#the anesthesiologist glanced at me when I came into the OR and was getting the stuff ready on his cart

[sergle]

I think my favorite thing about doing ginger red hair instead of cherry red hair is: lying to people about it

[neon-kazoo]

A Familiar Face

[Warnings: medical setting, coming out of sedation, IV mention]

Hero blinked, face contorting in a mix of confusion and discontent. Slowly, their surroundings came into view. A curtain, a small room cornered off by it, a figure by their feet. They laid on a bed lined with blue sheets with several white blankets layered over them. A nurse tapped quietly on a standing keyboard to their side.

They closed their eyes for another second, and when they opened them again the figure at their feet now loomed closer. It took a second, but Hero recognized the features peering down at them.

“Villain?!” They tried to exclaim, but it came out more as a cough. Their throat was dry and partially numb, making it difficult to form any subsequent words.

“What-“ they coughed again, falling into a short fit. The nurse laid a gentle hand on their arm, assuring them that that response was normal.

Momentarily distracted from their enemy’s presence in the room, Hero noticed their right arm feeling oddly cold. When they managed to untangle the limb from the sheets, an IV was revealed settled into the crook of their elbow.

Not that surprising, considering that it was there before they were put to sleep.

Hero gathered themselves, eventually able to ask weakly, “What are you doing here?”

“You asked me to drive you,” the villain replied, something disturbingly close to concern lurking behind their eyes as they gazed down at the formerly-sedated hero.

Hero narrowed their eyes suspiciously. They remembered signing in for the procedure, but they decidedly did not remember asking their nemesis to accompany them to the hospital.

“Yes, really. I can show you the paperwork if you want.”

Hero glanced to the nurse for help, but she too betrayed them with a confirmation.

Talk about being vulnerable, it didn’t get more trusting than asking your arch enemy to stay in the building while an anesthesiologist rendered you unconscious.

Hero didn’t have the energy to be concerned though, so they accepted the help of the rival that was shifting on their feet.

A change of clothes and a wheelchair ride later, Hero was settled into the front of the villain’s car, fully awake and ready to complain.

“I’m so hungry. Let’s stop at McDonald’s. I would die for some salty fries.”

“Sorry, you can’t eat yet,” Villain informed them apologetically.

Hero glanced at the clock and groaned.

“Some water, at least?” Hero begged.

“No on that too, I’m afraid.”

“What? So you just want me to starve?”

“Not me,” Villain replied easily, not bothering to take their eyes off the road to witness Hero’s grumbling, “Doctor’s orders.”

“So you let doctors do your dirty work now,” Hero huffed, crossing their arms over their chest.

They pointedly ignored the smile that spread across the criminal’s lips at their tantrum.

A long winded rant about dehydration followed.

When they were finally handed a water bottle an hour later, Villain had to snatch it right back out of their hands before they chugged it.

Don’t even get them started on the food an hour after that.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

L&DS Zayne: The Reaper's Gaze

This was a request by one of my homies that day I was writing all those Xavier drabbles. He asked me to make Zayne hurt so I was super cute and decided to spend an entire 20 minutes on this one instead of ten. This is angsty tho so if it's not your cup of tea, please don't read. I have several other fics that are fluffy, funny, or smutty so feel free to pass on this one.

♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Pairings: Zayne x Reader ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Warnings: Mentions of blood, Surgical Procedures, angst, Mentions of death, Loneliness, Nightmares, Hurt no Comfort, Dawnbreaker ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Synopsis: He sees him in his nightmares all the time, but this time it was different. This time it wasn't seeing the Reaper prowling the streets. No, he was there, in that room...alongside you on that cold surgical table. ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Word Count: 1.3k

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Zayne

The Reaper's Gaze

Zayne looks down on his beloved, already knocked out by the anesthesiologist. He had gone over what needed to be done several times over. The surgery was almost a guaranteed success as he held his arms out for the nurse to place the gloves over him. They looked so peaceful sleeping there on the bed, delicate and fragile due to the circumstances. The life normally in his beloved eyes was no longer there, just peaceful sleep.

He went over his tools, making sure everything was good while verbally doing a checklist with the nurse. Greyson was there, his second in command for this operation. It was open heart surgery, one of the riskiest ones, and yet he felt so calm. As though this was always supposed to happen. He could finally save them, at long last.

Zayne looked up, grabbing his scalpel and was about to make the first incision when it happened. He glanced up for a brief moment and could see him off in the distance. His eyes widened at the man in all black, standing in the doorway. Zayne knew this man, he could tell who it was without even thinking about it.

The Reaper.

The one who plagued his dreams was now here, standing. Zayne barely blinked when suddenly the man was standing on the opposite side of his lover, looking down. Zayne’s eyes widened when he could finally see the face. It looked identical to his own, but the eyes were hollow. It lacked life to them as the Reaper looked down at his lover. His cold hand brushed their bangs out of their eyes and Zayne finally moved.

He needed to get him away from them. The moment his hand made contact though, the Reaper dissipated. Then he heard it before he could see it. The beep of the heart monitor as his lover flatlined. He glanced down, seeing their chest wide open, their heart no longer moving in their chest.

There was so much blood it pooled down from the table onto the floor. Zayne rushed over, trying to grab his lover's heart and get it to start beating again. The splashing on the floor was deafening and all he could smell was a sickly iron. On the ground were black boots and he went to scream for Greyson to move the Reaper out of there. He looked up at the Reaper and stared back at him, as though death itself welcomed him.

Zayne looked down and now all he saw was his snowflake, a cloth being moved to cover their face by a nurse, someone stating the time of death. The blood was pounding in his ears, a painful ringing that he couldn’t stop. He didn’t know what was happening.

Then he felt the cold air entering his lungs, his eyes jolting open and he’s no longer in the operating room. Instead there was a chill that crept into his bones as he looked around the room. 

A dream.

A nightmare.

His breaths came out ragged and he let out an audible whimper as he felt the shooting pain in his arm. He looked off to the side and flinched, jumping back in the cot he was in and crashing to the floor. He could see the Reaper’s gaze back on his own. HIs heart pounded heavy in his chest as he tried to calm down. 

Was this another dream? It couldn’t be…no.

Zayne looked up again, seeing that it wasn’t the Reaper who looked at him, instead they were his own hazel eyes reflected in ice. He could see the frost covering half his face and realized what was happening. He turned his gaze towards his arm, feeling the shooting pain going through it again as his evol began turning violent.

He was momentarily glad he was alone in that cold research base in Mt Eternal instead of waking up in a bed he often shared with them. The thing that kept him moving every day. His reason for life.

Zayne grit his teeth through the pain as he forced himself into a sitting position. He grunted as he could feel the ice under his skin, looking at small lesions forming already and he knew they’d only add to the scars he had all over his forearms.

He had to focus. Focus on his breathing, focus on where he was, who he was, what he was. Something to ground him, but the pain through his entire body made him almost scream from the pain. He could feel an involuntary tear rolling down his cheek before becoming a piece of ice by the time it fell to the ground, the shatter deafening in the otherwise quiet research facility.

HIs mind wandered back to the sound of a machine flat lining, then to his lover’s face as they died in front of him.

THis time the pain was searing and Zayne let out a muffled scream, grabbing his arm with his other hand and squeezing. He could feel the warmth of his own blood coating it and he knew he’d have a lot of cleaning up to do later. He sucked in a breath, panting as he looked around. He needed to warm himself up somewhere.

The recreational room of the facility that he often slept in had a fireplace along the wall. He could barely stand, his legs shaking as he made his way over. He had brought things for a fire and could even see the chars from the one he had set ablaze before going to bed. He put the logs in, working on starting the fire but progress was slow.

Every second that passed he swore he could faint. The throbbing in his arm, the whimpers that echoed from his own throat. He felt pathetic there, the only thing he could do right now was survive. He had promised them he would return, so return he must. Once he finished here, of course. He wasn’t done, and sometimes he felt like he’d never be done.

He swore he would save them, and this pain, this aching loneliness in his heart…it would be all worth it when he could see them smile. Just the thought of it warmed him slightly, or perhaps it was the fire that had begun to come alive once more.

He went over to the bed, grabbing a blanket and his coat he had left hanging and put it over him. He walked back to the fireplace, laying on the dirty floor in front of it and let the warmth take him over. His evol didn’t seem to be getting any better, but at least it wasn’t getting worse. He was slowly becoming a bit numb due to the cold.

He breathed shallow breaths, the occasional cry escaping his throat as pain ricochet up his body once again. He would need to treat his wound, clean it and wrap it. Later though, that would come later. He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

His body shivered, his teeth clacking together and his jaw now hurt from the involuntary motions. How long had he even been asleep? He felt more exhausted than before he had gone to bed, and he knew now that if he fell back asleep he would see their face again, that lifeless visage.

This time when the tear came it didn’t freeze, it simply rolled down and Zayne raised his good hand to wipe it away. When did he start crying? He pushed it off to the side. It was fine. He could just lay here, clear his mind, and wait for the pain to subside. It was all he could do in this facility. Tomorrow would be a new day, but would anything change? Hope was what caused the most pain, but if he gave it up completely he would be like him.

The Reaper. 

He was already forgetting the face, how it had looked like him, how it was him. The broken version of him…but was the current Zayne and the reaper so different? Only time would tell that story.

I could've hurt him more, just to let you know. I was being nice to him today.

[power-fantasies-inc]

Murderer-for-Hire The full death experience! Features:

Your choice of demise (violent, peaceful, even a mix of both).

Sedation by a trained anesthesiologist, to create the sense of nothingness.

Optional transportation, while under sedation, to one of these partner resorts: the closest Earth can get to Heaven. (Resort tickets can be booked on your behalf upon request.)

Bonus “disappearing act” package for assistance with change of name, nationality, and more. Best choice for those desiring a reincarnation fantasy. (Submit an inquiry form for information about pricing options.)

If a knock on a door could sound like an apology, that was the knock that came to mine just after sunset one Tuesday night. That would be my last appointment of the day, beginning at 8pm.

I stood, checking the time once more on my wristwatch as I strode across my office towards the door. I liked to open the door precisely when the second-hand hit 12.

When I did so, the man who stood outside straightened immediately, from a slouch to a… partial slouch. The shortness of his stature wasn’t entirely in his poor posture: even if he’d actually stood straight, he would still have been about ten centimeters shorter than me. His long hair, which I noticed and appreciated first, appeared golden, in a way that suggested it was reflecting the color of the overhead lights. His skin was porcelain, tinged pink by the undercoat of blood in his capillaries. Even his dress was muted and subtle: salmon-orange, with a gentle pattern of yellow tulips.

“Good evening,” I said, at about the same time as the man at my door said “Good morning.” I raised my eyebrows slightly—that’s an odd definition of ‘morning’—but nevertheless stepped aside to usher him in.

He walked into my office slowly, with an admiring gaze that traced every surface. The opposite wall from the entrance was all one window, presiding over all three floors of the space. The first floor, where I met with guests, was furnished by leather couches and armchairs, glass coffee-tables, and black metal lamps whose golden light reflected in the window’s glass. The contents of the upper two floors, mezzanines accessed by spiral staircases which bordered the atrium on three sides, were visible through their balustrades. The walls were inset with bookshelves: my extensive library. The second floor contained books mostly for pleasure, and so housed comfortable armchairs and daybeds in which to read. The third floor, by contrast, contained mainly reference manuals and records, so the furnishings were sparser. The most comfortable chair was the one at my desk, from which I liked to look down on the city while reviewing paperwork; it stood just beside the window in the left-hand corner. My guest glanced up at it, as he walked through the room, spinning slowly. I wondered if he was deducing that I’d received his emails from that desk.

Eventually, he seemed satisfied with looking around, and turned back to me. Looking for a cue. “Make yourself at home,” I said, and gestured to the surrounding furniture. I always let clients take their pick of seating.

He sat on one of the couches, and immediately toed off his shoes to sit cross-legged. He folded his hands in his lap and began fiddling with the hem of his skirt. 

I took the armchair across from him, crossing one leg over the other. 

“Thank you for meeting with me,” he said. Now that we weren’t talking on top of each other, I picked up on an accent; subtle, but distinctive. Russian. I’ve always loved Russian accents.

“Gladly,” I replied smoothly. “I apologize if coming in person was an inconvenience. I’ve found that video calls aren’t as personal as physical meetings, and the purpose of this is to get to know you personally.” I grinned at him. “So, why have you come to see me?”

“Your website was intriguing, but had very little detail.”

“Are there limits on how you can kill people? Or, pretend to, I mean… You can’t really stab someone…”

“I can really stab people, actually. Just not to death. I’m a well-trained medical professional; I can suture wounds and administer transfusions. There’s a reason I asked for your blood type on your intake form. If you’d like that,” I leveled him with a meaningful look, “it can be arranged.”

“So it’s always murder, then,” he said, head tipping down slightly. It seemed he wasn’t ready to talk about himself. “You wouldn’t just… arrange a death. Even if someone wanted to die peacefully.”

“I do sometimes arrange deaths,” I contested, “if that’s what my client prefers. But, even among those I do this for… nearly all of them prefer to have me there. I’ve been told my presence is comforting. It’s the usual bedside manner.”

“Sorry… What is ‘bedside manner’?” He smiled apologetically. “I’m not a native speaker.”

“Would you be upset if I said I could tell?” I smirked, hoping he would take the comment as-intended. 

He did. A rosy flush bled into his pale cheeks. His head shook, slightly.

“The accent sounds authentic,” I overexplained, while appreciating that blush—then caught myself. “A bedside manner is the affect you see in good doctors and nurses; that sense of compassion.”

He nodded. “Thank you.” 

“How do the police react to this? I can’t imagine you haven’t been questioned.”

“I have. An uncomfortable number of times. In fact, just last week, I was interrogated by the FBI.” Unstated: clearly, they didn’t find anything, or else I wouldn’t be here.

The man processed my unstated words just as though I’d said them aloud. He nodded. “What did they think of you?”

“Most of them were confused. Heavy BDSM like this is quite outside their typical mundane purview, so I’m used to looks of disgust. But I don’t always get those. Sometimes, I awaken something in people. One of the first men to investigate me is now a repeat customer.”

“Really.”

I shrugged. “This is a surprisingly common fantasy. What’s uncommon is admitting to it.”

“‘Fantasy’,” he repeated after me. “So, this is a sex thing.”

“Some of my clients do get off on it,” I replied equivocally. “But that’s not my primary purpose. I don’t have sex while doing this.” 

He nodded slowly. Glanced up at me, briefly—and in that moment I thought he might ask me how much I would charge to fuck him. I was of half a mind to tell him I’d do it for free. But he didn’t say that. In fact, he didn’t say anything. He just looked at me, a glossy sadness in his dark eyes, and was silent.

That was too much not to ask after—and this was, after all, meant to be his interview. “You’ve been asking me a lot of questions,” I said. “While that is a common response to nerves, I didn’t bring you here to talk about myself. I brought you here to learn about you. So, tell me. Why are you here?”

He flinched immediately, crossing his arms to close himself off. Staring down at the coffee table, or the reflections of blue-tinted ceiling lights on its glossy black surface, he started to rock back and forth. He remained this way for some time. I watched as his breathing grew labored, as his facial muscles twitched through the mask of calm. Eventually, he said, “I’m sorry.” His voice was weak, labored. “This is an… emotional subject.”

“That’s completely understandable,” I said, in my best therapy voice. “Take your time.”

“One reason is, I feel that my life is… a loop. The same day repeats over and over again. I am Sisyphus. I want something to change, I want something different to happen. Another reason… I am afraid of everything. Every little thing that happens in my life scares me. I don’t have a phobia of being murdered, specifically, but…”

I nodded understandingly. “You feel like going through something so dramatic could put the rest of it into perspective.”

He pursed his lips, and for a moment I thought he was going to correct me, but it quickly became clear his mind was somewhere else entirely. I waited, allowing him to think, but also glanced at the dim digital clock at the far end of the table. 8:49. We had only eleven minutes left. After a long silence, I asked leadingly, “Anything else…?” 

“I’m lonely,” he replied. 

I waited, once again, for him to elaborate. But as the long seconds passed, it became clear he wasn’t going to.

Finally, he looked up pleadingly. “Are those common reasons?”

“Yes,” I replied instantly. Both because it was true, and because I wanted to offer this young man some closure; a sense that he wasn’t alone. “All of those are common. Especially loneliness.”

I’d hoped that this comment would invite him to explain more, but his reticence was impenetrable. He just looked at me, patiently, like a student awaiting instruction from his teacher. 

So I took the role assigned to me, and explained. “It’s much the same way a lot of people confuse love with sex, and try to sate their loneliness with prostitutes. Many people confuse this relationship with something more.”

“There is something very intimate about violence,” he said, completing my thought.

I tried to look into his eyes, but he wasn’t looking anywhere near me. “Yes,” I said, my voice sounding distant even to my own ears. “There is.” 

“We’re nearly out of time,” I said, “but I have one more question I need to ask you before we wrap up, for now.”

“Hm?” he asked, looking up at me.

“If you had a choice…” I lowered my voice. “How would you like to die?”

He drew in a deep breath; tension hardened his features. A thin line of brightness appeared at the edge of his eyelids. “I…” he started—then he blinked, erasing the highlight along with his tears. His voice steeled. “I’ve always been partial to being strangled.” He was staring directly into my eyes, making me feel oddly exposed. “But also, I would like to give you some… creative freedom.”

It was my turn to break eye contact, this time. I glanced out the window, and imagined what that might entail. “Creative freedom…” I echoed his words. “I’ll think about that.” 

He nodded, acknowledgement plus approval.

I stood up, and ushered him towards the exit. “It’s been very nice talking with you,” I said, slathering on the charm even though I didn’t need to. “I appreciate your time.”

“Thank you,” he replied, sliding his hands into his pockets. He stared at the floor in front of him as he walked, as though he were expecting someone to trip him.

I stared all the while at his pale throat, envisioning my hands wrapped around it. 

We reached the door. “I’ll contact you again shortly,” I said, one hand on the door handle and the other in my pocket, so he wasn’t tempted to try shaking my hand. “Until next time, take care.”

“I will,” he said as he left. When he was out of my office, he turned around and offered me a tentative smile. “Have a good day.”

