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edna-skiffens · 4 years ago

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The Best Medicine

Summary: You are in the hospital, but you can never sleep in hospitals. Good thing you have a very attractive night shift nurse who is willing to help out.

Word Count: 4.5K

Warnings: hospitals, light med talk, bad medical writing, fluff

A/N: Please ignore the plot holes or the fact that this isn’t the most realistic and also I know this isn’t how discharge works at the hospital.. It’s called fiction for a reason, darling. Also, I left the reason the reader is in the hospital open ended bc some of us may have medical conditions/reasons that we can attach to this, but if not I tried to keep it vague enough on purpose so that you can imagine whatever. Also if you like Nurse!Tom and have requests for him lmk bc i’m happy to write for him.

Toss and turn. Toss and turn. The routine was getting old. This was your third night in the hospital and sleep just wasn’t coming to you.

Maybe it was the medicine they had you on. Maybe it was the constant symphony of sounds and people passing in the hallway. Maybe it was because you weren’t at home in your own bed.

Maybe it was just because you were in the hospital.

You couldn’t be sure. What you were sure of is that you weren’t falling asleep anytime soon.

Feeling another presence in the room, you looked from the ceiling to the doorway where you saw Tom, one of the night shift nurses, standing cautiously.

“I didn’t wake you did I?” He asked as he eased his way inside.

“Nope.”

“So no sleep again, huh?”

“Nope.”

“Sorry darling. Let’s go ahead and get these vitals over with.” He took your blood pressure, oxygen levels, temperature and wrote it down in your chart. Putting the clipboard back on its hook at the end of the bed, he looked up at your tired face. “Okay. So now about that sleep. What do you think will help?”

“Not being in the hospital.”

He chuckled lightly while walking back towards your bedside.

“I know. You hate it here. You’ve made that very clear and I try not to take too much offense to it.” You let out a slight laugh and held back the fact that he was the best part of this whole experience. He almost made it worth it. “I’m sorry we can’t give you any sleeping medication. Do you think it’ll help if I talk to you?”

“You mean tell me bedtime stories?” You couldn’t help but tease him at the adorable suggestion, though it sent a swarm of butterflies off in your stomach.

“I was thinking more like bore you ‘till you fell asleep. But whatever works.”

“You’re the nurse. If you think it’ll help.” You both sat there smirking at each other for a moment. Something unspoken floating in the air between you two.

“Well, I need to finish my round of vitals first. I’ll come check on you when I’m done and if you’re still up we’ll see about those stories.”

“I’ll be here.”

About fifteen or twenty minutes later you heard a light tap on your door followed by “Still awake?”

“Always.”

“You up for a chat?” Tom asked as he made his way to the stool then rolled slightly closer to your bed.

“Got nothing better to do.” You teased again.

“Okay. Well you should probably lay down.”

“Oh. It’s going to be that kind of story, huh?” His laugh was so beautiful and you were happy you were the cause of it.

“No.” He corrected in between laughs “The goal is to get you to sleep. So sitting up won’t help.”

“Right. Right.”

“Well.. anything in particular you’d like to talk about?”

“Why did you choose to become a nurse?”

“Ahhh. Good question. So I actually went to an art school.” You couldn’t help the brief expression of surprise that crossed your face. “I know. Shocking. I did training specifically in dance and gymnastics and I loved it.”

“Wait, so what happened?” You asked, turning on your side to face him more comfortably.

“Well one day we were rehearsing for a show and I fell. Ruined my knee. Had to do physical therapy for months. I tried to get back into it, but it just wasn’t the same. However, through that process I learned a lot about medicine and the health side of things. It really turned me on to it. And when my Plan A got a bit messed up I thought ‘hey, this could work’. So far it’s treated me pretty well.”

You smiled at Tom, admiring his passion for his career and the determination he had to keep pushing after his accident. You enjoyed hearing him talk about it too. If you didn’t know any better you would say it was helping you relax.

“My story that boring?”

“Obviously.”

“Your sarcasm has no end.”

“Oh… goodness.. you thought that was sarcasm?”

Tom only laughed and shook his head the way he often did with you.

You may just have been his patient and he may have just been your nurse, but you both bonded. He kept you company and gave you comfort. In return, you kept him entertained during the quiet night shifts.

“I’m not going to sleep. I'm just resting my eyes. But still listening.” You told him as you nestled further into the hospital bed, trying to find a position that would make it comfortable.

“Okay, darling.” He grinned at you.

“Tell me more. What kind of-” You had to stop to yawn, “What kind of art stuff did you do?”

“Oh. Well, I was in a few musicals. I really enjoyed dancing. I did ballet ever since I was young and I love the control I have over my body. The tricks I can do with gymnastics or the turns and leaps. I mean I can’t do them to that level anymore, but I try to stay active.” He glanced up and noticed you hadn’t moved, “Are you still with me?”

“Mhm.” You barely respond.

“Okay. Well it was a performing arts school so we really were trained in many areas. We had classes in acting, singing, dancing, all of it. It was a lot of fun and I met my best friends there.”

Tom began telling stories about his time at school. Before he knew it, he lost himself and track of time. He looked back at you, quiet and still.

“Y/N?” You were finally asleep. “Goodnight, darling.” He whispered as he gently made his exit.

Because Tom worked the night shift, you never saw him when you woke in the morning. Instead, Tanya, a sweet nurse that felt like a big sister, or Linda, Nurse Ratched in the flesh, came in for morning vitals and meds.

You counted down the days until your release. Life in the hospital was pretty uneventful with the limit on visitors and limited activity. There’s only so many sitcoms one can take in a given timespan. The only thing that you really looked forward to each night was when Tom clocked in.

“Hi Y/N.”

“Hi Tom.” You would smile at each other.

“How are we feeling today?”

“Better. Ready to get out of here.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear you are feeling better and still ready to jailbreak.” He smiled while writing something down on your chart. “They should be bringing up your dinner tray soon and then I’ll bring by your evening meds after that.”

“Okay.”

“If you need me you know what to do.” He called to you before walking out the door.

You were disappointed when Shelley brought your evening meds by later. She was a nice enough nurse. She just wasn’t Tom.

You’d grown accustomed to mainly having him as your nurse during the evening shift. At first you weren’t sure if it was coincidence or on purpose, but after a few nights of staying up and talking, you grew closer to him. You saw less of the other nursing staff and more of Tom.

You tried not to build anything up in your head. You were sure everything he was doing was in his job description and a part of being a good nurse.

He would sneak you extra pudding cups from the cafeteria and bring you an extra heated blanket because you could never stay warm. If you needed a new IV, he held your hand to ease the anxiety. He kept you company and made you feel less alone in such a sterile and intimidating place. And when he noticed you had trouble sleeping he chose to sit with you to help you fall asleep. You couldn’t help the butterflies that built in your stomach.

It became a sort of routine. He checked on you during evening vitals, even if someone else was doing them, and you were always still awake. He would then come and sit with you and chat for a bit, telling you different stories until you eventually fell asleep.

Some nights when you were extra restless he would help you walk the halls.

“The doctors have to see you’re stable enough before you can be discharged. Plus, maybe it’ll tire you out.” He suggested.

He would help get your IV pole ready so you could walk with it. He helped you into your slippers and eased you out of bed after passing you your robe.

Walking the hall slowly, Tom knew he had to remain professional, yet he found a few excuses to graze his hand across your back to ‘steady you’ when you turned corners or he thought you were looking tired.

“It might take me a while to get back to my usual jogs in the park, huh?” You laughed in spite of yourself.

“You’ll get there. Baby steps.” He encouraged, as you turned around the Nurse’s Station. You missed the faces the other night shift nurses were giving you both, but Tom was sure to subtly flick them off. “So, do you like running?” He asked as you headed back towards your room.

Throughout your late nights together, he told you of his three younger brothers and his dog named Tessa. You spoke about what you would do when you were out of hospital. He talked about his friends and flatmates and the adventures they had. He told you many stories, but each morning when you woke up he was clocked out and the day shift nurses were there.

Tonight was your last night. You’re set to be discharged tomorrow and while you are ecstatic to go home, you’re going to miss one thing about this place.

“I bet you’re too excited to sleep tonight. I don’t know if my stories will even help.” Tom said as he sat down next to you.

You smiled up to him sweetly.

“What are you looking forward to the most once you get out of here?”

“Sleeping in my own bed.”

“Well that’s no surprise.” Tom laughed, a contagious sound making you giggle as well. “Isn’t there anything you’ll miss about this place?”

“Yeah.” He smiled “There’s one thing.”

“What’s that?” He asks.

“The pudding cups.”

“Ahh the pudding cups of course.” You giggled while fiddling with the IV line.

“They just don’t taste the same in the outside world.”

His smile grew wider as you giggled.

“No, but really. As much as I give this place grief and say I’m ready to get out of here - which I am,” You gave him a pointed look to which he held his hands up in mock surrender, fully believing you, “it hasn’t been too terribly awful I guess.”

“Oh, well, I’m glad we could make your stay not too terribly awful.. I guess.” He teased. “Do you have anything exciting to look forward to once you’re a free woman?”

“Nothing huge planned, really. The doctors did say to take it easy.”

“That’d be wise.”

“Yeah. I’ll just lay low for a while. My sister said she may try to come visit me though so that would be nice.”

“Oh that would be nice. She’s your older sister right?”

“Right. She moved away last year to be closer to her boyfriend.”

“Ah. Do you like him?”

“Sorry?”

“This boyfriend. Do you like him?”

“He’s alright, I suppose. He makes her happy.” Tom nodded along.

“And do you have a boyfriend that makes you happy?”

“N-No. No I don’t. Not at the moment.” You began fiddling with the IV cord again.

“No boyfriend or not a boyfriend that makes you happy?” He asked.

“Neither.”

“Well that’s a shame.” If the heart monitor was connected you would’ve been screwed. “I just mean someone needs to look after you once you get home. I hope this sister comes through for a visit. You’ve got to take it easy.”

“Oh I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure you will be.” He smiled.

“How has your shift been tonight? Busy?” You asked, fighting back a yawn.

“A bit busier than usual. There was a slight emergency earlier which is why Shelley handed out meds tonight. Sorry I didn’t come around.”

“It’s alright. I know you have other patients.”

“Yeah, but none like you.” You were sure he said that to all of his patients. After all, you’ve heard similar lines ever since you went to the pediatrician as a child. But it still gave you butterflies.

“Are you getting sleepy?”

“A little. But it’s okay.” He gave you a pointed look but continued to talk anyway. “It’s the last night. One final request for storytime. Make it a good one.”

You thought for a moment before asking your question.

“Do you ever wish that life turned out differently? That you never had your accident and you could’ve followed your dreams to be a dancer?” You asked while turning on your side and getting more comfortable.

“Sometimes. At least, I used to. But I think I’ve accepted it now. And I really can’t see myself doing anything but this.” You nodded taking in his answer “I look at it this way. If it wasn’t for my injury then I never would’ve changed my career path and found my love for medicine. I never would have made so many of the friends I’ve made or the memories I’ve made. I never would have met you.” He finishes with a sweet smile.

“That’s a very positive way of looking at it.” You told him. “Be honest, are you a therapist during the day?” He laughed out loud.

“No. I’m not. I guess I’m a big believer in ‘everything happens for a reason’.” You nodded while covering a yawn.

“So I’ve been curious to ask you,” He began, “Do you usually have this much trouble sleeping? Because you can get help for that you know?” You smiled at him.

“What? I thought a night nurse talking to you was the cure?” Tom smirked and shook his head. “I’m kidding. No, I normally don’t. It’s just the stiff sheets and hospital sounds I think.”

“Darn hospital.” He rolled his eyes and joked. “So this time tomorrow you’ll be sound asleep in your own bed then?”

You knew it was meant to be a happy statement, but you were a little sad at the thought of not having any more late night chats with Tom.

“Yes. Thank God.” You forced a smile.

You felt another yawn coming and tried to hold it back. It was already past the usual time that you fell asleep.

Tom could tell you were exhausted so he launched into a story from nursing school, hoping to lull you to sleep.

You yawned your way through listening, trying to soak up every last moment with Tom. In the morning he wouldn’t be here. You’d leave and likely never see him again.

When he finished, your eyes were half open and he wondered how you were still awake. Or maybe why.

“Why are you fighting it? The point is to sleep. Give in.” He told you gently after another yawn.

You looked up at him, half asleep and rubbing your eyes, not finding the confidence to tell him the true reason you were trying to stay awake.

“I’m happy right now.”

He smiled down at you.

“I am too. But you need your sleep, darling.” You weren’t sure what to say and you didn’t have much energy left in you anyway. “How about this. I’ve probably been in here too long as it is. Let me go check in at the Nurse’s Station and then I’ll come back and check on you soon and see if you’re still awake okay?”

The thought that he was leaving gave you a sad feeling in your stomach. You tried to remind yourself that he was just your nurse. Nothing more.

“Okay.” You smiled at him, sleepily, while settling further into the bed.

He stood up and instead of walking towards the door he walked closer to you. He grabbed the thin, white hospital blanket and pulled it closer around your shoulders.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He whispered before he walked to the door.

“Tom?” You called out just before he opened it. He turned around with an expectant look, “Thanks for everything.”

Even though the room was dim you could see his smile.

“You’re welcome, Y/N. Get some sleep.”

You don’t remember much after that. You don’t know if Tom came back to check on you. You just remember falling asleep with a smile on your face.

When you woke up the following morning it felt like any other morning in the hospital.

The hallways were much louder. Beeps, chatter, and phones were constant. The lights were brighter.

But you were quickly reminded that it wasn’t any other morning. You were going home today.

The door creaked open and Tanya, one of your regular daytime nurses, poked her head in.

“Oh good you’re up.” She made her way inside and over to the gloves. “How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good. Thanks.” She gave you a smile, something hidden behind it.

“I’m sure.” She said quietly to herself. You gave her a questioning look. “Oh I just mean I’m sure you’re excited to get out of here.”

You nodded as she took your vitals one last time.

“Everything looks good. What do you say about getting this IV out?”

“I say that sounds amazing.”

She took it out and bandaged up your arm while informing you of how the morning would go.

“Dr. McCoy is making rounds now then he’ll be by soon to go over your discharge. You can get dressed whenever you’re ready. If you need help, buzz me. You’ll still have a breakfast tray come, but you don’t have to eat it.” She gave you a wink while taking off her gloves.

“Thanks Tanya.”

“Of course, sweetie. And in case I don’t see you before you go, you’ve been a wonderful patient. Take care of yourself.” You smiled at her as she left you to change into some leggings and a sweatshirt.

You were packing your remaining things into your bag when your doctor walked in.

“Y/N! How are we doing today?”

“We’re doing great because we’re going home.” You smiled while taking a seat to rest for a few minutes.

“I know you’re excited.” He laughed before explaining the conditions of your discharge. You had medicines to take, a follow up appointment, and strict instructions to rest for the next few weeks. After signing some forms he left you with a stack of papers. “Is someone coming to pick you up?”

“Yeah my neighbor should be here within an hour.”

“Sounds good. Don’t hesitate to call us or come back in if you have any trouble or questions.”

“Will do. Thanks.”

A few minutes after he left a nurse brought in your breakfast tray. There wasn’t much of a point for it but since your discharge wasn’t technically until 10:30 am you were still a patient during breakfast.

You took the pudding cup that you requested with every meal off the tray before sliding it away. Smiling to yourself, you tucked it away in your bag. All you had left to do was wait for 10:30.

Tanya came in to check on you again and told you to buzz the Nurse’s Station when you knew your ride was here. At 10:27 you had a text from your neighbor that they were out front in the pickup zone. So you hit the call button.

“Yes?” Linda, the scariest dayshift nurse, answered.

“Um hi. Tanya told me to buzz in when my ride was here so I could go down.”

“Okay we’ll be right in.”

Not even a minute later you heard your door open. Expecting to see Tanya or maybe even Linda you looked up.

An audible gasp left your lips when Tom stood in your doorway with a wheelchair.

“I hear someone needs a ride?” He smiled as he made his way closer to the bed.

“Tom. What are you still doing here?”

“I pulled a double.” You wanted to ask why, but decided against it. You were still in a little bit of shock from seeing him again. “If you’d rather I can go get Linda to walk you down?” He pointed back towards your door.

“No! No.. I’m just surprised s’all.”

“Well come on. I thought you’d be running out of this place once the clock hit 10:30.” Glancing up you saw it was now 10:34. Your neighbor is probably tired of waiting already.

You grabbed your discharge papers and reached for your bag when you heard, “I got it.” Smiling at him, you sat down in the wheelchair. Tom placed the bag around his shoulder and kicked the brakes off the chair. “Ready?” You nodded up at him.

He rolled you out of the room that felt so small for a final time. You passed the Nurse’s Station and waved bye to the staff. He turned by the elevators and when you looked up at him in question, he read your mind. Looked down at you he said, “We’re taking the staff elevators.”

When you made it there he hit the button, turning you around and backing you in once the doors opened. He hit the button for the Lobby and leaned up against the wall of the elevator, briefly glancing at you, as you rode down together.

“Well you made it. You’re a free woman.” He smiled shyly.

“Yippee.” He met your eyes for a moment before looking back to the floor. The dynamics felt different. It wasn’t like your late night talks together.

“Listen, Y/N.” Tom began as he stood up from the wall and faced you. He was about to continue when the elevator ding cut him off, signaling you had reached your destination.

Maybe that was what was different. You had reached your destination.

You had a fun time talking with Tom and entertaining each other when you were both up late at night. He was fun to get to know and you enjoyed having someone care for you. He was easy to banter with and certainly easy on the eyes. But your time at the hospital was up. You knew it would be eventually. You wanted it to be.

Tom was a nurse. He was just doing his job. He was helping take care of you. He was being nice. He was trying to make your stay more comfortable. There was nothing to read into.

Your time being his patient was up and your time with him was up.

You tried to remain realistic, but the sadness still crept up as he rolled you closer to the door.

Once outside, you saw your neighbor exit the car and wave you over. Tom steered in the direction and slowed before rolling to a stop and hitting the brake locks on the wheels.

“Hi, I’m Taylor.”

“Tom.” They shook hands as Tom passed off your bag for Taylor to put in the backseat.

“I’m sorry for the circumstances, but it really has been a pleasure having you as a patient and getting to know you, Y/N.” Tom admitted as he walked around to face you. He grabbed the papers from your lap. “Take care of yourself, okay?” You had shared many smiles with Tom, but this one felt sadder.

“I will. Thank you for everything, Tom. I mean it.” You reached up and squeezed his hand. He gave you a light squeeze back while smiling down at you. Taylor returned from the backseat of the car and Tom turned to them.

“These are her important papers about follow up appointments, medications, what to do at home, all of that so please make sure she doesn’t lose any of them.” He emphasized the point.

“Got it. Thanks.” Taylor held onto the stack while Tom turned back to you.

“If I can’t handle a few papers on my own, then maybe I shouldn’t be going home yet, Tom.” You laughed.

“I know, I just wanted to make sure they made it home with you.” He walked closer. “You ready to get in?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. He helped you up, supporting you just as a precaution. Once seated, you took a moment to catch your breath as you pulled the seatbelt down. He met your hand, taking it from you to buckle you in.

“You good?”

You nodded with a smile, “Just a little tired. No biggie.”

He looked you over before returning your smile, though his didn’t quite reach his eyes, “If you need us, call us. Otherwise go home and rest.”

This was it. This was goodbye.

“Thanks, Tom.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

He shut the door. He walked back to the wheelchair, released the brake locks and headed inside. He looked back only when your car was driving away.

“Here’s those papers that are so important.” Taylor handed you the stack after they got in.

“Thanks.”

“So how are you feeling?”

“Better. Thanks.” You felt them looking at you as they joined traffic.

“You sure? You sound like you feel awful.”

You try to remind yourself to forget the sweet and attractive nurse and start moving forward.

“Yeah. Yeah I’m okay.” You decide to distract yourself by reading through your discharge paperwork, when something caught your eye. On top was a sticky note with the hospital’s letterhead. You were sure it wasn’t there before. Looking closer it read,

Y/N,

In case you need someone to talk to when you can’t sleep.

555-5555

P. S. I have a connection to some pretty good pudding cups too.

Tom

The smile that grew on your face was undeniable. All the feelings you suppressed came flooding in. He wasn’t just being nice. He actually liked you.

One thing you knew for sure was that even though you would be in your own bed tonight, you still would be up, talking to a very special nurse.

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shootthemessenger · 5 years ago

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headcanon ➭ perks

sarah paulson characters x fem!reader

prompt: the best parts of being in a relationship with them

contains: billie dean howard, cordelia goode, ally mayfair-richards, wilhemina venable, mildred ratched

disclaimer: sexual nature, strong language

gif belongs to @hotel-a-h-s

Billie Dean Howard

billie dean spoils you

no matter where she goes, how far she travels, she always comes back with lavish gifts to shower you in upon her arrival, “i didn’t forget your presents, darling.”

her favorite part is watching your face light up and the loving look in your eyes as you express to her your excitement

every now and then she buys herself something that will benefit you; a new sex toy, lingerie, perfume you’ll like on her

billie dean has beautiful hands

you’ve always said the most attractive thing about her were her hands

ever since she heard you say that, she gets her nails done every two weeks and keeps lotion on her at all times

when you started buying her rings to go with her favorite outfits, she became very aware of the fact that you constantly stared at her hands (all. the. time.)

her favorite thing to do is wrap her hand around your throat in the mirror, “you look to pretty with my hands around your throat, don’t you think darling?”

Cordelia Goode

cordelia has a habit of pampering you

it started as giving you days to yourself, to relax and nap where none of the girls would bother you with their bickering

then she started drawing you baths, every night light clockwork

they were just warm baths, “you need to relax sweetheart, it doesn’t do anyone any good with you running around like a chicken with your head cut off”

then she introduced the candles and the bubbles

by now, she had gotten into the habit of sprinkling rose pedals around in the water

cordelia conveys her love with her lips

she kissed you all the time

she kissed your neck when you’re sitting in her lap

she kisses the shell of your ear just before whispering something sweet (and watching the goosebumps rise on your skin)

she kissed your cheek every time she passed you in the house, no matter what she’s doing or going to do

you’re not allowed to leave the room or go to bed before she’s had her kiss, “give me a kiss, sweet girl.”

Ally Mayfair-Richards

ally keeps up with all of your things

it started out with her picking up your phone where you would leave it and bringing it to you,

“are you looking for this baby?” she’d hold it up and make you give her a kiss before getting it back

then it was your keys and your notebooks

she always knows where the tv remote is

or where you left that thing last week

she’s afraid you’d lose your head if it wasn’t attached to you

ally is very protective

she felt as if she screwed up her relationship with ivy because she wasn’t protective and possessive enough

you assure her nothing would make you do anything to hurt her the way ivy did

but that doesn’t stop her from leaving love marks all over you

“stay with me, please, I don’t want to lose you in there,” she’d practically glue her hands to your hips when you’re out in public

she even once made you match her at a press conference so she couldn’t lose you in the crowd

Wilhemina Venable

wilhemina would do anything for you

she had always told you, “there’s nothing in this world that is worth losing you for”

even before the apocalypse, she nearly lost her job by dropping everything to be by your side when you needed her

then she lost you when the world ended; and it seemed as if her world was ending just the same

then you walked into the outpost, hazmat suit and all

she panicked, cupping your face in her hands “darling are you okay? are you hurt?”

she went as far and dropping her rules on sex and affection in the outpost just to have you the way she wanted

wilhemina let you in on her biggest insecurity

she had never shown anyone her back

she avoided all questions about her cane up until they came out of your mouth one date night

she looked at you with worried eyes and she allowed her dress to pool at her feet

she turned around, allowing your eyes to travel along the crookedness of her spine

she shivered when you ran your fingers down her back softly “does it hurt?” she shook her head, her cheeks blushing harshly “no, just uncomfortable is all.”

Mildred Ratched

mildred knows exactly how to keep you safe

she always knew how to keep you out of trouble, how to keep you close, and how to protect you

she could hold you, tell you that everything was going to be okay and mean it with everything in her, “shh shh, it’s okay honey, it’s okay,”

she’d keep you close at the hospital but far enough away that you couldn’t get caught up in the plan she was hatching

mildred told all of her stories with her eyes

you noticed it the first time you met her; that look in her eyes that told you a story completely different than the one her mouth was telling

especially when she denied her feelings for you, but she looked at you as if she was longing to reach out for you and hold you

you knew she was going to kiss you before she even leaned in because her eyes sparked with this glassy light that you had never seen before, “if you’re going to kiss me go ahead and stop torturing yourself.”

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sativaaaaaaa · 5 years ago

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The Secret In The Tears || Mildred Ratched & Wilhemina Venable

warnings: depression, intrusive thoughts, self harm, suicide attempt, major angst

~~~~~~

Your relationship with the two reserved redheads had been purely carnal to begin with. They used you for sex and you were fine with it. It then turned into something more....intimate. Long nights spent keening underneath them turned into early mornings wrapped between their arms.

Soon after these changes they asked you to be their submissive; their pet. And of course you happily agreed. You had always let them lead in the bedroom, so everyday life couldn't be much different right?

Well you were wrong. It had been much more than you expected and thought you learned quickly, the adjustment to the new environment was rough. Now here you were six months in feeling like your head is underwater. You life scheduled out by the hour and punishments handed out when things are not up to par. You were trying the best you could, but it seemed like you were being degraded more than praised and it was breaking you on the inside. Yet you never said a word. You just kept with the motions; doing things just good enough so you wouldn't get yelled at.

You were reaching your peak. You started sleeping in a different room at night just to have some peace but it was never granted. You spent many hours of the night crying silently and holding yourself as you tried to put the pieces back together. You felt low, unappreciated, unloved, empty. And once again you cried yourself to sleep, this time not caring if you woke up or not.

~~~~~~~~

To your dismay you did. Alarm blaring at 5:30am like any other day. You hit the button to turn it off and stayed in the bed just staring at the wall. You laid there until you heard Mildred rumbling around; getting up and going to your bathroom to avoid her for the time being. You lulled through your hygiene routine and changed into some sweatpants and a t shirt. You made your bed despite the desperate want to climb back in it and headed downstairs. You walked down the hall and towards the kitchen; the smell of brewing coffee roamed through most of the house. As you turned the corner you saw Mildred in her nurse uniform packing her lunch for the day. She glanced over her shoulder looking at you as you walked into the kitchen.

"Well good morning to you too." She said frowning. She looked over your attire before shaking her head.

"Sorry. Good morning." You said in a low voice with your gaze fixated on the ground in front of you. Mildred paused what she was doing to look at you properly; frown still plastered across her face.

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you. And what on earth do you have on?" She chided. You drew in a silent breath and raised your head to look at her.

