait so this was part of the plan wasn’t it?” He turned back as he was about to pull a hatch open that was in the ground. He smiled at you cheekily. “My dear, I have a plan for everything.” He says as he closes the hatch behind him. You stared wide eyed at the hatch before you. 

“Well then, where did he go Williams?” You sighed out in annoyance “Like I told you before. I went down the hatch as I saw him do, when I got to the bottom he wasn’t there. He was gone. I ran to the end and searched. He was gone.” M stared at you, disappointment lacing her features as she looked at you. You could practically feel it by now. She shook her head and waved you off not bothering to say another word to you. You rolled your eyes and walked out. Fully intending to just go home. 

When you got there you hung your coat up and slipped your shoes off at the door, barley noticing the other pair of shoes right there next to yours. You looked up and sure enough you could see the back of someone's head sitting on your couch. You didn’t have your gun, and hand to hand combat was the only thing you had up your sleeves at the moment. When you came around the couch all thoughts of intruder and fighting left your mind. Silva was sitting there flipping through one of your magazines you had sitting on your table. “You know, you should invest in better security and better reading material.” He says still eyeing the magazine. “And you know I have a full bookcase right there? Also I like to be notified when I have company before they come over. I hate surprises.” He smiles and lays the magazine down, looking up to you with the same smile on his face. “But you like me, so it’s a welcomed one.” You shake your head smiling before walking over to the kitchen. You looked back and he was still seated there, looking out into space of your living room. You had no idea how you were going to deal with him. You had no idea how long this would go on for, but only time could tell now.

*****

(Hello so, I hope you liked this! If you did, any kind of feedback is amazing and highly appreciated! I hope you enjoyed and I hope you have an amazing day/night and stay safe out there in the world!)

[fanfictasia]

Whumpay Day 28

Fever

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from Countdown to Revolution

“His stress levels are unusually high,” the clone medic reports, when Obi-Wan heads over to the cruiser as soon as he has the chance. He’s finished with his own mission for now, so he has time to drop by and check on Anakin.

“This has happened often in the past after a serious physical injury,” Obi-Wan comments.

Kix frowns. “Even when he is otherwise healthy, he still appears… unusually stressed. It… concerns me. I have never seen this on anyone before, not even among the other clones.”

Well, that is odd. All of this is not something Obi-Wan has been able to understand either. For one, it’s probably a result in part because of his poor emotional control. Obi-Wan tried to train him to control himself better, but he still struggles with it. And with the war going on, that’s definitely adding to it.

Of course, there’s Anakin extremely low pain tolerance level. That probably pays a part too. When he first came to the Temple, Obi-Wan had thought his reaction to being hit by the training droids were simply because he wasn’t used to it – every other youngling pretty much grew up that way – but even if it got a little better with time, he always has a hard time with injuries.

On one of their first mission, the first time Anakin had been shot, he’d hardly been able to move for a while afterwards and it could almost have cost them the mission. The injury wasn’t that serious. It was excusable because it was one of his first missions, and he was only ten at the time, but still.

Obi-Wan has always found that aspect of Anakin a little surprising, though, simply because of where he was from. Being a slave, he would have thought he was used to pain, especially with how much he would flinch when he was younger – presumably out of fear of being hit. It wasn’t something he’d realized at the time, but eventually he’d figured it out.

If even Kix noticed that Anakin’s always under a lot of stress, though, is a little concerning. “Can I see him now?” Obi-Wan queries.

“Yes, but not for long. He needs to rest.”

Obi-Wan nods, slipping past him, heading into Anakin’s room.

The boy is lying on his side and pushes himself up on his elbow as Ob-Wan approaches. His face is flushed, and there’s still some bandages around his head, from where he was apparently injured in the crash.

“Hey, Master,” he croaks.

He does not look good.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan greets, stopping next to the bed, “How are you feeling?”

“I am… getting better,” he replies unconvincingly, which answers absolutely nothing.

Obi-Wan reaches closer, pressing a hand to his forehead. It’s burning hot as expected, but it still worries him.

“You don’t look like it,” he says, dryly, gently pushing Anakin back down on the bed, before taking a seat on the edge of it next to him. He looks so young in this moment, and it reminds Obi-Wan of how old he truly is. He’s only twenty, and Obi-Wan still had years left of being a padawan at that age. He’d thought Anakin would be able to handle it, but sometimes like right now he almost wonders. Especially if his stress levels are as high as Kix says.

Obi-Wan reaches over, brushing the hair out of Anakin’s face, then gently runs his hand through the boy’s hair for a moment, until he starts to relax. He’s always... extra touchy whenever he’s sick, for whatever reason.

He hates seeing Anakin like this, but he’s gotten used to it. “How are you really feeling?” he asks

“I have been worse.” Why can he not give him a straight answer about that? His answer always boils down to ‘I’ll be fine!’ or ‘I can still help!’ even when it’s clearly not true.

He finally pulls his hand back, and Anakin snuggles a little closer to him, so they’re still touching, like he’s afraid he’ll disappear.

[btsqualityy]

Assuage: Chapter 17

Yoongi x Reader

Genre: ABO (Alpha/Beta/Omega) dynamics, angst, fluff, smut, enemies to lovers

Warnings: None to note.

Author’s Note: Enjoy this calm chapter before the storm comes lol 

A few days later, Yoongi was still at a total loss when it came to trying to figure out how to tell you the truth.

On one hand, he didn’t want to risk making you upset and ruining your relationship that had been going so well up to this point. Also, he didn’t know how you might end up reacting and he didn’t want to risk potentially being shunned from this pack too, especially after he had made himself at home and really began to feel welcomed.  

On the other hand though, Yoongi knew that you deserved to know and he knew that it would be best if you heard it from Yoongi’s own mouth. Plus, Yoongi knew that if the roles were reversed, he’d want to know if he had been sleeping next to someone who had associations with the person who murdered his parents. 

“Y/N-ah?” Yoongi called out, a soft smile coming on to his face when you stepped into your living room.

“Yeah?” You replied.

“Come here,” Yoongi said, holding his hand out towards you and you paced over to him, placing your hand in his and letting him pull you down so that you were sat on the couch next to him. “I have something that I need to tell you.”

“Ok,” you nodded. “Shoot.”

“It’s kind of hard for me to tell you this, but I know that I should tell you,” he began, pausing to take a deep breath in and out before continuing. “You have to understand though Y/N-ah, I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know what?” You wondered. “Is everything ok?”

“Kind of, but this is just something that you need to know,” he responded. Just as he opened his mouth to continue, there was a loud knock on your front door. 

“Ignore that,” you said as you gave Yoongi your full attention. 

“Someone’s out there though,” Yoongi huffed. 

“It’s just Jungkook,” you shrugged after taking a quick sniff of the air. “It’s probably nothing important.” Right after those words left your mouth, Jungkook’s knocks became harder and more frantic sounding. 

“It could be important though,” Yoongi pointed out. “Go check.”

“You sure?” You asked as you stood up from the couch. “You sounded like you really had something to say there.”

“It’s nothing that can’t wait,” he assured you. “I’m good, go.” Even though you weren’t completely convinced, you walked away from the couch and over to the front door, reaching out and pulling it open to reveal a frazzled looking Jungkook.

“Hey Kook,” you smiled.

“Hyorin’s in labor,” he blurted out in lieu of a proper greeting and your eyes widened. 

“Right now?” You checked. 

“Right now,” Jungkook echoed. “Joon hyung, Hobi hyung, and I were going over security measures and Jimin ran to tell us that she had gone into labor while they were hanging out. Joon hyung ran home to be with her and sent me to come get you.”

“I’m on my way there now,” you nodded. “You better go tell Tae because he’ll be pissed if no one told him.”

“Don’t I know it?” Jungkook chuckled. “I’m going home after this and I’ll tell him once I get there.” After saying goodbye to each other, Jungkook ran off and you shut the front door before jogging down the hallway into your bedroom. 

“What’s going on?” Yoongi wondered.

“Hyo’s in labor,” you shouted back, and Yoongi could hear the sound of you throwing stuff around. 

“That’s exciting,” Yoongi smiled as you walked back into the living room, a large black bag in your hand. 

“Thank God I had the sense of mind to restock this medical bag the other day, so that I don’t have to waste time running to the infirmary,” you sighed before looking over at Yoongi. “You coming?”