I didn’t show how much I was taken aback by his innocent kindness—or at least, I tried my best not to. I simply smiled, and said, “You too.”

[coughsyrep]

Fluffernutter Sandwich

Summary: Natasha is shot during a mission, and you are the surgeon that tends to her. Afterwards, upon seeing her in a distressed state despite the procedure going well, you also tend to Wanda.

Chapter 3

2592 words

Link to AO3 if you prefer that format:

Fluffernutter Sandwich - Chapter 3 - traviswrites - Marvel Cinematic Universe [Archive of Our Own]

If you'd prefer to read it here:

Your week is filled with reviewing imaging tests, spending hours in the operating room, and writing report after report for your higher ups. You were, to put it simply, utterly exhausted, but you found a reprieve in the group chat that Natasha had made between you, Wanda and herself. The moments where you found peace between surgeries were always on your phone, smiling as they carried on conversations as if you hadn’t spent the last six hours trying to save a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent after they suffered from a collapsed lung.

“Doctor!” You quickly pocket your phone, turning to the nurse who was running towards you. “We have an epidural hematoma due to due a blunt force trauma, you’re needed in the O.R. immediately.” You immediately follow her, grabbing your personal protective equipment the second you get into the preparation room. There’s loud shouting from the other room, the machines beeping erratically telling you that the patient was crashing. You push your way into the room, the others making way as you observe your surroundings.

“Let’s stabilize him quickly, then begin a craniotomy. Someone bring me the CT scan that shows the location of the bleed.” As nurses and anesthesiologists rush around you, this time much quieter, you examine the tablet that is held in front of you, scalpel in hand, and place it on the agent’s scalp, applying pressure as you plan how you’ll approach the surgery.

-

-

You sigh as you sit back, eyes glancing over the report that you had just finished on the patient with the traumatic brain injury. You can feel the drowsiness taking over now that your last task of the day is officially over and the surgeons scheduled to relieve you are now able to handle everything on their own, not even the bright blue light of the screen able to stave off your grogginess. You glance at the clock as you hit send on the report, groaning when you realize that you had worked eight hours over your scheduled shift, all because of a surprise attack that had occurred when S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were scoping out a factory that they had presumed was abandoned by Hydra. Despite your heavy eyelids that were threatening to drop you stand, stumbling your way to the parking structure. You try to focus on the footsteps around you, letting the loud slap of tennis shoes on linoleum keep you as awake as possible, but don’t realize that one set that seemed to be hurried were getting louder until you felt a hand on your arm.

“Easy dorogaya,” Natasha says when you turn quickly, her eyes scanning over you quickly as she frowned. “How long have you been awake?”

“I think, uhm…” You look down at your watch, but the numbers become fuzzy and you decide to just shrug instead. “There was an emergency that came up. A few actually.” Natasha nods, sighing through her nose.

“I know, I’m about to head out to deal with that issue. But you,” she takes the keys out of your hand before you have a chance to pull them back, “are in no condition to be driving.” You roll your eyes, but it’s the only resistance you give, as you’re too exhausted to fight anymore. The teasing smirk she gave when she took them from your hand dropped, her brows furrowed as she took in your state again, putting an arm around you and turning you back towards their living quarters. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you call Wanda down here?” She puts one of your arms over her shoulders as F.R.I.D.A.Y. confirms that Wanda was on the way, helping you keep your balance until a door at the end of the doorway crashes open.

“What happened?” Wanda’s eyes are wild as they scan over you, panic setting in until Natasha shushes her, gesturing for her to take you.

“She got overworked, and is in no condition to drive.” You scoff, though behind your drooping eyelids you don’t notice her raised eyebrow.

“I’m fine,” you mutter, leaning heavily against Wanda once you’re shifted to her, “I just need a coffee.” Silence fills the air for a moment, and when you glance over you can see both of their eyes are red before they both blink, Wanda nodding before looking over at you with a sweet smile.

“Why don’t we get you to our bedroom, and I’ll grab you something to drink there?” You nod drowsily, and Natasha leans in to kiss Wanda before surprising you with a kiss to your temple, turning and taking off to the quinjet hangar. A hand on the small of your back guides you away, Wanda’s magic opening any doors that were in your way. She doesn’t speak as she holds you up in the elevator, only slowing as you two reach an unmarked door.

“Through here, detka,” she says quietly, walking backwards with her hands on your hips as she guides you to a massive bed. “Have a seat, and I’ll bring you a drink.” You nod, doing as she says without resistance, but the moment you feel the softness of the mattress you can’t help but relax even more, laying back with a sigh. The last things you remember are the feelings of your shoes being removed, a kiss on your forehead, and quiet voices coming from a television in the room before you fully sink into unconsciousness.

-

-

When the sun woke you up rather than your alarm, you sit up with a panic. It only increases when you don’t see your alarm clock on your side table, or even your side table for that matter. You nearly jump out of your skin when something brushes your hand, swallowing hard when you see Natasha leaning over a still-asleep Wanda with concern in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you immediately whisper, and Natasha shakes her head, sitting up and stretching her arms over her head. The sleeves of her over-sized tee shirt fall down, letting you see the entirety of her toned arms, and you look away as heat rises to your cheeks. A chuckle lets you know that she notices your flustered state, and quiet footsteps pad around the bed, her sitting on the side next to you. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Neither of us had a problem with you staying over,” she interrupts, laying her hand on top of yours this time. “And you would’ve been a hazard on the road. Really, we were just looking out for the citizens.” You bump your shoulder into hers playfully as she grins at you, leaning into her touch when she pushes a strand of hair away from your face. “Now, what to do today?”

“I’ve got…” You look down at your watch, cursing quietly as you stand up, “…work. I’m late for work, I need to go!”

“You’ve had a schedule change.” You look at her, brows furrowed as she crosses her legs, leaning back on her hands. “I spoke to Agent Hill, and she agreed that you needed a break after tending to so many agents yesterday.” Your jaw drops, shaking your head as you start to argue but stop when she clicks her tongue. “Most of the agents will be on base today anyways. After the shit show that was yesterday, Fury decided that we needed to gather more intelligence on the locations of Hydra bases rather than rush in. The surgeons working today will be fine on their own.”

“…So we can do anything today?” Natasha hums, giving a hum and smirk as you bite your bottom lip, trying to think. “What about a date? Outside of the compound?”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” her teeth flash as she leans forwards, elbows on her knees. “Where would you like to go?”

“A cafe.” You both look at where the groggy voice came from, Wanda rolling over onto her side with a sigh. “I need coffee.” You can’t help but giggle at her antics, earning a warm smile from her before her eyes shut again.

“A coffee date it is then.” Natasha stands, walking over to the dresser. “If you want you can drop by your place to change, and we can pick you up from there? As soon as someone,” she shoots a glare at Wanda, who whines at her, “decides to get up.” She pulls your keys out from the dresser she was standing in front of, handing them over to you.

“That sounds perfect.” You nod, letting yourself out, but not before you glance over to see Natasha pick Wanda out of bed, Wanda complaining as she tucks her head into Natasha’s neck. You smile at their dynamic, closing the door quietly as you leave.

-

-

Wanda smirks next to you, her eyes now bright thanks to the latte that she was sipping on. Natasha also watches you, and although she has a passive look on her face you can see the amusement that she was trying to hide as you try to even out your breathing.

“You literally slept in our bed, and you’re afraid of a little date?” You glance at the man in a suit a table over, though he seems to enthralled with whatever’s on his phone to be paying attention to the three of you. Wanda giggles at your reaction, gently bumping your shoulder with hers to bring your attention back to them.

“We just want to learn a little bit about you,” Natasha says, leaning forward and crossing her arms on the table. “There’s no pressure for anything else.”

“Especially since we’ve all already made out,” Wanda murmurs, wincing when Natasha kicks her under the table. “Sorry, I’ll be good.” But when Natasha looks back at you she gives a subtle shake of her head, biting her lip to hold back a laugh when you readjust in your seat. You clear your throat, fingers fidgeting with the lid on the coffee cup.

“What do you want to know?” Natasha shrugs and Wanda tilts her head, her smile now gentle when she hears the anxiety in your voice.

“For now, the basics. We already know your food preferences, and now your coffee order. What else do you have to share, dorogaya?” And so for the next half hour you do so, with them joining in at certain parts and you couldn’t help but relax despite the caffeine that was coursing through you. It felt natural with them once your mind settled down, easy in a way that you had never experienced even with the occasional bantering.

“I just don’t understand how anyone’s favorite animal could be anything other than an owl,” Wanda says, trying to balance her cup on its rim as Natasha rolls her eyes.

“That’s very stereotypically-witchy of you, love.” Wanda crinkles her nose at her before turning back to you, cup forgotten about as she leans forwards, her hands holding her chin up as her elbows sit on the table. She opens her mouth only to pause at a familiar voice.

“I might be biased, but I’m partial to hawks.” Wanda rolls her eyes, her playful demeanor dropping slightly as Natasha groans, Clint walking over and stealing a chair by her.

“Clint, the compound better be burning down or I’m going to kick your ass.” He chuckles, leaning on the back two legs of the chair and glances at you, his eyes glinting with curiosity.

“Is this the one that you two won’t stop talking about?” Wanda’s coffee cup suddenly flies across the table at him, red magic around it, but he easily catches it with a raised eyebrow. “Wow, so defensive. Do you know the impact you’ve made on these two?” You look away when he tries to catch your gaze again, only relaxing slightly when you feel Wanda’s hand on your thigh.

“What do you want, Barton?”

“Well, I’m on a grocery run. Apparently someone’s been using all of the peanut butter and…” he pulls out a sheet of paper, squinting at it, “…marshmallow fluff? Who even uses marshmallow fluff?” Both you and Natasha look at Wanda, who looks away sheepishly as she slides down in her seat. “But I saw you three and thought I’d come say hi.”

“Okay, hi, now leave.” He rolls his eyes at Natasha, standing with his hands raised.

“Alright, alright. I’ll meet you guys back at the compound after I buy this stuff for whatever weirdo needs it.” You sit up straighter, and can hear Natasha whisper ”uh oh” before you stand, blocking his path.

“Weirdo? Has literally none of your team heard of a fluffernutter?” He gives you a confused look, and when you turn to Natasha and Wanda they just shrug their shoulders. You give an exasperated groan, rubbing a hand down your face. “Simply unacceptable. As soon as we get back, you’re trying one.” You sit with a huff, crossing your arms over your chest and pouting. You can see Natasha glancing up at Clint, but don’t expect Wanda’s lips suddenly on yours. The kiss was quick, but was enough to make you smile as she pulls away, a matching one on her.

“That’s better, detka,” she murmurs, her smile only growing as you clear your throat, shuffling in your seat, and Natasha shoots you an amused look as Clint walks out the door. She picks up her empty cup, getting up and offering you a hand.

“What do you say we beat him there?”

-

-

Just as you did with Natasha and Wanda, you watch Clint expectantly as he holds the fluffernutter. But rather than the apprehension that the other two showed, he simply sighed, taking a bite and rolling his eyes.

“What? What does that mean?” You lean forward, squinting your eyes at him, and he shrugs.

“It’s just something I’d expect my…” he glances at Natasha before shaking his head, “…it seems like something for kids.”

“For kids?” You shake your head, jaw dropped in exasperation as he tries to hold back a laugh.

“Yeah, it’s just really sweet. It’s not bad, but it’s not like it’s revolutionary.” You place your head in you hands as he sets it on the plate, not noticing the red magic that immediately starts dragging it away from him.

“Not rev… this man’s taste buds are broken.” He finally laughs at that, standing and walking away towards the doors towards the living quarters. “No, don’t go! You just need to try more, here- Wanda!” She looks up, already having eaten half of the sandwich and gives you a grin that tells you that she didn’t feel guilty at all.

“Dorogaya,” you hear whispered in your ear, and turn to see that Natasha had gotten closer to you, one of her hands now lying on your hip, “I think you need to let him go.” You pout at her, though lean back into her front when her arm sneaks around your front. “Come on, let’s go watch a movie. I convinced Tony to let us continue using the projector.” Her lips find your cheek and you sigh happily, making Wanda look up and smile at you two. She stands as well, leaning forward to kiss your other cheek, and you giggle when you see the marshmallow on her lips when she pulls back.

“Did you get that on my cheek?” She tilts her head, fluttering her eyelashes innocently until she laughs as well, Natasha giving an amused huff as she pulls you closer. And in this moment, you can’t imagine anywhere else you’d rather be.

[salemwritesxx]

𝓽𝓸𝓰𝓮𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻.

𝕋 𝕒 𝕜 𝕒 𝕞 𝕚  𝕂 𝕖 𝕚 𝕘 𝕠  |  ℍ 𝕒 𝕨 𝕜 𝕤

     ⇴ male reader      ⇴ all characters are depicted as [18]+

↳ request: Can you write a story where pregnant hawks goes into labor and gives birth? I just wanna know the whole process for him and what he would be feeling

↣ rating: mature ↣ warnings: male pregnancy, c-section surgery

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“[Your.last.name]-san, we really need to prepare-“

“Just 5 more minutes! Pleas-“, though being interrupted by another contraction made it hard to talk.

His legs and arms were shaking as he was leaning against the bed, trying to breath like he was taught to. Hawks’ wings losing small fluffy, red feathers all over the hospital floor with how nervous and in pain he was.

“He’ll be here soon… Just a little…”

And even though the nurse didn’t look too happy and rather concerned, she nodded again and left the room. She could give him a little bit more time, but not much…

Grabbing the phone, Hawks called you again, yet, once again, you didn’t pick up. With a whine, he threw the phone back onto the bed. Beads of sweat trickling over his forehead and dropping onto the sheets as another contraction made him wince and quietly whimper.

God, he was going to kill you if you wouldn’t come here soon!

Though, before he could throw even more curse words at you, the door opened and a familiar face made his heart jump. Just like that, he broke down with a sob. It was unusual for Keigo to cry, but seeing you finally here was just too much. The situation was so overwhelming. He was about to get surgery to meet your new baby and then-

But, as you rushed to his side and hugged him, he just snuggled into you. Everything already forgotten as he melted into your arms.

“It took too long!”, he whined and sobbed, another contraction making him wince.

“I know, I’m sorry, Baby. But I’m here now. I’m here.”, you reassured him, before finally calling the nurse once more.

It was time to deliver your baby girl.

-

Watching as you stayed back as he rolled into the OR was hard. But Keigo knew it was only for a few minutes before he was going to see you again. With a little bit of help from a nurse, he stood up from the bed and sat down onto the operating table.

Sitting there hunched over, he hugged a pillow as a nurse held his shoulders. Another nurse softly, but firmly, pushed his wings to the side. A small hiss escaped his throat as they started the lidocaine shots. Four altogether. They were pretty painful, even though he was used to getting beat up as a hero, it still stung and burned. Like that, Keigo had to breathe through it, not even able to react to any of the attempts the nurse made to try and distract him from the pain by trying some small talk.

Thankfully, he did not feel the spinal block anymore due to the lidocaine kicking in almost immediately. At that point though, everything happened so fast as he had to bring his legs up onto the operating table before he completely lost any feeling whatsoever in them because of the spinal anesthesia.

With a pillow under his head and soft blankets to keep him warm, as well as his wings being tucked away comfortably, he laid there for a few minutes until he got his catheter. And then, once that was over, they put the sterile curtain up and he finally saw you again.

As you sat down besides Hawks’ head with the appropriate attire to be in the operating room, he immediately searched for your hand, hence you took and squeezed it gently.

“You okay, Shortcake?”, you kissed the back of his hand.

He just nodded while looking around the sterile room once again. The bright lights and stark walls were a little daunting. And even though he wasn’t cold or that scared, just nervous and intimidated, Hawks couldn’t stop shaking.

Though, thankfully, the anesthesiologist calmed both of your minds when they said it was a side effect from the anesthesia. So, you just squeezed his hand more and kissed his little fingers over and over again.

“I love, Baby, you’re amazing.”, reaching out your other hand, you softly wiped a wet strand of hair from his forehead.

“You’re doing so good. I’m so proud of you, Kei.”

And then, with one last check of his name and birthday, they started. Immediately, Hawks felt tugging and pulling and a lot of pressure. Nothing the anesthesiologist hadn’t told him beforehand, but it was still a weird feeling. As if random people were grabbing his baby bump and just pulling it side to side. Not painful, but very strange nonetheless.

“You’re so amazing, Shortcake. We will meet our little baby girl soon. I’m so excited.”

A crooked, but genuine smile appeared as he sniffled and nodded lightly.

“Me too.”

He was so grateful that you were there. Kei knew he couldn’t have done it without you, even if they probably would have forced him in the end if you wouldn’t have made it in time. But now he didn’t need to worry about that anymore. You were there, holding his hand and being with him while something amazing and almost… surreal was going on down there. Like shit… You were going to meet your little chicken nugget in a few minutes!

The anesthesiologist checked in here and there, making sure Hawks was still doing fine. Which, thankfully, he was. He didn’t feel any pain, just lots of pressure. And his nerves had calmed down to a point where he didn’t feel sick anymore.

“Okay, Baby’s coming out now!”, the doctor in charge suddenly said, hence you squeezed his hand a little tighter.

With just that sentence alone Hawks’ nervousness peaked once again. His emotions all over the place once more. He took a deep breath and grabbed your hand really hard. Though all he could feel was the pressure and before he could really realize what was happening, they lifted your baby up into the air. That’s when you could both see her for the first time. Immediately, he had to swallow his sob as he watched his little girl.

One glance to you was also enough to make him want to cry out of happiness. Your own eyes were glazed as you tried to hold back tears, while a big, happy smile appeared on your face.

“[Your.name]…”, Keigo barely sniffled your name.

“You did amazing, Baby. So amazing.”, you both looked to the side to the small table as they got some fluids out of her lungs and stomach, nothing serious thankfully, just to double-check. The crying of her making his heart ache, because all he wanted to do was grab her and love her already.

Fortunately, the table was only a few meters away, hence he could watch them all the time as they cleaned and weighed your baby. And after just a few minutes, a nurse brought the swaddled girl over and that’s when he could finally hold her for the first time.

That certainly was the most magical moment. With you by his side, the baby on his chest, it was intimate and beautiful.

“Well, she is just as tiny as her Daddy, huh?”, you chuckled and kissed his forehead while softly caressing her small cheek.