"I'm not feeling too well so I just put on something that'll help me be a little more comfortable." You replied whilst wrapping your arms around your abdomen.

Her eyes scanned over you once more to take in your appearance. Your glassy eyes and dark circles led her to believe you were telling the truth about not feeling well. She turned away from you and continued to pack her lunch.

"Do you need to see a doctor?" She asked as she set her lunch to the side and poured herself a cup of coffee.

"No, I'll just take some tylenol and lay down later on. I should be fine."

"Alright well if you change your mind just give me or Wilhemina a call." She said as she turned around to face me.

"And why on earth would she need to call me?" You hear Wilhemina ask as she walked into the kitchen. She almost immediately walked over to Mildred to place a soft kiss on her lips. The action torn you to pieces.

"The poor girl isn't feeling well. Just look at her eyes." Mildred said pointing in your direction. You shifted uncomfortably now that the attention was on you. Wilhemina looked over your physique before scoffing.

"She looks perfectly fine to me. I expect everything to be done by the time we make it home. Understood?"

You swallowed the lump that was forming in your throat before looking up at her and nodding.

"Yes ma'am. I understand. If you'll excuse me." You said before turning around and going back upstairs. As you were walking up the stairs tears stung your eyes, you wouldn't allow them to fall though.

Meanwhile in the kitchen Mildred was feeling conflicted. She could see that something was wrong with you. At least she thought she could. But she didn't want to start an argument with Wilhemina over the matter; so she stayed silent. They both left the house bidding you goodbye as you slowly made their bed.

~~~~~~~

You did your daily routine of cleaning and preparing things for dinner before collapsing on your bed. You curled up in the center of the bed and let your eyes close from mental exhaustion. You never fell asleep though, you only laid on your bed in silence. After a while you finally opened your eyes and checked the time. 4:15pm.. They would be home soon.

You sighed and forced yourself to get up and go downstairs to the kitchen to start dinner. You took all the ingredients out of the fridge and laid them on the counter. Soon after you moved on to chopping the ingredients needed to make the redhead's favorite foods for dinner.

You gaze turned to the shiny blade of the knife and you zoned out, getting lost in harmful thoughts.

'Just do one.'

'Stab yourself.'

'Do it.'

'DO IT!!'

Before you realized it you had given in and acted upon your thoughts; deeply cutting your inner forearm. You dropped the knife on the floor and grasped your arm with a pained gasp. You turned to go towards the sink but the sudden movement combined with you not eating all day caused your vision to blur. Time seemed to slow down and you hit your head against the edge of the counter before crashing onto the floor. The fall knocked the wind out of your body making you frantically gasp for air.

You were fighting to stay conscious when you heard the front door unlocked with some banter.

"All I'm saying is you don't need to be so rough all the time. Loosen up some." You heard Mildred say.

"I still don't see why I need to. I made a commitment to you, not her." Wilhemina shot back almost as if her words were laced with venom.

Upon hearing that you let go. You stopped fighting to stay awake and let the darkness take over you as you heard the click of heels approaching. Your eyes were finally shutting as you heard a loud gasp and the drop of a bag. Then everything went black.

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

A faint beep noise met your ears as a wave of pain surged through your body. You lowly groaned and struggled to open your eyes; a bright light blinded you causing you groan a little louder. You heard a gasp and heels clicking over to where you were, the sound pained your ears.

You began to blink slowly as you took in your surroundings. Painfully white walls, two chairs and the sun setting beyond the other side of the window.

"Y/n, Y/n honey can you hear me?? Wilhemina go get the nurse."

"You are a nurse."

"Her nurse. Jesus Christ must you be so literal right now?"

"Fine I'll go."

You groaned once again before moving to cover your ears; a searing hot pain ran through your arm causing you to stop and whimper.

"You're being too loud." You rasped lowly as you fully opened your eyes and looked towards Mildred.

"Oh I'm sorry sweetheart. I'll talk softer for you. How are you feeling?" She asked pulling her chair next to the bed so she could sit with me.

"I'm fine. When can I go home?" You saw a wave sadness in her eyes as you questioned her.

"Are you sure you're okay? That was a really bad cut." She poked again. But she was weeks too late, you had already shut down and closed off your true feelings.

"Yes I'm fine. I just want to go home." You said in a huff while rolling your eyes.

She frowned at your sudden attitude but stayed quiet. Soon Wilhemina had walked back in the room with a nurse; she took her seat next to Mildred laying her hand on Mildreds knee whilst the other hand rested on the head of her cane. She hadn't spared you glance so you didn't dare look in her direction.

You let the nurse check you and answered all her questions as best as you could before taking some pain medication and sitting in silence. You all sat in silence before Wilhemina spoke up.

“So what was that?” She inquired quite harshly.

“What was what?” You shot back in a low voice. You had been slowly falling asleep due to your pain medication so you were basically on the edge of consciousness.

“Oh don’t play dumb. What’s your problem? What are you tired of living or something?” She interrogated further. Her voice was harsh and usually they would hurt but this time they didn’t.

“Wil, now’s not the time. Let her rest.” Mildred butted in trying to calm her down and also keep her from stressing you any further.

“I’m not living.. I’m surviving. I’m barely doing that correctly. Doesn’t seem like I do anything right anymore.” You said in a small voice. The room went silent.

A wave of sadness had over come you. Tears stung your eyes causing you to close then completely. You rolled over onto your side; back facing them as you finally let your feelings and sleep take over. You fell asleep curled into yourself with tears running down your face.

~~~~~~~~~~~

word count: 1687

#sarah paulson x reader #wilhemina venable #sarah paulson #ally mayfair richards #cordelia goode #audrey tindall x reader #billie dean howard x reader #lana winters #sally mckenna x reader #cordelia goode x reader #mildred ratched #tw depressing stuff #angst

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let-the-dream-begin · 5 years ago

Text

In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 6: End of the Rope

Chapter 5

Read on AO3

Claire was supposed to be looking at charts on the computer in front of her, and she would, of course, right after she finished checking her phone for any messages from Mrs. Lickett.

“Beauchamp!”

Fuck.

“That’s the third time I’ve caught you on your phone. You trying to get fired on your first day?”

Her supervisor, Doctor Moore, was the most Nurse Ratched type Claire had ever seen in real life: tyrannical and unforgiving. The only difference was the grating nasality of her thick Long Island accent. Claire opened her mouth to defend herself, for the third time, but Ratched cut her off.

“Plenty of other doctors have kids at home, Doctor Beauchamp. Do you see any of the rest of them with their heads buried in their phones like teenagers?”

Claire could feel the tips of her ears growing hot with rage, but she swallowed it down and answered as levelly as possible: “No, Doctor Moore.”

“Get going. Your team is waiting for you.”

Claire exhaled heavily as soon as the tight-faced woman bustled out of the room, clenching her teeth to avoid outwardly groaning.

“The Ratched already on your nerves?”

Claire practically jumped out of her skin. She turned in the swiveling chair to see a kind-faced black man about her age, perhaps a bit older, smiling at her. He was sitting at a computer as well, craning his neck around to look at her. His eyes were dark, but soft.

“Did you read my bloody mind?” Claire stammered, still slightly alarmed.

He gave a short, barking laugh. “Seems I did. Everyone calls her that. Not to her face, mind you.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Claire’s eyes widened at the thought of doing so.

“I’m Joe, Joe Abernathy.” He stood and crossed the room to shake her hand.

“Claire Beauchamp,” Claire returned, taking his hand.

He chuckled as he returned his hand to his side.

“What?” Claire said, face scrunching in suspicion.

“Just thinking about you asking if I read your bloody mind,” he said, flashing his teeth in a wide grin. “I heard you were English, but to hear it is another thing.”

Claire rolled her eyes, though she couldn't suppress her own smile as she turned back to the computer to complete her given task.

“Kids at home, huh?” His tone was sympathetic, having heard Doctor Moore’s reaming out of Claire.

“Just one,” Claire said. “I’m quite aware there are other parents here,” she continued hotly, though her anger was not directed at the man standing before her. “But I’d like to know how many of them are single parents of a daughter with special needs.”

Joe nodded in quiet understanding. “That must be tough, leaving her all day.”

Claire nodded, fighting the urge to check her phone again. “I’ve never left her alone with a babysitter this long. When I was in school I was still married, so she wasn’t ever alone for too long even though her father was a professor. After the move and the new schedules…I’m just worried.” All the while, Claire kept her eyes on the screen, scanning over charts and making mental notes. “The woman’s a marvel; I wouldn’t have hired her if she wasn’t. I just can’t help it. She’s nonverbal, my daughter. Autism.”

“Ah.” Joe nodded. “Gotcha.”

“So I just keep waiting for a call that she’s having a meltdown and that even the all-knowing, licensed professional can’t calm her down because she can’t tell her what’s wrong.” Claire shook her head, sighing. “It’s silly, I know.”

“Nah, not at all.” Joe shrugged, keeping his tone casual, but his eyes still shone with sympathy.

“Christ, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to unload my whole life story on you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I get it. I’ve never personally known anyone with autism, but you see it come in and out of the hospital often enough. It’s scary as hell when there’s something wrong and they can’t tell you, even the verbal ones sometimes.”

“Right.”

“I didn’t mean to make you worry more,” he said quickly. “I’m sure everything is just fine. All I’m saying is I get why you’re worried. And Ratched sure as hell doesn’t. I’d like to tell her to kiss my ass.”

Claire chuckled through her nose, taking note of one more thing on the computer before turning to smile up at him.

“Thanks, Doctor Abernathy.”

“Please, none of that in private.” He waved her off. “Just Joe when there are no patients.”

“Alright, then.” Claire logged off the computer and gathered her things. “Thanks, Joe.”

“No problem. Good luck out there, Lady Jane.”

She paused in the doorway. “What was that?”

He grinned. “One of the other residents called you that. Said your accent sounds like you just had tea with the queen.” He held up his hands, pantomiming holding a teacup and saucer, sticking his pinky out.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ.” Claire laughed, rolling her eyes as she wrenched the door open.

“Toodle-pip, my lady!” She heard him call behind her.

Christ, was she doomed to have nicknames thrown at her reminding her of her Englishness for all eternity?

Her heart warmed at the thought of that soft Scottish burr saying Sassenach, and more laughter bubbled in her chest at the thought of her newest title.

She supposed she didn’t mind.

——

Claire was dead on her feet by the time eight o’clock rolled around. She briefly glanced back at the hospital in her rear-view mirror as she pulled away, and despite how her head and feet throbbed, she was thrilled at the prospect of every day being like this one.

When she’d done her research on specialities back in the days before med school, she’d read of the unpredictability of Emergency Medicine, of never knowing what kinds of emergencies would burst through the doors at any given moment. The prospect had thrilled her then, and experiencing it first-hand now was even more thrilling. Today alone, she’d saved a man’s finger after a cooking knife incident, put a shoulder back in place, stopped a head wound from bleeding long enough to see the patient into a successful surgery, and saved a pregnant woman and the baby after trauma-induced labor from a car accident.

It was quite a heady feeling.

Despite the thrill, however, there was nothing Claire craved more than the sight of her little girl’s face, the sound of her happy humming to see that Mummy was home.

The whole day had gone by without a hitch, unless Mrs. Lickett was hiding something from her. The only updates she’d gotten were positive ones, prompted by Claire’s frantic “is everything ok??” texts.

Claire had washed up and changed out of her scrubs at the hospital so that she could spend whatever little time was left before Faith’s bedtime with her on the couch, and then she could fully shower and decompress once Faith was asleep.

Claire turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door, but before she could take a single step into the living room, a little body was plastered against her legs, wrapping itself tightly around her.

“Hello, baby!” Claire cried out joyously as a buzz of humming filled her ears. “Oh, Mummy missed you so much!” She pried her daughter off her legs and scooped her into her arms, dropping her bag on the porch. Claire held her close, kissing her cheek.

Faith nuzzled her face into Claire’s, rubbing her mother’s cheeks as their foreheads rested together.

“Hello love,” Claire whispered, rocking her gently in the doorway. “I missed you, too, baby. Yes, hello.”

Claire gradually moved them into the apartment, kicking her bag inside and nudging the door shut with her knee.

“Hello, Mrs. Lickett,” Claire said, struggling to meet her eye around Faith’s pawing of her face.

The older woman was smiling warmly. “Hello, Miss Beauchamp.”

“Everything was alright today, then?”

“Sure was,” Mrs. Lickett said. “Faith was a very good girl, right Faith?”

“Is that right, lovie? Were you a good girl for Mrs. Lickett?” Claire shifted her onto one hip and bounced her, eliciting a few giggles. A glance at the telly told her that Finding Nemo was nearing its end; Mrs. Lickett had paused it upon Claire’s arrival.

“How was the first day at the hospital?” Mrs. Lickett said, gathering her things.

“It was…a lot. But good, very good.” Claire crashed on the couch with Faith, trying to settle her and failing. Faith very firmly insisted on remaining in Claire’s lap. “I did miss her very much, though. It’s been a while since I’ve been away from her for so long.” She wrapped her arms around her and pressed a tender kiss to the crown of her head.

“I understand. I could tell she missed you, too, but I kept her pretty busy.”

“I appreciate that.”

“We started some basic signs today,” Mrs. Lickett beamed. “Might be a while before it registers, but at least she knows now. The more you start using them around her, the better.”

“Right.” Claire nodded. “I’ve been watching those videos you sent me every night.”

“That’s good.”

Faith made a rather indignant noise, pointing toward the telly.

“Somebody wants to get back to her movie,” Mrs. Lickett said.

“Right.” Claire forced a smile. She wanted to stop her from leaving, to sit down at the table and spend the entire night talking about every minute of the entire day, every little accomplishment, everything Faith was learning. But she supposed if she wanted that much involvement, she’d be home with them herself instead of pursuing a career as a full-time physician.

Jesus, Beauchamp. You sound like Frank.

Shuddering at the thought, Claire adjusted Faith so she could watch Mrs. Lickett go. “I’d see you out, but I’m a bit pinned down at the moment.” She gestured with her head to Faith, sitting in her lap and locking her grip on Claire’s arms around her.

“No problem. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Say goodnight, Faith,” Claire said, releasing an arm so she could wave to the woman. Faith mimicked her, waving emphatically as Mrs. Lickett shut the door behind her. The second she was gone, Faith groaned again at the telly, and Claire smiled.

“Alright, be patient.” Claire reached for the remote on the coffee table. “I’m quite eager to see if Nemo escapes to the ocean, as well.”

Claire, of course, had the movie memorized, along with the rest of the DVDs in their vast collection. Perhaps it was Faith rubbing off on her, but she didn’t think she’d ever tire of watching them over and over again, especially not if it meant she would always get to spend this time cradling her little girl.

When the movie ended about fifteen minutes later, Faith slipped out of Claire’s lap and waited expectantly by the DVD player. Normally, Faith liked to listen to the music during the ending credits, so Claire didn’t make any moves to take the disc out yet. Only when Faith grunted and started tugging on Claire’s hand did she get the message.

“No music tonight, darling?” she said, puzzled, as she removed the disc and handed the box to Faith to file away. She was buzzing with excitement. Something was up, and Claire was none the wiser. The very second the DVD was away, Faith bolted into her bedroom, leaving Claire bewildered. She’d only just started to get up when Faith returned, holding a pile of colorful paper in her hands.

“What’s this, now?” Claire’s face lit up at the sight of Faith’s toothy grin, holding up the construction paper. Claire could see they were cut into the shape of little fish, and they were plastered with glitter, pompoms, google-eyes, and marker.

“Did you make these, Faith? Did you make these little fishies?” Faith hummed loudly and jumped up and down. “Oh, they’re marvelous, darling! You’re quite the little artist!”

Claire perused every single colorful fish, and she made a note to thank Mrs. Lickett. Arts and crafts were something Claire had never been into as a child herself, and something she didn’t have the time or the creative mind to think of. It was obvious now that Faith adored creating, and Claire wanted to smack herself upside the head for not thinking of it sooner. God bless that Mrs. Lickett.

“No wonder we watched Nemo tonight, hm? Are these Nemo’s little friends, then?” Claire held up a bright pink paper fish and swam it around in the air, much to Faith’s delight. Faith joined in the little game, and though Claire knew that bedtime was rapidly approaching — for both of them — she couldn’t bring herself to stop.

After a few minutes, Claire led Faith into the kitchen so they could use magnets to put the fish on the fridge. Claire let her arrange them to her heart’s content, only leading her into the bathroom when she was satisfied.

Teeth brushed, pajamas donned, Faith tucked in, and nightlight on, Claire finally allowed herself to fully feel the exhaustion of her day. The adrenaline of seeing Faith had kept her wide awake on the drive home, and then actually being with her had chased away any thoughts of sleepiness. Now, she barely had the energy to prepare a shower, and she very well almost crashed into bed, fully dressed. It was sheer willpower that finally got her back into the bathroom. This reminded her that tomorrow was bath night for Faith, and she sent up a brief prayer that she would cooperate for Mrs. Lickett. She’d considered waiting until she got home and just taking her into the shower with her, but that would have interrupted the movie, and God forbid that should happen. But if she’d waited until the movie was over, it would have been too late, and the routine would be disrupted. No, it had to be Mrs. Lickett.

Washed and dressed for bed, Claire was wide awake, despite how weariness was etched into every muscle and bone in her body. She could not stop thinking about all of the silly little things that could go wrong while she was occupied at the hospital, of all the possible triggers for a meltdown that she would not be able to stop. No matter how well today had gone, no matter how wonderful Mrs. Lickett was, she’d never stop worrying. Maybe not never, but it would certainly be a long time. At some point in her fevered, internal ramblings, Claire teetered into oblivion, grateful for whatever sleep she was lucky enough to get before her alarm screamed again.

——

Claire drove home the following Friday, her knuckles white on the steering wheel and her vision blurred with tears. She’d been so damn grateful to clock out at four o’clock, and she’d barely made it out of the locker room without falling apart in front of Joe.

She lost a patient for the first time today. Paul Castano, forty-seven, much too young for the heart attack that killed him.

Claire had been beside herself, and Joe had soothed her, told her there was nothing she could have done.

“Go home and hug your daughter, Lady Jane,” he’d said. “Enjoy the horses. You need it as much as she does right now.”

And, Christ, did she.

Claire hugged Faith just a little too hard for the slightest bit too long when she got home after nearly bursting into tears at Faith’s joy to see her. Faith did not tolerate being held as such for very long, and she squirmed out of Claire’s grasp. Today, not only was Faith happy to see her mother, she was excited: she knew it was horse therapy day.

Seeing Faith so happy to see her and so excited to get to the stables was a welcome distraction from the anguish Claire was feeling. The drive over to the stables was calming as well, though Claire was now paranoid about the change in appointment times. Toni hadn’t called her at all, so she had no reason to believe that the switch hadn’t gone over well. She supposed after the day she’d had, she’d be prone to overthinking just about anything.

Upon arrival, she calmed considerably at seeing Faith’s exuberance, and even laughed when she began tugging on her hand, willing them to get inside faster.

Leave it to you to get me laughing on the worst of days, Faith.

The door to the visitor’s center opened, and Faith began humming loudly.

“There they are, the Beauchamp girls!” Toni greeted warmly.

“Hello, Toni. Say hello to Miss Toni, Faith.”

“Hello, Faith!” Toni called as Faith waved timidly.

Erica was standing by the counter, and she crouched down to greet Faith. “Hello, Princess. I’m so happy to see you again!”

Faith smiled shyly and hid half of her little body behind her mother’s legs.

“I’m gonna take you guys out to the stable today, get her started with the hellos and leading her to the riding hall.” Erica stood up to address Claire. “Jamie will join us when we get there.”

“Alright,” Claire said, exhaling deeply. “Shall we?”

——

Joe had been right. Claire needed that hour at the stables just as much as Faith had. As they were driving home, Claire felt something resembling peace settle in her heart. Faith was humming happily, kicking her legs, waving the newest Minion Happy Meal toy in the air.

She did very well again today. She was gentle with Pippi, she didn’t protest about the helmet, she was attentive to both Erica and Jamie. Claire kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to go terribly wrong, but it just never did. Not at the stables, at least.

They arrived home, Faith zipping up the stairs to the front door as usual. Claire was grateful to get to watch an entire movie with Faith tonight, to decompress, to hold her little girl and be soothed by her oblivious, youthful happiness. When they passed through the front door, Claire dumped the contents of her arms onto the couch as usual and started toward the kitchen, but Faith did not follow.

“Faithie, come on! Don’t you want your chicken?”

Faith didn’t seem to hear her. She lifted Claire’s purse and looked underneath, and then let out a groan.

“What’s the matter darling?”

Faith made a beeline for the front door, and Claire sprinted to lock it, having forgotten to do so upon arriving home.

“No, no, no,” she quickly blocked Faith’s exit. “What are you doing, Faith? What’s wrong?”

Faith began whining and pawing at Claire, hitting her thighs.

“Do not hit, Faith.” Claire crouched down and grabbed her wrists. “What is wrong? Hm? Hungry? Tired? Pain?” She did the signs that she’d learned from the videos Mrs. Lickett had sent. “Can you sign for Mummy? What’s wrong?”

Of course, she couldn’t. It was much too soon for Faith to be carrying out conversation; she’d only just learned any signs at all.

Faith suddenly began wailing.

“Faith, baby, it’s alright, I’m here…” She wrapped her in her arms, but it only lasted for a moment. Faith clawed her way out and began pounding on the door.

What could possibly be wrong? What was she looking for on the couch…?

Then it dawned on her.

Horsie.

She hadn’t checked to see if Faith was holding the stuffed horse before they left the stables.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“Oh, darling, it’s alright!” She stroked her head and tried cupping her cheeks. “Can you look at my eyes, Faith? Faith…it’s alright. We’ll get Horsie back next week. He’ll be alright.”

She was inconsolable.

Claire exhaled heavily and stood up to retrieve the Happy Meal from the coffee table.

“Aren’t you hungry, darling? McDonald’s! Your favorite!” She held the box in front of Faith’s eyes. “Come on, lovie, let’s go eat.”

She reached to grab her hand, but Faith shrieked and pulled back, apparently having no intention of eating a thing until Horsie was returned. She’d be quite hungry by next Friday.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ…” Claire threw the Happy Meal back on the coffee table and ran a hand through her hair.

She needs to eat dinner. I have to make this stop. There has to be something…

“Do you want to watch a movie, lovie? How about Frozen?”

Claire scrambled to get the DVD in, holding her breath until the movie started, praying that she’d be drawn to the screen and sit down to watch quietly, and then she could gradually coax her to eat on the couch.

But she just continued wailing.

Claire knew full well once a meltdown was in motion it had to run its course. And this particular meltdown would not run its course until the missing object in question was found.

But she can’t not eat, she can’t not sleep…

Claire didn’t realize she started crying until it was too late.

It was just too much. She’d held a man’s hand today while he died before her eyes, and then hugged his inconsolable wife while she came to terms with having to tell her children their father wasn’t coming home. And then Claire had come home and sought comfort in her own child, and she’d gotten a bit, but of course it didn’t last long.

She knew by the time she drove back, the stable would be closed, so she could not go and pick it up. She tried calling the stable, but no one answered. Apparently, everyone had already gone home.

Faith gave a particularly loud shriek, and Claire felt all her nerves go shot one by one. Hands trembling she scrolled through her phone for something, anything.

Jamie.

Toni had provided her the stable number, her own number, and Jamie’s number in case the main phone was busy. He’d mentioned that he and the other therapists took turns staying after closing to see to the horses. She threw up a quick prayer before clicking on his contact to start a phone call. Even if he wasn’t the one that had stayed today, perhaps he could tell her who had and give her their number?

As the line rang, she felt surges of panic go through her. Was this even appropriate? To be contacting his personal cell number for something that wasn’t really an emergency?

Faith started pounding on the front door again, screaming her head off all the while.

Claire suddenly didn’t given a fuck about what was appropriate.

——

Jamie was sitting at his kitchen table, enjoying the stir fry he’d made for himself and his usual glass of whisky. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he made a note to check his texts later, but then it kept buzzing. Somebody was calling him.

Curious, he pulled out his phone and saw a number he didn’t recognize.

“Bloody telemarketers,” was his first thought, but the area code was local. Eyes narrowing in curiosity, he swiped up to accept the call, setting his fork down.

"Hallo? Who's this?"

"Uh...hi, Jamie. It's Claire. Claire Beauchamp. From the stables.”

Jamie felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him.

"Oh...Oh! Uh, hello, Claire. What's uh...what's going on?"

Someone on the other end shrieked, and his stomach lurched.

"Is that Faith? Is she alright?"

"Yes, she's perfectly fine. Physically, at least. She left her horse at the stable, the stuffed one. She's absolutely beside herself and she won't stop crying. Nothing is calming her down, none of her other toys, not putting on a movie or music, not even food.”

Jamie felt his chest tighten. Her voice sounded strained, and she seemed completely frazzled. The second he’d laid eyes on her at the stable today he could tell that something was wrong. It wasn’t the usual sadness he saw in her eyes, it was something different, something visceral. Whatever was happening now was certainly not helping.

“She won't eat, and I know she won't sleep either. I called you because no one was picking up at the stable and I was hoping you'd still be there but just not near the phone?"

"Yeah, I'm still here. Just in the stable. Canna hear the phone," he answered without thinking. What the damned hell are ye doing, lad?

"Oh, thank Christ. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

"No," he said quickly. "I'll, uh, I'll bring it to ye."

"What...?"

"Wouldna do fer ye to be drivin' wi' Faith as she is now." Though Jamie was making things up to cover the fact that he was already home, he wasn't entirely wrong. Even if he was at the stable, he wouldn't feel comfortable with Claire driving twenty minutes with a screaming bairn. "Wouldna be safe.”

"But...it's...are you sure...? You wouldn't get in trouble?"

"Nah. I'm sure other therapists have done the same fer some o' their kids."

Keep digging, James.

"But you haven't done it before?"

"No."

"But others have?"

"Aye." Liar.

"Alright...as long as you're sure it's not inappropriate."

"Only inappropriate if we make it so, Sassenach."

Why the bloody fuck did I say that?

Claire cleared her throat. “Right. So…you’ve got my address from Faith’s file?”

“Aye.”

“So...twenty minutes? Half hour?"

"Aye. Just about."

Idiot. Bloody feckin’ idiot.

"Alright. See you soon."

"Bye, then."

Jamie hung up, threw his phone on the table and slapped an exasperated hand over his face.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph! What is wrong wi’ ye?”

#outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #outlander au #claire fraser #claire beauchamp #faith fraser #jamie fraser #joe abernathy

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ladyfiresfanfiction · 4 years ago

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Flying the Nest; One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest Fic- Chapter Two.