“I’m invited?” He shot back with a laugh. 

“Tae’s gonna be there and he’ll need the company while he waits because he won’t leave until the baby is born, I know it,” you giggled. 

“I guess I’ve been convinced,” Yoongi replied with a smile. 

By the time that the two of you pulled on your shoes and jackets, left your cabin, and made it over to Namjoon and Hyorin’s cabin, Taehyung was already there pacing back and forth on their front porch.

“Y/N-ah!” Taehyung exclaimed when he saw you walking up the steps. “We’re about to be an aunt and uncle!”

“I know Tae, I am the one who’s about to deliver the baby,” you pointed out with a smile. Before Taehyung could reply though, the front door swung open and Namjoon stuck his head outside.

“Thank God you’re here,” Namjoon sighed heavily. “She’s in so much pain Y/N-ah.”

“Just calm down, calm down. Now, how far apart are her contractions?” You asked as you stepped inside of the house and Yoongi and Taehyung didn’t hear Namjoon’s answer because he shut the front door again as soon as you had stepped inside. 

“I really wish I could at least be in the house,” Taehyung huffed as he sat down on one of the chairs that was placed on the porch, and Yoongi took the liberty of sitting down in the chair right next to his as well. 

“Your brother would tear you apart if you got too close to his vulnerable mate,” Yoongi told him. 

“Stupid Alpha hormones,” Taehyung spat, making Yoongi laugh. 

“Yeah, they are pretty stupid sometimes,” Yoongi agreed. A few minutes of silence then passed over them before Taehyung spoke up again.

“You know, it’s times like this when I really wish our parents were still here,” Taehyung muttered. 

“That’s completely normal Taehyung,” Yoongi assured him. “It’s a big day.”

“I’ve gotten really good at compartmentalizing them over the years and not thinking about them but it’s days like today that make it hard to do that. Especially when I know that they should be here,” Taehyung added. 

“It’s definitely easier not to think about them if that helps you get through the day, but maybe getting it out can help too,” Yoongi suggested. “How do you think they would react if they were here?”

“Mom would’ve been absolutely over the moon,” Taehyung chuckled. “She probably would’ve been right in there with them, helping to keep Hyo calm. Our mom was really good at that, keeping people calm and reassuring them.”

“That sounds like you,” Yoongi replied and Taehyung just shook his head slightly. 

“I could only hope to be like her someday, and like our father,” Taehyung whispered. “Dad would’ve been so proud, because he always wanted to see the family line continue on.”

“I think all fathers are like that,” Yoongi laughed. “I know mines used to say ‘I want at least three grandchildren out of you, Min Yoongi’,”

“You know, I think our dad would’ve liked you,” Taehyung said, which made Yoongi freeze. “You’re a lot like him.”

“He was Prime, right?”

“Yeah, and it definitely had it’s good and bad sides,” Taehyung joked. “But even forgetting that, you have similar traits. I think that’s why Y/N-ah likes you, but don’t tell her I said that because she’ll do nothing but deny it.”

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me,” Yoongi muttered, and he couldn’t help but to start to feel even worse for not telling you the truth yet. Hearing what Taehyung said only made Yoongi worry more about how you were going to react when you finally learned the truth. All Yoongi knew was that he needed to tell you soon, because the last thing that he wanted to do was hurt you more than you were already going to be.

.................................

After an hour and a half of waiting, Taehyung and Yoongi were still sitting on the porch together.

“What the fuck is taking so long?” Taehyung groaned loudly.

“Taehyung, she’s having a baby,” Yoongi laughed. “They don’t just pop out.”

“Thank God I can’t have kids myself, I wouldn’t have the patience,” Taehyung huffed.

“Or be able to handle the pain,” Yoongi added.

“That too,” Taehyung nodded. 

“Do you ever think about it?” Yoongi wondered. “Having a pup?”

“Of course I do,” Taehyung admitted. “Thankfully though, there are always female omegas who are willing to help couples like me and Kook have pups. I want at least two, one that’ll be half of Kook and one that’ll be half of me.”

“That’s good,” Yoongi smiled. 

“What about you hyung?” Taehyung flipped the question. “Do you want pups?”

“Are you asking me if I want pups in general, or specifically with your sister?” Yoongi questioned. 

“Whichever you feel like answering,” Taehyung smirked knowingly. Just as Yoongi opened his mouth to reply, the front door opened and you stepped out onto the porch.

“Y/N-ah!” Taehyung exclaimed as he hurriedly stood up and rushed over to you. “How’d it go?! Is Hyo ok?! Is the baby ok?! Did Joon hyung faint?! I knew he probably would!” 

“Tae, calm down,” you giggled as you reached out and set your hands on his shoulders. “Hyo is just fine, she did beautifully and no, Joon didn’t faint which actually surprised me. And the babies are fine, both of them.”

“B-both of them?” Taehyung gasp.

“Come and meet your nieces,” you smiled giddily. 

.................................

“Ok, not to be biased or anything, but they are the cutest babies I’ve ever seen in my life,” Taehyung cooed as he held one of the girls in his arms. Hyorin and Namjoon were seated next to each other on their bed, Hyorin holding their other daughter in her arms. Yoongi hung back by the door in order not to get his scent too close to the babies since he wasn’t family, and you were shuffling around the room straightening things up from the delivery.

“You’re definitely biased, but you’re also not wrong,” Namjoon chuckled. “They’re gorgeous.”

“What are their names?” Yoongi asked. 

“The one that Tae is holding is the oldest and her name is Mi-ra, after their mom and the girls’ grandma,” Hyorin said as she looked over at Taehyung.

“And this little surprise,” Namjoon whispered as he reached over and let their daughter that Hyorin was holding grab onto his finger. “This is Sena, our youngest.”

“I can’t believe that you were having twins and didn’t tell anyone,” Taehyung huffed. 

“I didn’t know either,” Hyorin laughed. “I swear, I never felt more than one set of hands or feet moving around at a time throughout my pregnancy.”

“And I never saw more than one baby during the ultrasounds,” you spoke up. “The youngest one was hiding behind her sister the entire pregnancy.”

“Imagine how freaked out we were when Y/N delivered Mi-ra and then said that there was another baby,” Namjoon sighed.

“I was just pissed that I had to keep pushing,” Hyorin joked, making everyone laugh. 

“I guess we’re gonna have to get started on another crib for you guys then,” Yoongi smiled and Hyorin nodded thankfully at him. 

“If you could,” she grinned bashfully. 

“Hey Y/N-ah,” Namjoon called out to you, making you stop and look at him. “Did you bring the stuff to do the test?”

“What test?” Taehyung questioned. 

“Some Beta doctors in Seoul have been working on testing that would help predict someone’s subgender before they present,” you explained. “Kind of like how an ultrasound reveals their primary gender.”

“I didn’t even know that was a thing,” Yoongi said.

“It’s a new thing,” you smiled at him. “It’s only been developed within the last few years and it’s only been shown to be about 78%, 79% accurate.”

“Joon and I thought it might be fun just to see,” Hyorin shrugged. 

“I can still do it,” you told her. “I have the liquids here with me.” Namjoon and Hyorin looked at each other for a few seconds before they both turned and nodded their heads at you. Moving over to your bag, you took out a small bottle of liquid and a dropper before stepping over to where Taehyung was holding Mi-ra. 

“How does it work?” Taehyung wondered as you unscrewed the cap on the bottle and then stuck the dropper inside, sucking up some of the liquid before removing it.

“I just place a small amount on her scent gland and whatever color the liquid turns corresponds to what her subgender might be,” you said as you gently took a hold of Mi-ra’s hand, turning it over so that her little wrist was facing upwards before squeezing a tiny dot onto her skin. The clear liquid seemed to melt onto her skin before turning a dark brown color.

“Probably an Alpha,” you announced. “Typical of first borns in this family.”

“Wow,” Namjoon murmured excitedly. You then moved over to the bed where Hyorin had already pried Sena’s hand away from Namjoon’s and turned her wrist over for you. You followed the same steps, letting a small amount of the liquid drop onto her wrist and you were shocked when you saw the color turn white. 

“What?” Hyorin prompted you when she saw your reaction.

“She’s probably a Beta,” you chuckled in disbelief. 