Hawks could just nod and smile, before he looked up and whispered “I love you.” with tears in his eyes.

“I love you, too.”, you mumbled back and pecked his lips.

Even though he didn’t want to let go, a nurse gently pulled you away from him together with your little girl.

“Everything will be over soon.”, you reassured him one last time, before you walked out and into the hospital room he had been assigned to.

And while you had your little one-on-one moment with your baby, Hawks was nervously waiting for it to end as they closed his wound and got him situated again.

It took almost 40 minutes where he was alone in the operating room and just craving to be by your side and hold his baby, that he couldn’t help but cry in the middle of it. All of this was a very emotional experience. It was an emotional rollercoaster, really.

Though, when he was laying naked and vulnerable on the hospital bed again, as they had stripped him of the hospital gown completely, he finally came out of the operating room and into his assigned room. Covered in warm blankets to keep his small, yet so incredibly strong body warm. His mood instantly better when he saw you sitting on a chair and holding your baby girl.

You stood up immediately and walked over once he was ready and the nurses left you alone for just a few moments. Softly placing the little one onto his naked chest, Hawks held her again in a tight, yet gentle grip, as if he never wanted to let go again.

He was groggy, but so happy. The selfie you took showed you both beaming with happiness. A photo you would forever treasure.

“She is beautiful.”

“She is. Our sweet little Ava.”, you whispered back and kissed his forehead.

“You are really… the most amazing man I know, Kei. I love you so much.”

And as he grinned from ear to ear with how happy he was, his golden eyes filled with tears and shimmered as he whispered those love-filled words back. So incredibly thankful that everything turned out alright and he could hold Ava in his arms and have you by his side now.

He knew it would get tough from here on out. Not only because he had to recover from this big surgery, which meant you had to take care of Ava almost alone in the first few weeks, (which was pretty hard for him, because he wasn’t someone to just lay down and let everyone serve him), but also because family life was going to be so new. Yet, he was also excited. To experience this with you, because he could have not wanted any other man by his side right now, than you.

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

@salemwritesxx || do not repost, edit, modify or translate my works

⇻ salem.talks: this request came in like two days ago? and yeah like i said, i saw it and knew i had to write it! i loved it! such an intimate moment with our birb boy is just lovely, no? 💌 and i have lots of fun finding names for the baby that have something to do with birds or flying or something lmao

[hogwartsmarvelmommy]

In this together

A Harry Hollland fic

One more (chapter thirteen)

Warnings: descriptions of birth and pregnancy, pain, surgery, lots of fluff :)

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist

Word count: 2.8k

A/n: sorry this took so long. I was going through it 🙃

Last part / next part

There are a few times in life where things slow down drastically, and become Crystal clear.

Usually those instances are big life changing things, and they put things into perspective.

One for Harry in particular was the day of his deceased fiance's autopsy. It was bad enough she had died, but to learn of the death of his unborn child, well it made him bitter and mad at the world, but it also made him realize how badly he had wanted a family. He didn't care that he was young, and his dreams were big, he knew he could make it work, as soon as he found the right person, of course.

So he decided to wait, and that's when you had stumbled into his life, sweeping him right off his feet.

He wasn't sure how fate had lined up perfectly enough to have had the two of you meet, or how he just happened to be a drunken fool and get you pregnant the first time he stuck it in you.

But as he sat there in the hospital beside you, holding your hand as they inserted an overly large needle into your spine, or at least that's where it looked like they were putting it, he realized he never wanted anyone else. You were it. The sun. The moon. The stars. The whole sky and beyond. You were the one.

"Sir?" The nurse repeated bringing Harry out of his thoughts.

"I'm sorry?" He asked as he glanced away from where the anesthesiologist had just wrapped up with the epidural.

"Would you like to help your wife lay back and get comfortable?" She asked with a soft smile.

Harry nodded as he took your arm and helped you lay back onto the small mound of pillows on the hospital bed. "How are you feeling baby?" He asked you quietly.

"Better," you responded, "pains is not so bad anymore," you admitted.

He leaned in, kissing your head and stroking your sweat-dampened hair. He would curse himself later for not finding you in the trailer sooner, but for right now he just wanted to hold you and comfort you.

"Okay momma," the nurse said as she sat between your legs with her hospital gear on. "Most first time moms have time, but I'm afraid you do not, we need to start pushing, the baby is crowning and you're fully dilated," she explained.

"Already?" Harry asked, shocked.

The nurse nodded as she got to her feet. "I'm going to have dad hold one leg and Michelle here is going to hold your other one, and when you feel the next contraction I'm going to have you bear down and push, can you do that for me?" The nurse asked you as she adjusted the bed pulling up the stirrups and folding the end of the table down.

You gave a slight nod as you began to adjust yourself. The door to the room swung open. "I'm here, sorry, someone got us lost," Ruby announced as she came in with clothes that didn't quite look like hers, throwing a glare behind her.

"I did not get us lost, you got your shirt lost, don't blame me," Sam Chuckled as he followed quickly into the room behind her.

"Who's fault was that?" She demanded.

"Yours," Sam chuckled as he rounded the bed to the opposite side of Harry, "hi my future sister in law, your looking lovely," he teased as he kissed your forehead. "Twin," he flashed a smile to Harry.

"I have so many questions," Harry admitted as he looked between the two of them.

"Where did you lose your shirt?" You asked Ruby, curious as to why she had on whatever it was she was wearing.

"Oh, um, in the woods," she admitted.

"Why was your shirt off in the woods?" Harry wondered, as he glanced between the two of them curiously.

"Because she couldn't wait till we were back at her house to get naked," Sam chuckled from the top of the hospital bed.

"Sam!" Ruby protested, shooting him a glare.

"What?" He raised his hands in defense, "they're going to find out at some point we're screwing, why not now?" He quipped with a wink.

"you are sleeping together?" You asked as you felt a contraction.

"Ok, grab her legs please," the nurse instructed as Harry grabbed one and Ruby came up to your side holding the other.

"Don't- think- this- gets- you- out- of- an- answer-" you warned between breaths.

"Yeah, yeah," Ruby chuckled, "how bout once JRS out we revisit this conversation" she suggested as you felt another contraction.

"Ok mamma, bear down," she encouraged.

And you did.

And it hurt.

Dear God did it hurt.

And it continued to hurt, every time for the next two hours.

Excruciating pain.

Like you were being split in half, with the promise of a cute baby at the end.

"I can't," you cried as you let your head fall to the bed, soaked with sweat and tears.

"You can," Harry encouraged with a kiss to your head.

"Just one more," the nurse who you had learned was named Nancy.

"You have been saying that for an hour-AHHH" you cried out.

"That's it momma," nancy praised, "one more,"

This time, when you pushed it felt relieving, and then you heard it. The whimpering of a baby, the soft beautiful sounds of your baby. "Here you go," Nancy swooned as she placed the little baby on your chest who had the most hair you had ever seen on a baby.

"Hi there," you cried, as you stroked his plump little cheek.

"Ok, dad, you want to cut this," Michelle the other nurse asked, as she let Harry snip the umbilical cord before taking the baby over to get weighed.

You felt releived that it was over until you felt another contraction, exactly like the ones before.

"Oh," Nancy said suddenly,making your eyes shoot to her in a panic.

"Oh?" You demanded, searching her face.

"Ok momma, we have to push some more," she announced.

"What?!" You cried. "Why?" You were beyond exhausted and the last thing you wanted to do was keep pushing, you knew that getting the placenta out was a thing but everything you had read on that made it seem as though it wouldn't feel like this.

"Because baby number two isn't going to come out by themselves," she said, shocking the socks right off your feet.

"Baby number two?" You Harry, Ruby, and Sam all exclaimed at the same time.

"Surprise," nancy joked, as she settled back down between your hiked up legs.

"Your joking right," you chuckled nervously as a contraction ripped through your body, the epidural you had gotten barely even helping with the pain at this point. "AHHH," you groaned as you pushed your head falling back as soon as it was over.

You heard a sniffling and you looked over to see Sam standing at the baby bassinet as the nurses wrapped up your little boy, with tears streaming down his face. "Sam?" You asked frantically, worried that something was wrong. He glanced up to you before wiping his nose and walking back over to your head (where he had been standing the better part of the afternoon) and pressing his lips to your forehead.

"You did so good Y/N, he's perfect, he's so perfect," he sobbed. You couldn't help but chuckle at your boyfriend's brother, what a softie he was.

"Ok, one last push, momma, were so close," Nancy praised as you felt another contraction, it was the same relief as before you heard a louder cry, unlike the soft whimpers from before.

"She's got a set of lungs on her," Nancy chuckled as she reached up, placing the little girl onto your chest.

"Girl?" You mumbled as you held the little girl against your chest in awe. She was perfect, just like the little boy before her.

You smiled as your eyes drifted shut. The sound becomes silent behind your shit eyes aside from one panicked sound from Harry. "Y/n??"

Your eyes shot open to a bright light as you glanced around the room to find Harry's watchful worried gaze on you. "Wha- what happened?" You asked as you went to push yourself up feeling a jolt of pain from your abdomen.

"Don't try and sit up love, I don't want you to tear the stitches," Harry told you as he approached your side and pressed his lips to your forehead.

"Stitches?" You wondered, you were so groggy and your body felt like it had been hit by a freight train.

"Mhmm," Harry sighed, grabbing a glass of water from the bedside table and bringing it to your lips for you to drink. "After little princess got out, you passed out, and I thought it was from the exhaustion, but they said you were hemorrhaging from, the placenta, or something to do with a wound," he sighed as he ran his fingers through his curly auburn hair. "I can't exactly remember, I was too busy panicking and trying to make sure the babies were okay and-"

"The babies!" You interrupted, trying again to sit up. Harry helped you and propped another pillow behind your back.

"There in the nursery, Sam and Ruby are watching them like hawks through the glass.' He chuckled. You felt your eyes beginning to water as you stared at Harry. "Hey," he soothes, placing his hand against your cheek. "What is it?" He Wondered.

You felt your lip beginning to quiver as you stared at your boyfriend, the father of your not one, but two children. "Thank you," you forced out, behind silent sobs.

"You have nothing to thank me for my love, if anything I should be thanking you. You just did the unthinkable, almost died, and the first thing your worried about is thanking me?" He chuckled as he cradled your face in his hands, "I love you so much y/n y/l/n, and I'm so proud of you," he leaned forward pressing his lips to yours gently as he kissed you with promise.

You let yourself sob into Harry's chest while he held you, being mindful of the fact that you had to be careful to not hurt yourself. You were tired, your body was sore, your emotions were all over the place and you didn't know how to feel.

After being examined by two doctors and three nurses, they agreed to bring the babies up to the room so long as you agreed to not hold them by yourself.

As soon as the door opened to your hospital room your eyes shot up hopeful to see your little babies, and luckily for you that's exactly who it was. A nurse wheeled in a hospital grade bassinet where both the babies were laid in, followed quickly by Sam and Ruby. True to Harry's word, it seemed like they were not letting them out of there sight.

As soon as the bassinet was at your bedside you could see the two perfect faces Infront of you. Perfect little button noses, full lips, fat cheeks, and the baby with a blue beanie on had an identical mark to the one Harry had on his upper lip. "Oh my god," you cried as your fingers stroked both of their cheeks gently. "We did this?" You asked Harry, asounded that anything that perfect could be the result of a mistake. But maybe the truth was, it wasn't a mistake, sure you were drunk, and the whole situation could have been handled better, but sitting here, alongside Harry, your two babies and best friends, none of it felt wrong.

This.

This was your family.

This was where you had always belonged.

"Did you call your mum?" You asked suddenly, all too aware of the family drama that had been transpiring over the last few weeks.

Harry shook his head. "I wanted you to get to see them and hold them before anyone else," he admitted.

There was a giggle from where Ruby and Sam stood and you turned to see Sam pouting. "What?" You wondered.

"Harry told Sam he couldn't hold them either, so he has been Impatiently waiting," she chuckled, leaning over and kissing his cheek which seemed to brighten him up as well as turn his cheeks a shade of red.

"Well I can't hold them because of my stitches," you explained as you patted the side of the bed next to you, "but you can sit next to me and help me hold one," you offered.

Sam's face erupelted in a massive grin before he bounded over seeming like a kid and a candy shop.

"Prince or princess?" He asked you as he slotted himself in the tiny space of the hospital bed.

"Surprise me," you said with a smile.

Not a second later Sam was assisting you in holding your little boy. "What's his name?" Sam wondered, "Harry wouldn't spill the beans," he shot his twin a glare, who ignored him completely, having picked up your daughter.

"Tobias," you told him with a smile, "Tobias Holland,"

"And her?" Ruby asked, gesturing to where Harry stood rocking the small girl.

"Tabitha," Harry said, not looking up. "Her name is Tabitha,"

"Tobias and Tabitha? That's so cuteeee!" Ruby squealed as she took multiple pictures of the scene laid out in front of her.

Sam leaned over and kissed the top of your head. "You did good," he sighed looking down at Tobias, "and not just with these two. You saved him Y/n. Thank you." You glanced up to see the tears shimmering in his eyes and couldn't help your own from falling.

The next two days spent in the hospital were a blur.

The entire Holland family came and went multiple times, excluding Dom who claimed 'he didn't feel welcome,' even after Harry had tried to reach out to him.

By the time you were discharged, you were more than ready to be back home.

The nurse who had been assigned to your hospital visit pushed you in a wheelchair as both Sam and Harry carried the car seats leaving ruby with all the bags. You had insisted that you were fine to walk as they had had you walking around the halls to insure that your strength was coming back but she had told you it was policy to be wheeled down, so you gave up and accepted defeat.

You watched as Sam and Harry placed the car seats in the car before Harry assisted you into the passenger seat. "We'll follow you?" Harry asked Sam who just nodded and shot you a wicked smirk.

"Where are we following him to?" You wondered, as Harry shut the door and did his seatbelt up.

"Home," Harry said simply with a smile, before leaning over and sealing your lips in a kiss.

The drive to your apartment wasn't a long one.. or it shouldn't have been. So when you glanced up from where you had been on your phone to see you were in a neighborhood with large houses, you were confused. "Uh, Har?" You asked.

"Yes darling?" He wondered.

"Where are we?" As you asked the question, Sam's car turned into a driveway of a house with a sign out front that said sold.

"We're home," Harry said with a smile before winking at you and climbing from the car. You stared at him dumbfounded as you watched him walk around the car to your door. "Sam and Ruby are going to get the babies I want to show you the house," Harry announced as he assisted you from the car.

"I'm confused," you admitted as you walked up the steps to a bright yellow door, Harry pulled out his keys and unlocked it before pushing the door open.

Your mouth fell as you took in the sight in front of you. A beautiful open concept living area with large windows and a big fireplace. "Needs a little bit of work," Harry admitted as he pointed to a crack in the fireplace bricks, "but nothing crazy," he pulled you along to a hallway before pushing open a door that lead to a pink room, there was an archway in the wall that lead into a second room that was painted blue. "Well keep it open for right now and when they're older, we will fill in the wall so they have their own space," he told you.

You shook your head in disbelief, not only was all of your stuff already here, it seemed like this had been a well thought out plan. "When did you do this?" You wondered aloud.

"After they took you into surgery," he reached up, rubbing his neck before looking at you. "I asked Tom for some help, so I only had a little bit to do with it," he admitted coyly.

"You got us a house?" You asked.

He nodded. "I got us a house," he said.

"You got us a freakin house!" You exclaimed, throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling him in for a kiss.

He chuckled against your lips, "careful baby," he mumbled but kissed you back.

Taglist ❤️

Every fic :)

@violetlilysunshine @petesrparker @harryhollandsgirlfriend @mcushvft @elishi03 @nelebynele @sunwardsss @thollandsdarling @blue-4-55-readinglist @prancerrparkerr @thegirlintheswivelchair @mummy-milkers-pls @nobody7102 @Marvelobsessed23

@theglitterymess @delightfulmuffinclamauthor @minejungwoo @sippin-on-tea @rogertherabbitt @victoriaholland @nightlockcornucopia @thevelvetseries @todomaniac

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

For the BTHB... Villain with appendicitis?

Thank you for the ask!

Rupturing

@badthingshappenbingo

Warnings: appendectomy, fever, anxious character, painkillers, pills, vomit, anesthesia, surgery, IV, needles, refusal of medical care

~

9:01. He was a minute late.

9:05. Five minutes late.

9:15. Hero started to pace around, kicking pebbles with her foot.

9:20. She was starting to get nervous. Villain was never, ever late.

9:30. Okay, this was getting absurd.

Hero stood up, grabbed her phone, and called Villain. It rang, but never clicked.

He didn't answer.

Hero bit her lip, a nauseating pit forming in her gut.

Something was wrong. Villain was always overly stressed about time and always showed up at nine- not a second too late.

So, naturally, being the anxious, paranoid worry wort that Hero was, she went to check up on him.

Of course, Hero spent all her freetime figuring out where Villain lived if there was an instance like the current one.

Upon knocking at the beige door, that nauseous feeling overcame her again. Something was wrong.

She busted through the door and immediately the eerie silence of the home startled her. Even though Villain lived alone, there would surely be a TV playing or the dishwasher going.

Hero searched through the various rooms. It was a normal house. Quaint and small with barely any decor apart from a few spontaneously placed plants. All the walls were painted with the same, dull blue that the sky had right before a storm. It was dreary and perfectly villainous.

"Villain!" Hero called, peeking into a room she assumed to be his bedroom. Apart from a shoddily made bed, it seemed as though Villain hadn't been in there for a long time.

The next room in the hallway was a bathroom. Hero stepped in there, ignoring the horrid stench, and examined the counters. Bottles of Tylenol and Ibuprofen were scattered about. His gnawed on toothbrush was laying by the sink as water slowly dripped from the faucet.

That didn't look spectacular.

Hero stepped out of the bathroom and turned the light off before turning and walking into a large room that seemed to be the kitchen and dining room combined.

"Hey Villain! Are you home?" Hero called again, observing how badly stocked the fridge and cupboards were. Basically, the only food that Villain seemed to store was ramen and some protein powder.

"Villain!" Hero yelled, getting nervous. Based on the state of his bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen, the villain seemed to be in rough state.

Or was that just her nervous tendencies kicking in?