Sorry I am late, guys and girls! I completely forgot that Sunday had been Easter, so it was a busy day with family. This is a bit longer than chapter one and has a bit more of a backstory on Janie. I’m also trying something new to include the reader in my story, too! Let me know what you think of this idea and the second chapter. I’ll be staring the next chapter tomorrow! Enjoy :)

I don't remember speaking this much since I received the call that Charles Bogney had been found in his family's guest room, hanging from his belt behind the closet door. His mother found him, a bottle of Percodan underneath him, what little was left strewn below his feet on the wood flooring, an empty bottle of 40-ounce Belgian imported beer shattered on the ground from when he dropped it as he lost consciousness and passed away, alone and in misery. Our mutual friend, another toxic ex-boyfriend of mine whose name was Bryan Harris, had to be the one to call me. I had been trying to get into contact with Charles for the last few weeks of his short life. I felt something was wrong. Deep inside I knew if I didn't get a hold of Charley, he would die prematurely. Unfortunately, my gut feeling and seemingly spot on premonition had come to fruition. The first few weeks after Charles had died, I blacked it out. I remember feeling as if the world stopped and froze as Bryan had stammered the news of Charles's death. My heart skipped a few beats and my vision started to become blurry. I dropped to my knees, the phone on the ground as I let out guttural cries of pain that escaped my lips and waves of tears burned my eyes like acid. I cried inconsolably for the first 96 hours of Charles leaving the planet. I couldn't make the trip to his native state of California for his funeral, and I refused calls and visitors for much of the first month of his passing. My only nutrition became opium, cocaine, amphetamines, and alcohol. My family treated me as if I was a lepper, never understanding I had lost the great love of my life, despite the toxic and harrowing past we shared.

Mac listened intently as he showed me around the grounds. The outside, where the patients (which we coined them the lovable nuts) could come out for fresh air and sunshine for an allotted amount of time per day was fenced in, but it was a spacious and breathtaking piece of land. Large trees that covered most of the land, little trails for patients to walk with supervising orderlies or nurses, tables for patients and the staff alike to enjoy a little solitude during the day. It even had a fairly big basketball court and exercise areas near the shockingly high chainlink fence, which was adorned with razor wire to dismay any patient who thought of running away from the hospital. Overall, it looked like paradise for someone who enjoyed being a prisoner. Mac talked of hearing about the patients going on some field trip, however, it would be just for the boys. The girls had had their own trip last week. As we stopped at the entrance of the second-floor corridor in front of a massive pair of white double doors, Mac turned to me and looked broken. He cleared his throat, forcing me to pay attention and face him.

"I'll never forgive myself for leaving you with Harry and Ethel. You probably wouldn't be as bad off if I just would have taken you with me. You were just a little girl, though. And I was an irresponsible and young angsty teenager. I thought maybe they would have taken better care of you than they did me. I'm so sorry Jane. I have done horrible things but nothing has given me more pride and made me want to be a better man than having you as my kid sister. You'll never have to be alone again." Mac spoke in a low yet sincere voice.

"It wasn't your job to parent me. You were eighteen when you struck out on your own, and I was only nine. They were so awful to you. You had to get out before they drove you certifiable. Charles brought me here for a reason. I feel it. I'm just glad to have my big brother back. We're going to make this place ours, Mackie. Then when we get out, we can start lives worth living." I said, patting his shoulder.

"If you need me, even if it's at night, I'll come find you. There are phones in here, all you have to do is call and ask for me. I'll be here in a jiffy. I'll see you during our counseling session with Ratched and the crew tomorrow. Get some rest, Baby Jane."

As soon as I walked in, I was brought to intake. My medical history was repeated, I was weighed, my temperature taken, asked a slew of questions, and then I was given an ugly patient garb to wear. As I was taken to the room I would be sleeping in, I saw that in each room there was a telephone with a pamphlet that had numbers to the nurse's station as well as the number for Spivey's office and the number for the nurse's station on the men's floor. Each room on the ladie's floor had three beds for three patients per room, a chair and desk, and a nice comfy-looking Cloth chair with a desk on one side and in the far right corner a bookcase filled with books to read. I would have been far more comfortale to be in a solitary room, or shared a room with my brother and his roommates, but it was against the hospital's policy for men and women to be roommates. I sighed, taking in a breath of courage, and went straight to bed, avoiding the two people I would be bunking with until I had the energy to introduce myself. In fullfledged withdrawal from opiates and alcohol I was writhing in pain already after only 14 hours without a hit and a drink and I was so sleep deprived. I felt dead on my feet. I threw my haggard body on my bed and soon enough, sleep overpowered me.

The comfort of unconsciousness would not last for long, though.

The Ladies ward had come alive with an ear piercing scream in the dead of night. It was only a quarter past one a.m. when animalistic cries and screams of "Charley! Please! No!" had caused an overnight nurse, the security guard, and an on call doctor, and every patient on the ward to jolt awake in sheer terror. After several unsuccessful attempts at shaking my writhing body awake, a slight slap to my cheeks jostled me and my eyes widened as I jolted upright in bed, taking in gulp fulls of oxygen as if I had been strangled. I shrink back as I see a roommate of mine looking worried and sitting gingerly on the edge of my bed.

"Are you okay?" You ask.

"I-I-I'm fine. I-I'm so-sorry. I... I have night terrors.." I stammered, trying to explain my problem.

"I have them, too. Don't be sorry. My name is (y/n), but everybody calls me (y/n/n), what is your name?" You asked.

"It's ni-ice to meet you, (y/n). My name is Janie McMurphy."

Before we could get to know each other further, three staff members burst into the room with a mix of alarm and annoyance etched into their faces. Turkle, the nighttime guard of the hospital joined a nighttime nurse whose name I had already forgotten, along with Spivey's nighttime replacement, Doctor Stuart. Another body scrambled in not too long after, a flustered and scared Mac. I buried my reddening face in my hands as four voices bombarded me with questions I was too tired and ultimately too annoyed to deal with.

"Sweetheart, what happened?" Turkle asked. "You have a set of lungs on you, don'tcha?"

"Do I need to call Doctor Spivey for you, Miss McMurphy?" Doctor Stuart asked.

"I'm going to get you a diazepam pill, Miss McMurphy. It's all okay, I promise. Mister McMurphy, we'll give you five minutes then you need to go back to your own bed on the bottom floor." The nurse said, winking at Mac.

"She had a night terror, Mister Turkle," (y/n) began. "It's okay, I got her up. Could I have one too, Nurse Katt? I can't fall asleep tonight." they asked.

"Sure. I'll be right back. Doctor Stuart will be sure to write this occurrence in a note for Nurse Ratched and Doctor Spivey and you can see them both tomorrow morning. Five minutes, Mac." Nurse Katt added as she, Turkle, and Stuart left the room.

(Y/N) shyly smiled at Mac when they made their way back to their bed, turning on their side to face the wall to give the two of us some form of privacy. I was hugging my knees to my chest in the bed, avoiding Mac's eyes. He let out an audible sigh and sat beside me, placing a comforting arm around my shoulders. I trembled, trying to keep my eyes from overflowing with tears and took in a shaky breath, resting my head on my brother’s shoulder. We didn't talk; we sat in silence until I faced him.

"I'm sorry you came up here, Mac, but I'm fine." I said.

“The nurse called me as soon as she heard your first scream. I came as soon as I could. Why are you sorry?” He asked softly.

“I’m sorry for a lot of things, but mostly for waking you up, brother. I just can’t control these fucking night terrors.” I replied, scrunching my eyes shut as more tears threatened to brim over.

"How long have these damn things been happening?" He asked, looking down at me.

"For almost two years... Since Charles killed himself." I replied, quietly.

"Meet me in my room around seven o'clock, ok? We'll have breakfast together and head to therapy together. It's going to be okay, Jane. Thank you, (Y/N), for helping my sister, sweetheart. I appreciate it." Mac smiled as he stood up and ventured back to his own floor.

The next morning I awoke before my two roommates, one being (Y/N) who stayed up with me until the diazepam knocked us into another universe, and another patient around our age named Elise who had slept through the night terror debacle. (Y/N) said that Elise was used to their night terrors and usually saved a few barbiturates so nothing would disturb her at night.

I made my way to the first floor, skulking into the first room on the right, which Mac said would be the room he shared with “one giant motherfucker named Chief, but he’s harmless so don’t be scared.” I felt uncomfortable in my new uniform, or prisoner’s gear as I called it. As I looked around and made my way through the large corridor and found Mac laughing with a rather large Native man, I nearly ran right into someone.

“Oh! God, I am s-“ I began, finally taking in who I nearly ran right through.

“I-I-Its n-no problem, Muh-muh-Miss.” A very red Billy Bibbit replied.

“No, really, Billy, I am very sorry. I was looking for my brother and just wasn’t watching where I was going.” I smiled, looking away shyly.

“M-M-Mac is-is-is ri-ri-ri-right in there, Miss.” He smiled, pointing to the door behind me.

“Call me Janie.” I said, finally looking at him and finding myself entranced by his big blue eyes.

“Okay… J-Ja-Ja-Jaaanie.” He smiled back, forcing my name out through stutters that flustered him.

“Did you, uh, wanna have breakfast with Mac and me?” I asked.

“O-Oh, I’d like to, b-b-b-b-but I have my morn-ning appointment wi-ith Doctor Sp-Spivey now. Raincheck?” He asked, hopefully.

“Of course. I’ll see you around, Billy.” I smiled, watching as he walked away.

“My dear, dear sister,” Mac began, smirking devilishly as he stood in the doorway of his room.

“I do believe you would eat that boy alive if you two became an item. Come on in, there’s somebody I want you to meet.”

I walked into Mac’s small room and saw the man he was speaking with earlier, getting his shirt on. He nodded at me and I waved. I looked around their room and was surprised at how gloomy and small it was. The ladies had larger rooms with picture windows and furniture. However, the men’s room only held two beds and a kind of chain fence separating rooms with the other men in the ward. Their one large window in the room was locked down tight and had bars on it so the patients had no way of escaping, even if they managed to open their window. I watched Mac talk quietly with the man he called Chief, leaving me standing there awkwardly. Over an intercom it was announced that it was time for medication and all patients needed to walk single-file to the medication window. I walked out with Mac and Chief and found that the women in the hospital were standing in a line next to the men, and I stood with Elise and (Y/N).

“Remember, Janie, breakfast after this. We’ll go to the cafeteria; there’s a small window table we can eat at.” Mac whispered, and I nodded.

Billy and I stood in line side-by-side, and every time I looked over, I caught him staring at me, which made him turn scarlet. I felt self-conscious, wondering if I looked too fat in this uniform, or if my hair was a rat’s nest, or if there was something wrong with me. Mac was utterly amused and mouthed “Billy has a crush on you” to me, but I rolled my eyes and shook my head. He was just being nice, or so I thought.

The doctor put me on diazepam at night in hopes of ending my night terrors, and in the day time had me on a cocktail of medication. Something for my debilitating anxiety, two different medications that were supposed to work together for depression, something for my PTSD and flashbacks, and a mood stabilizer. Within ten minutes I was at the table with Mac, and he was telling me how he ended up here, a girl had lied about her age and her parents found them having sex. She lied that he raped her and her parents pressed charges and that while he was innocent, he figured he would never beat the case so he came here as a last ditch effort to avoid spending a third of his life in prison. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but I nodded. I believed my brother and I loved him. He had a knack for choosing the wrong girls as I had a knack for choosing the wrong guys.

Several of his new friends sat with us; Taber, who I noticed liked to scream a lot, a pompous and annoyingly whiny man named Harding, a smart and friendly older man named Cheswick, and a little guy who didn’t talk much but was always smiling, whose name was Martini. Chief was minding his own business and standing in the far left corner of the cafeteria, near the exit and watching everyone. He liked to make the staff think he was deaf, mute, and dumb. Once Mac found out that in fact, Chief could not only talk and hear but he was as sharp as a tack, he laughed heartily and gave the Native man a high five, impressed with his trickery and his way of staying sane in this insane place.

“Hey, Billy boy! Can ya show my sister the good Doc’s office? She kinda forgot where it was and I’m still eating this slop here. I’d owe ya one.” He said, winking at me.

Billy had stopped by the table as he had finished his meeting with the doctor to let me know Doctor Spivey was looking for me. He tried to avoid my gaze but caught several glimpses of my blue-green eyes before bashfully turning his head away. I nodded and stood up as Mac grabbed my wrist.

“U-u-Uh, su-sure, M-M-Mac. Come on, Ja-Ja-Janie.” Billy replied, holding out his hand to me.

“Thanks, Billy.” I muttered, glaring at Mac who feigned innocence.

We didn’t speak much on the way to the Doctor’s office. I felt lost in a sea of fog since this was my first day taking the new medication, and Billy seemed pensive along with being super nervous. As we made it to the office, we stood outside there, not speaking nor looking at each other right away.

“Will you be at th-th-the therapy session today, Janie?” He asked, looking at me this time.

“I sure will. Ratched knows what happened last night and I guess wants me to talk about it today.” I replied, feeling nauseous at the thought.

“Don-don-don’t worry. She ca-can be mean, b-b-b-but deep down she’s a n-n-n-nice lady. She’s friends w-with my m-m-mother, so I’ve known her mo-most of my l-l-life. I’ll be there for y-y-you if things get hard. I promise.” He explained.

This time I looked at him. Really looking and overcome with a feeling I hadn’t felt in a long time; safety. I barely knew this cute boy but he, along with my brother, were ready to protect me and get involved in my messy life. I wanted to cry and I wanted to hug Billy, but I didn’t know how he would take that just yet. I smiled and thanked him, finally letting go of his hand before watching him walk away. He had a sweet smile plastered on his lips, his eyes lit up as we said our goodbyes. His soft brown curls bouncing as he jogged back to the cafeteria. I slid down the wall and sat there, trying to gain my composure before recounting what I dealt with last night. The door opened after five minutes and I looked up to see the doctor himself extend a hand and help me to my feet.

“Ah, there you are, Miss McMurphy. Let’s get to the bottom of these night terrors, shall we?”

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dylanxmin · 5 years ago

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painkiller ∣ 2 ∣ j.hs

breakups are habitual, ordinary maybe even easy for some other people, and maybe it could be easy for you, too, if you haven’t been dumped by your boyfriend after finding out that you were pregnant. no, it wasn’t easy even a bit. and a stranger who wants to be your side doesn’t make this all easy for you, at all.

pairing; jung hoseok x reader

genre; angst, fluff, humor, pregnancy au, strangers to lovers au, single!mom au, slice of life au,,

warnings; angst, and more angst(we will have less angst in time i promise), swearings, mention of sexual harrasment(it’s a light scene)

word count; 7.4k

rating; nc17

a/n; heyo!! i know i’m pretty late, but it took me ages to write, and it was hard for me to gather my thoughts to turn them into writing,, but yes, here i am with the episode 2!! i hope you can enjoy this episode as much as the first one. i’m really happy with the feedbacks i got with the first episode, and i love to write this fic, so thank you for encouraging me more to write about this hoseok and y/n. i still need your feedbacks tho lol,, love you all ♡

previous ➭ ˚masterlist˚ ➭ next

taglist; @xxluckydreamsxx ,, @parkminhee

∣ send me an ask if you want to be on the tag list ∣

‘Can you please take this to Jin?’ Jimin asked the man who passes by him, causing him to stop, eyes narrowed after he looks at Jimin. ''You know I would, but I have to finish this resource, and he doesn't want to see me before I finish this,'' Jimin begs once again, eyes taking the shape of a puppy. What Jimin said is not a lie, and he is drowning in research for a patient, where Jin asked him a lot while ago, and he is a bit scared to see him before he finishes this.

''Okay, okay. Give me that,'' Jimin coos, wiggling his body before handing the file to the man who saves him, with a big grin on his face. ''I owe you big time!'' he yells, while the other man takes a turn at the big white corridor. His big grin fades after he turns his papers, he has a lot of things to do yet, he finds himself procrastinating, as he always does.

Hoseok folds the file in his hand, sighing to himself, and asks why he always finds himself while agreeing what Jimin says. And not only on work, but he also does this at home, where he feels too lazy to do the dishes or the laundry. Hoseok loves him, loves him like a brother, but he has to learn to say no. Both for his and Jimin's sake, otherwise, he will find himself while beating his ass. Hoseok takes another turn, where Jin's room is, but before he could open the door, someone does it before him.

Hoseok barely holds himself from crashing on you, his eyes wide open due to the sudden move. A little whimper leaves his lips, but you were too busy to hear that or even see him. He goes silent after seeing the tears on your eyes, the pain, and uncertainty on your face. A very familiar face with the familiar emotions on it. Hoseok's mouth takes an 'o' shape, eyes watching you to getting away from him.

While trying to understand what just happened, he enters the room after knocking two times. A line appeared between his brows, familiar yet unknown feeling fills him, he wants to shake his body, head to toe. ''Is she?'' he doubts, eyes finding his friends who have the same confusion on his face. Hoseok couldn't understand why he was feeling this way, and why he was happy to see you again. He lets a deep breath, closing the door before heading to the chair, and sits where you just left. ''Well, it's a small world, huh?'' Jin laughs as he said something funny, but Hoseok crinkles his nose, gives him a blank stare in return.

''Wait... she is pregnant?'' his eyes went round, for some reason he couldn't bring these two things together, even though not knowing you enough to come up with a character analysis. ''Yes, but good news, she wasn't drunk, rather than what we think,'' Jin gave a half-smile, open his arms to emphasize the good news he was giving.

On the contrary to his friend, this news wasn't good for Hoseok. He remembered how you looked down in the dump the day he first saw you, and after seeing you with tears on your eyes, he felt heartbroken. He didn't know you well, but he couldn't help but want to reach you and talk to you about this.

''Hobi, don't tell me that you are thinking about talking to her or something... please,'' Jin grunted after seeing how sadness clouded his friend's features. Jin knew well enough that Hoseok would do something such a thing. He couldn't understand why, but Hoseok always tried to help others, even without knowing them, so Jin was sure that he would that once again.

Just like Jin afraid of Hoseok's whole face lit up, he throws the file he holds in his hand at Jin's desk before leaving his office in hurry. The doctor hit his face with his palm, shaking his head in disbelief. ''He never learns,'' he sighs, grabbing the file for distracting himself from his too friendly friend.

While Jin is already focusing on the work, Hoseok finds himself while eavesdropping the conversation you have with your mother, as he heard you calling the person as 'mom' over the phone. He didn't mean to overhear your phone call or acting like a creep once again, but he couldn't approach you after seeing you on the phone, in a deep conversation. He was just going to wait until you finish your call, as he said to himself, but courage left his body after you get up from the bench. His body betrays himself, and he stands there only to watch you getting away once again.

''Aish... stupid legs,'' he scoffs, leaning the back of his head to the wall, chewing on his bottom lip. He swears himself to come to your side when he sees you again. And his instincts say him that he will see you again.

Fried eggs, boiled eggs, or any kind of eggs, it didn't matter how they made it, or why they made. You hate it. You hate it with all of your presence. While the scent of the very disgusting thing starts to spread, there is no way for you to refrain from jerking your body from your bed, hitting your toes to every possible object in your room, thanks to your sleepy head. This is how you start your beautiful day.

Spasming and ratching above your toilet, nails digging into the napkin you hold one of your hands, as your life was depending on it.

As you barely hold your head up and eyes still tightly shut, you prayed to not dripping your newly cleaned floor. Fortunately, throwing up with closed eyes wasn't your first time, but they were only caused by your drunkness, rather than pregnancy.

And this is your story how you found yourself above on the toilet, pouring everything inside of you. Your nose crinkled at the sight, pushing the flush after throwing the napkin that you wiped your mouth. Morning sickness officially trying to end your life, as it was interrupting your sleep every morning, which a pregnant woman needs sleep. And stealing your food, vitamins, and all the other beneficial objects from your body. Also, the things that a pregnant woman most needed.

After you lift yourself from the ground and splashing cold water to your face, a little drop takes a track from your sleeves, dripping the white cotton rug. When the very hideous smell hits, closer this time, you stop wiping your face to the towel. No... no. He did not do that.

Your eyes find the man's big grin in the mirror, but his grin fades after seeing your petrified glares staring the pan he holds with big confidence. ''Don't you dare to take one step closer,'' you warn the man with red hair, eyes darting over the pan and his rounded eyes. His eyebrows waggled, holding the pan a little higher to your dismay. ''Aigo... I present to you the best breakfast and this is my reward? And I'm waiting here for a big fat thanks. What a shame...''

''Tae, just hold that scum far away from me!''

''Stop being a brat and thank me, you brat!'' he pouts while holding out the pan, but his eyes sparkled with horror after seeing you cover your mouth while letting a loud gag. ''You are just being dramatic here,'' he says, turning his back at you, but he holds himself from making a sound while visibly ratching. If Taehyung had a list of weird habits of him, throwing up after seeing, or hearing someone throwing up would be on the list. He makes a speed walk in your corridor, trying not to hear your sound.

You push the flush once again while listing how to kill someone before getting physically fight in your mind. Poisoning is the first thing to comes across your mind, but you let those thoughts slide from your mind before heading inside. He was too young to die anyway.

The red-haired man lets out a big sigh, the brooding eyes meet with yours. ''I still can't believe that you are pregnant,'' he throws the last cherry tomato to his mouth, chewing it loudly. ''and when are you going to visit Yuri, she is still super surprised,'' he says nonchalantly while making a small sandwich with salami and the fried egg.

''You mean my mom?'' you questioned, voice comes out hoarse as you hold your nose while sending him deadly glares. ''and can you just not eat this today?'' you gestured the salami and the egg, turning your head to another side, trying to hold your gag.

Taehyung scoffs, murmuring how you destroyed the beautiful morning for him, but he can't take the risk of making you vomit all over the kitchen, so he moves them away from you. ''Better?'' he asks after opening the kitchen window, and you nod appreciatively. ''Yuri-... I mean your mother called me after you gave her the news, and told me everything. I hope you won't get back with that bastard because we said pretty good things behind him,'' he plastered a smile on his face, adjusting his hair by brushing it with his hand.

''I'm still upset with you if you haven't realized it. I'm your best friend and you didn't even bother to give me a call. I wait for three days, but nothing.'' he rolled his eyes, arms crossed above his chest.

Well, he did have a point by being upset with you, but you hold yourself from giggling as you remembered his face when he comes to your door yesterday, at two o'clock. Eyes of him seizing you in disbelief, one of his hand resting on his chest, above his heart, shaking his head side to side, slowly. He emerged inside, telling you how angry and upset he was, but as you were pregnant he wasn't going to yell at you and make the baby sad. Rather, he gave you the 'how could you' look for a whole night long. And, for your belief, it was worse than him yelling at you.

He would scold you when he can, between changing every fabric that contains the very memories of your ex, aside with his scent. The scent that tearing your heart, suffocates you to death. He would be cursing and swearing in every two minutes behind your ex, send him the most negative thoughts, mentally. You hardly convince him to send his stuff to charity, and not to burn.

In his defense, burning them would clear the bad aura he left behind. More likely, that may or may not ease the fire and the hate Taehyung feels about him. Probably won't, you guessed.

''This is all new for me Tae... Even I can't believe that I'm pregnant,'' you shared, taking a sip from your tea. The weird taste of it made you scrunch your face, but Taehyung made you this saying it was good for a pregnant woman. ''And before I visit my mom, I have to get used to being like this,'' you peek a glance to your belly. As you said to him, it was too new for you to face your mother with a living creature in your stomach.

Yet, you don't think you will ever get used to this feeling.

''Okay...'' he nods, licks the chocolate from his fork. But soon after, he gets up and tells you that he had enough of this gloomy atmosphere. He cleans the kitchen, and not letting you help him even though you try, he kicks you out from your kitchen. After he finishes, he tries to guess if it's a she or a he, or maybe neither in his defense. Asks you a lot of questions about pregnancy, makes a couple of jokes about how you knocked up and then he starts to look for baby clothes. When he can't decide what to buy, he calls your mother, but the conversation even comes to your highly charismatic doctor, and you show them his picture.

It's not the best side of him as it was in the hospital site, still, it was enough to drop Taehyung's chin to the ground. He threatens you to stay away from him, narrows his eyes to reassure you that he was serious, but you just put a couple of slaps on his shoulder between in your laughs.

''There are people out there, looking like a statue, plus, a brain on their skull. Yet, my naive daughter chooses the stupid one and an ugly stupid,'' your mother sighs, shakes her head, causing Taehyung to burst into laughter. You on the other hand whine and pout the very offensive comment your mother did. Not that she is not right, but how could you possibly know that your three-year relationship would end like that. ''I hope this baby chooses to be like you. At least from the outside,'' another laughter raises from your best friend, your mom won't stop teasing you and ganging up with the redhead.

''I thought you two would be the wind on my back, not to spit on my face,'' the old woman looks at you the same way as the younger adult. Eyes narrowed, lips pressed together. Both of them try to understand what was that supposed to mean, and you giggle, still surprised by the similarity of the old lady and the young male. It's not a wonder how people thought Taehyung as your mother's son, rather than you.

''She is just making up words to get us, don't fool by it, Yuri!'' Taehyung warns, mouth twists in disgust and disbelief. And the called woman agrees, hums, and nods her head. You were being a third-wheel between your biological mother and your very best friend. At least you were feeling, and you start to pout. Arms crossed over your chest, having an attitude without making a big fuss.

Soon after you talk hours and hours, Taehyung and your mom got your sympathy before he gets up to head his home, insists on making you come with him, but you refuse for thousand times. ''You know I'd stay but the couch isn't good for my back,'' you giggle before kissing him goodbye and he leaves after telling you to call him for even the smallest thing.

The ease on your shoulders fades, sorrow gathers on your chest soon after Taehyung left. Once again, you are grateful to have him in your life. From the first time, you two met in the elementary school, said man never left your side, up this day. You two hold the hands of each other when you had your first vaccine, and never stop holding. Somewhere the friendship of the two turned to the friendship of the four when Taehyung befriends with Yoongi and Namjoon.

You love them, adore them for the chaos they bring to your life. That's why you kept your mouth shut about this news, as you knew that they would go crazy, won't leave your side for a moment to be a helping hand. For having and pressing that kind of attention, you should get prepared before. You need to accept the situation, first.

Six-week pregnancy hits you hard. Not just the morning sicknesses, but also sore, swollen breast due to the change of the shape. Yes, they look bigger than ever and you like how they filled your oversized bra, but the light pain made you uncomfortable. You try to massage them on the shower with your shower gel to ease the ache and constantly refused the help of Yoongi. He offered you to help with the massage thing, which you only sighed and shake your head in disbelief.

Side of this, you start to pee for like a thousand times a day. Day or night didn't matter, and you always find yourself sleeping on the toilet, waking up to a new need to pee. It was frustrating, annoying, and blood boiling.