“Seriously?” Taehyung gasped loudly. “That’s so fucking cool!”

“Tae, calm down,” Namjoon chastised him with a smile. “The test isn’t 100% accurate.”

“Joon’s right,” you nodded. “The test could be wrong and it also doesn’t tell us if one or the both of them are Prime or not, which is a good possibility given our family line. The only way we’ll know for sure is when they’re old enough to present.”

“But still, it’ll be so cool not being the only Beta anymore,” Taehyung squealed. 

“A hidden twin and will probably end up being the first Beta in the pack in years,” Yoongi summed up. “Seems like little Sena has a lot to live up to.”

“That she does,” Hyorin cooed as she looked down at Sena, who was yawning widely now. “Our extra little miracle.”

Suddenly, there was a loud clang that sounded like the front door and before you knew it, Hobi was poking his head into the bedroom.

“Hey, get out,” you moved over to shoo him away. “The babies are still too new for you to bring your scent around them.”

“Babies? As in more than one?” Hobi gasped before shaking his head and looking past you to Namjoon. “Regardless, it’s an emergency.” 

“Whatever it is can wait a day or two,” Namjoon told him. “My children were just born Seok-ah, so I’m sure Tae or Y/N can handle things in the meantime.”

“I do recognize that but I also hope that you realize that I wouldn’t have even come here if it weren’t vitally important,” Hobi pointed out. 

“Joon,” Hyorin spoke up, making him look over at her. “Go ahead.”

“But you and the babies.”

“We’re fine,” Hyorin said. “Y/N-ah is here for me just in case, I got Sena, and I doubt Tae is gonna let go of Mi-ra anytime soon.”

“Got that right,” Taehyung confirmed. 

“Go,” she repeated. After hesitating for a few more seconds, Namjoon got up off of the bed and walked over to the door where you, Hobi, and Yoongi were standing. 

“What’s going on?”

“Seo-hyun’s pack just breached our territory and they’re headed this way,” Hobi revealed, making yours, Namjoon’s, and Yoongi’s eyes widen. “Now.”

.................................

Tag List: @jikook-enthusiasts @veryuniquenamegoeshere @seolarsyj @littlrmills14-blog @preciouschimine @kt-rny @copenhagenspirit

[marjansmarwani]

trust that there will be light always waiting behind

8.4k || ao3

TK has gone out of his way to prove to Carlos that being a paramedic is every bit as dangerous as being a firefighter, it seems.

But Carlos will do whatever it takes to find him and bring him home safe, and he always will. Even if it means he needs to face some personal demons on the way. But it's worth it - he refuses to lose TK for anything. ------ A 2x08 speculative fic

All the kudos and thanks to @officereyes for not only convincing me to actually write this but for also brainstorming with me, a lot. 

Will it happen like this? Probably not. But we can dream. All I can ask for is some quality Carlos and his dad content, and maybe Owen not being as shitty as he has been lately. But because I don't trust Fox to give us that, I wrote it.

Title from "Six" by Sleeping at Last

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

TK wasn’t sure how things had gone from normal to total nightmare in a matter of seconds, but here they were. 

In this case “here” meant that the pregnant woman they were meant to be helping was not in fact, pregnant and that he and his team were now being held at gunpoint in an empty parking garage. 

So yeah, total nightmare. And the day had started off so well. 

He stood quietly, body tense with his hands up wishing he had been paying more attention; that he had noticed them coming from behind before they had gotten the drop on them. That he had noticed before he and his team were in danger. But he hadn’t and here they were: at gunpoint looking at a critically injured patient they were expected to save with only the gear in their medpacks. Which was especially bad, considering it seemed pretty clear that their survival depended on his. 

He exchanged a glance with Nancy as he pulled open the bag to start grabbing gear, doing his best to shoot her a reassuring smile. All the while he couldn’t help but think about something Carlos had said when he had discussed becoming a paramedic with him. One of the pros, he had noted wryly as he planted a kiss on the top of TK’s head, was that at least his boyfriend being a paramedic instead of a firefighter would mean he would have to worry less. TK had rolled his eyes at the time but now he could say quite firmly that Carlos was wrong. 

After all, he had never been held at gunpoint as a firefighter. 

----------

A surprise party worked best when the person who is supposed to be surprised shows up, Carlos figured. 

If it were anyone else, he might have been amused. But it was TK, who was supposed to be at his parent’s house for his surprise party 40 minutes ago. Tommy and Nancy were going to bring him by after shift but instead, none of them had shown up and Carlos couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. 

He could see the unease growing in the eyes of some of the others too as they made the transition from amused to concerned as the time ticked by. Carlos had tried calling TK almost a dozen times now, only to get his voicemail each time. He knew that Tommy and Nancy had gotten calls too, from Judd and Marjan respectively, with the same result. Now, 40 minutes later it had moved from a feeling to a fact: something was wrong. He could see Owen off to the side of the yard now, speaking lowly into his phone as he tried to get an update from dispatch. His expression was grim and when he ended the call Carlos crossed the yard towards him. 

“Well?” he asked when he drew close enough, “what did they say?” 

Owen shook his head, “They can’t reach the unit, and it hasn’t been in contact for over an hour.” 

Carlos could feel the fear solidifying within him even as he asked the next question, “Were they able to tell you where?” 

“I’m waiting on that info now.” 

Even as he said it his phone dinged with an incoming text and Carlos craned his neck to read the address over Owen’s shoulder. 

“That’s not too far,” he said, “if we leave now we should be there within the hour.” At Owen’s surprised look he raised an eyebrow, “What? You thought I was just going to stay here while you go look for them? Not likely.” 

Owen nodded and managed a small smile, “Let’s go then. We have a paramedic team to find.” 

--------

It took some negotiating but Tommy had managed to ultimately convince the people with guns that their friend would be better off receiving treatment in the ambulance rather than in the back of a van. As they packed up their supplies and got the patient ready to move to the ambulance TK’s mind was racing through all the implications. This move meant that they were planning on relocating, which meant that they would be leaving their last known location. Once they left this parking garage unless they were somehow able to check-in, dispatch would have no way of knowing where they were and they would be officially labeled as MIA. 

Which was less than ideal, but did at least mean that someone would be looking for them. TK pushed the used gauze into a pile, taking care to make sure that his back was turned to their kidnappers as he reached for his neck and pulled at his necklace until the chain came undone. He slid it under the edge of the pile, where it would hopefully be spotted by anyone looking for clues. He looked up to see Nancy and Tommy both giving him curious looks. He met their eyes and mouthed, “Carlos.” 

Once they were reported missing there was a zero percent chance that his boyfriend would not be involved in the search, he knew that without a doubt. It was subtle enough that it would hopefully pass their captors’ notice, but Carlos would recognize it instantly. It was something that would tell him that they had been here, and that they were in danger. Carlos would know that TK wouldn’t have parted with the pendant otherwise. 

Nancy raised an eyebrow and Tommy shot him a quick smile as they finished their prep and got ready to move the patient. When they entered the ambulance and got the patient settled TK crossed to the cab and pulled himself into the driver’s seat, only to look down and get a sinking feeling. While traveling by ambulance would be ultimately better for the patient (and by extension, them) TK had also been banking on the fact that once in the ambulance there would be more opportunities to call for help. 

Which was a hope quickly dashed when he saw that their radio had been ripped out, effectively eliminating the possibility of getting help that way. TK bit his lip and turned his eyes to the road in front of him as the armed man climbed into the cab beside him. “Drive,” he instructed plainly and TK complied, switching on the engine and shifting the vehicle into gear, acutely aware of the gun leveled at his chest the entire time. Getting shot was not an experience he had been looking forward to relieving ever again if he could help it. 

“Where to?” he asked.

“Just drive and I direct you.” 

TK nodded and slowly pulled forward, keeping his eyes trained on the road. 

Maybe, just maybe these people were more reasonable than they seemed and maybe this wouldn’t end in disaster, TK thought to himself as he pulled out of the parking garage and headed to the right as instructed. They just need to keep everything calm until help arrived. Because it would, TK was sure of it. 

--------

The ride there was filled with tense silence, their combined anxiety filling the car to capacity and leaving no room for words. Carlos kept an eye on the phone in his hand, the small blue dot tracing their location and showing their progress as they grew closer and closer to the destination flag. They were almost there. They would have answers soon, one way or another. 