The next room was without doubt the living room, though with those desolate walls, one may beg to differ.

In the center of the gray room was a dark cherry wood coffee table and a small armchair. And that was it.

Except for the body strewn across the ground.

Hero bounded over to the seemingly dead corpse and rolled it over to come face to face with Villain.

"Oh my gosh!" Hero exclaimed, thrusting her fingers by his neck to check for a pulse. It was there, thump... thump... thump...

"You okay?" Hero asked, smoothing the sweaty strands of hair out of his face. Villain blearily blinked his eyes open and shook his head.

"Stomach bug," he whispered.

Hero looked down at him skeptically. No, this wasn't just a stomach bug. He was obviously in pain and was likely running a nasty fever. And he looked so incredibly tired and weak.

"How long have you been like this?" Hero asked, putting Villain's heavy head in her lap.

"M day," he groaned, gasping for breath. "Stomach hurts."

"Where?" Hero asked. Villain lightly brushed his fingers over his right side.

"Oh okay bud. I think you have a fever," Hero said, taking his temperature with her hand. It was burning and he looked so pale.

"Yeah cold," Villain agreed, nodding the tiniest nod.

"Okay buddy," Hero murmured, stroking his flushed cheek. "I think we need to go to the doctor."

She recognized the symptoms. Her sister when they were kids got sick like this and they had to take her to the hospital. Hero was too young to exactly know what was going on, only that it was serious.

But Villain shook his head, aimlessly clawing at Hero's hand.

"No doctor. No doctor," he begged, then winced, whimpered and grabbed his right side. When he looked back up at Hero, there were tears in his eyes.

"Okay we are going now," Hero stood up with Villain in a bridal carry. He protested weakly, but then stilled. Hero stopped walking to see if he was still conscious by shaking him. He groaned.

Hero loaded Villain in the back seat of her truck and buckled him in around his chest and legs so he could safetly rest.

The drive to the hospital seemed longer than what it was. Every moment she got, Hero would look behind her to peer at Villain, and everytime he was still staring at the ceiling with a dazed expression.

Finally, they arrived. Hero barely put the vehicle in park by the time she was leaping out of the door and running to Villain's side.

"Hey! Hey!" Hero called when she ran into the hospital, placing Villain on a bench. Other patients stared at her and receptionists stood up to meet her.

"Bring him into the ER," one of the receptionists said as she grabbed a stack of papers and called the doctor. Hero gathered Villain back in her arms and ran into another room.

The receptionist handed Hero the stack of papers. "Fill these in to thr best of your ability. I'm going to get the doctor."

Hero sat on the raised hospital bed with Villain resting against her shoulder. He sighed contently and nuzzled his cheek to find a perfect spot. Hero looked over at him- he was almost asleep with his whole body splayed out and limp.

Hero wrapped her arm around his shivering body and rubbed his shoulder before answering some of the paperwork.

She was able to answer most of them relatively easily, but got stumped on occupation.

She couldn't just say villainy right?

"Hero, why hello. How is your arm healing?"

Hero looked up to see the doctor sauntering into the room, his blonde hair slightly tousled with pale gray shadows under his eyes- remnants of a busy day.

"Good, good," Hero said, putting the paperwork aside.

"Is this one of your team members?" The doctor asked, running a thermometer over Villain's forehead. He frowned at the reading.

"Not exactly," Hero replied, timidly. She rubbed Villain's hair as he stirred from the cool touch of the thermometer. He near immediately fell back asleep.

The doctor's face paled. "He's a villain? Hero you know-"

"Yes, I know, but look at him Doc," she gestured her head towards Villain's sagging body.

The doctor glanced at Villain for a moment. He then said, "Yeah, he's sick. I'm thinking appendicitis, but he's a villain. The hospital is not required to treat them, unless there's an order. Order as in signed by ten, high-ranking heroes. Besides, it'll endanger our staff."

"He can't even lift his head!" Hero exclaimed. "How is he going to be a threat under anesthesia? C'mon tell me."

"He could wake up..."

"As sick as he is? Not likely."

"A MRI scan could amplify his abilities."

Suddenly Villain coughed, interrupting the conversation. He groaned before expelling his stomach's contents on the floor.

"It's okay," Hero murmured, scowling slightly at the sight, before glaring at the doctor while raising her eyebrows.

The doctor sighed. "Lay him on the bed." Hero complied, laying the villain flat on the bed, adjusting his head to rest on the pillow.

The doctor took his hand and prodded at the right side of his stomach. Villain groaned, breathing heavily.

"He's going to need emergency surgery," the doctor said, standing up and trotting to a phone. "Nurse? I need a team of anesthesiologists for an appendectomy."

Hero grabbed Villain's hand. His forehead was creased in concern as he listened and watched the doctor's erratic movements.

"Hey, it's okay. I'll be right there with you," Hero soothed him. He seemed to relax, but his muscles did not let go of their tension.

"Okay. I am going to go get ready." The doctor left.

Soon after, a couple nurses came in and hooked Villain to an IV. He flinched, watching the small needle go into his elbow.

Hero grabbed his hand and rubbed it.

A couple more people sauntered in and injected a hypodermic needle into the IV line.

"Okay Villain, count down from ten."

"Ten... nine... eight... sev...ven...si." Villain looked over at Hero with pleading eyes before they drifted shut.

A nurse put a mask over his nose and he was wheeled away.

Hero waited in the lobby, twidling her thumb and reading health magazines. Every two minutes, literally, she would look at the clock and bite her lip.

After two hours, the doctor made his appearance.

"The surgery was successful. He is waking up now, so he will be very groggy, but his vitals are good. You can take him home."

"Don't you have to monitor him."

"Come back in two weeks for a check-up."

Hero walked into the ER and to Villain's bed. His eyes were half-lidded and he barely noted Hero's presence.

"Hey buddy," Hero cooed, stroking his head. "You scared me."

Villain didn't reply, just blinked very, very slowly. Soon, his blinks became longer until he drifted off.

Nervous, Hero called for a nurse. "Why is he sleeping?" She asked.

The nurse shrugged. "The effects of anesthesia hasn't worn off yet, so he'll be in and out for a while."

Hero nodded and sat back down.

"You can take him home, you know," the nurse said. "We don't keep villains for monitoring or over-night stays."

Hero groaned and looked at the nurse. "Well you should."

"But we don't. Please take him home, he's occupying beds that could be used for more important patients."

Hero rolled her eyes, but obeyed. She picked Villain up and helped him into his jeans, but left his shirt off to not irritate the stitches. Then, she rolled him to her truck in a wheelchair.

It was nearly midnight by the time Hero got Villain to her house and changed into something comfortable. He was dozing, but every movement seemed to awake him. He was totally and completely silent, allowing Hero to tuck him on her bed before sliding in next to him.

She wrapped her arms around Villain and pulled him in tight. He drifted off to sleep instantly, and Hero was not far behind.

When Hero awoke the next morning, she was sprawled across her bed with Villain laying on her stomach. She smiled and watched the slow rise and fall of his chest before carefully removing his head to go downstairs and prepare breakfast. After a quick research, she decided to make a bowl of pudding with toast and avacado.

Villain came down the stairs stiffly, groaning with each step, just as Hero put the bread in the toaster. She looked up just in time to see him lean heavily against the wall.

"What are you doing?" Hero scolded and gently led him to the couch to sit on.

"Heard you- engh," Villain winced, holding his side. "Downstairs."

"Okay," Hero sighed. "Do you remember anything from yesterday?"

"No not really. Just you and the hospital. Everything else is just a blank."

"You had an appendectomy," Hero explained, brushing the hair out of Villain's face. He jerked back and Hero pulled away. He was so cute and vulnerable when he was out of it.

"What's that?" Villain asked, but Hero had a sense that he knew and just wanted to fill the silence up.

"Your appendix was removed." The toaster clicked, so Hero went and grabbed the food.

Villain spooned at it for awhile before putting it towards the side. His face was pale.

"Not hungry," he said.

"You gotta eat."

"No," Villain slowly laid on the couch, his body seizing with every motion. "I'm tired..."

"Yeah, you had surgery, but please eat something so I can give you some painkillers."

Villain rolled his eyes, but allowed Hero to feed him some avocado and pudding. However, by the end of it, he was too exhausted to resist Hero putting two large pills in his mouth.

Between the pain meds and fatigue, it only took a few minutes for Villain to fall sound asleep.

Hero idly ate her own pudding and stared out the window. After finishing both her's and Villain's chocolate desert, she went to do dishes.

Then she showered.

Then she playing monopoly by herself.

And then she ate lunch.

All the while waiting for Villain to regain consciousness.

He did, eventually, and very slowly.

"How are you feeling."

"Bit dizzy," Villain admitted, rubbing his eyes. "How long was I out?"

"About," Hero looked at her phone. "Five hours, give or take one."

Villain groaned and quickly murmured an apology.

"Don't be. You are still a bit feverish and just came out of surgery."

Villain closed his eyes. Hero thought he might've fallen back asleep, but then he spoke,

"Thank you for taking care of me."

Hero smiled.

[fruitcoops]

Wisdom With Age

Follow-up to Leo getting his wisdom teeth out: it’s Loops’ turn! Hope you enjoy :) Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for dental work, wisdom teeth removal, anesthesia, and surgery (mentioned)

Sirius carefully, but firmly, set his hand on Remus’ knee to stop it from bouncing. “Sorry,” Remus muttered, then immediately began worrying at the hem of his old t-shirt.

“Okay,” Sirius said under his breath, turning in his seat and taking both of Remus’ hands in his own. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

“I don’t like this,” Remus muttered as his eyes flickered up to Sirius’ face. “Honey, I really don’t like this.”

“I know, but you have to do it.”

“Why? They’re my teeth, it’s my mouth, and is it such a bad thing if I don’t want people poking around in it?” The leg started bouncing again. “I mean, humans survived for thousands of years with their wisdom teeth, and—and teeth serve a lot of very important purposes besides chewing. This could fuck up my ears, and my hearing—”

“Remus.”

He swallowed hard and clenched his jaw.

Sirius began tracing slow circles over his knuckles. “You know better than anyone why this is important, and it’s dangerous to keep them in any longer than you already have. I totally respect that you’re freaked out right now, but you’ve got to calm down. These guys do this all the time.”

“There are always exceptions.”

Yes, I know, I’ve been thinking about all those scenarios for the past two weeks. “And you won’t be one of them. How long did you spend finding this place, again?” There was a beat of silence. “Re.”

“Four hours,” he muttered.

“Exactly. You did your research.” Remus’ eyes wandered up to the clock and his grip tightened when he saw how little time was left until their appointment. Distraction, distraction—“Tell me why you chose this place.”

That got his attention. “What?”

“You spent four hours sifting through dentists’ offices online, right? Tell me why this one stood out to you.”

“Um. Well, I guess it was just a combination of things. They have really good ratings and this is where Leo got his out, which went well. He was on his feet within a week, which was impressive. The equipment is good quality and—”

“Remus Lupin?”

“Oh, fuck me.” The nurse raised her eyebrows at him, and he flushed deep red as Sirius hid a smile in his shoulder. “Sorry, sorry. Hi, that’s me. Remus Lupin. I’m…a little nervous.”

Her face softened as she walked over. “That’s perfectly normal. We have a little bit of paperwork for you to look over and then we’ll get started. Is this the person who will be driving you home?”

“That’s me. How long will it take?”

“Oh, an hour or so. Not long.” She handed Remus a pen before turning back to Sirius. “We do these procedures all the time, so there’s nothing to worry about. The surgery is quick and easy.”

Remus’ hand skidded across the page on the word ‘surgery’ and Sirius squeezed his thigh gently as he took a trembling breath. “Thank you for doing this on such short notice,” Sirius said with a smile while Remus read. “We really appreciate it.”

“Why does this have to be so important?” Remus mumbled as he signed the last page.

The nurse shrugged. “Human bodies are funny things.”

He snorted. “Tell me about it.”

“Are you a doctor?”

“I was a physical therapist for six years,” he said, handing the clipboard back to her. “Unfortunately, that means I know exactly why putting this off for so long was a bad idea.”

“I don’t know about a bad idea.” The nurse tilted her head to the side. “You still came in to do it before there were any problems, right? That seems pretty smart to me, and very brave.”

“She’s right,” Sirius said quietly, knocking their shoulders together. “You’ve got this, mon loup.”

The nurse waited patiently while he took a few deep breaths before standing up and hugging Sirius tight around the chest. “You’ll be here, right?”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He gave him a gentle kiss on the lips and the inside of his wrist. “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

The tension returned to Remus’ shoulders as he followed the nurse out of the lobby; Sirius sat down and grabbed a magazine to distract himself for the next hour.

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

Twenty minutes later, the nurse came back out. Sirius stood up immediately as fear bolted through his chest. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” she soothed, taking the seat next to his with a sigh. “There was a bit of trouble getting him to fall asleep, though.”

“Oh?” Sirius tried to keep his voice neutral as he sat down, but even he could tell it didn’t work that well.

She gave him an amused look. “Your boy is stubborn. We get nervous people all the time, but he seemed to have a personal vendetta against our anesthesiologist. The countdown usually lasts three seconds, maximum, but I made it all the way down to five before he was out.”

“But he’s okay?”

“He’s just fine.” She patted his hand.

“He’s been avoiding this for about four years now.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Hates hospitals and dentists, but still got a medical degree.” Sirius huffed. “His mom threatened to drive here from Wisconsin and drag him in by the ear if he didn’t schedule it soon.”

The nurse smiled. “You’d be surprised by how many young folks we get in here shaking in their boots. It’s really not that bad of a procedure, but all you hear about are the times it went wrong.”

Sirius hummed in agreement. “Is it normal to be nervous for him?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good.”

“Lots of people cry while they’re waiting, though I haven’t quite figured out why. Feel free to do some wailing if you think it’ll help.”

“I’ll pass, but thank you for the offer,” Sirius laughed. There were a few heartbeats of comfortable silence before he spoke again. “I don’t like the idea of him being in there all alone.”

“Oh, honey, nobody does.” She gave his hand a quick squeeze. “We always want to be there for the ones we love. Boyfriend?”

“Fiancé.”

“When’s the wedding?”

“This summer.” He smiled to himself. “I’m really excited.”

“How long have you been together?”

“We’ve known each other for six years or so, but we’ve only been dating for one.”

They chatted back and forth, and Sirius felt his nerves melt away as the conversation turned to Harry, then Regulus and Jules, until a tall man in a white coat poked his head into the lobby. “Do we have a companion for Remus Lupin in here?”

Sirius raised his hand. “That’s me.”

“Come on back, he just woke up.”

The dentist’s office smelled different than a hospital, which Sirius was grateful for. Remus wouldn’t like waking up with the scent of rubbing alcohol all around him. The walls were painted a cheerful yellow with various murals for the younger patients—each room had its own name tag with stickers.

“Remus?” The doctor knocked on the door as he opened it. “We’ve got someone here for you.”

“Hmm?” Remus blinked sleepily at them from the table; his face was puffy from anesthesia and gauze.

“Hey, Re,” Sirius said, taking his hand and rubbing it between his own. “Are you ready to go home?”

Remus squinted at him for a long moment. “Did it hurt?” he asked.

“Did what hurt?”

A smile twitched at the edges of his mouth. “When you fell from heaven. Hiya, handsome, I’m Remus.”

“Oh my fucking god.” Sirius looked back at the doctor, who was hiding his laughter in his hand.

“Here’s your aftercare sheet,” he said, pushing the wheelchair a little closer and handing Sirius a piece of paper. “Can you get him outside by yourself?”

Sirius nodded. “It might take some manhandling, but I’ll be fine.”

“Damn right, you’re fine,” Remus snorted.

“Merde,” Sirius muttered. “Alright, you shameless flirt, can you sit up by yourself?”

Remus winked at him, though it was more like a slow blink. “Might take some manhandling. What’s your name, angel?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He shrugged as Sirius helped him clamber into the wheelchair. “I need something to yell.”

“Holy shit, Re!” Sirius spluttered, nearly steering him straight into the cupboards in surprise. “You can’t just say that in the middle of a dentist’s office!”

Remus frowned and glanced around the room. “Is that where I am?”

“Yes!”

“I don’t like dentists. Or hospitals. Super fuckin’ creepy.”

“Yes, I know.” The hall was mostly empty, thank god. “You’ve told me.”

“Have we met before?” Remus stared up at him and nearly went crosseyed. “You’re being so nice to me.”

“We’ve known each other for six years.”

“Huh. I really hope we’re dating, because there’s no way I’m passing up a chance to tap that.”

“You know, Leo was incredibly sweet when his wisdom teeth got taken out,” Sirius sighed as they went down the next corridor. “He called Finn ‘pretty’ and then only wanted cuddles for a few days. You, on the other hand, were apparently so stubborn that they had to spend twenty minutes putting you to sleep, and now you’re hitting on me like a drunk frat boy.”

“I can call you pretty if you want.” Sirius stopped walking as Remus reached up to trail a surprisingly steady hand down his cheek; some of the flirty mischief was replaced by awe. “You really are beautiful. What’s your name? For real this time, I want to know.”

“Sirius.”

“Like the star.” The corners of Remus’ eyes crinkled. “Brightest one in the sky. It fits.”

“Just for that, I’m going to let you in on a secret,” Sirius said as they neared the exit.

“Oh?”

“We’re engaged.”

“What?”

[spacetimewraithwrites-archive]

Find the Word Tag Game

tagged by: taking an open tag from @drippingmoon! my words: flurry, flake, crisp, blame tagging: @zmlorenz, @ashen-crest, @drabbleitout, @pertinax--loculos, and the anesthesiologist that attended my C-section who was apparently in a band your words: ground, fake, land, start, lay

flurry (Destiny)—

The words had no sooner left Warren's mouth when the small wall collapsed and he pitched backward. With split-second reflexes, Thrive grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him away from the edge just in time.

They watched the wall hit the ground. Thrive gave Warren a stern look.

"Sorry."

But the focus already shifted elsewhere; Thrive's disconcerted gaze had zeroed in on Warren's chest. Warren glanced down and discovered that in the flurry of being rescued, the low collar of his shirt had been pulled away to reveal his scar.