You push the flush once again, adjusting your clothes before heading to the work. Before passing your sneakers to your feet, you take a glance at your long-forgotten heels. Pointy, tight shoes only manage to cause you more burden on these days, so you decide to stay away from them. Who would like to have sore feet while dealing with pregnancy? Not you.

''Give me a break...'' you turn the wheel, heading to another parking lot as some jerk decides to put his car to your spot. There is plenty of parking lot, but this one was the closest to the elevator and you didn't want to park another place to walk all the way down here again. Because of your unstable emotions, you feel too tired lately, worn out, and wanted to cry easily.

Your hold tightened around the wheel, head slowly falls on it after parking your car. You try to breathe, but it's useless. Everything feels too much, eyes tearing up, while defeat sits on your shoulders. Too much failure. Too much loneliness. Too much agony crept towards you, to your chest. All these days, you acted like there was nothing wrong with you. Like you weren't dying inside, like happy to be pregnant. Or, happy to be dumped.

Long story short, you weren't. You were waking up to vomit on your throat, ache on your chest, and the first thing you see was your dirty toilet before heading to work. A cramp grows in your chest, won't letting you breathe that you need desperately. Hiccups fall by your lips one by one, just like the tears on your face. Does it have to feel like this? Does it have to hurt like this, you didn't know.

So many people want to make you happy, who will be your side from the start to end, but somehow this feeling of loneliness won't leave your mind, your heart. You want only one of them on your side, even though you don't accept to be pregnant. But the only person you want on your side, wouldn't be your side.

You reach to your purse, take a napkin to adjust your face. The business won't work itself, as your boss always says. People need games to play. Most likely, rich people.

Elevator doors open with an irritating voice, too old to continue working you think. Before you take a step, you hear your name right beside you, causing you to startle. ''Did you made breakfast? If not, join me.'' the man in nothing but sweatpants and a simple shirt, greats you at the door with a big grin. He wishes you won't find a lame excuse to refuse him.

''Ohh, Damian... you scared me!'' hand placed above your chest, you seized the man. One of his hand in his pocket, mug on the other one. The suiting scent of the coffee fills your nostrils. ''Well, I don't have an appetite for breakfast,'' while you press your lips together, his grin widens on his face, almost covering it completely.

''Coffee then,'' he turns on his shoes, not letting you say anything before heading to the small kitchen in the office. You sigh, but feeling too tired to turn him down and to deal with his insists. ''Actually, I would like to have a tea instead,'' he turns, eyes widened with your sudden request. Both because you really did follow him, and choose tea over coffee. The brown-haired man knew you more than three years now, and he knew you well enough that you would always choose coffee over tea.

''That's also good,'' he doesn't want to waste his chance by asking you too much question, so he just smiles. He refreshes his coffee, while you take a sip from your tea. Smooth peach fills in your breath, warms your stomach, nose wrinkles with the warm feeling. ''Thank you,'' you hold your mug up, bowing your head slightly with a smile.

''Aish... I want to kick his head and his ass. Why he has to be a jerk like this!'' right before the man who stands on the kitchen talks again, his mouth shuts as the voice of long heels, and whinings fill the room. You great the woman with long black hair with your head, while she takes her place on the other side of the table. ''Who thinks he is? I know he is the head of the creative department, but ughhh-- he just annoys me,'' you press your laugh, while the girl covers her face with her freshly manicured hands.

You exchange looks with Damian, he doesn't hide his smile while playing the hair on his neck. ''Don't you think he is annoying? Y/N?'' hand on your wrist disconnects your stare, and you turn to see round pair of eyes, burning with rage. You found this oddly amusing and also too familiar.

''Stop pushing Y/N to talk bad about her friend Nara,'' Damian finishes his drink after scolding Nara with an irony. You let your smile out, feeling better after burying your anger and fears to the back of your mind. In fact, you were too busy to think about your low life at this office. ''Fun fact, he is also my boss,'' you narrow your eyes, pointing your forefinger at his face, ''not just yours,''

He looks at your finger, then behind you and Nara before speaking. ''Speak of the devil,'' he jokes, waving his hand. You both turn your backs to meet the man you gossip about, Nara lets out a loud groan, hands covering her face once again.

''I didn't know that I was paying you to chat all day,'' the man in a cream suit leans on the kitchen bench, raising his brow. ''Well, you don't pay us exactly,'' you raise your brow, imitating him but fail to hide your mischief on your tone.

''If so, don't come at me asking for a raise,'' Nara rolls her eyes after hearing his annoying voice. She really finds his voice annoying. Irritating, and mostly his voice always drives her crazy.

''Joon, you wouldn't do that. Not to your best worker,'' you pout, but both Damian and Nara protest what you said. They find your high confidence ridiculous and presents their objections. But the head of the creative department can't handle the mess and raise his voice to gather the attention on him. ''Okay, okay, okay. There is no raise near soon, so save this fight for another meeting, alright?''

He holds his hand up, regretting to open the topic of the raise. Both you and Damian let a light chuckle, while Nara rolling her eyes at him. Namjoon sends a cringy wink to her before leaving the kitchen, causing Nara to make vomiting sounds.

Bitter liquid finds its way up to your throat, so you choose to run from there, following Namjoon. Avoiding the numbness on your throat for not to humiliate yourself on the work by vomiting and then explaining why you were vomiting all around the floor. Aish... you would never want to experience that.

''Don't you have an appointment with--'' between in your overthinking, you cut his words with a loud whine. You close the door behind you and face him. The so-called boss looks at you with round eyes, mouth parted slightly due to your sudden reproach. ''Did I say something wrong?''

''No... of course not Joonie,'' you give a little break, scratching your neck in embarrassment. Not that he said something wrong, but more likely what he was going to say would only cause more gossiping and a big fuss that you couldn't handle in this exact moment. You take a seat in front of his desk, rubbing your palms on your thighs. ''I just... don't-- not ready for everyone to hear, you know?''

Namjoon's heart aches for a second, seeing you ill at ease and weary makes him upset. He wasn't that oblivious to not recognize how tired you look with the dark bags under your eyes, cursory makeup you do to look more lively, hiding how you feel actually. He just wants to take you from this nightmare you live, but he is too powerless to do so.

''Sorry Y/N... I'll try to be more careful,'' you smile at him, waving your hand like it's not a big deal, but he knows. ''But, you do have an appointment, right?''

''Yes, I have,'' you pause to take a sip from a bottle of water he has on his desk. Out of the blue, you feel dehydrated. ''That's why I barge in here. I need to leave a little bit early today... You know what for,'' Namjoon sized you up with a fond smile on his lips, and you knew that he was up to something, probably going to say something to boil your blood.

''You came here to ask permission, as I'm your boss, huh?'' opposing to his cocky, annoying expression, you could feel your jaw clenching while eyes twitching. Everyone thought having a friend who is your boss would have benefit for you but in reality, it was annoying. He continuously bragging about this, even after your shifts, while having a joyful meal. ''Joon, I swear that I will sue you for sexual harassment,'' you glare at him, but he lets a scoff.

''As they would believe you,'' his finger goes between you and himself, forehead creased. ''I'm sorry but obviously, you are not my type,'' you literally growl after his statement, rubbing your face with your palms. What a frustrating human being...

''I'm leaving,'' you get up between his laughs and attempts to make you stay longer, but you shut the door behind. While sighing and heading to your desk, you feel sorry for Nara. That woman tries not to kill him and tries not to lose her mind because of all his bullshits. You send all of your blessings to her. For hers and Namjoon's sakes.

''Tell Jimin that if he won't hand me the research I assigned him until the end of this week, I swear the god I'll fire his pre-nurse ass--'' when you enter the room after knocking, two pair of rounded eyes lands on you. You eye them with wide eyes, not expecting to hear these words from your Doctor. ''I'm sorry... I knocked on the door but--''

''Y/N! I was waiting for you-- come in,'' despite his red face and visible veins on his neck, his tone comes out sweet like the first appointment you had with him. You give a faint smile in return with a little head bow, closing the door behind you. ''I just need a minute, okay?'' you nod.

Standing under the white light, eyes focused on your shoes. You should have stopped chewing your lips when you feel nervous, but you never manage it. You liked Doctor Kim, but being in this room will always make you nervous and tense. Being here made your nerves go crazy, pain on the chest and the reality of your situation would always hit you hard in here. Realizing the truth, the truth of being in an unwanted pregnancy haunts you every time you find yourself in here. It's only the second appointment you had, and you shouldn't feel this worn out by this, but you know that every time, every appointment will feel like this. Stressed, vulnerable, and trapped.

You were too caught up with your own thoughts that you could only hear someone was calling your name after a couple of minutes. ''--Pardon me for keeping you wait, but I had to deal with these papers. So, how are we feeling?'' Doctor Kim's familiar gentle smile stands on his lips while addressing you, hands clenched each other on his desk. You open your mouth to say something. Mostly lying about how good you were, how everything was so great, but the pair of eyes catch your attention.

Wide eyes staring you in shock and curiosity, lips turn into a pout, slightly parted. Soft brown hair stands on his head, matches with his brown orbs. Very familiar glows he got in his eyes, you think. Very familia--

''Oh let me introduce you to Hoseok,'' Doctor gets up, holding his hand up, pointing the man who confuses your mind. ''This is our greatest nurse, Jung Hoseok--''

''We should stop meeting like this,'' the nurse holds his hand up, waiting for you to do the same, but he surprised you with his absurdity. You would remember if you met a man like him. Men who smile like the sweetest peach. The smile that warms your stomach for no reason and the uncertainty made you uncomfortable. The same irritations you feel when you met with the clingy stranger. The day you learn--oh no... ''You always look the same. With the same dead eyes, I guess,''

''How--why? You?'' you feel the heat crawling on your neck, bottom lip shaking with the need to say something, but you only be able to sigh.

You did watch a lot of movies. Both stupid and semi-stupid. Coincidences, serendipities, and all the unexpected meetings you didn't believe. You watched it all, and you gain mature enough not to fall for those stupid movies. Not letting yourself keeping your hopes high, but if you would do it if you keep your hopes high, you wouldn't want to waste those cute coincidences with these two strangers. But as your eyes go between Doctor Kim and the nurse named Hoseok, you could tell that you waste all of your luck.

Not that you believe though.

Hoseok feels his heart race quicken, even though he tries to hold himself being obvious, he can't control the shake on his hand. To his luck, you are too caught up with your thoughts to realize it. You were too caught up with the thought of turning your back and run to take fresh air, but that would be so extra. Even for you, so you just stay there.

When you finally hold his hand to shake it, he gives a relieved sigh. And you don't know why his hand feels so soft and warm. Hoseok's let out a little 'oh' sounds when you take your hand from his grip, pout stands on his lip with the wide eyes because of your sudden move. But you didn't want him to take his hand from your grip, so that's mean you should take it. There is no way that you will stand in there, holding hands with an odd stranger. No way.

''Did you drink the amount of water I ask, Y/N?'' thanks to your doctor, the most awkward moment you had with the complete stranger eases in time. You nod before he explains why he asked for you to drink water. Things that he explained before, but you were too distracted with pitying yourself and having zero clues about this. ''--we need this in case of any abnormalities on the placenta, checking the cervix for any kind of change...'' you just lost in his words, the unknown words you can't understand babbling in your ears, but your blood run colds when you heard the only familiar word. ''--and the best part, you could hear the heartbeat of the baby. You'd want this, don't you?'' contrary to his smile, you stare him blank.

You stand there bewildered. Heart pumping the blood faster, cold enough to freeze your fingertips, and the weight on your chest send tears to your eyes. You did not come here for this. You did not.

Hoseok's eyes wander between you and his friend. He feels anxious about the way you look. The way you bug-eyed looking Jin, chest moving up and down the way he never sees before, and he thinks it's going to explode. The tight and wobbly voice that comes from you even worries him more. ''I--I didn't... Do--do I have to do... that?''

You don't know how desperate or pathetic you sound, you didn't care. The only thing you know is that you weren't ready for this. Don't want to do this. The doctor sees the tears, but stays and sounds calm. ''Of course, you don't have to. But I believe it would be better to listen, both for you and the baby.'' his modulated voice ease your heart just a little bit, but you can't understand how this affects you better? Or the baby. ''You can think about this while changing your clothes, okay?''

You nod. Too worn out to speak, to find your voice.

While you drowning in the thoughts of whether you should do it or not, having a mini-crisis inside of your mind, with the knock at the door you flinch. A frown takes its place on your face, and you open the door after adjusting the gown you just wear. Brooding chocolates immediately find yours, size you up with the same pout on his lips.

Unintentionally, you look down before closing the door partly. Being partly naked in front of him made you uncomfortable, even though he is a nurse. ''Hey,'' he waves his hand in small, tries to smile but it fades because of your deadpan look. You are not in the mood for unwanted conversations. ''I just wanted to... wanted to check on you and ask if you want me to--'' his voice goes so quiet that you couldn't hear what he says in the end. Seeing how he blushes, you understand that he says something you would refuse.

''You wanted to ask?'' you extend your head, raise a brow to make him repeat.

''--stay with you,''

''What?''

''Would you want me to stay with you while listening to the heartbeats of your baby?'' he said in a small panicky voice, eyes searching your face to get ready to hear your reply.

You stay dumbfounded. It is something stupid, even sounds stupid. You would refuse this. Refuse this immediately. Without thinking about it. Before your heart warms and the hammering on your chest eases. But you open your lips to ask the question you shouldn't ask. ''Is it okay for you to do it?''

''Well, I'm a nurse... and if you want this?'' Hoseok wasn't expecting this. He wasn't expecting you to agree on this, wasn't expecting to see the way your eyes glow. The very professional nurse wasn't expecting his heart to melt with the way your eyes blink before replying to him. But it does.

''Then, I want you to stay. With me,''

You had no idea why you agree with him on this. You had no idea how to feel when you open your legs to Doctor Kim, right before you hear the heartbeats. ''You will feel a little pressure, just stay relax,'' the soothing tone of your doctor returns, and just like he said, you feel the uncomfortable pressure inside. When you clench nailing your palms, squeezing your eyes shut, a hand wraps around yours.

Normally you would flinch with the sudden touch, or feel uneasy. But the way he holds your hand soothes you, the way his light squeezes on your hand makes everything a little bit better. These were unusual things to feel, probably hormones made you feel like this, but you feel grateful to him for staying on your side.

The way you think 'not him again' when you saw him again, now left its place to gratitude for you.

''Okay, I think we are ready to hear the heartbeats, huh?'' when your eyes met with Doctor Kim's, you forget how to breathe. Breath stuck on your lungs, your stare stuck on his, and you stuck on the white stretcher. You feel overwhelmed after hearing the intense mechanical beats. You didn't know what to do, how to act after hearing the heartbeats. Agony crept towards your chest, the ache is physical to feel when you covered your chest with your palm. You feel doomed. Vulnerable. Broken.

Trying to swallow the bitter taste on your lips only made it worse, tears shimmered in your eyes. This was all real. You were pregnant, dumped, and all alone. Everything was happening and you weren't dreaming at all. You never wanted to cry out loud this much, to scream until your throat goes sore and maybe you would faint due to the tiredness. Maybe you would shut your eyes, and never open them again. You wanted to get rid of this ache.

''It's okay. It's going to be okay,'' Hoseok couldn't help himself from patting your arm, trying to ease your mind. Seeing the tears on your face, the way you squeeze his hand when the beats filled in the room, devastated him. Yes, he only saw you three times, but you never looked this bad. This injured.

''Y/N, are you okay? Can you talk?'' even though you want to reply to him with words, it looked impossible to make a sound. You nod, trying to tell your doctor that you were okay, despite its a lie. ''Would you want to stay alone for a moment?''

You didn't know if you nod again, or made a 'hmph', but both of them left the room and leave you alone with your gloomy thoughts. Not that you know what to think, how to feel, or how to act. Why can't someone decides this for you? Why it has to be you? You didn't ask for this. You never wanted this. This... baby. You never felt this alone in your life. Down in the dumps.

Trying to move was hard, due to the heaviness of your body, your mind. Numbness takes over both your mind and your body, as you try to change your clothes. Lifeless movement only occurs as a handicap on your way to the door, plus, you weren't ready to see anyone. But to your dismay, there was only Doctor Kim, sitting on his desk and writing. Probably for you.

''Ah. Are you feeling better?'' he wondered, lifting his head from his computer. Eyes of him examining your actions, your face to catch your true feelings while you gave him a faint smile. You answer him before wiping your forehead. All the stress made you sweaty. ''Oh, I'm. I'm okay, thank you,''

He smiles, points his front, invites you to sit. And you do as he says, taking your place while wondering where Hoseok went from the back of your mind. It was the best not to see him after your little breakdown, but still, it didn't stop you from wondering. ''There is nothing wrong. Baby and you look good, there is nothing to worry about,'' he gave a half-smile before continuing, ''but... Let me ask this Y/N, even though it sounds like I'm crossing the line. Would you think about seeing a psychologist? It's okay to have breakdowns and having troubles as a pregnant woman, and it's not something to abstain about.''

''I'm not trying to make you feel uncomfortable, but as your doctor, I'm offering you this. This is our second appointment and you had troubles within both of them. It can be helpful for you, and the baby.''

Keeping eye contact was something hard for you to adjust, so you just stare at your fingers, play with them. Although you know he was right and trying to be helpful, you offended. You can't help but feel disparaged. Feel stupid. Being this obvious about your situation was your fault, crying and looking like a wreck. ''I'll think about... it,'' you sniffled, wiping your nose before meeting with his gaze.

''That's great. You don't have to do it, but if you do, that would be great for you Y/N,'' he said with a quiet empathy, smiling fondly to reassure you. And it wasn't all act. The blonde doctor sincerely wanted to be sure of your health. Both physically and mentally.

Then, he gave you a paper filled with what you should do incase of fatigues and constipation, side with the essential tests you should do, and the multivitamins you should take. And you left his room after saying a pale goodbye. Probably he was pitying you, but you can't do anything about that, don't you? Well, there is always a choice where you don't cry like a baby every time you came here, but that already wiped from the list, you sighed.

Exhaustion fills your muscles, your bones after finishing all the tests and check-ups. They were advising you not to go hard on yourself, even though they wear you out with all of these works. Not to be dramatic but you were the last one in this hospital, without counting the doctors and all. With droopy movements of your feet, you head to the exit, imagining your comfy bed, and the midnight snacks you will burry your face. Ahh, you could feel your heart getting warm with the thought of your bed.

One-step, and you are out, leaving this place, and the heartbeats of the baby behind. Before terrifying misery stuck to your chest, you flinch by the touch on your shoulder. ''Oh, shit! It--It's me,'' you watch the man in dark clothes holding his head, grumbling with a pout on his lips.

''Ah.. I'm sorry, but why are sneaking me from behind?'' you try to lean on him to give a good look on his head, but he steps back.

''Did you have to hit me?'' he sighs, rubbing his head while still pouting. ''Gee... you got heavy hands, don't you?'' you try your best not to laugh at the sight, but he was forcing your limits while whining like a crybaby, all pouty and still rubbing his head. ''I'm--... sorry,''

''Aish... and you laughing?'' you pressed your lips together to hold your laughter behind, but you failed after seeing his smile. ''I'm smiling because of my rage, don't dare to think that I forgive you,''

''C'mon, I didn't hit you that hard,'' his eyes went round, scanning you from head to toe, hand on his chest in disbelief. ''and now you making a big deal of it.''

He lets out a gasp as he caught off guard. ''I could have brain damage,'' he mocked, taking his hand from his chest.

You both stare at each other, without saying another word. You didn't know what to say, and he didn't know how to ask the question he wanted to. Hoseok glanced up to the ceiling, swallowing his words with loud gulps while you chewing your lip, and staring your shoes. In three minutes of silence, you couldn't understand the heat that was placed on your cheeks, as well as the quivering in your chest. It just made you uncomfortable, and you start to move on your feet.

''I think I should--''

''Can I ride you home--''

Both of you choke in your words, staring at each other with wide eyes, and two pairs of red cheeks. You should say no, and head to your car and never look back, as this better for you. But part of you just want to accept his offer, and let him drive you home. ''I came here with my car,'' you told, but wishing him to find a decent excuse to drive you home.

''Oh. It's okay then. We will see each other again,'' he cocks his head to the side, ''right?'' Hoseok didn't mind looking desperate if he doesn't look like some pervert, it was okay to look desperate. He wanted to talk to you, know you better, and maybe help you...? He didn't know what would you say, but couldn't help but want to spend more time with you.

''Yes. I mean, I'll come here often, so...'' you won't except but you disappointed when he agrees not to drive you that easily. Even though, this was the sensible thing to do. He waved his hand before turning his back and leave you alone, reminding you to take care while walking away.

You waved back, saying 'goodbye' while forcing a smile. When he disappears, you hit your head for acting like some dumbass. Why did you want him to take you home? Who was he to drive you? Were you always this idiot when it's come to a handsome man?

Handsome?

No. This was all hormones talking and thinking. It couldn't be you. You didn't find him handsome. Or cute. No.

Now you are going to your car, and drive it to your house. To your bed and snacks. The bed where you sleep alone, and eating your depression snacks. Yes, sounds like a good plan.

#heartsforbts #bangtanhq #bangtanarmynet #houseofddaeng #btsgoldnet #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #hyunglinenetwork #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok fanfic #hoseok fluff #hoseok angst #jung hoseok #painkiller #dylanxmin

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teamhook · 5 years ago

Photo

|AO3|

|FFN|

I want to thank @captainswanmoviemarathon and Discord. My co-writer @revanmeetra87

I want to also thank @ultraluckycatnd for Beta-ing thiis thing for us.

Thursday

Jefferson's broken leg was on a sling. His arm was in a cast. He wasn't in the best condition but he knew if he didn't get Killian back home he would be worse off. He would disappear. The TV kept reminding him that he needed to get out of the hospital ASAP. There were reports the elevators had either stopped working completely or malfunctioning. He had firsthand experience that is why he is in a hospital bed and not at home preparing his Nobel Prize speech. He had tried to charm the nurse to let him leave the hospital but failed miserably. Nurse Ratched told him he had to be released by Doctor Hyde. Jefferson didn't realize that she had come in to check on him earlier and overheard his entire conversation with Emma. She was concerned that he was crazy and suicidal.

Emma was getting ready for her day at work. The sudden ring of the fire alarm startled her. She could hear her neighbors yelling and Cat's frantic barks. She decided to check it out.

Killian had attempted to make breakfast and chaos had erupted, the fire alarm blared, smoke filled the apartment. Cat's barking got louder. As Emma entered she yelled, "Cat shut up!" She turned off the alarm, and opened the window to air out the apartment.

Killian glared. "That thing is a bloody hazard."

"It's just a toaster!" She glared back at Killian.

"That thing does not produce toast! One insertion only produces warm bread and two insertions produce charcoal!" he yelled.

Emma rolled her eyes, this man was a drama queen. "It's just a toaster." She repeats annoyedly.

Killian was pacing back and forth ranting, "You would think that when the General of Electric built the bloody thing he would test it, for him to take pride in his creations instead of just foisting them on the public without warning!"

"You know what, no one cares if they have to insert the toast twice. You know why? Because we all insert it twice!"

He took a step forward, he looked like a hunter going after its prey. He didn't stop until they were toe to toe. "Not where I come from!"

For a second Emma felt a rush, then she squared her shoulders. "Oh no, of course not because where you come from, toast is the result of reflection and study."

"Aye, you mock me, but perhaps one day, when you're awoken from a pleasurable slumber to the scent of a warm brioche smothered in marmalade and fresh creamery butter you'll understand that life is not solely comprised of tasks, but tastes."

Emma's smile widened. "Say that again."

Killian was baffled at her sudden change in demeanor. "Pardon me?"

"Nevermind, you'll be perfect." She looked him up and down. "Good, you're dressed. Come on, you're coming with me."

Killian followed her without question.

Emma and Killian arrived at her work, but not without some stares directed at Killian's wardrobe.

Emma had called Mary Margaret to meet them at the door. Just as requested, Mary Margaret was waiting for them. She greeted them as soon as they walked inside. "Emma, we've been waiting for you. We had-" She looked at the list, "five read so far-"

Emma shook her head. "Mary Margaret, meet Killian. Please take him to the greenroom; I want him to read." Mary Margaret smiled at Killian and nodded.

"Killian, this is Mary Margaret. Go with her and she will explain everything."

Killian and Mary Margaret disappeared down the hall.

Emma walked to the control room. Her boss was chatting up the client, so she went over to the monitors. There were women smiling and batting their lashes as they gazed into the screen with Killian on it.

The client, Mr. Spencer, was frustrated and finally said, "Walsh, I don't have time for this."

Emma responded, "Mr. Spencer, let's look at this last one."

Walsh Oz shakes his head. "Emma, the client said he wants to stop."

"Walsh, trust me, this is the one," Emma said with confidence.

"What is he wearing?" Walsh scrunched up his nose. "He looks like the Quaker Oats guy."

"Well, it doesn't really matter what you think. What really matters is what the ladies think. They love him. To them he is a dream. He's honest, courteous, handsome; a true gentleman. He stands up when you walk in a room. He brings you brioche in bed. If you eat his margarine, maybe your hips will shrink."

In the greenroom, Killian fidgeted under the scrutiny of the director's eyes.

"Mr. Duke, do you see that mark on the floor?"

Killian nodded.

"You need to stand on that tape line," the director said. "Okay, everyone quiet! And action!"

Killian stayed quiet with the rest of the room.

The director stared at him and rolled his eyes. "Mr. Duke, this is the part when you start talking."

Killian turned his gaze to the monitor and with a raised eyebrow, his blue eyes twinkled under the light. "Fresh creamery butter. Is there anything more comforting? I say there is. You'll agree once you sample fat-free Farmer's Bounty with the genuine essence of creamery butter in every bite. You shall receive butter's splendid flavour in your mouth without adding to the luxury of your waistline."

Mr. Spencer laughed boisterously. "Where do I sign?"

Walsh leaned in to whisper in Emma's ear. "Where did you find him?"

Emma took a step away. "Oh, he lives in my building."

Killian waited patiently by the door while Emma gave Mary Margaret some last minute instructions.

Walsh Oz walked out of the stairwell. He smirked as he noticed Emma was still in the building. "What's the deal with the elevators?" he asked no one in particular. He slowly approached her from behind, and smelled her hair. She stiffened. "Emma, we have so much to discuss over dinner tonight."

Oh yeah, Emma though. I'd forgotten about that. She tried to smile. "Yes, we do. I look forward to it."

Killian's jaw clenched at the display of power abuse and the obvious discomfort it caused Emma. Walsh grinned as Emma walked up to Killian so they could leave. "Nice job, Mr. Margarine," Walsh said as the glass doors closed behind them.

Once they're outside, Emma turned to Killian with a bright smile. She started dancing.

Amused, Killian smiled. "You look pleased."