He spared a glance at Owen. The fire captain’s eyes were glued to the road and his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles shining white against the black upholstery. His jaw was set and his expression was full of a panic Carlos was sure was reflected in his own face. He wondered if Owen was thinking the same thing: things had been going so well. Possibly too well, and now the universe was looking to even the score. Carlos hated the thought — TK deserved all the good things the world had to offer, in his opinion — but it was one he couldn’t help but wonder. He just hoped that no matter what, TK would be okay. No matter what the universe was trying to throw at them as long as he was safe at the end, Carlos could take it. 

Reaching the parking garage had been the easy part, it turned out. He and Owen drove the levels in tense silence, each scanning for any clues, any signs of the missing paramedics. It wasn’t until he saw a black panel van parked haphazardly that Carlos broke the tense silence: “Stop the car!” 

Owen did and Carlos was out his door before the car had even lurched to a complete stop. He ran to the van, heart sinking as he noticed the back doors hanging open. He approached with increased trepidation, not sure what he was hoping to find. When he reached the back and got his first look inside the van, he was pretty sure this wasn’t it. 

Bloody gauze and other medical scraps littered the ground, along with three broken cell phones, all of which seemed to have been smashed. Carlos could feel dread building in his gut as he surveyed the destruction. He sensed Owen come up behind him, heard the low curse he let out at the scene. 

“There’s no saying any of the blood is theirs,” he reminded Carlos as if he could read the frantic thoughts racing through his mind, each possibility worse than the last. 

Carlos bit back a retort — there was no good in reminding Owen that there was no saying it wasn’t either — and was about to ask another question when he noticed something silver poking out from under one of the gauze scraps. He leaned forward to grab it, heart sinking when he pulled it out to reveal a very familiar necklace. 

“Maybe,” he told Owen as he turned, holding up the necklace while the FDNY pendant glinting in the low light of the parking garage, “but they were definitely here.”

Carlos hadn’t been sure it was possible but he was certain he saw the fear in Owen’s eyes grow as he took the necklace from Carlos, running his thumb over the numbers engraved in the pendant. “He left this as a clue,” he said quietly, and Carlos nodded. 

“Which probably means they were taken somewhere else and TK wanted us to know they were here.” 

Owen nodded, pulling his gaze up from the necklace to meet Carlos’s eyes, “We need to find them.”

His voice was tinged in desperation, a feeling Carlos knew well. He nodded and reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone as he took another look at the mess in the back of the van. “We will,” he told Owen, “and I think I know someone that can help.” 

------

Their destination had turned out to be an abandoned restaurant, shuttered by the pandemic. As workspaces went it wasn’t a bad one, if a little dusty, and they got their patient set up on a prep table in no time, falling into their usual rhythm as they returned to this relative familiarity. TK was currently retrieving supplies from one of their cases and running through the situation in his head, separating it into pros and cons. 

Pro: they had come here in an ambulance with their house number clearly painted on it in broad daylight. Once people started looking it shouldn’t be too hard to spot. 

Con: they were deep into a neighborhood known for being an entertainment district. While traffic had decreased significantly overall since the start of the pandemic it was nearly non-existent this early in the day. The odds of a casual observer being in the neighborhood were slim to none, which was not a thought that brought much comfort. 

The man shouted at him to hurry up and TK quickly added another con to his list as he grabbed the last thing and crossed back to the table: their kidnappers were not reasonable people and every moment that passed seemed to push them just that much closer to the edge. Even as he thought it the woman edged closer to Nancy, causing her to tense as the cold metal of the gun was pressed against her side. 

“Hey,” he said firmly, “if you want us to save your friend, you need to let us work. That means you and your guns should be at least 6 feet away. It’s a little hard to focus otherwise.” 

The woman glanced at the man, who was studying TK. TK met his gaze steadily, not looking away until the man nodded and turned to his companion, “Go wait by the door, just in case. They’re not going anywhere.” 

She nodded and TK could breathe easier as she stepped away from Nancy, who visibly relaxed and shot TK a grateful look. Tommy eyed him quickly before returning her focus to the patient. “I appreciate what you’re doing, Strand, but in the future maybe let’s try to not antagonize the criminals with guns, yeah?” 

TK nodded as he worked, “Sorry Cap, I just really don’t like guns. Chalk it up to bad personal experience.” 

Nancy grimaced at the reminder and Tommy nodded, “Then let's keep this calm, no one needs to get shot today. I’m not losing another member of my crew, you both got that?” 

“Yes Cap,” TK and Nancy chorused, lapsing into silence as they worked. Unfortunately, with their supplies, there was only so much they could do. They had had a busy morning before this call had come in and no time to restock in between. They were running low on pretty much everything, and everything they had would have hardly been enough to repair the damage before them on a good day. But, despite everything, he was still a patient and he was still in need of treatment so they did what they always did: everything they could. 

Even as they worked TK made sure to keep one eye on their kidnappers. With each passing minute, they seemed to get more and more restless, and increasingly desperate. The woman even seemed twitchy and TK vaguely wondered if she was going through withdrawal. All the signs were there and if she was that made their situation even worse. TK knew how that felt first hand and knew what it could do to a person’s mental state. The idea that she might be coming down from a high and was currently pointing a gun at them was less than ideal and he mentally added it to his con list. 

Surprisingly, she wasn’t the one to crack first. TK was helping Captain Vega to do what they could to clean and secure the entry wound when the man stepped closer, waving the gun around as he shouted, “What is taking so long? We’ve been here too long, we need to get moving!”  

“Do you want it done right or do you want it done fast?” Tommy asked evenly, her voice calm and level. 

The man scowled at that, but stepped away, “Just, go as fast as you can.”

TK watched him walk away, glancing at the clock above the door and cursing before running his free hand across his face, the hand holding the gun tapping against his leg. 

“He’s spiraling Cap,” TK noted softly, “we might need a plan if you want to avoid that whole one of us getting shot thing.” 

“And we’ll find one,” Tommy agreed, “but for now we stick with the original one: do our jobs and keep calm.” 

TK nodded tersely and continued with the task at hand. It was only a few more moments before his Captain gave a soft curse and he looked over to see her scowling at the bag next to her. “We’re out of saline,” she said in answer to his questioning look, “can you go see if there is any more in that bag by the door?” 

TK nodded and crossed the bag laying on the ground next to the door they had entered. As he grew closer he noticed that the bag wasn’t the only thing by the door: a fire alarm, bright red against the white of the walls and shining like a beacon of hope as he drew closer, was situated on the wall just past the bag. If he could reach it and pull it, dispatch would be notified. A fire company and at least one APD unit would be called and the alarm might be enough of a distraction for them to get out of here and get somewhere safe until help arrived. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder to see that the two armed assailants were not watching him and made up his mind. He was going to pull it, and hope for the best. If it doesn’t work it’ll have been his idea and his idea alone — the rest of his team doesn't need to be involved in this. This was a stupid choice he could make for himself and by himself. 

He stepped forward, hardly daring to breathe as he drew closer. He was just about to reach out his hand when he heard footsteps behind him, loud and fast. He turned in time to see a hand reaching for him, aiming to strike him with the side of the gun. He ducked, the hand missing his target as he dodged the blow. The man came for him again and TK managed to dodge the next blow as well, and the one after that. 

They moved away from the wall and TK had the frantic thought that maybe he could get the gun away from him, maybe he could actually get the upper hand. He reached for it, throwing himself into the man’s space and reaching around for his arm. He leaned closer, so intent on his goal that he didn’t notice the man rummaging on the nearby shelf with his free hand. He didn’t notice his other hand at all until a sharp pain ripped through his side, causing him to release his grip on the other man involuntarily. He stumbled back, hands reaching blindly to the source of the pain coursing through his body. He felt a warm and sticky wetness and was about to lift his hand to examine it when he felt another sharp pain which caused his vision to go white before everything went black and he knew no more. 

-----

Carlos hadn’t had to say too much before his dad had agreed to help out. One of the perks of being a Ranger, Gabriel reminded his son, was getting to choose the cases he focused on from time to time. He wasn’t sure if it was the words he had said or the tone of his voice that had done the convincing but within two minutes his dad had taken down the address and was on his way. He had said he was likely 10 minutes out but each one of those minutes seemed to stretch on endlessly. 