Thrive's frown deepened, yet he didn't say anything, which disturbed Warren on some level he didn't have the sobriety to determine. Thrive pressed the tips of his fingers into the scar, as if he forgot it was attached to a person, and while his touch was analytical at most, Warren's reaction was not.

"Oh, man," Warren muttered as Thrive stepped closer to get a better look, the warm pads of his slender fingers drawing a shudder. "Normally, in my head, this moment turns into something really intense..."

flake layer (Meridian)—

"I think your shift's over," Warren said, glancing at the guards. "Come have a nightcap with me."

Thrive leaving his post on the throne was always a process. He had to wait until some of his attendants rushed to his side, removed his sharp crown, helped him off the dais as his cloak and cape were too heavy even for him, and removed the top layers of his ceremony. They handed them to him, bowing deeply, and he responded with a shallow, curt bow of his head.

"It's all so gaudy," Warren said as they began the trek to their bedroom. He took the crown to carry for himself, nearly slicing his fingers open on the sharp edges of the highly geometric gold piece. "I mean...I kinda love it, though."

"Feel free," Thrive muttered. "One of us should."

crisp (Destiny)—

Whatever energy Thrive had left he spent protecting himself from burning to a crisp as he entered the Earth's atmosphere in a ball of flames for the second time in his entire life. He managed to successfully alter his course a quarter of the way across the globe, and he fell several hundred miles per hour through clouds until he smashed a small crater into the top of Alaska's invading eliyi vessel using his back. The impact reverberated throughout the exterior of the ship and he had to make sure all of the bones in his top half hadn't shattered before he could open his eyes again.

None of his bones had broken—miraculously—but his shoulder injury remained open though the oozing stopped. He took a moment to sink out of his dazed state, then gingerly turned onto his front to assess his surroundings.

The cloud cover thickened enough to cause partial blindness, and gale-force winds tore through him as he got to his feet. While impressed that he could achieve precision landing as such, he didn't quite mean to land right on top of the vessel.

blame (Rebirth)—

Thrive nodded, and he took Warren's arm as the others geared up, dragging him out into the corridor, far enough away that no one could overhear. "That was reckless," he said quietly after a moment of scrutinizing his harried expression. "I don't know what came over me."

Warren grabbed the sides of his face. "Don't ever fucking scare me like that again, okay? You don't have the right or the privilege."

"I know," Thrive said again. "I'd like to blame the Emmuli, but I feel it may simply be my inability to process the stresses of this war."

[erin-bo-berin]

In The Blink Of An Eye

MASTERLIST

So, I literally wrote this at the beginning of quarantine I think? So two months ago. Not sure why it has taken so long for me to post it, but at least now its seeing the light of day. We love some daddy Spencer, but with some angst thrown in there. Hope you all enjoy. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: G (angst & fluff)

Word Count: 3,268

He had no idea how it had happened. Or how it had happened so quickly. 

Everything had been going smoothly, but of course he knew well enough that things could change so quickly, in just a blink of an eye.

•

Spencer was so excited to finally meet his son. 

After nine long months of waiting, feeling his kicks and talking to him through Y/N’s belly, he would finally be able to hold him in his arms and see him in person. He couldn’t wait.

It was 3 am when she’d woken him up. She’d awoke about an hour before to pain, figuring it was just Braxton Hicks, until she’d started timing the contractions. They steadily had gotten worse and closer together, so she knew it was time to head to the hospital.

With all of the knowledge he had, plus everything he’d read on the subject, Spencer knew it would probably be a waiting game. It took a while for a woman’s body to go through the stages of labor, sometimes even a long time. 

He was completely ready to be by her side through it all though. 

The contractions started out pretty bearable for her. She was able to talk through them and get some rest. It was the middle of the night, after all.

He had made himself a bed on the small couch in the labor and delivery room, trying to rest per her orders, but he was too anxious, too excited.

“I know you’re not sleeping over there,” she chuckled.

“I can’t help it,” he mumbled with his eyes closed, “I’m excited.”

He heard her laughter and he opened one eye to peer at her. She was sitting up in the hospital bed, clothed in a hospital gown, hair in a messy updo and no makeup on yet she looked the most beautiful he had ever seen her.

“Get some rest,” she ordered, with no room for anymore conversation.

So he did. Maybe an hour or so.

Around 5 am the doctor had come to check her. So far, she was only 3 centimeters dilated. 

More waiting ensued.

She wanted to take a walk around the hospital, so of course he obliged.

“I’m starving,” she whined, poking her belly as she walked with Spencer next to her, “Come on little man and be born already. Mommy wants to eat.”

Spencer chuckled, rubbing a hand over her tightening bump. He could tell another contraction was beginning by just how tight her stomach felt underneath his hand.

“Another contraction?”

She nodded, stopping to breathe through it. They were getting more difficult for her, but she was being such a champ.

Spencer felt awful. Seeing her in so much pain hurt him too, knowing he couldn’t do anything but just stand by and support her.

He rubbed her back, kissing her head, helping her sway a bit. Something she discovered had helped a bit with her contractions.

“See? Another one down,” he smiled, taking her hand and beginning to walk with her again when the pain had passed.

“Yeah and a million more to go,” she groaned, side eyeing him.

“Just take it one contraction at a time,” he soothed, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb, “You’re doing amazing, Y/N.”

After walking for a while, she switched to the birthing ball—which he requested for her, of course. He’d done as much reading as he could in the weeks leading up to this and knew it might help some of the pain she was in.

She sat and bounced on it for a while, chatting with him between contractions. Her spirits were high and things were going great. 

Ice chips had become her kryptonite. She was quite literally eating them like they were going out of style. At least it was keeping her hydrated.

She opened her mouth playfully, silently begging for another spoonful of ice chips which he fed her. She grinned, thanking him and took the cup from him.

“If you keep this up, you’re gonna cause a shortage of ice for this poor hospital,” Spencer said.

She stuck out her tongue jokingly and ate another spoonful. 

He would do whatever kept her comfortable and happy and if that meant more ice chips, he’d get them for her.

-

The contractions were getting worse.

Obviously, that was a good thing as labor progressed, but a bad thing for Y/N. 

She had already stated she knew her pain tolerance was low and planned on getting an epidural, but doctors wanted her to wait until she was 4 centimeters. 

She had yet to get there.

Her contractions were to the point where she’d bent over the bed, clutching the sheets, her moans and groans being muffled by the bed.

“Just breathe honey, you’re doing great.”

Spencer rubbed her back, sometimes holding her close as she clutched on to him for dear life, whimpering into his chest or neck. 

He knew as well as anyone else that it was just a part of labor, but it was hard seeing her in so much pain. If he could, he would rather suffer through it himself instead of her.

She was mentally and physically exhausted, that much he could tell. 

He had helped her lay down after her last contraction, knowing that the epidural was on its way. She had finally dilated enough to get the epidural and he hoped the anesthesiologist would hurry.

It took half an hour, but the epidural finally arrived. 

He held on to her as she bent over enough for the drugs to be administered, her hands gripping his forearms.

She was like a different person after the epidural. 

“It’s like having the hands of God laid on you,” she chuckled, “The relief is amazing.”

He was more at ease knowing she was more comfortable and in a lot less pain.

“At least the hardest part is over,” he reassured her.

Afterwards, she managed to sleep for two hours. Spencer laid in the bed cuddling her which was no small feat with how tiny the bed was.

The nurse came in to check on things and he put his finger to his lips, motioning to Y/N. The nurse smiled and nodded, going about her business in the room before leaving again.

He stroked her hair, watching her sleep. Before long, she would be awake and ready to push their little boy into the world. He was filled with a surge of love, so strong that he leaned down and kissed her forehead gently before snuggling her closer.

“I love you, Y/N.”

•

“You ready to have a baby?”

The doctor had gotten suited up and the nurses had shifted Y/N in position. After a few practice pushes, it was time for the real thing.

Spencer stood on one side of her, helping hold one of her legs up and the nurse counted out loud as she began to push.

“That’s great, you’re doing wonderful, Y/N,” the doctor encouraged when the contraction had faded.

The nurse placed an oxygen mask over Y/N’s mouth.

“Just to help you to keep breathing between pushes,” she told both her and Spencer.

He nodded, still feeling a bit concerned. He had no reason to worry though, it wouldn’t be long until the baby would be out and everything would be right in the world, to him.

“Okay, get ready to push again,” the doctor instructed.

Spencer felt her grip his hand as she beared down hard to push, her eyes squeezed shut, using all the strength she had.

“Come on baby, come on, that’s it, you’re doing it!” Spencer coached, holding tight to her hand.

Her hand flew up to try to take the mask off, but the nurse shook her head.

Things took a sharp turn for the worse then.

“Ow, ow, ow, I can’t!” she cried from behind the oxygen mask.

She’d suddenly gone from relatively calm to almost screaming in pain. Spencer tried not to panic, but in his gut he knew something was wrong.

“Is she alright?” he glanced at the doctor nervously, “Is that normal?”

“She may just be experiencing pain from pushing or her epidural may be wearing off,” the doctor explained.

“No, no, NO.” Y/N was shaking her head vehemently, “It hurts, it hurts!”

“You’re doing good, honey,” the doctor soothed.

Spencer knew she wasn’t catching on that something was wrong. But he was. He knew something was terribly wrong.

“Push!”

The order came from the nurse.

Spencer was sure he felt his heart break in that moment when doing what she was asked, she let out the most bloodcurdling scream he’d ever heard.

“Baby’s heart rate is dropping!” one of the nurses shouted, eyes on the monitor.

It was at that moment that a vast amount of blood started pouring out of her at an alarming rate. Machines started screaming at the same time.

“Spencer,” she moaned weakly, beginning to lose consciousness.

“Y/N! Y/N, no! Come on stay with me, baby,” he pleaded with her.

“She’s hemorrhaging,” the Doctor said, barking orders to the rest of the team, “We need to get this baby out now or we could risk losing them both.”

Losing them both. Spencer never even thought of the horrible case scenarios such as this one. His world was spinning and he couldn’t understand what was being said to him. He couldn’t take his eyes off Y/N who was all of a sudden pale, not moving and unconscious. He knew there was enough blood that it was already soaking through the birthing pad that’d been placed under her pre-pushing.

“Sir, did you hear me?” the nurse asked, frustrated.

“W-What was that?” he asked, trying to focus on what the nurse was about to say.

“We need to rush her into emergency surgery. She needs an emergency C-section so no more danger comes to the baby and immediately afterwards we need to find the cause of the hemorrhage to stop it. You’ll have to stay in the waiting room.”

“I- Okay.”

Too much was happening too fast.

It only took moments for the medical staff to whisk her away, with their baby still inside her.

He ran his hands through his mess of curls, disrupting them even further.

He could lose their baby.

He could lose Y/N.

He might never see either of them again.

•

It had been an agonizing two hours without a word about what was going on.

He paced, he fumbled with his phone, he even tried to read, but nothing was going to help the anxiety that had settled in the pit of his stomach.

He ended up wandering the hospital aimlessly, feeling quite akin to a lost puppy. He didn’t know nor did he want to know what his life would be like without Y/N in it.

When he stumbled upon the hospital chapel, it gave him pause.

Spencer had never been against religion, just been more of a man of science, but there had been an incident once. 13 years ago now.

He’d been kidnapped and tortured by an unsub they were hunting; Tobias Hankel. He had actually died at one point before being resuscitated by him.

He felt warmth, saw a bright light, felt love. 

He wasn’t one that was spiritual himself, but he couldn’t deny what he experienced. Which is how he’d ended up seated in one of the pews, looking down at his hands.

He was desperate at this point. He would do anything in his power. So he closed his eyes tightly, fighting the tears and said a prayer.

If you’re listening, please let Y/N and our baby be okay.

He sat there for a while more, alone with his thoughts. Surprisingly, the quiet was somewhat peaceful to him. 

“Dr. Reid?”

He startled at his name and turned to see one of the young nurses from the labor and delivery room standing in the doorway. His heart pounded wildly, afraid of what she was about to say.

“Yes?”

He was on his feet in an instant and standing in front of her.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Your baby boy was born safe and healthy. We can bring him to the room if you’d like to see him.”

Safe. Healthy.

Spencer nodded quickly.

“I’ll be right there.”

•

Spencer fidgeted nervously, anticipating the first time he laid eyes on his son. He was crestfallen that he wasn’t able to be there for his actual birth, but just knowing he was alive and well was enough for him.

He looked up as a nurse wheeled in a clear baby cot. A tiny, swaddled bundle lay in it, a little blue cap on his head.

“He’s a perfect 6 pounds and 8 ounces,” the nurse, who Spencer finally realized was named Nancy, said.

He couldn’t help it. Tears formed as he reached in the cot, gently picking up his little boy.

He was peacefully asleep, oblivious to all the current chaos. 

His newborn baby skin was smooth under Spencer’s finger as he stroked his cheek gently. He was positive that he had Y/N’s entire face, maybe except for the nose. That in itself was all him.

“Hey there little guy,” Spencer’s choked whisper came out.

Tears streamed down his face and he had to shift him just to be able to wipe them away with a free hand. He had a hard time with emotions, but right now it had all seemed to boil over. 

He was scared, anxious, happy and relieved at the same time. 

“We already fed him since your wife wasn’t able to at the moment,” nurse Nancy said.

Spencer looked up at her.

“Is she alright?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know,” she said apologetically, “I was only in there long enough to help after the delivery and tend to the baby.

His face fell and he looked back at the bundle in his arms. He made cooing sounds in his sleep, stirring a deep love in Spencer’s heart. He couldn’t bear to think of Y/N never getting to experience motherhood.

“If you hear anything, will you let me know?” Spencer asked.

“Of course,” she replied sympathetically, “I’ll personally keep check myself.”

He was grateful for her. She didn’t have to go out of her way to help him, but she was.

“What’s his name?” she questioned, curiosity lingering in the question.

“Noah. We decided on Noah Matthew.”

“That’s a lovely name,” Nancy smiled, turning to leave, but pausing at the last minute.

“I choose to believe she’ll make it.”

It wasn’t what he expected her to say. He looked at her curiously.

“What makes you say that?”

“Because a mother’s love for her child is a powerful weapon.”

•

Noah had woken a few times while Spencer held him. He didn’t want to let him go, so he sat and held tight to his son like he was his only lifeline.

“I hope mommy will be okay,” he whispered to him.

He opened his eyes again, looking up at Spencer, an arm popping out of the swaddle. It was such an unexpected gesture that it made Spencer laugh.

He held the tiny little fist in his much larger hand, kissing it gently.

“I know you’ve spent nine months inside mommy, listening to her voice, but she’s pretty awesome on this side too, bud. She’s going to be the type of mother that would drop anything and everything to help her little boy.”

More cooing and gurgling noises ensued, Noah’s gaze on Spencer as he spoke.

“I’m sure you’re totally going to be a mommy’s boy. I can’t say I blame you because I am. It’s such a special bond for a son to have with his mommy. I really, really hope you get to experience that.”

Spencer’s voice cracked on the last few words, his anxiety still very much present even though he was physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted at this point. 

“Guess what?” he said, shifting Noah in his arms so he held his head with one hand, his other on his bottom, facing up towards him.

“You’re more perfect than I even imagined,” Spencer said.

Noah began to fuss and Spencer stood, swaying gently.

“I know, I know,” he soothed, placing him against his chest, rubbing his back, still talking to him.

“It’s going to be okay. Everything will be okay.”

•

At some point Spencer fell asleep with Noah in his arms. The nurse couldn’t pry him away from Spencer, though she had tried to earlier before he’d fallen asleep.

Somehow, Noah gave him strength.

There was no telling how long it had been by the time he dozed off, but it felt like he’d been asleep only mere seconds when he felt an urgent touch on his arm.

“Dr. Reid.”

He startled awake, accidentally jarring Noah just a bit to the point he made a protesting gurgle. Spencer looked up to see nurse Nancy kneeling by his side. She spoke before he could even voice any of the questions that were swirling in his mind.

“Y/N’s out of surgery,” she said gently, “She’s going to be just fine. I talked to the surgeon myself.”

Relief immediately filled Spencer from head to toe. He was so relieved, he was sure he would probably cry again. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so emotional.

“What happened?” he whispered, voice still a bit raspy from sleep.

“She had a placenta previa which means-”

“The placenta covers the opening of the mother’s cervix,” he rattled off from memory, “I thought that was diagnosed during a pregnancy? How was it missed?”

“I’m not sure Dr. Reid other than the fact that it never showed up on an ultrasound as anything unusual. Or it possibly shifted during labor and it went undiscovered. But the good news is with the cesarean, we got him out alright and removed the placenta. All of the pushing put her body under pressure and she started bleeding because of it. They managed to stop the bleeding as well, it just took some time. It’s going to be a bit of a rougher recovery period due to all she went through, but she’s going to be fine.”

“Thank you. Thank you for everything,” he replied, gratefully, hugging Noah close to him.

“Would you like to see her? I can take you to her recovery room. She should be waking up soon.”

“Please.”

Spencer followed her, not letting go of his son.

•

When your eyes opened, the first thing you noticed was how bright the lights were in your eyes. The next thing you noticed was just how much pain you were in. You moaned softly, turning your head to the side, still trying to focus your eyes on the large shape that was next to your bed.

After blinking a few times, you realized it was Spencer.

“Y/N?!”

His voice was frantic and suddenly his face was hovering right over yours.

“Spencer?” 

He ran a hand over your hair, kissing your forehead firmly. Tears shone bright in his eyes.

“What happened? Is Noah alright?”

It was then that he pulled back far enough so you could see the little bundle in his arms. You weren’t sure how you missed him before. He moved so you could see Noah’s face.

“Say hello to mommy, little guy,” Spencer smiled.

His eyes locked with yours, displaying his happiness, anxiety, fear, relief and love.

“Tell her to never scare us like that again.”