"Killian, you did an amazing job in there! You are going to be famous!"

Killian simply smiled. "I take it you're dining with that man this evening?"

Emma's smile disappeared. "Yes, he's my boss, Walsh."

"Do you require a chaperone? His intentions are obvious," Killian asked.

"I'm alone with you, do I need a chaperone?" Emma rolled her eyes.

"Emma, we're not courting but if we were, as a man of honor, I would inform you of my intentions in writing."

"I don't need saving. No one saves me but me. Don't worry about it," Emma said, slightly annoyed.

Emma walked in front of him. Killian could tell she was miffed at him, so he kept a small distance from her. A horse carriage caught his eye. He patted the horse and turned to Emma. "How about we take one of these?"

She shook her head no. "Those are for tourists."

Killian smiled at the kind old man. "I'm sorry sir, she's not interested."

The man kindly grinned back. "No worries."

Emma raised her hand, and Killian watched her until one of the powered carriages - cars, he remembered - screeched to a halt at their side. It is bright yellow with some black trim, just like the one they used as transport earlier, but it appeared to have a different coachman.

"All right," Emma said as she opened the car door, "We're probably going to need a bank account number and possibly a birth certificate from you before we start filming. Legality and all. So if you could just drop the 'back in time' act for a few minutes and track them down for m-"

From behind them, a man in a billed cap darted forward and jerked Emma's reticule from her hands, then rushed across the street.

"Hey!" Emma shouted, enraged. "That's my purse!"

Emma took flight after the scumbag thief. "Hey asshole! That's my bag! I'm gonna get you, you ass!" She chased after him while wearing the most uncomfortable shoes. He was fast, but she was not about to give up.

She stopped for a brief second to catch her breath. She doesn't want to lose him and was about to restart her chase once more when she heard galloping hooves which confused her. She then heard her name being called out. That's when she noticed him. It was Killian riding a horse and he was fast approaching her.

"Emma, give me your hand," Killian instructed once he reached her.

She gave him her hand and he easily pulled her on the horse as they broke into full gallop in pursuit of the thief.

Emma held on to Killian tight as he maneuvered the animal. The chase didn't last long. They cornered the lowlife rapidly. "I warn you, scoundrel. You stand no chance. When you run, I shall ride and when you stop, the steel of this strap will be lodged in your brain."

The thief had nowhere to run so he just threw the purse on the ground and took flight. A sudden onslaught of cheering and applause erupted from their previously unknown audience. Killian unmounted to retrieve the purse. Emma simply stared at him as she tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.

Soon enough, they find themselves back at the corner where the chase began. Killian hooked the horse back up to the carriage as the older man smiled at Emma. "Your boyfriend is a great rider."

Emma smiled. "Yes, he is."

On the ride home, they sat quietly in the carriage.

"Are you for real?" Emma asked.

"Pardon?" Killian responded with a raised brow.

"You're a Duke?" Emma asked.

"I was born a Duke, but I never felt like one," Killian smiled.

Back at the apartment, Emma was getting ready for her dinner with Walsh. She noticed the interactions between Cat and Killian.

Cat was eagerly waiting for her next command from Killian with a wagging tail.

"Stay...Sit. On your feet… Stay… Stay… Good girl," Killian said with a triumphant smile.

Emma can't help as her eyes drifted to Killian. He was a good looking man after all and she wasn't blind. He was distracting, but she had to focus. Dinner equals promotion.

"What are you guys doing tonight?" Emma asked.

David's attention was glued to the game on TV and he mumbled under his breath, "we might meet up with some of my friends."

"Alright, I'm off to dinner then," Emma said.

"Emma, please reconsider my offer to chaperone," Killian begged.

Emma rolled her eyes. "I can take care of myself."

"David, don't you think it's inappropriate-" Killian asked as he helped Emma put on her coat.

"As her brother, I would think my sister would invite me to an audition," David said, outraged.

Emma sighed. "David, you're not exactly margarine material. I'm sorry."

"What!? I can't sell butter? Emma, I'm a great actor. I can sell butter! It's insulting that my own sister has no faith in me."

"Yes, David you are an amazing actor but-"

"Is it the accent? I can do British, Emma. Hell I can be anyone." David continued ranting as Emma turned to Killian. "Good night." She opened the door and lingered for a second before walking away.

Killian gazed after her with a small smile.

Emma and Walsh are seated and he ordered some drinks for them.

After the waiter left, his attention turned to her. "Emma, I have to admit I was nervous for you. When your friend walked in wearing that outfit, saying 'if you eat this margarine your hips will shrink'," Walsh laughed.

Emma smiled. "I was just doing my job."

"He is going to be bigger than Mr. Whipple. You're not sleeping with him are you?" he asked.

"No." She shook her head, yet at the tip of her tongue was a comment about it not being his business. Sometimes she had to remind herself to play nice.

Killian and David decided to go out and meet some friends. "Hey guys, this is Killian," David announced.

Killian smiled as he greeted everyone.

His companions were enthralled by his voice as Killian made a comment about how the best things in life are hidden in the basement of the Louvre.

David excused himself to go to the bar and get drinks where he bumped into a dressed up Mary Margaret out for a girls night out.

Killian noticed the interaction and David's obvious attempt at flirting. so he excused himself to get a closer look. Before he could get closer, though, the connection had been cut short and they returned to their respective parties. Killian stopped Mary Margaret to greet her as David caught their exchange on his way back to the table with the drinks.

Before anyone was aware of it, the evening came to its inevitable end. Killian and David were walking home and David stopped walking. Killian turned to him to see what the problem was as David started talking in a mocking voice...

"Please, allow me to assist you, Abigail."

"Oh, please, allow me to light that for you, Merida."

"What's this? Ah, this is my family crest. It has been in the family for generations."

"What do they have in the basement of the Louvre? The works of Da Vinci, Michelangelo, Chardin, David all surrounded by great coral sponges to absorb the moisture."

Killian was confused by his friend's behavior.

"Not all women are going to swoon over your-" David pointed up and down Killian's form.

Killian studied his friend, trying to understand David's point.

"I was going to get her number but-"

"I believe this is her number," Killian said as he handed his friend the paper. "Mary Margaret has no inkling of your affections. You are a Merry Andrew. Women respond to sincerity. This requires pulling one's tongue from one's cheek. No one wants to be romanced by a baboon. Here's her number and give her a call tomorrow. It's late now and Emma should be home by now."

"Wait, you like her." Realization dawned on David's face. "You really like my sister!"

"David, that's nonsense. You're intoxicated," Killian said as he scratched behind his ear.

"Now who's the Merry-Andrew? You know, Emma is having dinner not long from here. We should go and you can show me the proper way to make a move."

Killian sighed. "Not a move David, an overture. Make your intentions known. Think of pleasing her, not vexing her."

"Fine, no vexing. Come on let's go." David smiled as he pulled Killian in the direction of the restaurant.

Emma cleared her throat. "I have to confess I'm a bit confused. When you mentioned dinner, I was under the impression that we were here to discuss business, a possible promotion even." She sighed. "Dinner is winding down and we have yet to discuss those things. We've talked about your love of La Boheme, and the lovely place you purchased in Sussex."

Walsh gave her his best attempt at a seductive smile. "I don't believe I've ever seen you this flustered Emma, and you haven't even kissed me yet."

Emma fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Right. I like you, Walsh, I do. But I think you would agree that a working relationship- a successful working relationship, requires-"

"Hello, Emma!" David's cheery voice interrupted. "We found you."

Jumping in her seat, Emma turned to see her brother suddenly hovering beside the table. "David?" she asked in disbelief.

"We wanted to say hi," David explained, then proceeded to introduce himself to her boss.

"We?" Emma thought, before realizing Killian was standing at her side.

"Emma," he said in a low, earnest voice as his eyes searched hers. "May I speak to you in private?"

Her mouth fell open. "Seriously? No!"

But Walsh was already inviting the two to pull up seats and join them.

"Where, exactly, did you say it is?" Killian asked Walsh with a cocked eyebrow.

"Sussex, near Ballmour," Walsh said with offhanded superiority.

"Built in the 18th century?" Killian reiterated Walsh's earlier words.

"Early 18th century," Walsh emphasized, with a look at Emma. Killian could almost see the man puffing out his chest with pride. "I have pictures to prove it."

"Well," Killian said, thinking of the empty, rolling green and scattered trees of the area as he knew it. "I do believe you were swindled. I can assure you, as of the late 19th century, there is nothing in the area but farmland."

"You're mistaken," Walsh said immediately. "That's not possible."

Emma quickly jumped in. "He's right; you may be mistaken, Killian!" she hissed. "You don't know-"

Irritation rising due to the fact she was defending the cretin who was so obviously looking to take advantage of her, Killian snapped back. "I was raised there, I do know."

Clearing his throat to break up the discussion, Walsh changed the subject. "Killian, do you enjoy opera?"

Still stinging from Emma's words, Killian plastered a smile on his face. "Oh, indeed. Do you have a favorite?"

Raising his eyes to the ceiling, as if thinking deeply, Walsh finally said, "Boheme. La Boheme. I've seen it 12 times. That's...that is how I learned to speak French."

From the corner of his eye, Killian could see Emma's eyes widen with surprise. Clearly she was impressed, or pretending to be.

Now the irritation grew to ire, and Killian could feel it gnawing at him. He knew he should just let it go, but suddenly he heard himself making a statement in French.

Emma looked to Walsh. "What did he say?"

As Killian had expected, Walsh was sitting there dumbstruck, only managing to croak out a small scoffing noise.

Killian translated the phrase, explaining it was the opening words to Boheme - a duet.

Still slightly stunned, Walsh managed to jump back in and tell the table that Andre sang it to Mimi.

Unable to believe what he was hearing, Killian laughed softly. "Andre?"

Now recovering, Walsh lifted his head. "Yes, I invited Emma to the Met to see it. But she turned me down! Can you believe that, Killian?"

Voice tight, Killian said, "True, it should not be missed by anyone. But perhaps Emma resists on moral grounds."

Emma groaned softly, lowering her head into her hands.

Walsh narrowed his eyes. "How so?"

"Let's get the check!" Emma said hastily, but nobody answered her.

"Well," Killian said, staring at Walsh challengingly, "some feel that to court a woman in one's employ is nothing but a serpentine effort to make a lady fall from grace."

Silence fell over the table, though David was trying to hide his grin.

Finally, Walsh said stiffly, "This guy is charming, Emma. The Duke of Margarine thinks I'm a serpent."

"No, not a serpent," Killian corrected. "Merely a braggart and cad, who knows less French than I, if that is possible." Pushing back his seat, Killian rose and collected his jacket. "And by the way, there is no Andre in Boheme. It's Rodolfo. And though it takes place in France, it is rarely played in French as it is written in Italian. Good night."

Knowing he had made himself a fool, and facing the possibility that Emma would never speak to him again, Killian still turned on his heel and stalked out of the restaurant.

Back at the apartment, Killian and David waited for Emma's return. At the click of the door's lock unlocking, Killian rushed to the door.

Emma opened the door and breezed in, ignoring Killian's plea for a word.

Tag List:

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#Captain Swan #CSMM #cs ff #Captain Swan Movie Marathon #CSMM20

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dmintraining · 4 years ago

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im about to just gush about my halfling family with no coherency so youve been warned

ok so my whole dnd experience began with one lightfoot halfling level one bard called eoifira maplefoot. i knew i wanted her to be Not A Good Person, but also didn't feel comfortable playing a bitch when i didn't know anything about the other players in the party, so i did what any normal person would do: i encorperated pretending to be nice to get what she wants into her back story.

eoifira's backstory time! (where we get introduced to the character i will play this summer, llwella, and a character i am desperate to play at some stage, erling) middle child of turpin and grace maplefoot (grace's maiden name was proudfoot), eoifira was taught to entertain by her grandmother on her mother's side. her mother's family ran the only inn and bar on a small island, but when her father married her mother, his parents moved in too. so, under one house, we have the proudfoot grandparents : otto and mary, and the maplefoot grandparents : hildegard and basso. turpin and grace had three children together, their eldest daughter, llwella, is two years older than eoifira, and their youngest is their son, erling.

like i said, mary taught eoifira how to entertain, through story telling, playing the lute, and playing the spoons. the two performed regularly in the bar. llwella was never a people person, but people liked her well enough and she was a wizard behind the bar from a young age. erling played a bigger role in the running of the inn than the bar, as he was far more gentle than his eldest sister and much less self-centered than eoifira.

running the only inn and bar meant that these three kids met a wide variety of folks, and for eoifira, that turned out to be a huge problem. a 16 year old eoifira met a 29 year old halfling wanderer with a chip on her shoulder, and became fast friends with her. by the time she was 18, eoifira had been indoctrinated into this other halfling's way of life : she would regularly travel to the mainland to aid in the slaughter the nobles who were partially responsible for the poverty of her island. the duo did not limit their targets based on age, if they were of noble descent, they were fair game. initially, eoifira was merely the distraction, flirting with guards and playing the damsel in distress while her girlfriend actually did the killing, but over time eoifira's hands became just as bloody.

no one could prove it was them, but popular opinion was that the girlfriend was the perpetrator, and when a 19 year old eoifira announced to her mother that she wanted to propose, grace maplefoot panicked and locked her daughter in her room. eventually, eoifira's would-be-fiancé stopped showing up at the island, and grace felt safe enough letting eoifira go about her chores on the island. one day, eoifira asks her mother for help out in the fields, where she'd offered to harvest the crops for an elderly neighbour. naturally, her mother agreed, thinking she'd be able to reconnect with her daughter, and explain why she did what she did, and to apologise.

she never got the chance. eoifira slit her throat in the field, disguised herself as a cabin boy using the uniform of a boy she'd murdered that morning, and escaped on a ship to the mainland before anyone even really noticed grace wasn't working the desk of the inn as usual.

on the mainland, eoifira searched for her lover. she found a grave. her lover had been trialed, convicted, and executed for the murders. she had never mentioned an accomplice.

unable to return to her homeland, and with the person she'd carefully curated her personality for dead, eoifira was at a loss.

unTIL she runs into a travelling group in the woods of rouges and college of whispers bards who live as they please, taking what they want. eoifira made a slight adaptation to her personality, so that instead of killing for a Cause, she would kill with Purpose: to get food/gold/possessions the group needed or wanted. unfortunately, eoifira fell in love with one of the bards, and thought it would be safe to come clean to him about her past in its entirety.

he was repulsed. she made a dramatic change to her personality, now advocating for sparing peoples lives; she was now a pacifist. eventually, the man she was in love with came around to her, and they got engaged, and lobbied for the party to become more merciful. the party got sick of their bullshit, and sprung an attack on the couple, killing her fiancé stone dead right in front of her. standing at a whopping three feet with an armor class of 13 and very little training as a bard, eoifira knew she didn't stand a chance, so she fell to her knees and started begging, claiming her lover her threatened to kill her if she hadn't done what she did. they believed her, the idiots.

that night, she went around to their individual tents and slit their throats as they slept.

once again alone in the world, and now in her 40's, eoifira began her life on the run, never really staying in one town for too long, preforming in taverns in return for lodgings and food. there's more on her, but im going to take us back to the island, the day of the murder.

llwella actually discovers the body. she and her sister were close (or so she thought), so initially llwella thought that whatever had slaughtered her mother had gotten to eoifira too, and went into mourning with the rest of the family. then, the murder of the cabin boy came to light. with very little digging, llwella followed the blood trail eoifira had left behind before and during her time with the party, and by the end of her investigation, became certain her sister had murdered her mother. she never felt as peaceful as the rest of her family- she had a horrible temper and a tendency to drag out grudges for longer than was healthy, but this discovery ignighted a rage in her that did not subside when she lashed out like she normally would. she knew she needed to be more proactive about this anger, and eventually joined a monkhood : the way of mercy. they were helping her work on her anger by channeling her energy into her job, which initially was to kill the patients who were beyond saving (think nurse ratched type), but as she progressed, she became responsible for reinforcing quarantines by any means necessary. eventually, she hit a block. she'd managed to work through most of the sources of her anger and use the energy productively, but try as they might, her fury towards her sister was too strong- it came to a point where it was affecting her work with the monks. they told her she needed to find and forgive eoifira if she ever wanted to progress.

llwella left to find her sister alright, but with no intention of forgiving her. she was going to end her sister if it was the last thing she did.

she spent years trying to find her, staying in inns she knew eoifira had preformed in and following her faint yet distinct trail left from her performances and charisma.

unbeknownst to llwella, she actually caught up to eoifira.

one evening, eoifira was sitting in a dark corner of an inn she'd just finished preforming in, having a nightcap before turning in for the night, when her sister appears. she sees llwella check in for the night at the desk, before immediately heading up to bed. eoifira moves to the desk, and starts flirting non-stop with the receptionist, flustering them so much that she manages to see the bookings list without getting noticed. she knows what room her sister is in.

in the wee hours of the morning, eoifira sneaks into her sister's room and slits her throat, running away before making sure she'd bled out.

luckily for llwella, there was a cleric in the vicinity, who'd been up late with night terrors, and heard her helpless gargling as he made his way back to bed. he was young, and only half-trained, and while llwella survived, her wound tends to seep blood and pus when she exherts herself to expend a ki point, and her voice is low, gravely, and prone to breaking. she has not yet come that close to her sister again.

back to their hometown : after their mother passed and the family went into grieving, erling, while mourning just as much as the others, subtly kept both of the family businesses running. there was a brief period of time where his father and his grandparents began to take up the reins again, but the workload fell on him once again once it was discovered eoifira was not in fact, dead, but on the run after having killed many people, mary included. when llwella joined the way of mercy, erling became enamoured with the idea of healing people. he loved his sisters, despite now having severe mixed feelings about eoifira, but he wanted to heal, he wanted to help people plain and simple. he didn't want to kill for fun like eoifira, but he didn't want to kill for mercy like llwella, he wanted to heal. but he was stuck behind a till and a bar for several years, until the proudfoots, now well into the ends of their lives, decided to sell the bar. his father took full responsibility for the inn, and with all four grandparents helping out here and there, erling felt comfortable enough to go out and chase his dream. unable to afford medical school, he reluctantly reached out to the monks his eldest sister had joined. he was upfront about his hang-ups about their practices, but opened up about his quiet and private worship of one of the deities they worship, mishakal. they directed him to a local collection of life clerics who worshipped the same goddess, and he became very happy there with them, at ease.

im yet to decide what whips him out of his peaceful life with these clerics and into a life of adventuring, but im pretty sure it will have something to do with either llwella or eoifira dragging him out either directly or indirectly (i have a feeling llwella might go missing, and it might be up to her brother to find her (because while eoifira doesn't hate her sister, she has pretty much washed her hands of her family))

#chats #dnd #dnd character #dnd original character #maplefoots #eoifira #llwella #erling #halfling supremacy

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queerchoicesblog · 5 years ago

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(it’s curently in the works to make it legal ! Wooo !) when it’s taken care of (under our healthcare system) for heterosexuals couples. Back to your stories and your writing : I’m sorry to hear that you don’t get that much feedback on your stories. I’m not one to leave comments often as it is difficult to express oneself when all that come to mind is FZKZOJOAEZHDZUHFAOIASJ and heart eyes emojis. I also believe that people are more likely to write something to complain than to compliment,

Awww, thank you for offering your kind advice, French Nonny 💜

I appreciate that and I get it, switching back into the shoes of the reader. I experienced it myself in that role. I suppose writers are weirdos to some extent and we get all needy of affirmation from time to time. Also, writing is a solitary activity and it gets you at time: if something you invested energy and feelings on falls into silence so to speak you might feel like screaming into the void. And this year I think our emotional responses are a bit enhanced in general due to the current grim situation.

But I'll cherish your words and keep it in mind 😊

Ironically, I don't write much in Italian. Weirdly, in Italian words come easier but not stories while in English it's the opposite. Probably because I tend to read stories about other countries and times too. I don't think my stories will interest much Italians? Like, the idea I have for a novel set in the 1910-20 decade (my fixation, I know) and dealing with some historical changes back then, Irish uprisings for independence and featuring a love story between two suffragists (because shockingly not all suffragettes were straight back then)...assuming I have what it takes to write it and it turns out good, would be easily get ignored here. I don't know if it makes sense...

Background characters are so interesting at times it's a pity they don't get more spotlight in some stories: take Sabine, Lawrence & Felix, Lena. I wanted so badly to know more about them!

No, I haven't seen Ratched...yet! But you bet I will 😉 especially if there is mlm/wlw solidarity! Do you recommend it?

To be honest I felt that...Zetta needed that. And maybe Lawrence too. I can see her delivering a glacial line to a journalist to silence the rumours about his cowardice. It would fit with how protective she is with the ones she care about and it's so heartbreaking to see her protect others but not be protected if we exclude Sabine's devotion and loyalty. After all the suffering she dealt with in her life, she needs Lawrence, Adele, maybe somehow Richard do the same for her.

I suppose all we members of the lgbtq+ community have sooner or later experienced that. I have friends like that too so I get your words.

I remember the first time I felt that. I was at a gay bar with a girl and two friends of her, a gay couple. My first time in a gay bar but I didn't say it out loud not too look even more like a total newbie. Nothing sordid happened, fear not 😂 but I distinctly remember the way I felt looking around and seeing people like me simply being themselves. Chatting and dancing with friends or sitting with a date at a table. The guys held hands most of the time and kissed from time to time and nobody cared, everyone understood. A flash of another dinner I had out with a friend and another gay couple came to mind: that time the guys didn't hold hands nor kissed, only one of them put an around around the other's shoulder or playfully ruffled him. But that was all.

One thing I believe most straights fails to understand fully is the right measure of pride and self preservation. At least to me it works this way: I am not ashamed of who I am and even before questioning my own, I had no trouble understanding the concept of gender and sexual identity. But if I don't flood a partner with PDAs in public there is a reason: I am not 'being afraid to be myself', I know I should never feel that way, but I've also heard or read a few bad stories of people like me getting in trouble for that. You never know what kind of people you have around and I don't want to spend all the time looking over my shoulder if someone is staring. I don't want to be afraid to walk to my car afterwards and put myself and a dear one in danger. I'm not suffering of a closet complex or whatever one once said.

Or all the time they end up saying something hurtful or homophobic even without meaning it and at times you don't want to be a cry baby and start a discussion.

Mind you, I haven't exactly vibes with every lgbtq+ person I got to know but I know one thing: they can understand things others don't get. Like the boys telling me what streets and areas avoid as they are not particularly safe even if I believe most of us can pass for straights and go unnoticed in the sun.

It's disheartening we still have to be that careful even in 21 century when it comes to love another person, in the end. Or to be who we truly are.

Sorry, I got down a tangent here! 😬

#french nonny #asked #lgbtq issue #zetta x adele series

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imhereforbvcky · 6 years ago

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Wide Awake

Summary: When you get yourself into trouble with the law, you call on an ex-something for help. (Tony x reader)

Prompt/Request: “I couldn’t sleep, and I know you’re practically nocturnal, so I thought you’d answer.”

Warnings: None! Just swearing and shenanigans

Word Count: 2118

Author’s Note: Okay this is my first attempt at Tony for more than a scene. He is difficult to write. So complex and it’s difficult to maintain that much sass. I’m not convinced I got it right, but here we are. Feedback and constructive criticism welcome.

“Uh hi Tony,” you stammered into the recording, holding the heavy plastic phone to your ear. What year was it, anyway? Why was this phone so damn ancient? “It’s me. I couldn’t sleep, and I know you’re practically nocturnal, so I thought you’d answer.” The MP at the door scowled at you and you shifted on your chair. The metal scraped across the concrete floor. “Actually that’s not true. I could really use your help.”

You hung up when the recording informed you the message would be delivered. The MP stepped forward and took the phone.

“Hey! Where are you taking that?! He’ll call back!”

The man in full military fatigues turned back with a sigh. You wondered if anyone could be more frustrated with their job. It made you a little pleased. If you had to be dragged in here to this intentionally uncomfortable rat cage of a room, your captors could be a little uncomfortable too.

“We don’t allow treason suspects unrestricted phone access.”

You rolled your eyes. “Light treason. It was light! And accidental!”

He didn’t react in the slightest as he turned with the phone under his arm and headed back out the heavy steel door. Your head fell back between your shoulders when you heard the low clank of the lock.

It was no secret that Tony had an inexorably active mind. No one would be surprised to find him up at odd hours tinkering in his lab. He had a whole floor for it.

Nowadays though, it wasn’t curiosity that kept him up, kept him working. Tony carried more than his fair share of trauma and unhealthy coping mechanisms. He’d come a long way toward channeling them into more constructive directions, and this – the late night tinkering – was one of them.

Instead of a drink to blur the pain or a drug to ease his mind, he focused on something else. But it wasn’t just that his mind was engaged. There was something comforting and familiar about working with his hands. It gave him control in a way nothing else could.

Sometimes his mind was a runaway train. But here, in the lab, with his hands on steel and iron, surrounded by the things he himself had created, he could slow it all down.

No one would have been surprised to find him in the lab at 1:30 in the morning. But not everyone knew him well enough to recognize it as his own brand of therapy. Most people didn’t bother to. The perils of celebrity.

“A call for you, sir,” FRIDAY’s soft accent called through the blaring music of the lab.

Tony frowned. His attention hardly shifted from the delicately balanced wiring he held against the glowing soldering iron with long foceps. FRIDAY allowed only a very small handful of callers through when he was in the lab, and frankly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to talk to even that short list just now.

“Busy,” he ordered, tongue poking out involuntarily as he concentrated on the precarious task.

“It’s collect, sir. Department of Homeland Security.”

“Then I’m very busy.”

The AI played the recorded message and Tony froze. It had been years since he’d heard that voice. Another lifetime. The soldering iron slowly sank to the lead table and his eyes drifted to the dark emptiness ahead of him through the floor to ceiling windows.

It had been hours. Hours on hours. Time was meaningless to you, generally. You were smart and quick but scattered. Your conscious unfurled like a tangle of Christmas lights. Just when you think you’re on the right track it takes a sharp angle and gets caught in a knot, a new puzzle, a new challenge. You were always losing track of time.

But here, in this gray room with it’s steel grey table and steel grey chairs and black Styrofoam ceiling, time seemed to unravel entirely. With no external stimulation you drifted down the web until you couldn’t follow the tangle any further. The energy itched beneath your skin until you jumped up from the seat and paced. Then you stretched. Then you lay on the floor and thought some more.

It had been years since your last contact with Tony Stark. But you knew he’d be there when you really needed him. You tried to convince yourself that was true as the time passed in its slow winding way.

Finally, when it seemed you’d been there so long you’d half convinced yourself you could dissolve your own atoms and melt into the floor at any moment… The clatter of the lock turning in the empty room rang as loud as a freight train.

The MP stood at the door, the same bored expression, but this time, he stood to the side, holding it open.