He and Owen waited in tense silence, neither saying a word since Carlos had hung up the phone with the news that a Texas Ranger was on the case. Owen had raised an eyebrow but after Carlos clarified that it was his dad his expression had shifted to something unreadable and Carlos wondered how much Owen knew about his parental situation in regards to TK. 

He didn’t have to wait long to find out, as it happened. About 4 minutes into their wait, after Owen had made a phone call to Gwyn and Carlos had sent out some updates to the team, Owen cleared his throat, turning to Carlos before he spoke. 

“I don’t want to pry, Carlos, but TK mentioned something about you and your parents a few months ago and I just want to know where that stands. I don’t want to make things weird for you, but I also don’t want to accidentally reveal any information you’re not okay with.”

Carlos nodded, feeling a rush of appreciation for the older man’s tact as he responded, “They know I’m gay,” he told Owen plainly, “but they don’t know I’m in a relationship. They’ve never known about any of my relationships, we just don’t talk about it. When TK and I ran into them at the farmer’s market I introduced him as a friend and as far as they know that’s the truth.” Carlos turned to see Owen’s reaction, not sure what to expect. Anger maybe? Frustration or upset? 

When he did turn he didn’t see any of those. Instead, the older man’s face was neutral as he nodded. “They won’t find out otherwise from me,” Owen promised him, and Carlos nodded his thanks, letting out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding. He was surprised, however, when Owen continued talking. 

“I know it’s not my place to tell you how to interact with your parents,” he began, “but for what it’s worth, I would never want TK to keep something that was important to him from me because he was worried it might make me upset or uncomfortable. From everything you and TK have said about your parents, I wouldn’t be surprised if they felt the same way.” 

Carlos could feel Owen’s gaze on him, steady and reassuring despite everything, and he nodded. He could feel Owen’s words rattling inside his head, but there was no way to process them right now, not when the fear of possibly losing TK and the worry that his danger-prone boyfriend was missing was so soundly occupying the forefront of his thoughts. 

He was still trying to parse through it all when he heard the sound of a vehicle approaching. He stood as he recognized his dad’s truck, crossing to meet him as he pulled to a stop. “Thank you,” he told his dad as he stepped out, “I really appreciate this.” 

“Anything for you, mijo,” his dad assured him with a smile, “all you have to do is ask. Which you rarely do, which tells me this is pretty important.”

There’s something else there, in his dad’s words and his expression, that tells Carlos that his dad knows there is something Carlos isn’t telling him, but he ignores it. It didn’t matter right now — nothing mattered except for finding TK. “Still,” he says instead before turning to Owen who has been hovering at the back of the van. “This is TK’s dad, Captain Owen Strand of the 126.” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Captain,” Gabriel says with a nod, “I wish it were under better circumstances.”

“Likewise,” Owen replies quickly before diving right in. “Were you able to find out anything yet?”

“Actually yes,” Gabriel admitted and Carlos tensed at the expression on his dad’s face. It was the one he used when he tried to break bad news gently. “We think we may have identified the suspects. There was a bank robbery this morning and the suspects fled in a van matching the description Carlos gave me. There were three suspects — two who entered the bank and one getaway driver — and bank security thinks that they hit one of them while exchanging fire as they fled.” 

There was so much information trying to squeeze into Carlos’s head now. None of it was good but one fact jumped out amongst the others. The suspects had exchanged fire with the security guards which meant…

“They’re armed,” he said tersely, the dread he had already been feeling threatening to overtake him now, “the suspects are armed.” 

“And they needed the paramedics to treat their partner,” his dad agreed grimly.

“Do we know anything about what kind of shape the injured suspect was in?” Owen asked and Carlos could tell that his mind had gone to the same place his own had: if the paramedics were not able to save the injured bank robber, things didn’t look great for them. Their best hope was for a minor injury but judging by the amount of bloody gauze in the back of the van and the fact that it was a gunshot wound the chances for that were slim to non-existent. 

Gabriel shook his head, “No, and the security cams in this parking garage are just for show, I already had someone check.” 

So TK and his team were being held at gunpoint, being asked to provide medical care that should be done in a trauma room, and there was no way of saying where they had been taken or if they were okay. Carlos could feel his chest tighten in panic as the hopelessness of the situation set in. 

“Are there any leads?” he asked, not even bothering to hide the desperation in his voice. 

“Well, they did leave in an ambulance, and that’s not exactly subtle,” his dad reminded him bracingly. “We’ve put out a bulletin — every cop, sheriff, and ranger will be looking for it. We’ll find them, mjio.” 

Carlos nodded because he didn’t trust himself to speak and because he desperately needed it to be true. They needed to find them, and TK needed to be okay. Nothing short of that would be enough. 

----------

TK knew he was somewhere he shouldn’t be, but he couldn’t seem to do anything about it.

There were voices nearby, but TK couldn’t process any of them. Some of them sounded familiar but others were foreign; unknown with a hostile edge. He tried to open his eyes, to try and take stock of his surroundings but all he could see were vague and blurry shapes. He thought that someone called his name but he couldn’t bring himself to answer. The only thing he knew for sure was that he was in pain, and he was in danger. 

The pull of the darkness was stronger than any fear or curiosity, however, and it washed back over him without hesitation, pulling him back under.

---------

Riding in his dad’s truck with his dad and Owen Strand would have been awkward on a good day but today, with his mind full of fear for TK and the tension of the secret between them all, it was unbearable. Carlos couldn’t stop his leg from bouncing anxiously against the floor — the exact same nervous tick he teased TK about on an almost daily basis. The irony wasn’t lost on him, or Owen it seemed as the man leaned forward from the back seat to put a steadying hand on his shoulder, empathetic eyes meeting his own in the rearview. Gabriel kept up a steady stream of one-sided chatter, undaunted by the lack of response from his traveling companions. Every once in a while his radio would crackle to life and Carlos could swear that he could feel his heart seize each and every time. 

But every time it was the same: no news, no one had spotted the ambulance yet. Crime scene techs had scoured the van and surrounding area, pulling fingerprints and looking for anything else that could give them a lead on who these people were and where they may have gone. Carlos knew all too well that criminals, especially ones involved in crimes that took as much planning as a bank robbery did, were creatures of habit. If they had somewhere they felt was safe and secluded enough, they would go there. It was up to them to find it.  

Carlos knew that his anxiety had not gone unnoticed by his father. He sent him surreptitious glances from time to time, in between radio updates and idle chatter. Finally, he asked a question: “You really care about this TK, don’t you?” 

The opening was there, Carlos could see it. A part of his mind told him his dad must too, to open the door so plainly. But the fear of what could happen, of what he has convinced himself he stands to lose is too much. There was already so much fear in his heart from this nightmare he was trapped in, he can’t stand any more. So he nodded and simply answered, “Yeah, I do.” 

He tried not to notice the disappointment and pity he could feel from all sides as Owen met his eyes again in the mirror. But his boyfriend’s father stayed silent as promised and Carlos looked away, turning his attention to the window instead. He knew he needed to tell them, he had been coming closer to making that decision on his own with each passing day. Now he just had to hope that they both survived this one and that there would still be something to tell at the end of it all. 

His pessimistic spiral was interrupted by the familiar crackle of the radio. He listened absently as his dad grabbed it and at the words that came in response. At least he was only listening absently until some of the words processed in his mind: “Ambulance 126 has been spotted in an alley off W. Fourth St.” 

His heart was working on beating its way out of his chest now. He sat upright, looking around frantically to get their bearings. They were only a few blocks east of West Fourth, they could be there in minutes. He relayed this to his dad who nodded before flipping on his lightbar and heading in the direction of the address provided. As they drove Carlos sent his desperate hopes out to the universe. Let them all be okay, let them actually be in or at least nearby the ambulance. Above all, let TK be safe. 

As they sped through the city that was the thought that Carlos played on a loop in his head. Let TK be safe, and everything else would be fine 

----------

TK came to awareness slowly and at first, the only thing he was truly aware of was the feeling of someone repeatedly tapping his cheek. 

“Cut it out,” he whined and heard a relieved sigh in response. 

“He’s awake,” a voice — Nancy? — declared and TK tried to open his eyes. It took several tries but he managed, painstakingly blinking them open to reveal the worried faces of his Captain and his partner staring down at him. 