TAG LIST: @dreatine​ @reid-187​ @groovyreid​ @reidslibra​ @iamburdened​ @cindywayne​ @sundippedprincess​ @missprettyboy​ @hushlilbabydoll​ @sammy-jo1977​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @lemonypink​ @multifandommandy​ @teamkiall​ @redbullchick​ @ifeelloved​ @one-sweet-gubler​ @nanocoool​ @delightfullyspeedyearthquake​ @unsteadyimagines​ @ughitsbaby​ @inkwiet​ @pennythetechgoddess​ @capt-engr-ssa​ @sixx-sic-sixx​ @spencersdolore​ @reidsstudies​ @disney-dreams-world​ @chocolatecalzoneherringbonk @mggwhore​ @andiebeaword​ @cupcake525​ @be-the-bravest​ @gretaamyk​ @hopebaker​ @prisonreid​ @httpnxtt​ @daviddoughboy​ @pastathighs​ @marvels-gurl​ @blushingspencer​ @simp-for-dr-reid​ @victorzsaszmydaddy​ @inlovewithamess​ @im-inlovewith-mycar​ @xshakesqueerx​ @queenofmischief​ @mattgraygubler​

[madamewriterofwrongs]

can i prompt: "Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?” for buddie? <33

Alicia! I meant to write something sweet and funny and instead, I wrote this. Regardless, I hope you enjoy <3

This, I Promise You

911/Buddie, 6k

“Eddie? Can you hear me?” Checking his best friend’s pulse, while constantly looking outside the grocery store window for the approaching ambulance, was not how he expected to spend his Thursday evening.

He had intended to take Eddie shopping for ingredients to make homemade spaghetti and meatballs. Instead, Buck had watched in horror as his partner collapsed in the dairy aisle, curling into his right side and only able to speak in pained groans.

Much later, he would feel grateful for his minimal medical training taking over his body while his mind swirled in panic but in the moment, the only thing that mattered was figuring out what was taking the ambulance so damn long.

“Just keep breathing, okay?” His fingers lightly brushed Eddie’s side and the man cried out louder, pulling Buck away from his work. He recoiled at the thought of hurting his friend in any way but there were so many other problems to deal with in the moment. What was happening to him? Where was the ambulance? What would he tell Christopher if Eddie died on his watch? The boy would never forgive him.

“Sir,” Buck jumped to his feet when a gloved hand touched his shoulder, watching from a panicked distance as the paramedics made their quick assessment that Eddie was safe to travel, and carefully lifted him onto the stretcher. All the while, Eddie continued his chorus of grunts and groans, fully-formed words having left his vocabulary entirely.

Buck opted to drive his jeep behind the ambulance (better to give them space to work, he reasoned), ignoring the selfish guilt in his stomach that somehow, he’d caused Eddie’s malady. He chose, instead, to focus his energy on calling Carla to bring Christopher to the hospital, then to inform Bobby of what little he knew, and finally, he called his sister. Second to his best friend, he needed someone to keep him calm with logic and a warm hug. Who better than the former nurse?

He would never tell Athena how he was nearly on par with the speeding ambulance on their way to the hospital, but he met them as they were wheeling him inside.

“Eddie?” He called to the man as he watched the pale form being wheeled past.

A nurse with a familiar stature to Maddie raised her hand to stop him with a firm tone. “Sir, you have to wait here.”

“But” he couldn’t leave Eddie alone now. What if something happened to him?

Again, the nurse stopped him. “If you give your and your friend’s information to the nurse over there, he’ll keep you updated, okay?” Her words were patient and gentle but left no room for argument. With one last glance at his friend disappearing behind the swinging doors, Buck turned towards the check-in desk. He was fully prepared to stand there until any new information came in, even if it took all night (which he sincerely hoped it didn’t).

That was exactly how Maddie found him when she hurried into the waiting area, operator’s uniform hidden under her sweater to accommodate the turning season. In fact, Buck wasn’t able to acknowledge her presence until two hands physically halted his mission to dig a trench in the hospital floor and he finally faced his sister.

“Any news on Eddie?”

She gently guided her brother to the nearest chair, only to press a hand into his leg when it began to shake with anxiety.

“Not yet. They took him back half an hour ago, why haven’t they figured out what’s wrong with him?”

“It could be such a simple diagnosis that they’re seeing to him right now.” Even if her words were just platitudes, they brought Buck a modicum of comfort to have another voice in his ear other than the one currently rambling about the worst-case scenarios. “What happened?”

“We were picking up groceries for dinner and he just collapsed.” Were he not in complete distress, he might have noticed the odd doubletake of his sister’s expression as his words set in. “He’s been hiding pain in his side for a few days, I thought he just pulled something at work and didn’t want to call out. Maddie, what if I didn’t say anything and now it’s only gotten worse?”

“Eddie’s a big boy,” she reminded him with no small amount of humor in her voice. “he can make his own decisions. If this is an untreated injury, then he’ll just have to deal with the consequences. But I have a feeling it’s nothing that serious.”

“That serious? Maddie, he collapsed in the grocery store. He was in so much pain, he couldn’t speak. How is that not serious?”

“By the way, since when did you and Eddie go grocery shopping together?” The blush in his cheek seemed to blossom instantaneously. “That’s very domestic of you.”

“Shut up.” Even Buck was unimpressed with his feeble attempt at indignation, too stressed to care much for appearances. “We were just picking up a few things so I could cook vegan spaghetti and meatballs for Christopher.”

“Where is Christopher?”

In all his pacing, Buck have never once forgotten about the little one’s imminent arrival. Facing the younger Diaz was the thing he seemed to be dreading the most in this entire ordeal. All the ways it could go wrong, all the ways he could fail that kid; it lingered in the air, refusing to offer a modicum of reprieve.

“Carla’s on her way with him. I really wanted an answer before they got here, though.” Having answers meant having hope and with hope on his side, maybe he could face those innocent grey eyes.

“I think you’re about to get it.” With Maddie’s assistance, he rose from his chair to face the approaching nurse he’d met earlier.

“Mr. Buckley.” He was too numb to feel her hand even as he shook it but he had a vague recollection of nodding in greeting. “You’re Mr. Diaz’s emergency contact, correct?” Again, he nodded as Maddie introduced herself to the other woman. “It’s a good thing you were with Mr. Diaz when he collapsed. It appears his appendix ruptured and if he had been alone, there could have been complications.”

All Buck heard was the crackling of static as the implications of her commendation sank in. “But, he’s okay, right?” She’d said it could have led to complications, that meant there weren’t any. Then where was Eddie?

“He will be. We’re prepping him for surgery as we speak but Mr. Diaz is heavily medicated, so we need your consent to move ahead.”

Wait, surgery? Surgery wasn’t safe. Surgery didn’t mean that everything was all right.

“Why-why does he need surgery?”

He saw more than felt Maddie’s hand on his arm. “They have to remove his appendix, Buck. It’s a very routine procedure, I promise.”

Of course, he trusted his sister, but that didn’t stop him from asking every question about the surgery that came to mind – even some he might consider irrational or fear-inducing under other circumstances. But these weren’t other circumstances. This was Eddie’s life. He needed to make sure his friend was safe above all else.

Thank goodness for Maddie, who gently pinched his bicep when he tried to ask for the credentials of the anesthesiologist, effectively drawing his attention to the impatient expression of the nurse before him.

“Sorry, yeah, you can go forward with the surgery.” He sheepishly signed his consent on the dotted line, even as his sister rolled her eyes at his hyperactive antics.

“Thank you, Mr. Buckley.” The other woman seemed to have the same expression on her face (though more professionally masked behind her clipboard. “Now, your friend has been very frantically asking for you so would you like to see him before we”

“Yes.” He cried with nearly too much enthusiasm, earning a startled jolt from the nurse who turned back towards the triage rooms without waiting for him. “Sorry, yes, I’m coming.”

Without looking back at Maddie, Buck pushed through the swinging doors Eddie had disappeared behind less than an hour earlier, his eyes immediately searching for his friend. Thankfully for the nurse’s sanity, Eddie’s room was the second on the left and already open for them to step through (lest she be forced to endure any more of Buck’s fidgeting demeanor.

The moment Buck’s eyes found Eddie’s, the room grew a degree brighter.

“Buck!” The firefighter cried. “You made it. I was worried you would miss it.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, buddy.” Buck grinned on his way to Eddie’s side, careful to stay out of the way as the other attendants continued their preparation work, but standing as close as physically possible. “How are you feeling?”

In lieu of answering his question, Eddie stared unblinking at the man before him. “Your eyes are like the ocean.”

Ignoring the smirks from the staff around him, Buck shook his head with nothing but fondness in his smile. “I’m going to remind you that you said that once you’re sober enough to be embarrassed about it.”

“Thanks, Buck.” The sincerity in the other man’s voice was nearly comical. “You’re a really good friend, you know that?”

“After everything you’ve put me through today, I better be your best friend.” He congratulated himself on his ability to make light of one of the most stressful days of his life (disregarding the times when his own life was in peril). “And we’re going to have a serious talk about you hiding things from me, too, young man.”

At this, Eddie seemed to grow paler as his eyes grew innocently wide. “How did you know?”

“The nurse told me, dummy.” He resisted the urge to sweep a stray hair from his friend’s face, but promptly surrendered under the reasoning that this may be his only opportunity. “You can’t keep scaring me like this.”

It was almost precious to see the grown man shrink into the pillows with a doe-eyed apology in his red eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to get hurt but I do it a lot, don’t I?” As Eddie fell into some sort of high contemplation, Buck gave one last glance over his friend’s features. Beyond a small reddening on the side of his face, he appeared to have no outward injuries from his fall. As for his insides – Buck hoped his unending questions were enough to sooth his anxiety but they hadn’t dissipated them completely.  

“No more than the rest of us, Eddie. The doctor will fix you right up and you’ll be back at the station within a week.”

“Two.” He caught his new favourite nurse’s voice as she rolled her eyes.

“One and a half.” He countered, only to be met with another definitive expression (was that a part of their medical school training?). “Two it is.”

“What if I get hurt again?” Eddie’s voice cut through the light air and pulled Buck back to his side.

“Maybe the staff will give us some sort of discount if we come in so many times in a year.” On more than one occasion, Buck had jokingly tried to bargain with the accounting department about some sort of punch card – and the fact that he’d an opportunity to make his horrible joke several times had not escaped his notice. “You’ll be okay. Just like you always are.”

“But what happens if I’m not?” That doomful thought had also crossed his mind but he’d struggled to keep it at bay. And now Eddie was staring up at him and no matter his own fears, he couldn’t let that sadness and fear take up residence on his friend’s face for any longer.

“I promise, everything will be all right, okay? You’ll have this surgery and then you’ll never have to worry about your appendix ever again.”

“I know the mortality rates on an appendectomy, Buck, there’s still a chance.” Even high as a kite, Eddie was still so smart. He was quick on his feet and calm under pressure in a way Buck wished he could emulate.

The trouble was: Buck also knew the mortality rates (having grilled the nurse on all possible complications, no matter how outlandish). “I know the numbers too, Eddie. You’re more likely to die in a skiing accident.”

“I would hope so.” The man scoffed.

Buck made a mental note to renew his statistics knowledge so he could win the next argument.

“I promise you’ll be fine.”

When Eddie grabbed his wrist, he was thankful his heart wasn’t the one being monitored. “Buck, I need you to make a serious promise to me.”

Even without the urgency in his friend’s voice, the firefighter would have agreed to anything. “Of course.”

“If anything happens to me, I need you to look after Christopher for me.” Before he could open his mouth to protest, Eddie continued. “He looks up to you and I know you’ll do everything you can to look after him.” Nothing that the man said was new information for Buck and yet every word sliced through the sudden fog around his mind with sudden clarity. “And don’t let my parents bully you into taking him back to Texas. He belongs here with you, okay?” When Buck didn’t answer right away, Eddie squeezed his wrist tighter. “Promise me?”

“I promise, Eddie.”

Logically, he knew that he shouldn’t be taking any of Eddie’s demands at face value, as he was under heavy pain medication and anesthetics. He had no control over what he was saying and yet it all rang true to the Eddie he knew – if a little more slurred and enthusiastic.

“You really are such a good friend, you know that?” As the man continued his speech, the attendants began to hook his stretcher to be wheeled into the hallway. Buck followed steadfast behind the group as he listened intently. “I don’t know what I would have done without you all these years. You’re kind and loyal and smart and beautiful. If I was going to marry someone again, I’d want to marry you. You’re amazing, don’t ever forget that.”

As the doors opened to where Buck could no longer follow, Eddie called out: “Buck, I love you.”

Before the words could fully register amidst the other ramblings, the surgery doors had closed and Buck was left in an empty hallway that echoed with every unspoken word suddenly flooding to the surface. What had Eddie meant by that? Why had he said it at all? He couldn’t wait however long the surgery took before he got his answers.

“Wait!” He feebly called to the door, knowing even in that moment, he couldn’t cross over just to question a man most likely unconscious from the drugs by this point. What was he meant to do with his hands? Did his legs function on their own without him consciously moving one foot and then the other? Was he currently breathing? The air was too stale to take a reasonable breath, he needed space in order for his mind to spiral properly.

“Buck? What did Eddie say?” When had he returned to the waiting area to face Maddie? How did she know that Eddie had said anything? Right; Eddie had been asking for him.

“He, uh, he asked me to look after Christopher.”

Buck passed by his sister’s nodding head on his way to the exit doors, hoping the late afternoon air would provide some much-needed clarity from his overwhelming mental journey. The world outside the hospital walls was a creamy orange as the thinnest traces of the setting sun began to pierce the sky. A soft breeze blew just enough to remind him that the world still turned despite the numbness in his fingers.

Before his legs could attempt to buckle from underneath him, he found a small concrete wall surrounding some barely tended shrubbery and let himself collapse against it. His head fell naturally into his hands as he reminded himself to take one deep breath and then another. Another breath came and again and again until he felt the ground beneath his feet and the denim against his elbows and the sweat in his hair once again.

Eddie’s in surgery now.

Eddie’s in surgery and he asked you to look after Christopher if anything happened to him.

Eddie’s in surgery and he said he loved you.

Eddie was also incredibly high on medication and wasn’t acting entirely himself despite the similarities in his speech. They weren’t things he’d even imagine his friend to say out loud, but he knew them to be true.

Except for the part where he said he loved you.

Admittedly, that was the part that stuck with him. More than his faux deathbed confession to care for his son, more than his ramblings about Buck’s qualities. The simple admission that his feelings for the man went beyond friendship, threatened to bring back the swirling mind and tingling fingertips.

Eddie will be okay and then you can talk to him about it once he’s recovered.

Or you could just never talk about it and see if he forgets.

Do you want him to forget about it?

What do you want to say back?

“Eddie’s going to be okay.” Buck snapped to attention, looking at his sudden companion with a smile that seemed to grow of its own accord.

“I know, Carla. It’s a common procedure and he’s come back from worse.” Of course, worse had been getting shot in Afghanistan, but this was nothing compared to the trials he’d endured there. In terms of Eddie’s canon of injures, this particular incident was hardly worth noting.

With the exception of one, distinct, admission.

“Then what’s got that pretty face all screwed up?”

He opened his mouth to tell his friend the same thing he’d told Maddie, only to catch the thing missing in his life just in time. “Where’s Christopher?”

“Inside with your sister. She asked me to check on you.” There were many reasons Buck could name as to why he loved his sister, and he added another to his list. “So, if it’s not Eddie, what is it?”

Without needed words exchanged between them, Buck shuffled over to allow room for his friend to sit beside him. Perhaps there was another solution to his dilemma that he’d never considered before.

“It is Eddie but it’s not about the surgery. Well it is about the surgery but not the” Buck took a deep breath to steady his rambling mind and it marginally worked. “I’m not worried about his physical health.” His mental health, perhaps. How can he love me?

“What did he tell you?” The confusion must have been evident on his face because Carla supplied the answer. “Maddie said you went in to see Eddie and when you came back you looked like you were going hurl – her words, not mine.” He smiled at that. “What did Eddie say to you that got you so twisted?”

Four words. Not large for a statement but grand in stature and bewilderingly unsettling.

“He told me he loved me.”

“Oh.” Carla blinked in surprise, but he saw no disgust or apprehension, which he knew would be absent from the woman who’d known them both for the entirety of their friendship. Of the people in his Los Angeles family, she was the only person he might consider to be closer to Eddie simply because she had a different relationship with the man. There was something about Carla that had always put him at ease, and one night spent lying awake and missing the home he’d left behind many years ago, he realized the thing he loved about Carla was also the thing he loved about Eddie: no matter their dynamic or status, there was trust and respect and kindness. She might call it ‘being damn good at her job’ but Buck hadn’t called Carla all those years ago because she was the best in-home care worker he’d even known (not that he’d known too many in his time), he’d called because he trusted her with something important that he couldn’t do on his own.

Perhaps he could trust her again.

“I just wasn’t expecting him to say it when he was being wheeled into the operating room.”

“But you were expecting him to say it?”

He opened his mouth to protest, cursing his own subconscious, but a gently impatient look from the woman next to him silenced those thoughts. “I think maybe I was but I didn’t realize until it happened. Like, I’ve never thought about Eddie as anything other than my…” Suddenly, calling him his ‘friend’ didn’t seem like enough. “Eddie.”

“Well your Eddie just laid his cards on the table, it seems.” He had the horrifying realization that he would never escape that particular tease for some time. “So what are you going to do about it?”

Buck had been asking that very question since Carla found him and yet he still hadn’t come up with an answer. “What if he didn’t mean it? Or what if he meant it as a friend? Or what if he forgets? Or what if he didn’t mean to say it now and he’s not ready?”

“Honey, I’m going to say something I don’t think you hear enough.” She placed a firm hand on his shoulder to ground him into silence. “Stop thinking so much and just do something.”

Buck had, in fact, never heard that command uttered in the context of himself before in his entire life. If anything, he’d spent most of his career being constantly reminded to do the exact opposite. He knew reminding her of that would only earn him an eye roll and maybe a light smack on the arm, but she cut him off before he could consider if it would be worth it.

“I’m serious. Don’t think for one second and just tell me the first thing that comes to mind.

Run.

“Do you love Eddie?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to be with him?”

“Yes.”

Something warm and heavy settled in the front of his chest, spreading across his sternum like a blanket. Freedom, he realized, freedom and hope and contentment. He wasn’t as afraid of those words as he probably should have been.

“Would Eddie ever intentionally hurt you?”

“Never.”

More truth spilled from his lips as Carla questioned him and the warmth spread into his shoulders and curled down his back.

“Would he ever lie in order to lead you on, or in any way hurt you?”

“No.”

“Do you want him to have meant it?”

“Yes.”

“If the two of you were together, what’s the worst that could happen?”