“Morning, Nurse Ratched!” you called, letting your head fall back to the floor after catching a glimpse of his rolling eyes.

“Now that’s just rude.”

Your eyes snapped open, and a grin dragged across your lips at the sound of his voice.

“I have 3 PhDs,” Tony frowned, gliding into the room. “That’s Dr. Ratched to you.”

“No,” you drew out the word as you curled to your feet. “You, darling, are my knight in red shining armor!”

He didn’t speak, but the smile on his lips drew out the series of wrinkles at his eyes and you knew you’d called the right person. Rolling his eyes playfully, he jerked his head toward the open door, beckoning you to get moving.

You did, but not before stopping to throw your arms over his shoulders and bury your face in his neck. Sweet and spicy cologne tickled your nose, an expensive cocktail, no doubt.

“It’s good to see you, Tony.”

His arm curled around your back and you felt the stubble from his jaw scratch at your shoulder as he pressed in close.

“It’s been a while.” The whisper of his breath tickled your skin and set a shiver prickling up your spine.

“You know these aren’t private rooms,” the MP deadpanned.

The snicker had burst past your lips before you could stop it.

“Who hurt you, Ratched? Why does happiness make you so angry?” So relieved to be free, and to see Tony, your stupid web of a brain, had charged full steam ahead.

As you reached to put a hand on the MP’s elbow, all mock sympathy and snark, Tony snapped out to pull you back with a firm grip on your wrist. The scowl from the officer was enough to have you biting back another giggle.

“Okay, no touching the Military Police,” Tony, instructed, rushing you through the door as another officer led the way out of the tunnel of hallways. “Let’s get you out of here without any new charges.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

“Can’t take you anywhere,” he teased under his breath. He gave you a familiar squeeze as he guided you into the elevator with an arm still securely around your waist.

“For the record,” you argued, as was your wont. “I took myself… well not here. Where is here, anyway?”

“Disneyworld.”

You looked up at him with a frown and a sigh but he barely cracked even a hint of a smile.

“The Pentagon!” he finally shouted. “How in the hell did you land yourself on the brink of actual oblivion in the basement of the fucking Pentagon?!”

“Okay, relax. It was an ex—“

“If you say ‘It was an experiment,’ I will lock you up myself. Are you insane?” His warm brown eyes had turned hard and angry as they bore into you.

By now you’d left the elevator and you’d practically jogged to the front desk to keep up with his quick pace. His questioning stare never left you as he slammed his visitor badge down onto the counter and they handed you a plastic bag with your belongings.

“Um okay how about it was a… uh… test, then?”

“Oh for the love of…” He rolled his eyes and turned away from you briefly. “You know they could have killed you on sight, right? Like a carnival shooting game. The one with the ducks? What is that called. The one…--”

“Ducks? I don’t… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You grinned up at him as you leaned into the heavy door and spun out into the warm summer air. The humid night closed around you like a comforting embrace compared to the icy bite of the rigid air conditioned building you’d just fled.

“Yeah, yeah, the one where you were a sitting duck, and they could have legally shot you! in the head!”

“Well that would have been an extremely rude way to greet a guest.”

“You could have been killed!” he shouted. Somehow his hands were around yours and he had pulled you close, eyes dancing back and forth over face, searching for you to recognize how serious this was. “You broke into the White House! They were gonna bury you in some basement cell until you were forgotten.”

“You worry too much, you know that?”

He blinked at you, frustrated, and afraid, and for once in his life, out of words.

This was always how your arguments progressed. There was nothing serious enough for you where Tony was all in, stakes so high he might snap.

You were like that one perfect summer: a light breath and a rash decision, laughter and risks. An exciting toy others always seemed to want to hold in their hands but not to keep. A pleasure but a liability.

When you met him, Tony had seemed a match for your spontaneity. But in the end, he worried. Too much, and constantly. He couldn’t stand to watch the destruction of your fire and you wouldn’t let yourself be dimmed.

“I… nobody’s ever accused me of that particular crime.”

“That’s because you don’t let people see you,” you offered a sad smile and stepped closer, closing the distance, the miles, the years that had separated you all this time. “But I still do.” Your forehead pressed to his and your eyes remained locked on his, warm and open and so wonderfully, comfortingly, familiar.

He sighed, relenting. Letting the argument go for now. There was no other way; there never was with you two.

A slow smirk pulled at your lips when he lifted his gaze back to your face.

“You wanna see how I did it?”

“No.” He was firm and he shook his head, moving yours with it, foreheads still pressed together. “Absolutely not.”

“Yeah you do,” you laughed, trying to nod against his rhythm.

“No!” he laughed but then growled your name as he dragged you down the stairs of the building by the elbow. Like you were kids, like he was scolding you for sneaking into the lab at MIT again. Like you were young and free, pushing boundaries and chasing dreams. Somewhere along the way, though he’d found his dreams and caught them.

You dug through the plastic bag, searching for the small piece of technology that had brought you here.

“You can’t,” he sighed, holding the car door open for you. “Terms of your release. A very strongly worded Cease And Desist.”

Your eyes went wide and you took one last look inside the bag.

“They took it.” The defeat in your voice was palpable.

“I’m sorry,” and he was. He knew too well what it was like to have your work seized and used in ways you would never know, intend, or approve. “It was the only way to guarantee your release.”

It ached like a part of your chest had been taken. Your work was your heart. It gave you purpose and direction and it was gone.

“You know you can’t just teleport inside the President’s bedroom,” he soothed, sweeping gentle hands over your arms and pulled you close. Tony gave the best hugs.

“Gross,” you mumbled against his chest, face scrunched into a grimace. “That’s the last place I want to be.”

“Where do you want to be?” he asked, stroking a hand over your hair. “Name it and we’ll go.”

You sighed and lifted your face, resting your chin on his chest. The cold metal of the arc reactor made you smile. Tony’s work would never be separated from him, he’d made sure of that. At least some of the good ones win.

“Cheeseburger,” you moaned. “I need a cheeseburger.”

A laugh rippled through his chest and shook your body. The sound was high and true; a real, genuine giggle. It pulled a grin to your lips.

He tipped his head down and kissed the tip of your nose. “Okay. I know a place.”

Will reblog with tags shortly

#tony x reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark #tony fanfic #tony imagine #tony stark fanfic #avengers imagine #avengers fanfic

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thedistantstorm · 5 years ago

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Project Compass 09

Read Along on AO3 Here

<< Previous Chapter << >> Next Chapter >>

This time: Vah’nya pulls Ezra aside. Ivant gives Ezra some tips on fighting the Grysk.

Next time: Un'hee is displeased. Ezra stumbles upon a truth. Thrawn forces himself to think logically.

Ezra didn’t sleep. He couldn’t. He was too tightly wound. After two hours of staring at his ceiling reeling from the day’s events, he slipped quietly into the hall. The door to Thrawn's sleeping quarters was open, the green indicator light spilling into the common space though the lights were off and the faint glow of Chiss eyes weren’t present in the dark. He must be asleep, Ezra thought, though he'd obviously left his door open to be sure he'd hear if Ezra had any issues overnight.

Knowing that, as silently as he dared, Ezra slipped out into the hall, using the Force to keep the hydraulic door from whooshing with sound in an attempt not to wake his roommate. He waited outside the door for a moment focusing. Nothing. No sound or disturbances. He exhaled, beginning to walk, no true destination in mind.

Thrawn had told him about Hera in an attempt to give him something positive to focus on. Ezra appreciated that more than he thought Thrawn could ever truly know. But in the face of something so dark, it made him fear. It drove him to terror, to think of something like the Grysk unleashed upon more innocents, of them reaching his home, his family.

It was something so evil, like the brief glimpses he’d had behind the Emperor’s facade. He shuddered and walked without any real direction. He took the lift up and down, walking each level’s halls. He wandered, knowing his way around the ship well enough to shift his attention inward.

Somewhere around the third or fourth pass through some of the corridors, a door opened behind him after he’d passed. “Your thoughts are loud, Ezra’Bridger,” Senior Navigator Vah’nya said in mild Basic, thick with both sleep and accent.

Ezra flinched, rubbing the back of his head. “I’m sorry,” He said. “I didn’t mean to-”

“It is alright,” Vah’nya said. “You encountered a formidable enemy today,” She said. The way she spoke made Ezra feel like he was ten years younger than her, not three or four. “Do you wish… to talk about it?” Her glowing red gaze softened.

Sheepishly, Ezra said, “I only fought three of them, and I barely-”

“They are a dangerous, adaptable enemy. Your powers were very useful. The Admiral was impressed, though I doubt she said as much,” A smile curled the Navigator’s lips as she straightened out the messiness of her hair. “You will be trained, I heard as well.”

“Yeah,” Ezra said. “In a few hours. Captain Ivant said he’d show me.”

“Then you should sleep,” Vah’nya suggested.

He knew that, but, “I can’t.”

Nodding, the Navigator stepped back into her quarters, gesturing further inside. “I understand this,” She said. “Come.”

She disappeared further into her quarters, procuring a portable kettle that she filled from the kitchenette sink. Her quarters were far more luxurious than the ones he and Thrawn shared, not that Ezra was complaining. She switched to Cheunh, “I promise I will not give you that tea you hate. I only keep some here for Eli. I do not know why he likes it. It tastes like dirty water and iceberries.” They shared a grin.

“Thrawn likes it too,” He said. “Ivant brought him some earlier, while I was...” He frowned.

Vah’yna gestured to a short couch and a reclining chair that looked to be the piece of furniture most frequently used. Ezra chose the corner of a sofa with a deep blue blanket over the back of it. “It sounds like you have some binetim to share,” She said.

Ezra tried to figure out the word while the Navigator poured out hot water into two pale blue mugs. She placed one in front of Ezra before curling her fingers around her own and tucking her legs beneath her as she sat down on the recliner. The tea definitely smelled spicy and invigorating, but somehow soothing at the same time. It was more like the kind he’d remembered Kanan drinking, and that was enough to make his shoulders unwind from some of the tension that ratched them up towards his neck and chin.

“It means gossip,” Vah’nya smirked as she said the word in Basic. “What happened?”

“I was mostly out of it. But they were talking. I didn’t know the language.”

“Ah,” Taking a sip of tea, Vah’nya shook her head. “Sy Bisti. That was how they became linked, you know. Mitth’raw’nuruodo always struggled to learn Basic. Or, at least that’s how the Admiral tells it. Eli said Mitth’raw’nuruodo’s Basic was too good for him to need a translator, but he is too modest,” She laughed before focusing back on the topic at hand. “Was he there for long?”

“The Admiral called him away. I don’t really know.”

“Yes, they had to yell at me,” She smirked. “That is how I heard about your new lessons.”

“At you? What did you do?”

She shrugged, a playful yet elegant gesture. “I am too careless. They remind me that I am young and reckless all the time. I think they forget what it is like.”

“I know what you mean,” Ezra said, sipping his tea. It was good. “So why do you care about what Captain Ivant and Thrawn do?”

Vah’nya pursed her lips. “Ezra,” She said. When he blinked steadily at her, she sighed. “You are hopeless, Jedi. You can feel the beings around you far better than a Chiss. Surely you felt something.”

“I mean, when I focus on them," He agreed. "But I wasn't really focusing on anything." He did straighten a bit. "You think there's something going on."

"I am Mitth'raw'nuruodo's closest connection to Eli. He has not asked, but he wants to know."

"That's the third time you called him that."

"Eli? That is his name," Vah'nya reminded Ezra.

"His given name, that nobody here uses."

Vah'nya adjusted to sit sideways atop the recliner, one long leg pulled up to her chest. "We are close because of our time spent together, but, even before that, I was his first ally among the Chiss."

"I didn't know."

"His first year was difficult. He missed Mitth'raw'nuruodo."

"They were friends, then?" The Navigator gave him a flat stare. Ezra balked, "What? When I suggested it, Thrawn acted like he didn't know!"

Rolling her eyes shifted the glow of red from her cheeks to her forehead and back again. "They are hopeless," She said, exasperated. "Will Mitth'raw'nuruodo join you for your training session?"

"I think so," Ezra said. "Ivant invited him."

"It will be interesting," She said, then, "May I join you?"

Thrawn wasn't surprised by the lack of Jedi in their quarters when he woke. Trusting he would adhere to instructions, the Chiss set out to prepare for his early morning. That he hadn't heard Bridger was ennerving, considering Thrawn felt like he'd hardly slept at all for all of his tossing and turning. That was unlike him. Though, it had been a very tumultuous few days. Faro, then Bridger, then Vanto. Thrawn let himself into the refresher and reached for the tablets he knew were kept on the counter. There was no denying his oncoming headache.

With far more complete access to the Chiss's archives aboard ship, Thrawn had spent the majority of his spare time pouring over the latest art and catching up on current events. The Chiss were a proud people. Their shortcomings were often masked behind events and festivals, something bright and gleaming to hide the fragility or cracks underneath. Of course, sometimes an event was simply that, nothing sinister or devious behind it, but outside of holidays or annual traditions, it was rarely so. Thrawn was better at picking out his own peoples' patterns than the Empire's, though he suspected he would never entirely master the political nuances.

Interestingly enough - or maybe uninterestingly, on this he wasn't sure - Vanto's "bedside" promotion to Captain, an unusual event in the first place, as one usually attained and held the rank of Commander within the Chiss ranks for at least five, but up to ten years, was nowhere within Chiss news streams. Vanto being a part of their military, while highly unorthodox, likely didn't sit well with some of the more well-to-do socialite families of the Aristocra.

The nature of Vanto's work, his unique skill set was of great use to the CDF. If there was a pattern, some way to identify Navigators within certain family ancestries, or some trend in the rise and set of their abilities, Thrawn knew Vanto would find them. He was not like Nightswan, a player on Thrawn's own level. Vanto's intelligence was subtle. He was a late bloomer, not because of stupidity but simply because he was not nurtured or put into the correct situations.

Thrawn was starting to think that perhaps his initial presumption had been incorrect: Nightswan had refused his offer to join the Chiss, and Vanto had been the consolation prize. A loss at Thrawn's side that would prove valuable to his people, but not the revolutionary genius he suspected they would value most of all.

While wholly the truth, that particular line of thought left Thrawn unsettled as he left his quarters. He had identified strengths in Vanto, had done his best to give those strengths experience and exercise to grow. But in Thrawn's wake, Vanto had been reduced to collateral damage and a consolation prize.

Not that one would know such a thing now.

Now, it was Vanto who would be the one to show Ezra Bridger, a human Jedi, a boy who had outsmarted him - and that still rankled a little, even if Thrawn knew it was for the best - how to fight the Grysk. Now, Eli Vanto outranked him in the CDF, despite being ten years his junior. Now, the Chiss lieutenants who served him did so with pride. His humanity was not a weakness to the Chiss who served him. It was a quirk, yes, but it was an advantage. It was inspiring. Though there had been few times he and Ezra were on the bridge during a mission - Ezra's studies, and Vanto's unwillingness to allow Thrawn closer than occupying the same starship considered - he had seen glimpses of his command style.

Eli worked just as hard as his crew. He listened and taught those who served with him, and his passion was rewarded with loyalty and results His insight and eye for patterns, concealed clues, all of it was honed, and frankly, impressive.

It was everything Thrawn had ever seen in him. A sharp mind, a warrior's spirit, and a kind, just heart. But it was more than that. Before, he'd seen Eli as a consolation prize: Not possessing the overwhelming genius of Nightswan, nor the tactical skills he himself boasted throughout his career. Thrawn had been a fool to ever think, even for the briefest of moments that he had settled when sending this man to the Ascendancy.

The training rooms his datapad directed him to were not any of the usual ones frequented by the Navigators. In fact, Thrawn suspected it was specifically used for purposes like these: specialized training and testing, private supplemental lessons. He stepped into the antechamber. The door closed quietly behind him. There was a large panel of two way transparisteel, so spectators could view the session by toggling the panel on the wall. It was not activated now, though he could hear the sound of stick-fighting through the open doors, one on each side of the antechamber, framing the viewing window.

Ezra was standing in the far doorway, watching with interest. He tilted his head to look at Thrawn, gave him a curt nod, then looked back into the room. Vah’nya’s grunt of exertion, the sound of training sticks smacking thickly against each other rapidly giving way to the sound of quick, light footfalls. Over Ezra’s shoulder, Thrawn saw the Senior Navigator get thrown back, losing her grip on her weapon. She glared up and across the room.

“Now what?” Vanto asked curtly. Thrawn blinked, surprised to hear that he was already there.

“They’ve been at this for almost an hour now,” Ezra said softly into the Chiss’s thoughts.

Vah’nya rose quickly, body coiled in a defensive pose, coiled like a predator waiting to strike. It was an unarmed combat style taught in the Chiss military, an advanced position. All Navigators were trained in self defense and basic combat as they reached their seventh year, with very elementary instruction before that. For a Navigator well into adulthood like Vah’nya, it made sense that she would be expected to be capable of the same skills expected of other soldiers. When her Sight left her, she would need to be proficient to continue her career within the military structure.

Though, that wasn’t all it was. Thrawn saw the narrowed gleam of her irises, the glow of her eyes illuminating the sheen of sweat on her face. Her training uniform had shorter sleeves and displayed the scarring Thrawn had noted on her arm. Both arms bore scarring to a degree. They looked like latticework from afar. Purposeful. Indicative of torture. He didn’t doubt she harbored scars elsewhere. Torture did not mean access to medicine like bacta that could heal almost any being without fail.

The Chiss style of combat was aggressive, nothing held back. Endurance was built with experience and pushing past one’s limits. The movements were swift and harsh, beautiful in a dangerous, practical way. Navigator Vah’nya rolled out of Thrawn’s view (Ezra had hardly yielded enough to allow him to see much of the room), so he decided to mimic the younger man’s pose and take up residence in the other doorway.

Vanto wore his full uniform except for his outermost tunic. It was cast off in the corner of the training room. His breaths were even and deep, mildly labored but not panting like Vah’nya’s. His features were completely smooth, though his eyes were sharp and alert despite their inherent darkness, their inability to see in the infrared. Without the thicker material of the outer tunic, Thrawn saw corded muscle. Vanto would never be hulking or giant, but it was clear that he was at or near peak physical condition. He was still of moderately lean physique, though his movements held the poise and grace indicative of practice.

He even fought like a Chiss. Thrawn felt his stomach warm with pride.

Vah’nya was clearly outmatched, and she knew it. Even so, she continued fighting until Vanto levied his weapon at her throat and her back was against the wall. When he stepped back, he rubbed his chin with a wry smile.

“Bet that’ll bruise,” He commented mildly. “You didn’t hold back.”

“That is what you think,” Vah’nya said primly. “We have not sparred in a while.”

The Captain hummed. “Add it to my calendar. You never mind scheduling anything else without my say-so.”

She grinned. “Perhaps I will,” She said with a smirk, before approaching Ezra with a nod. “I’ve… softened-” She looked to Vanto for confirmation. “I’ve softened him up for you,” She quipped, more sure of herself at the end.

“Let me know when you’re warmed up,” Vanto said. He inclined his head to Thrawn. “What have you told him about their fighting style?”

“They do not betray their origins,” Thrawn said neutrally. “His education on them is exactly the same as the Navigators.”

Ezra agreed, pushing off from the second door frame to enter the room. “They’re terrifying.”

“They are,” Captain Ivant agreed. “They prefer lightning guns and slugthrowers - I know you wanted a lightsaber, but apparently they only melt the pellets they shoot you with.” He circles the large room slowly, Ezra following his motions and settling into an open, defensive stance, his back to Thrawn. The Captain dips low, patting his ankle. “Higher ranking ones carry a ceremonial blade in their boots on the right side.”

Thrawn’s gaze snapped to Vanto. He produced the weapon. It was small, compact and dangerous. Vah’nya clenched her fists and did not flinch by will alone. “It’s what made these,” She said, indicating her arms.

“If they capture you, they will attempt to manipulate your mind. They will not drug you. They will use pain to lower your defenses.” He stepped forward and held out the blade. It was made of no metal Ezra or Thrawn had ever seen.

“How did you get this?” Ezra asked, speaking the question on Thrawn’s mind.

Vanto looked into Ezra’s eyes. “We were their captives, as I’ve been informed you know.” His gaze pinned Thrawn for a moment then swung back. “By what had to be done.” He turned his back and slipped the blade back into the concealed sheath just inside his boot. “Your combat skills are satisfactory, but you need work. Commander Mitth’raw’nuruodo will be able to help you with that. I will show you how a Grysk fights when you press them in close combat.”

Thrawn couldn’t help the bitterness that curled in his lungs at Vanto's cool professionalism, like the previous night hadn’t happened at all. The Captain wasn’t doing anything wrong, he was being perfectly polite as usual. It just felt like their shared experiences were nothing. Things should be better this way, he tried telling himself. Vanto was doing everything Thrawn had hoped he’d do for the Ascendancy and then some. This should have been the singular bright spot in an otherwise failed mission. Try as he might, Thrawn could not convince good sense and rationality to win out.

#thranto #Eli Vanto/Thrawn #Eli Vanto #Ezra Bridger #Mitth'raw'nuruodo #Vah'nya #Un'hee #SW Fanfiction #my writing

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lukeleiahan · 6 years ago

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Ripped at every edge but you’re a masterpiece

I read an AU, and I had to follow up...

Essentially, the Empire falls when Luke and Leia are five, and now their parents figure out how to go from here. Lot’s of appreciation for Bail and Breha Organa and Owen and Beru Lars, a generous helping of Sabe, and precious baby!twins Luke and Leia.

Also on AO3, read the fic that inspirated this here.

Five weeks after the fall of the Empire

It starts, like many great things, with a knock on the door.

(No, that's not right. It starts with an old man, who isn't really that old at all, bringing a baby in the middle of the night. Or maybe with a freedwoman dying in the arms of her son. Maybe even with that same slave woman, not free yet, giving birth to that same son.)

Beru is standing in the kitchen, preparing a small dinner for her family. Luke is sitting to her feet, quietly playing with the spare mechanical parts Owen organised for him. He likes mechanics, that boy of theirs. Likes playing and tinkerin g and building and fixing things. He's got a talent for it, like Shmi always said her son, Luke's father, had.

It's the thought of Luke's father that makes Beru tense up. She isn't really expecting anyone, and while that doesn't have to mean anything...

Well, Beru's never really been a trusting person. She's freeborn herself, but her mother had been born a slave, and she's never really felt safe from the slavers. And ever since Old Ben gave them Luke, that little boy that is both Beru and Owen's sunshine, and told them only that Anakin was dead and the Empire wasn't to know about the boy...

Well, Beru's tense. She wishes one of her friends was here, or Owen. But wishing for something won't make it true, and so she puts down the bowl and bends down to Luke.

“Stay here, darling, please. I'll be right back.” She tells him. He nods, and then he smiles at her. He shines, whenever he smiles, that precious boy, and Beru drops a kiss on his forehead.

The woman at the door doesn't seem particularly dangerous, but that doesn't have to mean anything. Her clothing is dark blue, practical but with intricate details that remind her of water flowing. It's a beautiful effect, and one that immediately makes it clear that this woman is not of Tatooine.

Then Beru's eyes reach the woman's face, and she gasps. She's staring, she realizes distantly, but this... Old Ben said...

“I'm not Padme.” The woman says, sounding both resigned and sad, as though this is not the first time she's said it. “I know I look like her, a lot, but I'm not. She was a dear friend of mine, though.”

That's why she sounds sad, Beru realizes, and tries to get herself under control. It can't be easy to look so much like a dead friend.

“Come in.” She says, and steps aside. The house seems so small, so dirty and cheap, with this woman inside, but she doesn't seem to notice it. Now that the first shock has passed, Beru can see the differences between this woman and Padme. Padme had been... less purposeful in her movements, maybe, and her face hadn't seemed quite this sharp.

“What is you name?” She asks, once the woman is sitting down at the small table and she's brought her a milk. Luke is still in the kitchen, playing quietly. She doesn't want him to come out. Not yet.

It might not be the fair, or even particularly likely, but it has always been Beru's fear that one day, one of Padme's family would come and take Luke away from them. He's her boy, her son in everything but name, but she is very aware that there is no official adoption, nothing to stop rich offworlders from taking him away.

But that's not a reason to be impolite, at least not yet. So she smiles and sits down next to the woman.

“Sabe. Sabe Nertay.” The woman says, taking a polite sip of the milk. Her face is like a mask, completely unreadable. Then she takes a long breath, and looks Beru in the eyes.

“The Empire has fallen. I don't know if you've heard about that, out here, but it has. The Emperor is dead, and so is Lord Vader.” She says it in a rush, as though she has been waiting for a long time to say these words.

Beru has heard rumors, of course she has. But there are always rumors. She doesn't usually put much stock into them, and this time... well, it's not like life was so different under the Empire than it was under the Republic.

But it is important to the woman in front of her, and it caused her to come all the way to Tatooine, so Beru stays quiet.

“Padme... she fought the Empire, you know. She fought it before it had ever been founded, and she died... It was clear that the Emperor, that he'd want to use the kids, and Vader...”

Sabe stops for a moment, trying to regain her composure. In that moment, Luke comes in, smiling at Sabe, but heading for Beru.

“I made something for you!” He says with a smile, handing her the mechanics he was tinkering with before. They fit together, somehow, and when Beru takes it, she realizes it's a small holo recorder. She doesn't quite know how he made that out of some small junk parts, but that's her boy.

“Thank you so much. It's amazing!” Beru tells him, hugging him close. She is very aware of Sabe's eyes on them, but she doesn't look. She just looks at her boy.

“This is Miss Sabe Nertay.” She tells Luke. “Say hi to her.”

Luke goes over to Sabe, holding out his hand to great her. “Hi Miss Sabe.” He says, smiling. The woman seems shocked for a moment, then she takes Luke's offered hand, and smiles at him. It looks fairly honest, too.

“Hi Luke. It's nice to meet you.” She says, something almost... amazed in her voice. Luke looks at her. Beru doesn't know whether he realizes the tension in the room, the weirdness of this woman here in her kitchen, but she thinks he might. He's five, but he's also a perceptive sort, her boy.

“It's nice to meet you too.” He says, shaking her hand seriously.

“How about you go get your uncle, darling?” Beru says, and Luke runs off. Sabe looks after him, that amazed look still on her face. Beru can relate.

“He has her smile.” Sabe whispers, almost to herself.

She debates staying silent. Sometimes, she knows, listening is the best thing to do, but yet... she has to know.

“Are you going to take him away?” She asks, voice steady. She's not going to let the woman know her terror.

“No.... no, of course not. I would never... you have raised him for five years. He's yours. I'm not … I'm not going to steal him... He's Padme's son, but he's... he's yours, too.” Sabe says. She seems... insecure is the wrong word, but she doesn't truly seem to know how to handle this, either.