“Hey guys,” he said as he tried to pull himself into a sitting position, “why the long faces?” 

Captain Vega looked unimpressed with his efforts and pushed him back down onto the ground. “Don’t try to play nice with me Strand after you did that. Of all the reckless, foolhardy things. I really thought you had more sense than that.” 

TK frowned at her, trying to piece together all the uncategorized shapes and sensations floating through his hazy mind, “What do you…” he began, but broke off when a sharp pain ripped through his side and Nancy pressed gauze down onto his side, “oh.” 

It was coming back now. 

“Yeah, ‘oh,’” his Captain scoffed, “what were you thinking TK?” 

“I was thinking that they were getting more and more unhinged the longer we were here and that if I had been able to pull the fire alarm dispatch would be notified and it would have given us enough of a distraction we could have maybe saved ourselves,” he said defensively, trying hard to sound assertive when even just the dim lights of the kitchen were causing explosions of pain in his head. 

“And how did that go for you?” 

“Not great,” he admitted. “How long was I out?” 

“Not too long,” Nancy told him as she lifted up the gauze to check on his stab wound, “and I’ve got the bleeding slowed but this wound is pretty deep. Not to mention the knife did not look particularly sterile so this needs treatment, soon.” She nodded towards the abandoned blood-covered chef’s knife on the ground that the man must have grabbed during their scuffle, and TK groaned. 

“So probable infection,” he muttered, “great.” 

“Not to mention with the width of that knife likely some significant damage,” Tomy reminded him, her unimpressed look holding firm.

“It’s not like I had any way of knowing he was going to find a knife, to be fair.” 

“To be fair, I would think the guns should have been enough of a deterrent,” Tommy countered. “Wasn’t getting shot once enough for you?” 

TK shifted uncomfortably under his Captain’s gaze and was about to fire back a retort when Nancy interrupted, “Can you both knock it off? Yes, that was incredibly stupid TK and if you weren’t already hurt I probably would have hit you myself. But it was also pretty brave, Cap, and he meant well. Either way, arguing about it is not going to change the fact that we’re still being held hostage and TK is still hurt so maybe it would be best if you both stopped, for my sanity if nothing else.” 

She gave them both a hard look and TK did his best approximation of a nod with his throbbing head, not eager to be on his partner’s bad side. Tommy nodded as well, though the look she gave TK promised that they would be revisiting this later, assuming there was a later. He cleared his throat and glanced towards the table where their patient was still laid out, “How is he?” 

“Stable, for now,” Tommy answered, following his gaze. “He’s going to need more blood than we can give him though: his friends don’t know his blood type and we only have so much O neg on hand.” 

TK nodded, reading in between the lines of what his Captain wasn’t saying: he didn’t have much longer and if he didn’t, neither did they. “What are the others up to?” 

“Arguing,” Nancy said softly, “about what to do with us.” 

TK turned his gaze to them and though he couldn’t hear their words, he had a feeling he knew what they were saying and it wasn’t good. His suspicions were confirmed a few moments later when they approached. 

“That’s enough of that,” the man informed them, gesturing roughly to where Nancy was tending to TK’s stab wound, “get away from him.” 

“He needs—” Nancy tried to argue, but TK put a hand on her arm and gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile before holding out a hand for the supplies.

“It’s okay,” he told her, “I can handle it from here.” 

She didn’t look impressed or convinced, but a wave of the gun prompted her to hand them over and pull herself up from the floor, stepping in the direction indicated by the woman. The man looked down at TK with disdain, “You’re done causing trouble,” he announced, “Because if you do it again, I will start shooting, but I won’t be aiming at you. Got it?” 

TK swallowed and nodded. What else could he really say to that? He wasn’t about to risk his team’s safety for anything. 

“Good,” the man declared with a nod, “glad we’re on the same page.” He turned to Nancy and Tommy now, “Is he stable enough to be moved right now?” 

“He’s as stable as we can make him with what we have on hand,” Tommy told him calmly. 

“Then we’re moving,” he declared, “we have another van stashed nearby. We’re going to move out,” he gestured towards himself and his companion, “and we’re taking our friend and this one with us.” 

When all eyes turned to him TK realized “this one” meant him with a start. Which was...less than ideal, but at least he would know that the other two were out of danger and could probably get help. 

“Absolutely not,” Tommy said in her firmest tone, “he’s injured, he needs treatment.” 

“Which is why I know he’ll be no trouble,” the man countered, “plus he’s a paramedic, isn’t he? He can treat himself. I’ll let you give him some supplies, I’m not unreasonable.” 

TK could practically see Tommy’s anger rising from his position on the floor and he spoke up before his Captain could say anymore, “It’s okay Cap,” he said, hoping his voice sounded more sure out loud than it did to his own ears, “I’ll be fine.” 

Tommy turned her gaze to him and was more likely than not going to tell him how many ways that was not happening, but any arguments she may have made were abruptly cut off by the sound of the door banging open and a barrage of police officers entering the scene, guns raised. 

TK let himself sag against the wall in relief as he saw their two assailants surrounded and even more when he spotted a familiar gaze in the crowd, filled with fear and worry as it grew closer to him. 

“Carlos,” he said quietly, managing to pull a small smile to his face. 

“Hey Ty,” Carlos said roughly, reaching out to run a hand through his hair even as he surveyed him for damage. His eyes widened and his jaw clenched as he spotted the bloody gauze poking out from underneath his hand just above his hip. 

He reached for it, but TK called his name softly before shaking his head ever so slightly, “leave it be, I’ll be fine. I’m just so happy to see you.”  

Carlos looked like he wanted to argue but he bit his lip, turning instead to the crowd behind them. TK followed his gaze and froze when he spotted Gabriel Reyes amongst the officers. He pulled away from Carlos ever so slightly, “Your dad…” he began, but Carlos shook his head, gripping TK hands tighter, not letting him pull away. 

“That doesn’t matter right now,” he told him, “all that matters is that you’re safe.” 

TK had so many questions, but his head was swimming. He wasn’t sure if it was the blood loss or the head injury, but it was getting harder and harder to follow a fluid thought. He opened his mouth to try and ask any of them but was saved from the trouble of doing that by his dad appearing at his side, expression anxious as he kneeled down. He looked him over before calling over his shoulder for a medic and TK tried really hard to follow what was happening but it was becoming so much harder with each passing moment. 

He was so disoriented he almost missed the commotion that erupted around them. All he knew was that Carlos’s hand was suddenly gone from his and he blinked several times, forcing himself to focus on what was happening around them. The woman had somehow managed to free herself of the officer cuffing her and had managed to grab her gun again. She was waving it frantically and shouting, but her words were a blur to TK. All he could focus on now was the fact that Carlos was closest to her, and that he was stepping closer to her. 

That he was standing firmly between her and TK. 

The rest of the world might be a blur of noise and light but this was clear as day. Carlos was stepping towards the woman, hands raised as he tried to speak calmly to her. But TK knew in his heart that he had been right about her state and knew that there would be no reasoning with her. But he also knew that Carlos would try, because that’s what Carlos did. He helped people, no matter what. 

The next moment happened in a blink of an eye but TK saw it as if in slow motion. Carlos took a step forward, his soothing voice still speaking to her, still vibrating its way through the air as another sound erupted between them, eclipsing Carlos’s voice. 

It was the sound of a gun firing and TK could do nothing but watch in horror as Carlos’s stride faltered before he stumbled. He could do nothing but try to call out his name with whatever breath he still had in his lungs as Carlos went down, and he could do nothing but feel his heart shatter when he didn’t get up. 

TK tried to go to him, tried to push himself off the ground. He needed to help, he needed to save Carlos. But his body wouldn’t listen. The pain in his side sliced through him again with a vengeance and the last thing TK saw was Carlos’s unmoving body before his vision faded to black and he knew no more; left with the worst sight he had ever seen in his life as company as he fell into the darkness.  

-------

Carlos woke slowly, bits and pieces of his surroundings making themselves known to him and helping to fill in the blanks in his mind: he was in the hospital, he had been hurt, he had been searching for TK…

And that was the thought that brought him back to consciousness. He opened his eyes with a gasp, feeling hands on him instantly. “TK,” he tried to ask, “is he…”

“Relax, mijo,” his dad told him soothingly, “TK is safe. He just woke up from his own surgery a short while ago. His dad assures me that he’s fine, and asking about you.” 