“We break up and I have to change stations and he never lets me see Christopher again.”

“What’s the best thing that could happen?”

“Everything.”

Upon his confession, he saw the same surprise on Carla’s face that she’d worn earlier: no judgement or hint at foreknowledge. Pure, quiet, realization.

“Oh you love him, love him.” He hadn’t realized it until she’d said it out loud – and part of him felt ridiculous for connecting with such a childish explanation – but it was as true as anything else he’d said in the safety of their stone wall. “You can’t keep that thing bottled inside. If there’s even a chance that he feels the same, you have to go for it.”

Easier said than done. “But what if”

“No buts, Evan Buckley.” He shut his mouth at her command. “When that boy is out of surgery, you are going to tell him that you love him, too. Do you understand me?” It was almost surreal to think of such a tender moment being turned into a threat, but he nodded with panicked fervor. “Good. And no talking yourself out of it between now and then, either. You’re telling that boy tonight or I will drag you into his hospital room and lock the door until you do. Although you’re more than welcome to lock the door yourself once you’ve made your confession. No pulling his stitches, though.”

Buck had no idea his skin to blush that shade of red, but as images of all the reasons he might need to lock him and Eddie inside a room for privacy tumbled through his mind, he felt his entire body boil over from the heat.

“Carla!” He admonished with a smirk.

“Honey, if I looked half as good as either of you, I wouldn’t have been able to hold out as long as you both have. Honestly, your resistance is impressive.” He would never tire of her honest commentary (she hadn’t been the first to notice Eddie’s quote ‘perfect bone structure’, but she was the first to say it out loud).

“And I think you’ve both earned a little happiness, don’t you?” That same honesty could hit him with just as much depth. Her talent was startling.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Damn right, you would.” She bumped his shoulder to pull a smile from within his nervous, terrified, hopeful body. “Now, are you going to be okay for the next few hours or do I need to bring your sister out here to give you another pep talk?”

Oh god, how would he explain this to Maddie without being mercilessly teased at their wedding reception? Slow your roll, there, Buckley (his inner thoughts sounded strangely like Bobby). Get through the night and see if you both make it to a first date. “I think I’ll be okay.”

And after saying it so many times in his life, Buck meant it in a rare burst of honesty that settled in his bones. Granted, he was still terrified out of his mind – because telling someone that they make the sun shine brighter for the very first time was never an easy task – but no matter the outcome, he knew he would be okay.

“Thanks, Carla.”

“Thank me by inviting me to the wedding.” As if she weren’t already near the top of his guest list.

--

It was to Eddie’s great shame that waking up in the hospital following his emergency appendectomy felt painless. The first time he’d opened his eyes completely, two very patient nurses had asked his questions while examining him with clinical precision. It was nothing he hadn’t experienced over and over in his time. The second time he’d opened his eyes, there were no nurses or questions; in fact, from the light outside the window in the open hallway, he would guess it to be early in the morning (despite the distinct lack of change inside the building. He had, unfortunately grown accustomed to opening his eyes to the harsh overhead lighting and constant yet distant noise of the machines. The post-pain-med-hangover was a distant memory, and the only sign that anything in his life had changed was a slight soreness in his side where he’d no doubt have another scar to add to his ever-growing collection.

That, and the hand squeezing his as he returned to consciousness. But feeling Buck by his side was not a sign that anything had changed. If anything, it was confirmation that he had returned to the land of the living.

He would save his questions of how he knew Buck’s hand from anyone else’s for another time. Or perhaps never (though if he were honest with himself, the concept of ‘never’ hurt his heart worse than the idea of ‘not you’). Right now, he focused on looking at the eyes which owned the hand massaging his knuckle just below the heart monitor attached to his finger. If he focused on his breathing, maybe the machine wouldn’t pick up on the way his heart skipped a beat when he saw Buck’s smiling face.

“Hey Bu-”

“I love you.”

There was no mistaking the sudden drop and double count on the monitor, but all Eddie could hear were Buck’s words repeating over and over in some sort of recursive loop.

Maybe he was still dreaming.

“What?”

He missed their connection, but the way his partner shot up and began slowly pacing the length of his bed was more concerning. “I was going to lead up to it but then I saw your face, and Carla told me that if I didn’t tell you when you woke up, she would lock me in here and I panicked a little.” His explanation was only mildly helping Eddie’s nerves, but he accepted what little context was provided. Something about Carla.

Okay, so he needed more information.

“Carla made you say that?” But why? Was this some sort of pity confession, or fear for his safety? She had been encouraging him to start dating again but coercing his best friend was a bit much.

“Yes. No.” Buck stopped and restarted his pacing every time his train of thought shifted tracks and frankly, Eddie wasn’t nearly awake enough to understanding what was going on.

“Buck, sit down, okay? Tell me from the beginning.”

As easily as though he’d made his own decision, Buck obeyed Eddie’s command and flopped into the seat – though he didn’t retake his friend’s hand, a fact from which Eddie attempted to hide his disappointment. With a long breath, Buck began his speech while Eddie watched his changing expressions with increasing awe.

“I don’t know how much you remember about yesterday or what you said before you went into surgery. I know you were pretty out of it from the pain meds and anesthesia but you said some things.”

Oh god, Eddie prayed for more anesthesia so he could go back to sleep and wake up in a world where he hadn’t embarrassed himself. He had no idea what those things were that he’d apparently said to Buck but from his demeanor the instant Eddie laid eyes on him, he knew it must have been something big.

“You asked me to look after Christopher if anything happened to you.”

Oh? That wasn’t too bad. “I meant that. I trust you.” If that was all he’d said, there was nothing to be worried about. He would have asked that of Buck regardless. It just made sense at this point. “Just promise you wouldn’t let my parents bully you into taking him back to Texas, okay? His home is here, now.”

Buck’s blush was awfully adorable in the sharp, white light (perhaps not all of the medication had worn off). “You, uh, you told me that, too.”

“Okay good, I mean it. We can make it official if you want? Sign the paperwork and everything.” He should take a look at his will anyways. He hadn’t had a chance to adjust it since before Shannon’s death and some things had definitely changed. Was that why Buck looked so anxious: he didn’t know how to ask Eddie for guardianship? That was an easy fix. So far, nothing had come up to explain what had prompted the sudden confession or Carla’s involvement.

“We could?”

“Of course.” He shrugged, careful of his wiring and newly acquired stitching. “I told you: there’s no one I trust more with my son than you.” He’d meant it then and, if anything, that belief had only grown with time.

“What about your heart?”

The one currently alerting the nurse’s station that it was beating uncontrollably? That heart?

“What about it?”

“Do you trust me with your heart more than anyone?”

“Buck, wha-”

“You also said,” Buck seemed to be powering through now, regardless of anything Eddie wanted to say. “You also said that if you were going to marry anyone else, it would be me.” Oh god. “And you said that you love me.” Oh god. “Did you mean it?” Oh. God.

The truth of it was that Eddie didn’t remember anything between experiencing a pain in his side as they walked into the grocery store and waking up to the two nurses hovering over him. He’d guessed it was a problem with his appendix but like many unpleasant things, he’d put off making an appointment too long and it had apparently come to bite him in the ass in the worst (and most expensive) way possible.

And on top of that, his subconscious mind was punishing him by letting slip the confession he’d been rolling around on his tongue for months.

Great.

He’d realized he was in love with Buck one night when they had been on an endless shift with too many calls involving high stakes and stupid people. He was beyond exhausted and frustrated, and every emotion seemed to take up residence in his shoulder muscles. Finally, they’d been freed to go home to their loved ones, except because of the late hour, his loved one was sleeping over with his friends. So, Eddie had no one to go home to – a fact which he had resigned himself to long ago – when he felt a familiar hand clap his back and, with a simple nod of his head, Buck invited him over for pizza and video games. And just like that: Eddie wasn’t alone any more. And just like that: Eddie realized he loved Buck.

For months, he’d wrestled over the depth of his emotions for the man currently watching his every expression. Was it just a crush born out of proximity? Was it a physical attraction coupled with a close friendship which would mean a less than successful romantic relationship? Was it loneliness and desperation? Was it a forever kind of love? Did it have to be in order to mean something important?

It had taken time, but eventually Eddie had come to the conclusion that Buck was more than a fling and worth more than mere physical attraction (though the man had been making frequent visits to his dreams of late and many of them involved the need to wash his sheets in the morning).

He was beginning to contemplate the notion of possibly thinking about telling Buck how he felt, when his appendix decided to do it for him. And now here was Buck, looking him in the eyes – those eyes that were like the ocean in a storm – to ask him if he’d meant it when he’d said that he loved him, despite not remembering making that very significant confession.

And on top of that: Buck’s first words in response to that very significant confession, was to tell Eddie that he loved him. Because of Carla. Somehow.

“Why did Carla make you say…what you said?” Dare he get his hopes up? Dare he allow himself to believe that the things Buck said were said in earnest?

“She didn’t make me say it, I wanted to say it, but she told me if I chickened out when you woke up, she would lock me in here until I did.” If anyone asked him the colour of the sky, he would have no earthly idea what the sky even was. The only thought that existed in his mind were five words.

“You wanted to say it?”

Buck’s cheeks really did turn a lovely shade of pink when he was flustered. “Yeah, Eddie, I wanted to say it. And I wanted to hear you say it. Just not when you were being wheeled into surgery.”

“It wasn’t how I planned on saying it, either.” He muttered his confession despite barely regaining consciousness from losing all other thought.

“But you meant it?”

Buck reiterated the question Eddie had yet to answer because it felt like reaching a door that would disappear once opened. But wasn’t that the real question: did he want to open the door?

“Yes.”

The smile on his partner’s face was warm enough to soothe the cool remnants of their parted hands, and Eddie felt his own expression soften and expand from just the sight of the other man’s joy.

“Good.” Buck whispered. “I love you, too. By the way.”

If laughter didn’t threaten to pull his stitches, he would have joined in the bubbling happiness that filled the room. Instead, he resigned himself to watching the man he loved – the man who loved him back – relax into their shared knowledge that things would be all right between them.

Not that he ever truly worried. Things with Buck weren’t always easy but they always found that world again: one where they were both too frightened to speak their hearts and minds, but the universe brought them together anyways.

Grocery store appendectomies were decidedly not on his list of ways to confess his love. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

[everybodyscupoftea]

so in one of the fics for frat!jj you mention the reader getting appendicitis. Could I request an imagine of jj getting worried and helping her through it and stuff?

anon! i was hoping someone would pick up on it and ask me, thank you :)

(warnings: cursing, appendicitis, not edited)

It all really went wrong when you and JJ were on a run about a mile and a half from the house. You’d been having pains in your side for at least four months, but they always went away and centered around you period, so you figured it was fine. Apparently not.

Mid-run, you gasped a few times, trying to fight through it. Normally if you just held yourself a certain way it would pass after a few minutes. It didn’t work, so you stopped, startling JJ. He pulled his headphones off and placed a hand on your shoulder, “Everything okay, babe?”

“I’m not,” you started, through gritted teeth, “my fuckin side.”

“Stitch?”

You groaned and hunched over, arms fully wrapped around your stomach. JJ made a noise of alarm and squatted down so he was face to face with you. He pushed a sweaty strand of hair away from your face, and you squeezed your eyes shut as the invisible knife in your side twisted.

“Fuck, this doesn’t feel right,” you groaned.

“Can you stand?” JJ asked, pulling his phone out.

You tried and shook your head after a few seconds, “Nope, new permanent shape.”

He laughed and tried to call someone, cursing when they didn’t answer. It started to lighten a little, and you tried to stand straight again as he dialed someone else’s number.

“Pope,” JJ started in a relieved voice, “thank fuck you answered, man. Hey I’m going to drop you my location and I need you to come pick us up, something happened.”

You couldn’t hear what Pope said in return, but he was yelling a little. Laughing hurt though, so you stopped that almost immediately. JJ looked over as you winced and he bit his lip, “Yeah, I think maybe we need the hospital so if you could hurry, it’d be much appreciated.”

“That’s expensive, I don’t need the-“ you started, only to be interrupted with another wave.

“Yeah right, hush down there.”

JJ held your hand, letting you squeeze it, until Pope finally pulled up. He threw his truck in park and jumped out, running over to the two of you. You glanced up at him as he put a hand on your shoulder, “What hurts?”

You motioned toward your side, “It’s like a knife is in my side and every time I move it twists.”

Pope made a face, “Could be appendicitis, do you still have your appendix?”

“Yeah.”

JJ’s face paled, “Okay, we have to go now.”

You slowly wrapped one arm around JJ’s shoulders and one around Pope’s, and they helped you limp to the car. It hurt so bad when you had to step up, but you pushed through, trying not to show too much pain to worry JJ. But he saw through you, “Quick ride to the hospital, okay hon.”

“Mkay, yeah.”

Pope drove quickly, and not particularly carefully, the few miles to the hospital right off campus. By the time JJ helped you out of the back seat, the pain was residing a little, and you sighed in relief. JJ looked over, “Still making it?”

“Yeah, it’s getting better. Might not be appendicitis, we could probably leave.”

JJ rolled his eyes, “Sit down, I’ll go sign us in.”

You huffed but did as he said, slowly sinking down into a seat closest to the door. The pain may be going away slowly, but you still didn’t feel like walking far. JJ filled out the paperwork quickly, only having to ask you a few of the questions, and before you knew it, you were being called back.

The nurse looked at you and asked you to stretch your arms out, what exactly was hurting, if you felt like you could pee, and on a scale of one to ten, where was the pain. She didn’t seem too concerned, so you started to relax.

“You’re going to be given a drink, it’s a sort of dye, we’ll need it when we x-ray you to check for appendicitis.”

“I thought it was unlikely that I had appendicitis,” your voice had taken a frantic edge as you suddenly realized what appendicitis would mean.

JJ stroked his thumb over your knuckles, “They still have to check, sweetheart.”

The nurse nodded and you shut your eyes tightly. Her tone had gentled when she spoke, “Let’s get you to a room and then we’ll you get you that drink.”

A new nurse brought a wheelchair into the room and you started to protest, “Wait, no I can walk.”

JJ sighed, half in amusement, half in frustration, “Baby, get in the wheelchair and let these people do their job.”

The other nurse shrugged, “He can carry you if you really don’t want the wheelchair. Doesn’t matter to me. You just can’t walk.”

You looked up at JJ, grin on your face and he rolled his eyes, “I’m not fuckin carrying you when there’s a wheelchair right there.”

Batting your eyelashes at him you pouted, “Please, J.”

He carried you. Following the first nurse who had a wide, amused smile on her face. When he set you down on the bed you looked at her, “He’s whipped.”

“That he is,” she agreed on her way out to get the dye.

JJ glared at you, “Now you have to behave.”

“Or what,” you challenged, wincing as another wave of pain hit.

“I’ll come up with something,” he told you, but it wasn’t the most threatening thing, the concern in his voice at the new look of pain on your face more evident.

You were incredibly thankful for your boyfriend. JJ held your hand while you slowly drank the dye, forced you into the wheelchair for x-rays, and called your mom when the doctor came into the room to inform you that it was appendicitis, and you needed surgery ASAP because it was on the verge of bursting.

“Have you had a surgery before?” the doctor asked, glancing through your paperwork.

Clutching JJ’s hand tightly, you nodded, “Yeah, wisdom teeth.”

“Great, so you know how this is going to work.”

“Mhmm.”

After that, everything moved fast. A PA moved you and JJ to an actual room, not in the ER, and you settled in to wait for the anesthesiologist. JJ helped you get all your clothes off and into the hospital gown. You groaned, “Wait I don’t want anyone to see me naked.”

JJ laughed, “Tough shit, baby. They’re going to have to.”

“Nooo,” you whined, half joking, half serious.

It moved fast from there on out. Surgery felt like a blink and you were back in the room, loopily talking to JJ who was filming you. After a few minutes of pointless conversation, he planted a kiss on your forehead, “I love you sweetheart, but please sleep this off.”

And you were tired, so you complied. When you woke up, your mom was sitting in the chair JJ had previously occupied and you looked around the room for him, confused. Your mom looked up from her phone and smiled, “There you are.”

“Where’s JJ?” you asked, one track mind in full swing.

“He had class, so I told him he could go. You’re getting out tomorrow morning, so he’ll stop by then.”

You pouted, “He didn’t say goodbye.”

Your mom laughed, “I’m sure he feels very bad. Check your texts, he might’ve sent you something.”

And he had, which made you feel a bit better. The rest of the day passed in a blur of pain meds and boring hospital movies and bad hospital food. By the end, you just wanted to sleep until you could leave because at least you didn’t hurt while you were sleeping.

You did look at your mom once and asked her, “Do you think this means the pain I’ve been feeling every month for the past few will be gone.”

Her mouth fell open and she leaned forward, “You’ve been feeling this for months?”

“I mean yeah, but it always went away so I figured it was fine.”

She sighed and rubbed her forehead, “How does JJ put up with you?” You were a little offended, but honestly it was a good question.

That night, you slept restlessly, and eventually it was time to go. Your mom drove you to your dorm, and JJ was waiting outside it, one hand shoved in his shorts pocket, and one holding something. You slowly climbed out of the car and walked toward him, grinning.

“Missed you, loser,” you told him as you stepped into his personal space to rest your forehead on his collarbone.

“Missed you more, reckless,” he told you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

Stepping away, you held out a hand for whatever he was holding and he took it, mistaking your intention. You shook his hand away, “No, what did you bring me?”

JJ huffed, “I guess that saying is true.”

“What saying?”

“Bitches get stitches.”

Your mouth fell open and you slapped his chest as he laughed, “It’s snitches, asshole.”

“You know I love you,” JJ told you, pulling you in gently for a kiss.

You huffed, pulling away, “Well I don’t know if I love you. You’re being mean to me and I just went under the knife.”

JJ rolled his eyes and led you inside the building, opening the door for you. You hesitantly followed him, pouting a little, until he said, “You know I’m about to baby the fuck out of you, so I think you can get past it.”

Which, fair enough. You smiled up at him, squeezing his hand, “I guess I do love you a little.”

“A little,” he muttered incredulously under his breath and you couldn’t help but laugh.