“Is he safe?” Beru asks. Another terror rises. If Sabe is not there to take Luke away, then why is she here? Is there anything else, something more terrible than even the Empire, coming for her boy?

“Yes.” Sabe says, louder than she was probably intending. She looks Beru in the eyes. “He is safe. Vader... Vader was the danger. Vader and the Emperor. They're dead now. They can't get him. They're dead.”

It shouldn't cause so much relief, Beru thinks, that this stranger, this offworlder, tells her Luke is safe. But it does.

“Why are you here, then?” Beru asks.

“I think... I think your husband should be here to discuss this?” Sabe sounds insecure now. It causes Beru's nerves to ratch up again, but she tries to control that. She thinks of what Shmi would have done.

“How did you know Padme?” She asks. Luke has asked about his mother. Not that often, but it's natural for him to be curious, and Beru knows so little.

“We were little girls.” Sabe says, sounding grateful to have something to talk about that she is comfortable with. “On Naboo, we do our civil service young, you know? We elect our princesses when they are about twelve, and out of these prinesses, we elect our queens.

“I started training as a handmaiden at the academy when I was twelve, and two years later I was sworn in to become handmaiden to the new queen. That queen was Padme. She was fourteen, like me, and she took the ruling name Amidala.”

“That's very young.” Beru can't help but say. Fourteen. She remembers being fourteen. She'd been a child. Of course she'd been. To imagine being in charge of a planet at that age... it's terrifying.

“It's how we do it on Naboo.” Sabe says, sounding unconcerned. “You have noticed we look the same. That's why I was chosen to be one of her handmaidens, you know? Us handmaidens, we are not just there to help the queen with her clothes and hair, we are also there to be decoys in dangerous situations. I was always the one who looked the most like her, so I was usually the decoy.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

“It was, I suppose, but I knew what I was signing up for. It was a huge honor, you know. To impersonate the queen. And it was an amazing thing to share, with a friend such as Padme. She wasn't just the queen to me. We were all close, all of us handmaidens and Padme, but the two of us, she was... I never had a sister, but Padme became my sister. I served as a handmaiden for both her terms, and we stayed friends afterwards. She still had handmaidens as a senator, but... I left the service. I became a teacher. I've always wondered.... if I'd stayed...”

Beru takes her hand. There isn't really anything she can say. She wants to tell this woman it's not her fault, but she doesn't even know how Padme died. It would feel like lying to promise something like that.

The door opens, and Luke's chatter fills the room. He's telling Owen about building the holo recorder. Owen is listening, but he's also looking at Sabe with suspicion. Of course he is. Strange offworlders appearing isn't usually a good sign on Tatooine, and he's just as afraid of someone taking Luke away as she is.

“How about you look at those vaps in the garage.” He says, voice gruff but affectionate, running his hand through Luke's hair. Luke grins and runs off.

“So, what's going on.” He says, looking at Sabe. He's not quite glaring, but it's a near thing. Sabe does not seem intimidated, though.

“The Empire has fallen. The Emperor and Vader, they are dead.” Sabe says, looking him in the eyes, the way she did with Beru.

“So what? You gonna take Luke away from us now? 'Cause that's not happening.”

“No. Nobody is going to take Luke away. You are his family. But...” Sabe looks like she's trying to find the right words.

“But what.” Owen says flatly.

“He has a sister. Luke. He has a sister.” Sabe says, and she's looking at both of them now. Beru covers her mouth with her hand.

“Leia.” She whispers. Sabe's head wips around to her.

“Obi-Wan told you?” She asks.

“Old man told us jack shit.” Owen gruffs. He is willing to be nicer, though, now that Sabe told him she's not going to take Luke. “It's a Tatooine thing. Twin names. Luke and Leia... they're only given together.”

“We thought she might have been stillborn. Or died later, something like that.” Beru adds. Luke has asked for his sister. He has asked for her a lot. He was convinced she was there with him, he's dreamed of her. She thought it might be the knowledge that she had existed at one point, or that touch of the desert that allows him to see things others don't, allowing him to communicate with his dead sister. To know she lives...

“I didn't know that.” Sabe says, looking slightly fluxomed. “The thing is... I'm here because it's safe now. As long as the Emperor and Vader lived... if the twins had met, the danger was too high they would have found out.”

“So you do want to take him.” Owen says, defensive again. Beru hears the fear, but she doesn't think Sabe does.

“No! But … they are twins. They should be able to meet. Just meet. Bail and Breha... Leia's adoptive parents, they understand. Leia is theirs, the way Luke is yours. They'd never expect you to give him up. But we thought... we thought they should meet. They have a right to know the other exists. And Leia... she's asked about him. About her brother.”

“Luke's asked, too. About Leia.” Beru says, before Owen can say anything. His hand finds her, warmth and protection and safety.

“We thought they should meet. If you agree. You could come visit, bring Luke. Bail and Breha would be happy to welcome you. And Obi-Wan, of course.”

“I don't see what the old man has to do with anything.” Owen growls, but there is considerably less bite in it. A second set of adoptive parents... Beru can believe they understand.

Sabe seems confused. Beru wonders whether it's the hostility towars Old Ben, or the fact that they refer to him as an old man. He isn't, not really. Beru doesn't think he's much over forty, but he holds himself like a man at least twice his age. He behaves like that, too, so to think of him as Old Ben just feels more natural than anything else. And well... Owen's never liked the man. Too close to Anakin, to the Repbulic, to the sort of things and people that would endanger Luke. Beru doesn't share the dislike, but she understands it.

“He doesn't have to come. You are Luke's parents, not him. But he is an old friend of Bail's so I'm to invite him as well.” Sabe says diplomatically. For a moment, there's silence.

“What is she like, Leia?” Beru asks, and for the first time since Luke left, Sabe truly smiles. She takes out a small holo, places it on the table and let's it play. A small girl, Luke's age, with dark eyes and brown hair in braids, is sitting on the floor, flipping through the pages of a book. After a moment, she looks up, smiling at whoever is recording the holo, and Beru's heart melts. That's Luke's smile on that girls face.

She looks at Owen, and knows that they've both decided in that very moment.

Four weeks after the fall of the Empire

It's a day of celebration. It should be, by all rights.

The End of the Empire, and the Beginning of the New Republic, capitalized for importance, and what it means, now, after a month of celebrating and working and organizing a new government, should be a celebration.

And yet, the mood in Bail's brand new chancellors office is somber. They've all seen too much war, lost too many friends.

“To the lost ones.” He says, raising his glass. Breha, Mon, Carlist, Garm Bel Iblis and Sabe mirror the gesture silently, each of them deeply in thought.

The new government is running, sort of. Bail has been elected the new chancellor, more or less happily. The senate has it's old powers back, and there are three different motions started that should, if they go through as planned, at least put up some strong protections against another Palpatine. Nothing is guaranteed to stop a determinated, manipulative, powerful being like Palpatine to come and take over again, but at least with these new laws it should be more difficult. Bail hopes.

He'd once thought that there was no way for the republic to fall, either, and he'd been wrong. He won't let himself be sure of anything like that anymore.

“Padme should be here.” Mon says, looking at the empty spot at their table wistfully. They always leave a space for her, when they're together like this. The Empire tried to ignore her, but they won't. They won't forget her.

“She knows. In the Endless Sea, Padme knows what has happened.” Sabe says, a quiet conviction in her voice. It's a Nabooian belief, the Endless Sea of the afterlife, but Bail has always found comfort in the idea that Padme is there now, watching over them.

“She deserves her rest. Her and all the fallen.” Garm says.

For a moment, they all stay silent, remembering all their lost friends. Too many of them, Bail thinks. Too many good people died in this fight. Then, Garm gets up.

He looks tired, Bail thinks. They all do, tired with exhaustion and grief and a sense of fear that doesn't seem to want to disappear, even though the Empire is defeated. And his marital troubles won't have gotten easier, either. How someone so passionate about democracy could marry a supporter of the Empire, he'll never understand.

It makes Bail all the more happy about his own marriage. He smiles at Breha, and feels warmth in his heart when she smiles in answer.

“I have an early morning tomorrow. The Imperial forces don't decomission themselves, after all. I'll turn in. A good evening to all of you.”

“Don't remind me. I'll come with you. Good night.” Carlist sighs.

“I'll go, too. My son has been having nightmares these last weeks, all the changes, probably, and the battles, and I promised him I wouldn't be out too late.” Mon says, standing too. “Winter and Leia don't have that problem?”

“Not yet, though it might still come. Currently they're still fascinated by all the changes, especially Leia.” Breha says.

“Consider yourselves lucky, then. We'll see us in the morning. Good night.” She says, smiling, and together they leave.

Bail waits until they're out of the room, then he stands up and picks up one of the holos of his daughters he has standing on his desk. Winters white hair shines next to Leia's brown, and both their smiles glow. They're healthy and happy and safe, he tells himself, just a few rooms down, guarded by Artoo, in hearing distance. Protected by Artoo and two guards in the corridor, to make sure no vengeful imperial gets any ideas.

“There is something else we have to do.” He says. It's been on his mind since the Emperor and Vader died, and now is the time to start doing something about it.

“Luke.” Breha says, putting down her glass. Bail nods.

Sabe seems confused. He never outright told her about Leia's biological parents, never sat down and told her the whole sad story of Padme's last days, but he didn't have to. Sabe knew Padme so well, knows him so well, had prepared Padme's body for the funeral, and Leia just looks like Padme. It wasn't difficult for her to piece it together, as he knew it would be.

But because they never talked about it, she doesn't know about Luke. Doesn't even know enough to suspect anything like this. Maybe he should have told her, but … well, people have always said that the Jedi can read minds. Obi-Wan had denied it, when Bail asked, years ago, but nobody ever truly explained the Sith to him, either, so he couldn't be sure. And though he trusts Sabe with his life, and more importantly with both his daughters lifes, the first rule of espionage still holds: One can't reveal a secret one doesn't know.

Breha knows, though, because she is his wife and he could never keep something like this from her, and she takes the lead.

“We need to call Obi-Wan.” She says.

“What are you talking about?” Sabe asks. She knows Obi-Wan, of course she does, but neither Bail nor Breha ever corrected her assumption that he died with the rest of the Jedi.

And she'll have assumed they'd contact the Naberries first, probably. They'll have to do that, too, Padme's family has a right to know, but it can wait a bit longer. Just a bit.

“Luke is Leia's twin brother.” Bail tells her. Sabe stares.

“It wasn't... it wasn't safe, to raise them together. Obi-Wan and Master Yoda... they said something about... I don't know, combined Force presence? It didn't make very much sense to me, but they were absolutely sure that if the children were raised together, the Emperor and Vader would find them. So Obi-Wan took Luke to be raised by Anakin's stepbrother and his wife on Tatooine.”

“Leia has... Padme had...” Sabe stumbles over her words, clutching her glass of wine as though it would provide her safety. Breha walks over to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“Twins. Yes. Now that it's safe, they have a right to know.” Bail says. They had a right to know since the beginning, he thinks, but now is the first time since their birth that it's a possibility.

“Are we sure? That it's safe. Are we sure?” Breha asks. Her voice doesn't betray it, but Bail knows she's scared. He is, too. Leia has never quite been safe, never really been out of danger. Neither of their daughters have, on account of being the princesses of Alderaan and the daughters of two rebels, but with Leia it has always been more immediate, the danger. The thought that she might be safe now is so strange. What if they've overlooked something?

“As far as we know, the only people who would pose a direct threat to Leia and Luke due to them being Padme and... Anakin's children are Vader and the Emperor, and they are dead.” He hesitates over Anakin's name, only briefly, but Sabe notices. Of course she does.

“What about Anakin? He died when the Jedi fell, did he not?” She asks. She's not asking whether he is Luke and Leia's biological father. Of course not. She'd known of Padme and Anakin's relationship before even Bail had. But there are things he'd never told her. Things he never wanted to speak about to anyone. He takes a deep breath, seeks stability in his wife's eyes.

“No.” He says, and tries not to get caught up in memories.

(Fire and smoke, Padme on a table, a child being murdered by clone troopers, Obi-Wan and Yoda suddenly broken old men, a newborn's cry)

“Anakin Skywalker did not die when the Jedi fell. He died with the Emperor, a month ago.” Bail says. No one knows exactly how those last hours went inside the Imperial palace. All Bail knows is that the Alliance forces won the battle against the Imperial forces, and that when they came to clean up the palace, Vader and the Emperor had both been found dead. Bail himself had done the identification.

Anakin Skywalker had looked somehow both so old, scarred and tired and dead, and so very young. He'd only been 28 years old.

“What are you talking about?” Sabe asks, shouts, really. He's happy that the girl's room is far enough away that they won't hear. They're too young for this conversation. Much too young.

He should have explained all of this to her before, but he hadn't dared risk it. Hadn't dared take the risk that she'd get caught and talk, hadn't had the strength to deal with it himself.

He's only ever talked about it once, when he told Breha the day he brought Leia home. He'd broken down then, completely, and he hadn't ever talked about it again.

But he'll have to do it again. Now, and then at least once more.

“Vader. Anakin... was Vader.”

“What? How?” Sabe is pacing, he notes distantly. Breha has moved to stand by his side again, a supporting presence he's grateful for.

“I don't know. I thought … I thought, when Master Yoda called, that we were there to pick them up, Padme and Anakin and Obi-Wan and even Master Yoda. They survived the … the purge, they're calling it, aren't they? They'd survived, and when Master Yoda called I thought I was going to pick them up, and we were going to figure out what to do next.

“But then... Padme was giving birth, and when I asked Obi-Wan about Anakin, all he would say was that he'd 'fallen'. That was the word he used, 'fallen'. Didn't really understand it until I was introduced to Vader.

“And Padme... the med droid said she was fine, you know? I kept asking, because she was pale and so damned silent, but the med droid kept insisting she was fine. She named Luke and Leia, and then she... I don't know. She slipped away.” There are tears in his eyes, and he can't break down again, he can't. He focuses on Breha's hand in his, willing himself to focus.

“Slipped away? What does that mean?” Sabe asks, tears running over her cheek, but she's refusing to break down, too, just like Bail, and isn't that a testament to how much they're all politicians, all spies, that they won't let themselves break down over the death of a friend?

“Master Yoda said she 'lost the will to live'. As though that's a cause of death. I … you and Dorme and Yane, you were the ones who prepared her for the funeral. You saw how... you saw that there were no obvious injuries. Nothing to indicate what could have killed her. I still don't know how she died.”

It's something that's been bothering him since that day. Lost the way to live , what bullshit . Padme was desperate, and she was grieving, and she might have given up, but one doesn't die of that. Not without other things happening. And the med droid said she was fine...

And yet, the Sith... He's never voiced this thought out loud, but well... the Jedi were never open about the extent of their powers. And the Sith are supposed to be worse...

“That doesn't make any sense!” Sabe yells, throwing her hands up.

“We've been puzzling over it for years.” Breha says, calm and compassionate. “There is no answer we can see, but we can't help her now. We can help her children, though.”

There's a long silence. Then.

“Where is he?” Calm. Focused. She was a handmaiden to the warrior queen Amidala, a spy for the Rebel Alliance against a fascist empire. It shows.

“Tatooine. Beru and Owen Lars are his parents now, at least that's what Obi-Wan said he was planning. We'll have to talk to them, make plans with them.” Bail says.

“I'll go. I'll talk to them. Bring them here.” Sabe says, running her hand over her dress. She wipes the tears of her face, resolute in the face of having a mission. Bail knows he won't talk her out of this, and he doesn't want to. He can't go himself, the new chancellor leaving would be seen as weakness. And Breha as the queen of Alderaan would draw way too much attention. Sabe though, a gouverness and former handmaiden, she can go wherever she wants whenever she wants.

“Bring Obi-Wan too, if he wishes, but the important ones are Beru and Owen and Luke. We need to figure this out, all of us. We're in this together.” Breha says, equal parts queen and friend.

Sabe nods.

“I'll be leaving in the morning.”

Six weeks after the fall of the Empire

The air is tense when Sabe leads the Lars' through the halls of the chancellors residence.

They had considered having Bail, Breha and Leia meet them at the shuttle, but it had been decided that it would be less weird for the children, if they didn't meet each other for the first time in a crowded and busy station. Not to mention the possible media attention that would be the new chancellor of the brand new New Republic, his wife the queen of Alderaan and one of their daughters meeting a family of poor moisture farmers from the territories.

Beru and Owen are holding hands, and every now and then they whisper in a language Sabe doesn't understand. She's fairly sure that they're talking about the wastefullness of such grand halls standing empty. If this were Naboo she'd argue, probably, if only out of patriotism, but after having seen their home on Tatooine, warm and small and lovely and enough , she can't quite disagree with them.

Luke, though, is running around them, always either a few steps ahead or behind them. He sticks close enough to them that Sabe always has him in her sights, and she knows that Beru and Owen, too, always watch him, but he doesn't seem to feel the tension.

He seems so fascinated, by everything, just like he'd been on the flight here. Sabe's ship, Nabooian build but stationed and customized on Alderaan for the last few years, had interested him just as much as the grand houses here, and the art that decorates the wall. He's staring at it all in childlike wonder, and Sabe can't help but smile at his genuine amazement.

Finally, they reach Bail's office. She opens the door and let's the Lars' go in first.

Leia is sitting on the floor, a book in front of her. Sabe wonders whether she was truly reading it, or whether she was just pretending. Leia is good at picking up on tension, so she might have just been trying to put her parents at ease. She's looking up now, though, staring at Luke.

It must be so weird for her, Sabe thinks. Five years old, and suddenly she's moving to another planet, and the Empire is gone, and her father is the new chancellor, and on top of that she now has a brother whom she's never met.

Then again, it must be quite weird for Luke too, to suddenly leave Tatooine, if only for a week, and visit a sister he never knew about on Coruscant. Though... he had been so excited about it. She turns to look at him, and finds him clutching his aunts hand tightly. He looks shy, suddenly, in a way he hasn't been with her … ever, she thinks. Maybe it's because she came to him, to his planet, into his house, and was offered milk and hospitality by his aunt. Maybe it's just this place that must be so strange to him.

“Welcome to Coruscant.” Breha says, straightening and holding out her hand to Owen and Beru. For a tense moment, they don't move, then Owen takes the hand. Sabe breathes a quiet sigh in relief.

“I'm Breha Organa, I'm Leia's mother. This is my husband Bail, and this is our daughter Leia.” She says, smiling at Beru and Owen. She offers her hand to Beru, and Bail steps closer.

“I'm Beru Whitesun Lars.” Beru says, her voice not betraying any nervousness. “This is my husband Owen, and this is our nephew Luke.” She shakes Bail's hand, too, and Owen follows suit.

There's a silence, again, and the Leia moves. She's up to her feet and running to Luke before anyone truly notices, and then she's hugging him. It's an absolutely adorable sight, and Sabe has to bite her lip not to break out in tears.

Padme would have loved this, she thinks. Padme would have loved seeing her children together.

“I'm Luke.” Luke tells Leia, looking at the floor, mostly. He doesn't seem to be too scared, though, and he's let go of Beru's hand when Leia hugged him.

“I know that.” Leia says, smiling, her eyes warm. Any worry about how they'd get along disappears in that moment, and Sabe feels a little bit of the tension leaving the room. They're all different people, from completely different backgrounds, but they'd all do anything to see these two children happy. It's quite something.

Leia takes Luke's hand and starts showing him around the room. Luke let's her. They'll be best friends before dinner, Sabe thinks. She hopes Winter won't be jealous. But then, she's spend some time with Luke now. He'll be Winter's best friend, too. At least he'll try.

“Come sit with us.” Bail says, leading Owen and Beru towards the table. There are some refreshments there, water and wine and some biscuits. “Did you have a good journey?”

Owen's not looking too happy, grim and worried and probably scared, but it's Beru who speaks.

“Yes. We have never been off Tatooine, and Luke has been fascinated by it all. And Sabe has been very kind.” It's awkward. Incredibly awkward. But Luke and Leia are running around the room together, holding hands, so... that's that.

Bail doesn't ask after Obi-Wan, and Sabe is glad for it. It had been strange, to realize just how much Beru and Owen distrust Obi-Wan, but Sabe accepted it. She'll have to ask about it at some point, but she had been relieved when Obi-Wan had decided to stay on Tatooine for the moment, to make plans, he'd said. He'd probably realized his presence at this meeting would only make things more difficult.

“What's your plan here?” Owen asks, gruff and hostile. He's scared, Sabe thinks, terrified of losing Luke to some rich coreworlders he doesn't know and doesn't care about. She hopes that Bail and Breha see it too. But she shouldn't have worried.

“For the moment, just to let the children play.” Bail says, looking at them. “For the future... that's for us all to discuss.”

“We're not taking him away from you.” Breha says firmly. “He is yours, like Leia is ours. But they are siblings. Twins, even. They have a right to know each other.”

It reassures Beru, Sabe thinks, though Owen is not quite convinced.

“What does that mean? Are we supposed to come live here? Because I'm not leaving Tatooine, that's for sure.”

“You don't have to.” Bail says. “Nobody would ask that of you.”

It would be easier, Sabe thinks, if they moved here, and closer to Naboo, too, but it wouldn't be fair. They have their own lifes, and nobody is expecting Bail and Breha to move to Tatooine, so why should the Lars move?

“We could just have them visit. Every few months, at least, you bring Luke here or we bring Leia to you. And com calls work too. We could set up a permanent holonet connection, so that the kids can talk to each other as often as they want.” Breha adds.

“We don't have to decide now.” Beru says, taking her husbands hand. “We're here for the week, and we've had a long journey.” She looks at the kids, talking quietly. They're still holding hands, and are intensely focused on some game Leia is showing Luke. They look different, blond and blue eyed with tan skin to brown hair and eyes and pale skin, but their expression is the same. It's one of Padme's expression, the one she always had when reading some complicated law proposal. For a moment, the resemblance almost takes Sabe's breath away.

“Luke asked after her, you know. Leia. He's asked after her since he could talk, and the last few days, when he knew she's alive and there and he can see her... he's only stopped talking about it once we reached Coruscant.” Beru says, her eyes never leaving the children.

“Leia too. I don't know how she knew... she's always talked about her brother. We didn't tell her, but … she'd dream about two suns and the desert, and her brother. We never knew what to tell her.” Breha says.

“Now we can just tell them the truth.”

xxx

The adults are still talking, important things and meaningless small talk, but that doesn't matter.

In a corner in Bail Organa's office, two children sit, a girl and a boy, a princess and a farmboy, twins. They have never met each other before today, yet they have known each other their entire life.

They hold hands, and soon they will not need words to communicate anymore. At the moment, though, they still do.

“I missed you.” One of them says.

“I missed you too.” The other answers.

They are five years old, and yet, for a moment, they are more wise than any of the adults.

“We're together now.”

#star wars #beru whitesun #owen lars #bail organa #breha organa #sabe #mon mothma #leia organa #luke skywalker #i have so many headcanons that i can write into this au #like that the organas always intended to tell leia about her biological family and especially luke #or that bail never understood how padme died but suspected the sith #which means he follows the same theory as most fans do #and that also means that he had unlike the fans two suspects #he was so terrified of vader knowing about the twins because he considered it quite possible that it was vader who killed padme #also he's really traumatized by the whole thign #also sabe knew about leia but it was like just not talked about #i might write more in this au but i know myself so i won't promise anything #farmboy #twinsies #queen of everything #whitesun #farmer #senator rebel #queen #my writing #sw

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lilacmoon83 · 5 years ago

Text

Lightning in a Bottle

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 5: Next To Me

The Next Morning

Emma stood up and shook hands with the Captain.

"Thanks for the desk work...I think it will help keep my mind busy," she said. Graham nodded.

"You're welcome, but I'm serious about the psych evaluation. I shouldn't even be letting you do paperwork yet," he warned. She nodded.

"I already made an appointment for tomorrow," she promised. He smiled.

"Good…" he said, as she left his office and went to find her desk, only to see Killian waiting for her there.

"Hey…" she greeted.

"Care to explain this?" he muttered, as he showed her a video. She sighed, as it was clearly of her, her brother, and Margaret last night.

"It's complicated…" she said.

"It's a felony and the three of you are bloody lucky that I caught this one," he hissed.

"Are you going to arrest us?" Emma asked and he sighed.

"No...we're going over there and I'm going to hopefully smooth this over with the owner. Then you hope he doesn't decide to press charges, because then it will be out of my hands," he replied. She nodded numbly and followed him out to his car.

"So...Margaret must be over the moon with your brother and her son back," he mentioned. He knew that would get a smile from her and he was right.

"Yeah...she's walking on air and they just fell right back into place like perfect puzzle pieces," she said wistfully. He sighed.

"But we didn't…" he murmured.

"You're married...and that's great. I'm glad you were able to move on and be happy," she said, but there was nothing convincing behind her words.

"So...any idea what happened up there in the sky?" he asked curiously. She shook her head.

"No...just some bad turbulence for a few minutes and then somehow it was five years later for everyone else but us," she answered.

"And you don't...feel different?" he prodded. She side eyed him.

"What are you asking me?" she questioned.

"I just can't see you committing a felony to release a couple of dogs. And David and Margaret either," he mentioned.

"I guess we had a gut feeling. I'm not sure I could explain it if I wanted to, which I don't," she replied.

"Try Em...this isn't like you. You may look the same...but there's something different about you," he prodded.

"What do you want me to say?" she snapped at him and then sighed, as he parked and they got out of the car.

"You think things are different for you?" she asked.

"For you...it's five years later and you moved on...which is great. But me? It's still five years ago and the death of one of our friends is still fresh! I still killed her! But at least I still had you and my job...but now I don't even have that! So spare me the lecture about what you have lost!" she cried.

"You didn't kill Lily…" he admonished.

"She's dead because of me! Why do I get to come back and she doesn't?!" Emma cried and was about to continue her tirade when she heard the voice again.

"Set them free!" the voice pleaded and she put a hand to her temple. He sighed.

"Just stay here...I'm going to see if I can smooth this over with the owner," he said, as he went inside the shop, which appeared to be some kind of auto repair business.

"SET THEM FREE!" the voice pleaded loudly. She growled and followed Killian inside. While he talked to the owner, she looked around and followed the pleading voice. She trekked through the scrap yard and found the dogs sitting in front of a shed.

"SET THEM FREE!" the voice pleaded again and she noticed a lock on the shed. Picking up a crowbar, she began to beat the lock with it, just as Killian and the owner hurried up to her.

"Emma...what the hell are you doing?" he asked, as the lock broke and the door swung open. He was stunned to see the two missing girls that were the subject of his case. Emma looked up in time to see the owner with a metal rod in his hand.

"Killian!" she warned, as he turned and tackled the man, before he could hit him. While he cuffed him, Emma knelt down in front of the poor girls and motioned them out.