Carlos took a deep breath and willed his heartbeat to slow. TK was alive, they had found him. He was hurt, but he was doing okay and Owen was with him. That did answer a lot of his questions, but there were still so many left. Starting with, “What happened?” he asked his dad. 

Gabriel settled into the chair at the side of the bed, leaving a hand on Carlos’s arm as he studied him, “What do you remember, Carlos?”

“I remember TK and his team going missing, calling you, and finding them. After that, not much.” 

Gabriel nodded and his hand on Carlos’s arm tightened, “One of the kidnappers, the woman, went a little crazy when your colleagues tried to bring her in. She freed herself from the officer’s trying to cuff her and you were closest. Well,” he amended, “you and TK. But you put yourself between them and tried to talk her down. It…” his dad broke off, clearing his throat and continuing with a thick voice, “it didn’t go well. You were shot, Carlos, right in front of me. I was so scared I was going to lose you, mijo. You cannot scare me like that, I am an old man.” 

Despite it all, Carlos chuckled, “Please, you are not old dad. There are 20-year-olds older than you.” 

His teasing didn’t put a dent into his father’s upset, and Carlos sobered, “I’m sorry,” he said instead, “that can’t have been easy. I know what it’s like to see someone you care about hurt like that. I’m sorry you had to see that, dad.”

Gabriel shook his head, leaning forward again, “You have nothing to apologize for Carlos,” he said firmly, “you only did what you thought was best, what you needed to do to protect the man you love.” 

Carlos’s breath caught in his throat and his eyes widened, but his dad held his gaze, a small smile playing on his lips, “You are not subtle, mijo. I had a feeling since this all started, but the moment I saw you with him, I knew.” 

“I’m sorry I kept this from you and mom,” Carlos apologized softly, “that I lied to you when we met at the Farmer’s Market.” 

“Stop apologizing Carlos,” Gabriel instructed, his tone matching his son’s, “you have nothing to apologize for. If anyone should be apologizing I think it should be me. Clearly, I did something or said something that made you feel like you couldn’t share this and for that I am so, so sorry. I never wanted you to feel like you had to hide anything from us, especially not this. I’m...” he trailed off and Carlos was surprised to see tears in his dad’s eyes, “I’m just sorry,” Gabriel finished, “I need you to know that. That and the fact that both your mother and I love you so much, no matter what.”  

“I do know that,” Carlos assured him, “I never doubted that for a second.” 

His father smiled at him and Carlos could feel a weight that had been subtly resting on him for nearly 10 years lifted. He met his father’s eyes and returned the smile. 

“Dad,” he said clearly, with a confidence that had been so many years coming, “I have a boyfriend. His name is TK Strand, and I love him. He means everything to me.” 

“I’m happy for you Carlos,” his father told him, a soft smile covering his face, “you deserve nothing but the most wonderful love the world has to offer, and I hope this boy can give you that.” 

“He can,” Carlos assured him, “he does.” 

----------

TK was staring moodily at the dark ceiling of his hospital room. Yes, he was beyond grateful to have been rescued and that his teammates were safe. They had just been by actually — both women very clear that they would stab him themselves next time if he ever tried to do something so reckless again — and he had been happy to see them. Just as he had his parents and his friends, all who had stopped by before the doctor informed them all that he needed rest. 

That was all wonderful and he was grateful, but the one person he wanted to see more than anyone else — that he needed to see — was in a room of his own on the other side of the hospital. He had been assured by multiple reliable sources that he was fine: awake and alert and recovering nicely from his gsw (fuck, Carlos had been shot. That was a thought and a memory that was going to haunt him for a while, he knew it). But he had been denied any and all requests of seeing him with his own eyes due to his concussion — hence the dark room as light still wreaked havoc on his head — and the antibiotics slowly dripping their way into his system in an effort to cut off any possible infection from the dirty knife blade before it had a chance to take root. Which, as a paramedic, he recognized was reasonable. If it were anyone else he would have recommended the same. But it wasn’t anyone else. It was him and it was Carlos, and TK needed to see him with his own eyes before he could believe that he was really alright. 

Since that was beyond his control, that left him with pouting about it in the dark, which is what he intended to do about it for the foreseeable future.  

A soft knock at his door interrupted his plans and when he turned his head in the direction of the door, his breath caught in his throat. 

“Carlos,” he breathed, his name emerging from his lips like a prayer as the other man gave him a small, tired smile from his wheelchair in the door. Behind him stood his father, looking at TK with a smile that told him everything he needed to know. 

He waited as Gabriel pushed the wheelchair into the room, reaching out for Carlos, taking his hand in his own as soon as they were close enough to touch. He moved to the side of the bed, leaning over and meeting Carlos in a soft, tender kiss that he hoped did something to relay even a portion of the emotions he was feeling. They pulled apart and he met Carlos’s eyes, studying them and him for any signs that he wasn’t okay, but his study was interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. He looked up, startled, to see Carlos’s father watching them with a bemused expression. 

“I will leave you both alone,” he promised, “but first I just wanted to take a moment to meet you properly, TK. I am very glad you are okay.” 

“Thank you, sir,” TK said warmly, still clutching Carlos’s hand. 

Gabriel shook his head, “None of that ‘sir’ business now,” he told him, “as far as I’m concerned we’re family now. Call me Gabriel, please.” 

“Well Gabriel, TK said lightly, “I am happy to meet you, officially.” 

He grinned at Carlos, he matched his expression without a second thought. Gabriel watched the pair of them, smile growing. 

“I would love to talk more with you TK, take some time to get to know you, but I know when I’m not wanted so we’ll take care of that later. Just remember Carlos,” he told his son, voice suddenly firm, “you’re injured too. Don’t overdo it.” 

“Yes dad, thanks.” 

Gabriel gave them both a smile and with an affectionate squeeze of Carlos’s shoulder, he was gone. 

“So,” TK said as he watched the older man walk away, “you told him.” 

Carlos scoffed, “I didn’t have to. He spent all day with me, looking for you. He figured it out pretty quickly.” He paused here, swallowing thickly as he looked back at TK, “God Ty, I was so scared. I don’t know what I would have done…” 

TK cut him off, pressing a hand against his face, “Hey, none of that. We’re both okay, and that’s what matters.” 

But even as he said it, he could feel his voice waver. The last memory he had before blacking out of Carlos collapsing after being shot would be forever ingrained in his memories, a vision he was sure would come back to haunt him for many nights to come. Carlos leaned forward now, placing a hand on top of TK’s and pulling it away from his face so he could twist their fingers together. 

“Same goes for you,” he said firmly, as if he knew where TK’s mind had gone. Because of course he did. It was Carlos, and TK knew there was no part of him that was a mystery to the other man.   

“Hey, remember when you said being a Paramedic would be less dangerous than being a firefighter?” TK quipped in an attempt to lighten the mood and Carlos rolled his eyes. 

“Only you could manage to prove that wrong,” Carlos fired back, his voice a blend of fondness and exasperation. “Maybe you can try not to keep proving that wrong though, for my sake?”

“I guess I could try,” TK said softly, “if only for you. I love you an awful lot, you know.” 

Carlos leaned forward and pulled him into a kiss with more heat than before. It was warm and bright and so full of everything TK had been so afraid of losing for good. When they pulled apart, both breathing heavier and both leaning in, resting their foreheads on each other, Carlos responded, “I love you so much, Tyler Kennedy. Don’t you ever get kidnapped on me again.” 

“I’ll do my best,” TK promised, “but I know that if I do, you’d come find me.” 

“And I always will,” Carlos assured him, squeezing their linked hands, “no matter what.” 

[liloelsagranger]

Night shift - finally a new Rocketshipping-fanfiction

My dear friends,

it’s been a while since I last posted an entry. Let me tell you why and what, besides Covid-19, made me pause from publishing fanfictions over the last couple of months. Of course, Switzerland was very affected by the pandemic and still is today. We had numerous lock-downs or as Swiss people call it “slow downs”. My mother got very sick last year, I almost lost her. The doctors said she would only live two or three more days, but my mom is a fighter. She had to stay at the hospital for months, she endured countless medical examinations, had to take meds and slowly learned to live again. I’m so proud of my mother that she was strong and determined to get better. When she turned back home, I started to take care of her and I hate to leave her on her own, even if we’re talking about half an hour or less. Right now, she’s doing quite good, actually, we’re on vacation and she makes a great effort to participate in life in Italy. She’s my role-model! She will never be the same as before, but she won’t give up, she wakes up every morning to make progress. I prayed for her and her well-being, I prayed every single night she might get another chance and now we’re here at the beach and dining in fancy restaurants. It’s been a horrible year for everyone, a year full of sorrow, tears and desperation, a year where I was constantly afraid, the hospital would call me with some bad news, but she did it! She survived and she fights for her life! So proud! Good news is: I passed my doctoral exams and I’m officially allowed to call myself Dr. phil. des. Melanie C. but that won’t ever stop me from loving Team Rocket so here it is - a brand new Rocketshipping-fanfiction for you guys. LOVE YOU! Night shift

Chapter 1:

It was past ten o’clock when that miserable looking guy entered the diner. He inconspicuously sat down in the farthest corner of the café and immediately hid his face behind the menu card. Nevertheless, Jessie the waitress could make out the pathetic expression on his face, how he was cowering like a whipped dog. She had seen quite a bit in this diner. Drunks, thugs, addicts and other needy people who asked for a sympathetic ear, compassion and understanding, but that guy was different. He suffered terribly, but did not dare to communicate, instead he hid from the world so as not to attract attention and quietly endure his fate. Jessie had to do something about it. Of course, she didn’t want to play the Good Samaritan. She knew the tricks of the men who entered this diner. Most of the time, they told the waitress tall tales, hoping to be comforted, whatever they meant by that. But this young man did not make a shady impressionHe was well dressed, looked well-groomed, and Jessie was especially struck by his bright emerald green eyes, the only thing in his face that had not yet been veiled by grief and sorrow. She decided to do something about his displeasure.

“Did you have a rough day?” she asked while disinfecting the table.

He looked briefly into her eyes and nodded. “That’s one way to put it,” he answered, the gaze immediately lowered again.

This would be a taciturn conversation, but Jessie didn’t give up easily, she was a natural at making even rocks talk.

“Listen! No matter what happened, I’ve seen or heard some things. If I can help you in any way, my name is Jessie and I’m in charge of this table today. Let me just get the gum out from under your seat and get you a cold drink. What would you like?” She pulled a spatula from her apron and rubbed away the remains of the spoiled brats that marred her diner.

‘Wow,’ the young man thought to himself. ‘A strong, self-confident woman who lends a hand herself and who’s not above cleaning up dirt.’ Their eyes met briefly, and he forced a wry smile.

“You know, kid. You can’t rely on anyone. If you want to get everything done, do it yourself and don’t trust anyone. This world doesn’t give you anything for granted!” She briefly wiped the back of his chair before disappearing behind the counter and pouring the young man an ice-cold Coke.

“I have rarely seen you so concerned about a customer. Normally you show yourself aloof and only take the order, so as not to get involved in embarrassing conversations. Must be a really great pike, this pathetic creature in the far corner. Could it be that you’ve got a tiny crush on this guy?” For Eddy, teasing his best friend was the greatest pleasure. He didn’t know her like that. Jessie usually resisted any kind of small talk. This was due to her dark past, when she had repeatedly fallen for advances from men who were never looking for a steady relationship, but for a quick fix. Eddy had witnessed this bad time of his friend, how her heart was broken, how she was badly played with, and how she was simply dropped like a hot potato. Jack was the worst example of them all. While Jessie was already hearing the wedding bells ringing, he was making love to the women of the Strip and deceiving Jessie night after night with other broads. Jessie was devastated when she found out Jack was cheating on her. She was furious, not even at her lying boyfriend, but at herself for having been so stupid as to trust a man.

Jessie gave Eddy a light pat on the head. “Don’t be silly! That time is over. I can take care of myself, I don’t need male support for that. I’m a big girl, I make my own dough, and I keep my head above water pretty well. No, not a chance, I’ve sworn off flirting.” Nevertheless, she caught herself as her gaze wandered to the young man in the corner. “Oh yes, this time is definitely over,” Eddy smirked.

“Jessie, could you bring us a side of fries, please?” Misty’s order echoed throughout the hall. The twenty-year old waved her hands. She was used to speaking loudly, almost shouting, to attract guests to her daily water Pokémon show. Sometimes she walked up and down the streets of the Strip all day in the blazing hot sun, trying to win people for her underwater attraction. As an excellent student, she could have taught at any college, but she had decided early on to get into show business and make her living doing what she really loved, joined by Dewgong and Starmie. Her parents had not agreed with this decision at all, it was wasted talent, they had claimed, and had summarily turned Misty out the door. Since then, she had been struggling through life on her own, but could always count on Jess, the diner and her two best friends, Ash and Brock, young people who were also not favoured by fate.

“Temper your voice, twerp!” Jessie couldn’t help but grin. She spread the ketchup bottles around the table, hoping Ash wouldn’t spill on himself and the diner again. His constant companion Pikachu immediately hopped on his shoulder, grabbed a fry and popped it in his mouth. Ash and his Pokémon were carnies. He had trained his friend well and attracted many spectators with his performance. Most of them felt sorry for the guy and tipped generously. That’s why Ash was able to invite his friends to the diner every night, a place that gave them hope where they could experience security. They were convinced that nothing would ever disturb this idyll and that fate, for better or worse, had taken its course.

“Who’s that guy over there?” Brock wanted to know. He had barely sold chocolate and roses tonight. The others held back, but they were certain that their friend was just too pushy with women and that’s why he only collected rejections instead of green bills.

“I’ve never seen him here before. Must be from another area. I can’t tell you for the life of me why he’s wearing a suit at theses temperatures, he looks pretty pathetic to me anyways,” Jessie replied.

“Maybe his car has stalled,” Ash suggested, “and now he was forced to wander through the desert until the tasty aromas from your diner brought him back from his delirium.”

“Or,” Brock interfered, “he had to flee his own wedding because his wife is a real pain in the ass, unlike our sweet Misty,” Brock oohed at his friend. “Forget it, Brock! You and me, this will never happen!” She gave him a gentle poke.

“Enough now with your naïve speculations! Just let him enjoy his drink. We’re closing soon, so get going,” Jessie dismissed their absurd ideas with a wave of her hand, but at this point no one knew how right Brock was.

Dark thoughts hunted the young man. He knew what he would face at home if he was late. Beatings, torture, rebuke, harassment, were just a few words to describe his failed relationship. Unconsciously, he stroked his scarred arms.

“Can I get you something to eat?” Jessie pulled him out of the maelstrom of bad thoughts, of course she had noticed the wounds, but maybe he had gotten those injuries at work. The young man rummaged some coins out of his pants and let them jingle on the table. “Is that enough for a cheese sandwich?” Jessie hated small change, but she would make an exception for him. A friendly smile, a quick nod, and she passed on the order.

“Something’s wrong with this guy,” she whispered to Eddy. “He’s scarred, bruised and pays with penny coins. Possibly a vagrant.” Eddy couldn’t help but grin. “That guy’s been keeping you busy all night, Jess. What’s the matter with you? Are you getting weak?”

The young man could not overhear the conversation between the waiters, but he was sure they were talking about him. He sure made a rather frightening impression, but that was a private matter and not something you shared with a waitress in a diner.

His gaze drifted to the daily paper, which had two faces emblazoned on it: Butch and Cassidy. He had never heard of this odd couple, but according to the news, theses two were causing quite a stir and were terrifying the Strip.

“Oh, so you’ve already spotted them, those two knuckleheads! They keep the Strip in suspense, and heads roll when the taxes don’t add up,” Jessie served him the cheese sandwich and gave him a slight smile.

“Can I get you anything else?” He thanked her and took a hearty bite of his dinner.

The last half hour flew by and the remaining guests left the diner to spend the night on the Strip, as very few had a roof over their heads. Jessie set about cleaning up and Eddy checked the register.

The young man stood up and made his way towards the door. But before he left the diner, he glanced back at Jessie for a moment. A sigh escaped him. What if…?

Jessie returned his gaze and watched him go until the young man disappeared. She walked right up to his table and found a little note on the receipt.

“Thanks for treating me like a human being, James.”