"It's okay...you're safe now…" she promised.

~*~

Margaret dismissed her third graders for recess and made her way to the teacher's lounge. The moment she walked in, some of her colleagues stared at her and stopped talking. She wasn't surprised though. Her family was, unfortunately, all over the news. She rolled her eyes and took her lunch out of the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water, before making her way back to her classroom.

"Gossip on ladies...don't let me interrupt," she said. Honestly, she didn't want to hear their theories or have them asking if David was different somehow. She had heard it all lately and didn't care. He was back and that was that mattered to her. As she sat down at her desk and opened the paper bag, she found a note inside. She unfolded the paper and almost melted right there. It was a love note from her husband, just like he used to do and happy tears slipped down her cheeks. She picked up her phone and sent him a text.

"I can't wait to get home to you too. Being apart from you now is even more unbearable," she texted to him.

"I promise I'm not going anywhere this time, my darling. I love you so much," he texted back.

"Love you too, my Prince Charming," she texted back to him, as she ate quickly before her students returned.

~*~

Regina entered the meeting room that afternoon and tried to ignore all the gawking stares, as she took her seat.

"Thank you for joining us, Regina. I can't tell you how wonderful it is to have you here," Archie said. She managed a smile and nodded, as he began the meeting.

"Okay...our first contention for the trials is Henry Nolan. And unfortunately, based on his birth date, he is too old for the treatment to be effective. I move that we deny him," one of the nurse's involved on the board said. Regina couldn't remember her name, but she had quite a reputation around this hospital for being a cold witch and had rightfully earned herself the moniker of Nurse Ratched.

"Excuse me...but I strongly suggest that we consider Henry Nolan for this treatment. The treatment that is based on my research," she interjected.

"Forgive me, Dr. Mills...but the treatment works best for those in the age range of six to eleven years," Dr. Hopper interjected.

"And Henry Nolan is still ten, despite what his birth date says. He was on the plane with me and you wouldn't even have this treatment if not for my research. You're going to admit him to the program," Regina demanded, silencing the room.

"Whatever you believe...I know there is a reason I came back. This little boy wouldn't even be here if he hadn't been on the plane. That could very well be the reason that I came back. To save him and I'm going to do it," she . Hopper swallowed and looked around the room nervously.

"If there are no objections...then we will admit Henry Nolan to the treatment program," Archie said and no one objected. Regina showed a pleased smirk, as the meeting continued.

~*~

David got out of the car that afternoon and trekked onto the soccer field, watching his daughter's game. His eyes misted a bit as he thought about all that he had missed in her life. He watched her in amazement, seeing so much of his wife in her that it made him want to cry happy tears. He noticed the attention from some of the other gawking parents and kept separate from them, choosing to watch from under a tree in the near distance. The last thing he wanted to do was make this more awkward for Olive than it already was. The coach called a timeout and his daughter, the rebel that she was, opted to run over to him instead of huddle with her team. Something her coach didn't look happy about at all.

"Dad…" she said, as she gave him a hug.

"What are you doing way over here?" she asked.

"I kind of attract a lot of attention these days. I didn't want to make things weirder for you than they already are," he replied. But she shook her head.

"Dad...I don't care what other people think, especially other nosy parents," Olive said, humbling him.

"I just feel like I let you down...and I hate it," he admitted.

"You didn't let me down," she assured.

"It was hard when you were gone...really hard, but what happened to you wasn't your fault," she added. He nodded.

"You're right...and I'm back now, I won't be missing anymore of my little girl's life and when things get hard...I'll be here for you now," he promised, as they shared a hug. The coach blew the whistle and she hurried back to the field. He smiled, as he had felt her presence a moment ago and turned to her.

"Been there long?" he asked. She smiled at him.

"Long enough to see my little girl happy to have her father back," she replied.

"I know...I just can't help but feel guilty. I know I didn't do any of this on purpose, but it doesn't change what you and Olive went through," he said.

"No...it doesn't, but you're back now and while it doesn't change what we went through...it makes it all worth it," she replied.

"The love we share...I know it's once in a lifetime. It's like lightning in a bottle," she said.

"When I lost you, it was beyond the most devastating thing that I have ever faced and it was compounded by losing my son and my best friend too. I was shattered," she admitted and he felt devastated by that.

"But then you came back. I know we don't know how, but I don't care. You found me again, like you always do and everyone else may be gossiping about the how and why…" she said, as she rolled her eyes. They were clearly the hot topic of discussion among the other parents.

"Or gawking at me like I'm an alien," he deadpanned. She smirked and slipped her arms around his neck, squashing any daylight between them.

"Well handsome, if you are an alien...you can probe me anytime, baby," she purred. His eyes widened and he looked at her in surprise, as she gave him a naughty smirk.

"Mrs. Nolan...I think that's the naughtiest, dirtiest thing I've ever heard you say," he said, as he looked at her with need in his eyes.

"You haven't seen naughty or dirty yet," she promised, as they swayed together. There was no music, but then they never needed any. They always made their own.

"Seriously though...let's not waste anymore time with regrets, because all I care about is that I got you back," she said, as she teared up.

"Because when you were gone...I would have done absolutely anything to feel your arms around me again, like they are now," she choked. He pressed his forehead against hers and then drew her lips into a passionate kiss. She sniffed, as their lips parted and he gently wiped a tear away from her cheek with his thumb.

"Then waste anymore time we won't," he promised, as he kissed her again, with wanton, smoldering passion and lifted her off her feet, before spinning her around. When their lips finally parted, she looked up at him with a dreamy stare and could still see the stars behind her eyes.

"Might as well give all the other parents something to talk about," he said slyly. She smirked and hooked her hand on his elbow, as she leaned her head against his arm. He smiled at her and slung his arm possessively around her waist, as they went to sit in the bleachers.

~*~

"Good work, as usual Rogers…" Graham said, as they shook hands. It was all over the news. Killian Rogers had found the missing girls and rescued them from a predator just in time. Killian had done the right thing and confessed to Graham that it had been her hunch that led them to the girls, but since so much suspicion was swirling around Emma already, being that she was a returned passenger, that part had been omitted from the press. Seeing her at the precinct had already raised questions with the reporters and they could all get in a lot of hot water since she wasn't even cleared to work yet. She didn't want the credit or attention anyway though. She was just glad that the children were safe, even if the voice that had helped her and she was terrified of it or rather what it might mean.

As he came out of the Captain's office, she made herself scarce, but he found her at her desk anyway.

"What you did...you saved those girls from unimaginable horror. How did you know?" he asked.

"I don't know...just a feeling," she answered vaguely.

"Emma…" he started to protest.

"I can't explain it...because even I don't know," she cut him off and he stared at her for a moment.

"You still take my breath away," he admitted. She took a sharp intake of breath at that, but then pursed her lips and walked away. He was married and they were over. It didn't matter if there were feelings there. He had moved on and now she had to figure out how to do the same.

~*~

Just as Olive's game was ending, they had gotten a call from Dr. Mills, asking them all to come to the hospital. So they had rushed there and Robert met them there with Henry. And they had heard three words that gave them a burst of hope. He was approved. He was approved to start the treatment right away. Regina promised to take good care of him and he was led into the treatment room. He was hooked up to the machine administering the treatment, while she looked on. She gave him an encouraging smile and that eased his fears, as he smiled back. This was it. She was sure of it. This was why she had come back. To save this little boy. As he went back to looking at his tablet, she stepped out to face his anxious parents.

"How is he?" Margaret asked, as they jumped up and descended upon her. She smiled kindly.

"He is doing well and responding very well so far. It's a bit early to know...but things are very encouraging," she replied. David smiled, as he picked her and spun her around.

"Thank you...thank you so much," he said, as he shook her hand profusely.

"It's my pleasure...believe me," she said, just as Emma arrived.

"Hey Em...it's working. Henry's responding to the treatment!" Margaret gushed, bringing a smile to the blonde's face and they hugged.

"That's incredible…" she said, as she hugged her niece too.

"Is everything okay with you?" Margaret asked, noticing her pensive look.

"Uh...yeah, it might be easier to explain if I just show you," she said, as they exchanged a glance and followed her to the lobby. The story was still all over the television and they recognized the place where they had released those dogs from the night before.

"You...you found those missing girls," Margaret realized.

"The voice...those dogs. That's where the girls were?" David asked.

"Yeah...I heard the voice again when Killian took me back there to try and smooth things over with the owner and it...led me to them," she admitted quietly, stunning them all.

"Wow…" Olive said in awe. But Emma didn't seem to share that sentiment.

"What is this?" she asked fearfully.

"I don't know...but we keep it quiet. We don't want the government to get wind of it," David urged.

"He's right...but we shouldn't be afraid of this," Margaret interjected and they looked at her with scrutiny.

"MM...it's a voice in our heads," Emma reminded her.

"I know...but this voice just saved two little girls," she said, as she put her arm around Olive.

"This voice is perhaps what brought our world back to us," she said, as she shared a smile with her daughter.

"Mom is right," Olive agreed.

"And even though Ollie and I aren't hearing this voice...we're all in this together," Margaret said. They smiled.

"Together," David agreed, as they joined hands and Emma rolled her eyes playfully.

"Together...but hopefully this was it," she said. But she knew it wasn't...and that night they would find out that it had only just begun…

~*~

Mr. Gold stared at the large screen with detailed photos of all the passengers.

"So...what does your so-called expertise tell you about what happened to that plane?" Vance questioned. Gold smirked.

"Oh, I don't know those answers yet, dearie...but our world has changed. The impossible is now possible, which means the scope of what's to come will be unprecedented," Gold stated.

"That has to be the most vague, cryptic load of bull I've ever heard," Vance commented, making Gold give him a pleased smirk.

"I've been told I have a gift for such," he quipped and the other man rolled his eyes. His eyes focused on the Nolans. Yes...they were definitely the ones to watch in this. And he was very hopeful that they would lead him to what he was missing.

~*~

The Nolan house was dead quiet and the clock read two-thirty a.m. David and Margaret were sound asleep, spooned together, beneath their sheets. Normally, after making love as they had earlier, they both would have slept deeply through the night. But something woke David up in the dead of night and in turn woke his wife after a few minutes.

"Babe?" she called in a sleepy voice, as she noticed he was sitting up in bed. She covered her unclothed body with the sheet and sat up beside him. Gently, she put her hands on his arm and rested her chin on his shoulder.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I...I don't know. It's not a voice this time...just a feeling. It feels like I have to go somewhere," he replied. She nodded and started getting out of bed. He sighed in exasperation.

"MM...we can't just follow this thing, whatever it is, every time this happens. We don't even know what this is," he admonished.

"You're right...we don't, but if it did bring you back to me, then we need to listen to it, David," she argued. He sighed.

"I know the math guy in you is telling you that this is all illogical, but for a numbers guy, we also know that you have an incredible amount of faith in love and things that you can't explain," she said. He smiled wistfully.

"Our love...it's beyond the norm. I've always known that," he agreed, as she got dressed.

"Besides, since when have we ever turned down an adventure together?" she asked coyly, as she watched him pull on his clothes. He smirked at her, as he pulled his pants on and started buttoning his shirt.

"Walks on the beach...picnics in the park...boring math conferences...not exactly adventures," he teased. She slid her arms around his neck.

"Everything is an adventure with you...and I love it all. Even the unknown...like this," she promised. He smiled, feeling humbled by her love once again.

"Okay...but seriously that math conference was torture. No husband should have ever put his wife through that," he joked. She giggled.

"Well, if I remember...you did make it up to me. Many times," she said in a sultry tone.

"I did," he agreed, as she took his hand and they walked out of the bedroom.

"Besides...it actually wasn't that bad," she mentioned.

"Lies...some of those guys were the biggest nerds to ever walk the earth," he joked. She smiled up at him.

"Yeah...but there was this one Professor that was a total babe," she said playfully.

"Really?" he asked.

"Mmmhmm...he was so hot, especially when he put his glasses on and he wore this tight shirt over some very nice muscles and pants over an ass that was to die for. I swear...all the females in the lecture hall were drooling all over themselves," she replied and he chuckled.

"So not a nerd?" he asked.

"Oh he's a nerd...but a really hot nerd that made math sexy," she replied.

"Sexy math...said no one ever," he joked, as they heard Emma coming up from the basement and they shifted back to the task at hand.

"Let me guess...you have a feeling that you need to be somewhere," he said. She nodded.

"What is this?" she asked with trepidation. They exchanged a glance.

"We don't know yet, but we're going to figure it out together," Margaret promised, as they quietly left the house.

~*~

Vance flipped through more passenger files and scrubbed a hand over his tired face. Their science experts had all kinds of theories and they were all over his head. Black holes, time travel, extra terrestrials...at this point, nothing was off the table really.

"Sir…" one of his subordinates said, as he came into the room.

"What is it?" he asked.

"There's something happening at the terminal where the plane is. They just called and said some passengers are gathering there," he reported. Vance looked at Gold and they stood up, as they made their way out to take a car there.

~*~

David parked their SUV and they were stunned to see many other passengers had shown up at the gates that led to the tarmac, where the plane sat. He counted about twenty other passengers and one of them was even Dr. Regina Mills from the hospital. They exchanged a glance and the three of them got out. David took Margaret's hand and Margaret took Emma's hand, as the three of them walked toward the gates, congregating with the other passengers. Margaret may not have been on the plane, but this plane had brought back three of the most important people in her life to her. She was just as much involved in this as they were, because of her soul mate-like connection with her husband. And once they were gathered there at the gate, suddenly the plane exploded, stunning them all. Margaret gasped and David put his arms around her, holding her close. She looked up at him and their eyes met. Whatever was going on had just gotten much deeper than they could have imagined...

#Snowing #SnowxCharming #Emma Swan #Regina Mills #Henry #Mr. Gold #Manifest #with a Once twist #AU #romance #adventure #family #lightning in a bottle

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diceforanaltmode · 6 years ago

Text

Team Fire: Session 3, Egg?!; Part 1: Reunions? Breakfast?

Team Fire has continued their adventuring and at last we can bring you more of their shenanigans! Thanks to Hawke for providing recordings for this session and for the rest of the party for taking so much of their time to help with the transcription of all ~3.5hours of it - now you have an even more detailed account of all the hijinks! The full summary came to 30pages/10k+words, so we’ve split it into four parts to make it a bit easier to read on tumblr - click through to Session 3 part 2 at the end to keep reading!

TEAM FIRE

Rodimus by Frosty (tiefling sorcerer) Drift by Space (earth genasi rogue) Ratchet by Hawke (firbolg cleric) Magnus | Minimus by Tuna (half-orc paladin | human/tethyrian wizard) Megatron by Briar (goliath paladin) Rewind by Robin (high elf wizard) (out for this week, but back soon) First Session | Second Session

We begin our adventure with the party asleep after their long day defeating Zeta. In the middle of the night, Rodimus wakes up in the room he shares with Drift, with the sudden sense that someone has gone, like that feeling when people say they know that a relative has died, but also a sense of relief, like it was a shitty relative. To help himself get back to sleep, Rodimus casts sleep on himself.

Ratchet passes out in bed asleep, just conks right out. He dreams of his memories of what happened to the hospital. What Megatron did. But still, Ratchet rises early and rolls out of bed. He’s getting ready for the day when there’s a knock at the door.

“Yes?”

Roller’s voice comes through the door. “Ratch, it’s me, can I come in?”

“Yeah, sure.” Ratchet opens the door.

“Ah, hey, you doing alright? You sleep okay?”

“Ah, yeah, yeah, Slept pretty well.”

“That’s good. Hey, uh, I got a message from Orion, asked if we could meet to catch up since we didn’t really get to yesterday.”

“Oh, did we now.” Ratchet says sarcastically. “Yeah, the little screaming match yesterday,” Ratchet coughs. “Anyways - yeah, did he want to meet with both of us, or?”

“Yeah. To, y’know, avoid any shouting matches again, there’s a cafe a couple streets down, if you wanted to walk over, they open pretty early, and the coffee’s better than what Swerve serves - but don’t tell him I said that.”

“I’ll always take a good coffee.”

“Alright,”

“I’ll be ready in ten,”

“Okay, I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Ratchet and Roller walk over in companionable silence. Ratchet’s still reflecting on the last day, after having spent the evening mostly drunk, and Roller doesn’t force any small talk.

As they walk into the shop, they see baskets of bread and bagels and rolls, rows of pastries in glass cases, and in a large, round case, a whole cake, decorated with frosting shaped like yellow flowers. There are a few others in the cafe eating breakfast or picking up a loaf of bread for the day, Rung and Nightbeat are finishing up their breakfast.

Orion is in a back corner, halfway through a mug of coffee and an apple turnover, and, talking to an Aarakocra woman, dressed in similar armor to Orion, who looks upset and angry. As Ratchet and Roller get closer, she stands up to leave, and they overhear Orion say, “Alright, I’ll ask him.” Orion looks up and acknowledges Roller and Ratchet.

Ratchet grabs a coffee and then joins Orion. There’s a bit of awkwardness because the last time they saw each other, Orion was screaming at the scourge of Kaon and they had just killed Zeta. Roller follows, getting a coffee and a bearclaw. Ratchet and Orion both sit with their backs to the wall, while Roller has his back to the room.

“Thank you for coming,” Orion says, “It’s good to see you again in better circumstances.”

Ratchet stares into his mug of coffee for a little bit, before taking a deep slurp. “So, Orion, how’s the mind control been?”

“Well, better now that you all got rid of Zeta. Things aren’t quite yet coming back, but I’ve been talking with the AVL folks and they’ve been filling me in on what’s happened, they’ve been filling in all the guards. That’s also - the woman who just left, she’s also in the guard, she had the mind control, and, well, we both had the same thing, but she had it worse because - well, we can’t remember, but her kid is gone, and from what we can piece together, she thinks Zeta ordered her to bring her kid to him and leave the kid.”

Ratchet makes a horrified face at the notion.

“I take it from your reaction that you didn’t see any sign of the kid when you made your way through the castle.”

“To be honest I was a bit preoccupied on our way out making sure you got out, so no. We might be able to go back, search the premises if it helps, if - I’m not sure.”

“Yeah, I - assumed if you’d seen someone you would have made sure they got out, but I promised Ekalu I’d ask, since you were in the castle.”

“Yeah, I - I could ask the others when I get back to the tavern…” Ratchet says, trailing off to mutter, “her fucking kid...”

“I appreciate that.” Orion says, to Ratchet’s offer.

“Her fucking kid.” Ratchet mutters again, shaking his head.

Orion looks very downcast. “Fortunately from what we can tell it seems her kid was only gone a few days at the most, maybe a week. So at least not the entire time Zeta has been here.”

“So - you want to stage a search and rescue?”

“I wouldn’t know where to start. There’s the map the AVL showed you, I wouldn’t know where else a kid would be,” he considers, “unless there’s some part of the castle that Zeta built recently, something the AVL wouldn’t know about.”

“Yeah, I have an idea.” Ratchet says, “and you can rule out the high-security dungeons, we combed through those.”

“I heard. I -” Orion pauses, frowning, “ - what happened in there? I - You don’t - you don’t have to give me all the details.”

“Ah, not much, freed a lot of men, stumbled across a repentant warlord. Ya know, everyday things.”

“So you really buy it?”

“Coming back to this city was a mistake. I - I’m,” Ratchet considers. “He didn’t try to murder us. I don’t buy it. I don’t buy it. But - well, for now, he hasn’t tried any shady things, so - that’ll have to be enough for the moment. Drift - one of my companions on that job, Drift, seemed - rather opposed to taking Megatron down or securing him, or, or even just letting him say in the cell - you know, he was in a variable voltage harness, we didn’t have to let him go.” Ratchet sighs. “This whole thing’s been weird from start to finish.”

Orion sighs. “Well, for what it’s worth, seeing as you’re part of the reason I’m not under Zeta’s mind control anymore, I wouldn’t say coming here was a mistake,” he says. “How’ve you been? It’s been, what, fifteen, twenty years?”

“About. On the road, odd jobs. Trying my best. Trying, sometimes failing. Hmm,” he pauses, considers, “patching up people, the old wandering cleric life. I’ve - I’ve come here for First Aid originally, didn’t think I’d, you know, do the whole fighting a Vampyric overlord thing. I’ve been - y’know, I’ve been undercover.”

Orion nods. “Oh, First Aid’s here, that’s good,” he says, then adds. “They were debriefing all of the guards, they said they’re going to start up city council elections again, get things running back the way they were supposed to be.”

“Oh, well that’s good.” Ratchet considers his coffee. He’s not much of a morning conversationalist, not that he’s much of a conversationalist at any other time. Then, “I’m really glad you’re okay. I’m really fucking glad you’re okay.”

Orion smiles. “I’m glad you’re okay too.” He sighs. “After everything happened in Iacon - just - it’s been hard not to worry, these past few years. And, knowing what you were up against in there - I’m real glad you made it out of there okay.”

“Yeah, I got out, and I -” Ratchet huffs, “I might be so foolish to say I might have some opportunity here, which is - better than nothing. Better than nothing at all.”

“Well, that’ll be good to hear. I don’t know if I’m going to stay in the city.”

“Wait,” Roller interjects, “why - why wouldn’t you stay here?”

Ratchet leans in, skeptical. “Any plans, Pax?”

“Y’know, I - in Iacon, I tried to see what I could do working within the system, and in Kaon I tried to see what I could do outside the system. Then I tried looking for a reformer in Zeta and that obviously didn’t work out -”

Ratchet scoffs.

“- yes, I know, if you had been around you would probably have had more sense and talked me out of it, but - I don’t know what happens next. And I don’t know if there’s a place for me in rebuilding this city. I don’t know how many people recognize me only as someone who worked for Zeta.”

“That’s… if it’s any consolation, if the mind control thing gets out, we might be able to stir up some ruckus, get some new souls on the crew,” he says. “The mind control - it wasn’t you. It wasn’t your fault. I get not wanting to risk things. I get - having been forced to spend time as Zeta Prime’s mook, I get that.”

“Yeah.”

“So - what’s your plan? What’re you doing? Where’re you going?”

“I don’t know yet. I think I’ll have to see.”

“All right, well, hit me up when you’re going out into the world. I’ll prepare a big well-wishing speech, and maybe some flowers; hell, I could arrange a cake.”

Orion laughs. “If that’s true, you’ve changed more in the last twenty years than I could’ve imagined.”

Ratchet grins. “Hey, you never know how the times change, you never know where things go.” Ratchet looks at Orion’s plate. “Suppose you want to get proper breakfast food; you don’t look like you’ve eaten much.”

Orion takes a couple more bites of his apple turnover, “Eh, I’ll be fine, I’ll - well, I suppose I’ll get something else.”

“Alright!”

Ratchet finishes the rest of his breakfast in the cafe as well - exactly three and a half peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, fancy ones. The cafe staff are a little confused by the order, but they make it in good time, the bread is delicious, the peanut butter is good, and the jam is made in house, and it’s just prime.

As Ratchet sits back down to eat, Roller asks. “So - what about you, Ratch? What are you planning to do? I know you talked to First Aid about maybe setting something up here.”

“Yeah, I’m thinking of - looking around, looking for people who can help, Y’know, we’ll need a place, people to help, to spread the word. It’ll be good to have a place again, where people - where anyone can go to get themselves patched up. For now, I’m staying, helping Aid, so I suppose I’ll keep to the headquarters.”

“Yeah, that’ll be where most of the political decisions are getting made. I, uh, I don’t think Prowl’s slept all night. I saw him on the way out.”

“Oh boy.”

“So if you want to know where things are being decided about how to rebuild, how to get things back running again - I know back before Zeta, there was - I don’t know if it was quite what you were talking about, but there were some clinics, a couple of them, in this town. Might be getting those back up to what they used to be.”

“So I’ve got a point to start. That’s honestly more than I would have hoped for.”

“Glad to have you here, Ratch.”

Ratchet lets out a long sigh. “Same.”

Roller chuckles.

---

After waking up, Magnus goes downstairs to check in with Dominus, and Rewind steps out so they can talk. Magnus walks in and immediately Dominus tries to leap out of bed to hug her but falls instead. She catches him before he can hurt himself.

“Thank you, sister, I -” Dominus sighs, “I keep thinking that I should be feeling better but it’s - it’s still taking its toll.”

“You have - you need as much time as you can possibly get! Don’t worry about it.”

“Ah thank you, I’m terribly sorry.” Dominus lies back down, propping himself upright just enough to give Magnus a hug.

“I heard from Rewind that you and your friends were able to kill Zeta and free the city”

“Ah - I - yes.”

“That’s unbelievable, sister. And I -” Dominus looks at his sister, very sincere, “thank you for keeping yourself and my husband safe.”

“Of course! Of course.”

“How are you doing now? Are you alright?”

“I - I do not know. I’m here now, I saved you. It’s been a long road to here. It’s been three years and - and I don’t know. I really don’t know.”

Dominus reaches out and pats Magnus’ forearm before sighing. “I think everything will be alright. I think it will take some time but everything will be - will be alright now. Found a place that I think can be a safe home in a way that -” Dominus pauses. ”In a way that Iacon couldn't.”

“That’s good. That’s very good.“

“Maybe not,” Dominus says quietly before continuing. “Of course that’s - that’s because of you, because you freed the city, so thank you and thank you for coming to find me.”

Magnus is trying to hold back tears.

“I - thank you Dominus. I -” she trails off. Dominus hugs Magnus again, not wanting to let go.

After all the heavy talk Magnus tries to make small talk with Dominus.“So - uh, the hammer?!”

“It’s - it’s quite alright, I know you sister; you don’t need to try and make small talk. It’s quite alright.”

Magnus sighs. “True. Thank you. No - but seriously- why did you make the hammer?”

“Oh, I - Rewind said he gave it to you. Do you like it? Do you like it?!” Dominus asks excitedly.

“It’s absolutely fantastic!”

“I’m so glad! I thought you’d appreciate it. I certainly hope it was useful to you. I’m glad I was able to finish it before you came, although I would’ve liked to give it to you under better circumstances.”

“Heh - yeah it’s - hm,” Magnus considers. “I don’t know how else to describe it; it’s just- useful. Very nice. And you put so much detail on it, so it’s nice to see your work again.”

“From you sister, that’s the highest compliment.”

“Thank you.”

Seeing that Dominus can’t take much more conversation and needs to continue resting, Magnus says, “you need to rest more and knowing me I will pass out if I do not eat something in the next five minutes so - please do rest.”

“I will. Rewind brought me something to eat earlier but please make sure you get yourself something, many things.”

Magnus laughs a bit at the wording. “I intend!”

Dominus gives Magnus one last hug before leaning back on the pillows and closing his eyes. Magnus places a hand on Dominus’ forearm, kisses his head, and says, “Please sleep well brother, I love you.”

“I love you too, sister.” --- Continue to part 2!

#game recap #team fire

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