[jobrookekarev]

I Remember it All Too Well Chapter 3

Chapter Three of Six: In My Defense, I Have None

Words: 2800

Chapter Summary:  Alex unintentionally works with Jo on one of her cases and sees her work as an OB. However, he makes the mistake of trying to flirt with her, and everything that's been boiling between them since he left comes to a head. Alex finally gives her an explanation as to why he left. 

Story Summary: Alex knew from the moment he signed the divorce papers that leaving Jo and Seattle was the worst mistake of his life. As Alex works his way back to Seattle, he sees Jo again four times before she allows him back into her life.

Or

The four times Alex saw Jo after their divorce, and the one time they finally got back together with her, plus a soft epilogue.

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson.

Characters: Jo Wilson, Alex Karev.

Rating: General Audiences

Additional Tags:  Regret, Longing, Pining, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Foster Kid, Adoption.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

……………………………………………………………………

“What do we got?” Alex asked walking into the delivery room and over to the warmer where the intern had the baby. He briefly saw Carina with her back turned to him as she was still with the mom and the anesthesiologist as they took out the epidural. 

“A Newborn baby boy with a cleft palate,” the young intern, Dr. Chee said.

“And?” Alex asked, looking down at the pink baby that squirmed on the blanket.

“Umm..” Dr. Chee stuttered as he looked down at the baby and then back at him not sure what Alex was asking of him.

“The baby is oxygenating well, heart rate is normal, and APGAR scores were an 8.” 

Alex looked back at Jo dressed in pink scrubs as she looked down at the tablet and finished the chart work. Alex quickly looked back at the baby and took a deep breath as he started to assess the baby.

“Is he okay?” the mom's desperate voice asked him and Alex glanced back at her. She and her husband exchanged a worried look as they watched Alex intently. 

“He appears to be doing well,” Alex said, as he quickly checked the baby over. “What's his name?”

“Jordan.”

“Hi Jordan, I’m Dr. Alex I'm just going to take a look in your mouth real quick,” Alex said looking down at them as he put his fingers on the baby's gums and assessed the pallet. “It looks like a cleft lip, alveolus, and cleft palate.”

“Oh my god,” the dad said, sitting down into the chair next to the bed.

“It's all my fault,” the mom said as she began to sob. 

Alex glanced back at the parents not sure what to say. He was never good with parents much less crying parents.

“Hey, hey, Emily, look at me,” Jo said in that soft and calming voice that washed over them like ocean waves. “It's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. I've been with you throughout this entire pregnancy and I know that you didn't do anything wrong. Sometimes birth defects just happen no matter what we do or how well we take care of ourselves while pregnant. It's not your fault, and despite this rocky start your baby is going to be just fine.”

“Really?” the dad asked, still unsure.

“Trust me, Michael,” Jo said, with a reassuring smile. “Jordan is going to be just fine and you can trust Dr. Karev too, he's the best Pediatric surgeon I've ever worked with.”

Alex had to tear his eyes away from Jo and he could hear the mom take a deep breath behind him. He quickly finished checking over Jordan and swaddled the baby. Jo had finished with the mom and she tucked the blankets around Emily. Alex brought the baby back over and sat them in Emily's arms. 

“Are you going to take him to the NICU or something,” Michael asked as he looked down at Jordan.

“Nope,” Alex said, shaking his head and putting his hands on his waist as he stepped back.

“Why not?” Emily asked in disbelief as she looked down at her baby. “Doesn’t he need to be monitored or something?”

“All of that can be done right here,” Jo assured them with a nod.

“Dr. umm... Wilson is correct, with a cleft palate one of our main concerns is feeding. Given that the gap is just in his lip and hard palate I suspect that he won't have too many issues. I’ll be around to keep an eye on him and we can see how he does. Otherwise, his prognosis looks pretty good. Will have him fitted with a palatal obturator before you leave which will fill the gap in his lips and palate until we can do surgery which usually will do around the time he’s a year old. It’s still a long journey, but for now, there's nothing we need to do.”

The parents seem to take his words in stride as they cautiously look down at their little baby. Alex thought that he should say a few more comforting words, but nothing came to him.

“So for now you just hold that baby close,” Jo said, as she moved to the end of the bed. “Get to know each other and I'll have a Lactation Consultant come by in a few minutes and we'll see how he does on the breast before we consider a bottle or tube feeds. I know how important it was for you to breastfeed and I’ll page Dr. Karev after that.” 

Alex wasn't surprised that Jo didn't directly address him and he didn't take it personally. He wasn't even supposed to be on her cases, but Hayes was in an emergency surgery and he didn't know Jo was the primary OB.

“Thank you,” Emily said looking at them. 

“Yes, thank you,” Michael said looking up at them for a second before their baby captured their attention again. 

“You're welcome,” Jo said as she beamed with a smile and Alex just smiled and nodded at the parents. He smiled at Jo too, before he remembered his place and looked away from her. 

The two of them stepped out and Alex sent the intern off to page Avery so they could get a good plan for the cleft palate in place. As he finished up the chart for baby Jordan, he lingered at the nurse’s station and watched as Jo finished her chart work. When he walked into the room he didn't recognize that it was her in the pink scrubs. Alex had never worked with Jo before and Meredith was right, Jo was amazing.

“You're really good with the parents,” Alex said, trying to seem nonchalant as he spoke. He took a chance to look up from the chart and glanced at her. Jo had paused, and she didn't look at him, but she didn't walk away either so he continued. “I was surprised when you switched specialties. I always thought that you would follow in Meredith's footsteps in the two of you would be co-heads of general surgery, but now that I've seen you work. I see why you switched, plus the pink scrubs look good on you.” 

Alex smiled as he reached over to tug the hem of her pink sleeve, but the second he touched her, she turned away and took a step back.

“Don't,” Jo said, turning to look at him, setting him with a glare that he knew better than to argue with. “Don't do that, don't flirt with me, Alex.”

“I wasn't, I was just talking...”

“No, you were flirting. I know because you’ve flirted with me for years,” Jo said, crossing her arms as she raised a single eyebrow at him. 

She was right of course, he was flirting with her. It wasn’t intentional, but it just came so naturally to him, to flirt with Jo. To sweet-talk her until she smiled and laughed and kissed him. But as he looked at her, Alex saw only anger, and he knew her anger too. Alex was all too familiar with Jo’s anger, just as much as he was familiar with her happiness. 

“You're right, I'm sorry, Jo. I just, I just wanted to be able to talk to you again,” Alex said looking over at her and watching her I soften the little at the edges before she shook her head and scoffed, turning back to the chart on her tablet.

“You don't get to do that either, Alex. You don't get to come back and just expect me to forgive you because a year has passed and we work together now. There's a reason I ask for Hayes every time I have a case that requires a Peds doctor. I don't want to work with you. I don't want to be your friend. I want you to pass me in the halls and look the other way because you left.”

Jo trailed off, she took a deep breath and Alex could hear her getting choked up and he hated himself for it. All this pain, and anger, and sadness were because of him and his decisions. 

“You left. You did the one thing, the one thing you told me you'd never do. Whenever I got squirrely or insecure about my place in your house, in your life, whenever Meredith kicked me out of our bed, when I found the goddamn papers with your and Izzie’s embryos you assured me that you’d never leave. You know I think about that night all the time, the twins would have been what, a year old by then, and we didn't even know. That night you came home and you told me you weren't going anywhere, but then you left. You made the choice between me and Izzie and you chose her and I am done being your second choice.”

Jo pushed away from the nurse's station and quickly walked away. Alex knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help but chase after her. He owed her an explanation even if it was the last thing he ever said to her. 

“I didn't choose between you and Izzie, Jo. It was never a choice between you and Izzie…”

“Yes, it was,” Jo said pausing and turning around so fast he almost ran into her. “Don't give me the crap about how it was between your kids and me. We tried for a baby the day you left. I know we hadn’t been trying for very long, but we were ready. I thought you were ready to have a family with me. I joked that I'd take the test and present you with the positive pregnancy test at the airport and you said to text you the day my period was due so we could find out together. Instead, I took that test with Meredith and she was the one who reassured me that we could try again.”

Alex’s shoulders fell as he looked down at the floor. He remembered that conversation all too well, he remembered the way that she'd climbed on top of him that morning and how she kissed him as they had sex. He remembered how she smiled when she said that she would announce it to him at the airport in front of everybody. He remembered how excited she was to be a mom and how excited he was to be a dad, but at the time he was already a dad to the twins. He remembered the sheer disappointment he felt when she texted him that she wasn’t pregnant and how he wished he was there to comfort her.

“What would you have done if I was pregnant? Who would you have chosen them? Would you have made our kid fly halfway across the country so you could co-parent with Izzie? Because you sure as hell didn't want to co-parent with me.” Jo yelled, as her anger faded into hurt as tears collected in her eyes. “Or did you just divorce me because I couldn’t give you a child?” 

“No, of course not, Jo,” Alex pleaded with her that she would believe him. 

“Really then why? Why did you leave me?” Jo cried out as her tears started to fall, but she didn’t falter, she just stood there, demanding answers to her questions.

Alex tried to answer her. There was so much he wanted to say, but it was all this big complicated mess and he didn’t know how to begin. He stood there like the fool he was with his mouth open like a fish as he tried to figure out how to explain it all to her.

Jo shook her head and wiped away her tears, “Yeah, that's what I thought.”

She turned and walked away. Alex knew he couldn’t let her go without telling her what she needed to hear, Jo deserved to know the full story and to know why he left her, despite how much he loved her. Maybe it wouldn't make things easier and it certainly wouldn't make things right. However, Jo deserved the full story, and Alex didn't want her ever thinking that he chose Izzie over her.

“Do you remember what it was like for Meredith when Derek was in DC?” Alex yelled as Jo paused in the hallway, but this time she didn't turn around to look at him. 

“I know you do because she crawled in our bed nearly every night. I remember how hard it was for her to have her life here but have her husband in DC. Meredith was a mess and every time she saw Derek they fought. For a year, they fought, and for a year, Meredith was miserable. I know that before Derek died they were working things out but I didn't know how we could work things out without going through something similar. I didn't know how to continue my marriage with you and be a father to my twins without hurting you.”

Alex walked towards her, the hallway was empty as most of the nurses and other staff must of had the good sense to stay out of their way. Jo didn't turn around and he walked forward until they were just a foot apart. Alex could hear her breathing in and out and he could smell the scent of her perfume and shampoo, lavender, and sage. It was still the same as when they were married and he remembered how the scent used to linger on his clothes. He used to love it. It was a gentle reminder of her in his life. Now his clothes just smell like his cologne and his kid’s laundry detergent because he didn't bother washing his clothes separately.

“I knew that if I tried to co-parent with you, I would be torn between Kansas and Seattle and I would have spent half my time there and half my time here. I knew that I’d tear you apart too and I loved you too much to do that to you, Jo. You had everything you’ve ever wanted in Seattle and you'd be miserable if we moved, to Kansas. I thought that you would begin to resent me because you wouldn't be my only priority, but I couldn't make Alexis and Eli my second priority after I had missed so much of their life already.”

“I knew that you would be okay because you had Meredith and Link, and I knew that you would go on, you would move on and you would do amazing things and you did. You adopted a baby and you switch specialties and you have this whole big life and career and you did it without me and I am so proud of you.”

“For what it's worth I’m sorry that I didn't give you a choice in any of this. It felt like I was holding two stones and I dropped you instead of taking the hard route and figuring out how to carry them both. So yeah, I regret leaving you. Leaving you was the worst mistake I've ever made and I will spend the rest of my life knowing that my life will never be as good as it was when I was with you. I'm a coward and I'm a runner, Jo. Even after all these years, but I'm done running and I'm trying to fix the relationships that I broke. That's why I'm back in Seattle and you were right, you made it so I could never love again, not unless it’s you.”

Alex didn't expect her to react to his declaration of love it just sort of tumbled out of his lips and he let his words hang between them. His words were messy and it probably didn't make half as much sense as it did in his head, but at least she knew everything now. Jo continued to just stand there in the hallway, her back was to him in those pink scrubs. 

The more he stared at her the more he realized how much he had overstepped with her. Alex knew he shouldn’t have tried to talk to her. He made it seem like he was trying to worm his way back into her life. That was something Paul would have done and he wasn’t Paul. Everything he did around Jo, he tried to be aware of how his actions affected her as he didn't want to hurt her.

“I'm sorry, I'll be respectful of your boundaries going forward and I'll try and make sure Hayes is on your cases as much as possible.”

Alex took a step back and then another, walking backward for a second and just watching Jo as she continued to stand there in the middle of the hallway. Then he took a deep breath, turned around, and walked away. What he didn't see was how Jo turned around and watched him go.

……………………………………………………………………

AN: Okay, so I wasn't sure about Alex's big speech to Jo. I rewrote it and edited it a million times before I finally settled on this version. I wanted him to have an explanation that seemed reasonable and I think this kind of makes sense, but I'm not sure. I also kind of intentionally made it a little messy, because I figured Alex of all people isn't really the best at speeches, but let me know what you think of it?

[sentient-stove]

Cartilage

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Characters: Virgil, Patton, Remy, Roman, Logan, Emile

Relationships: Roman/Remy/Emile, Familial Analogical, Familial Princxiety

Additional tags: hospitals, human au, autistic virgil, therapist emile, car accidents.

TW: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

Summary: Roman finds a teen during a traumatic event.  He adopts him basically.

Word Count: 2914

Notes: I didn’t kill virgil this time. (I have track record of doing that)

AO3

“Prince, we need a nurse in trauma room one, go!”

Roman looked up and nodded, speed walking to the trauma room, running into an anesthesiologist, who was flipping through a tablet.

“Do you know who’s in there?”

“No, but there was a bad wreck on I-37, father and son are coming in, it should be one of them.”  She turned.  

Roman nodded and they broke apart, with her heading to the other trauma room and Roman going to wash and put on the sterilized gear.  He was getting inside the room right as two paramedics came wheeling in a teen on a stretcher.

“Fractured ribs and possible collapsed lung, he’ll need surgery.”  One said and Roman nodded, helping transfer him to the table.

The room was dead silent as nurses and doctors worked, Roman quietly helping as the lung was reinflated and they stitched up a few smaller cuts on his face and chest.

When it was all over, Roman helped transfer him into a room.

“What’s his name?”

“Virgil Alt, fourteen.”  The other nurse said as he wrote it down and placed the clipboard in it’s holder at the edge of the bed.  “His father died while in surgery.”

Roman looked at the small body, swamped by machines and bandages.   “Poor thing.”

“CPS will probably be here once he wakes up…”  The nurse trailed off.  

…

Two hours earlier

“Dad?”

“Yes Virgil?” “Isn’t it kinda dangerous to be driving in the snow?  I mean, we did have a snow day because of it.”  Virgil looked up from his seat on the passenger side.

Logan sighed.  “We’ve talked over this before.  The roads have been cleared now, and I wouldn’t be taking us anywhere if I wasn’t absolutely certain that we would be in danger.”

Virgil nodded and turned the radio on.  “Sorry for being nervous.”

“It’s perfectly fine to show concern.  It is late at night and there has been an increase in car accidents.”

Virgil hummed and pulled a rubix cube from his hoodie, relaxing as Logan snuck a glance at his son.

“I love you Virgil.”

“I know Dad, you get so sappy at the most random times.”  Virgil didn’t look up at his cube and Logan smiled before returning his gaze to the road.

Sure, it was dark and late, but they would be fine.

Unfortunately the semi that hit the patch of black ice would prove otherwise.

...

Roman got home around midnight, quietly creeping to the bedroom that he shared with his husbands, being careful as he got changed out of his scrubs and climbed into bed to join Remy and Emile.

Both were already asleep, thankfully, Roman hated it when they waited up for him and so he threw an arm over Remy and pulled the comforter back over him as his breathing settled.

Poor kid.  Roman wished that he could get out the thought, he’d seen plenty of people die during his time as a nurse, but this was his first time with a child losing his family.

Hopefully he had another relative that he would wake up to.

…

Virgil woke up in extreme pain, head feeling fuzzy as he attempted to sit up, only to have a hand at his shoulder, gently pushing him back.

“Hey kiddo.  You had a bit of a rough night, so you need to lay back, okay?”

Virgil nodded.  “Where am I?”  He turned his head to see a cheery looking man with curly hair writing something down.

“Hospital.  You got into a bad wreck last night.  We had to fix your lungs and give you some stitches.”

Virgil could vaguely remember last night and he blinked slowly.  “Where’s my dad?”

The man pursed his lips.  “I’m not sure.  Probably in a separate recovery room.  I’ll have to ask around.”

Virgil nodded and settled back.  “Everything hurts.”

“We’ll get you some medicine, okay?”

“Thank you.”

“Just doing my job kiddo.  You’ll be back to normal in no time.”  The man smiled softly.  “I’m Patton.”

“Thank you Patton.”

…

Roman danced around the kitchen, Remy sneaking from his spot on the counter and Emile already sitting at their table, the only one completely ready for the day as he took a drink of his tea.

“I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream!”  Roman sang as he approached Remy and tapped him on the nose.

“Ew babes, you know I hate the mushy stuff.”

“That’s not what you said this morning when you were trying to convince Emile to not get out of bed.”  Roman teased as he turned back to the stove and flipped the French Toast that he was making.

“It was cold!”  Remy complained and Roman gave an easy laugh.

“Sure love.”

Remy stuck out his tongue at him, before moodily picking up his coffee and taking a sip.

“Ro, what shift do you have today?”  Emile called.

“Noon to five.”  Roman put the French Toast on a plate and handed it to Remy, dipping the next two slices of bread into the egg mixture he had.

“I get off at six, should we do a date night tonight?”  Emile looked at the pair and Remy nodded.

“I just have to email a few people and then I’m done with work, so I can do the planning if you guys are okay with that.”

Roman flipped the toast again.  “Sounds great.”

…

Patton sighed quietly once Virgil fell back asleep.   He didn’t want to be the one to break it to the teen that he was alone in the world now.  

Lying to him was wrong, but he didn’t know what else to do.  Patton checked the vitals again before leaving the room, nearly running into a fellow nurse, Roman.

“Hey Popstar!”  Roman smiled at him as he sidestepped and Patton gave him a weak grin back.

“Hey Ro.”

“Is the kid okay?”

“For now, we still haven’t broken the news to him though… I don’t want to be the one to do it.”

Patton sniffed a bit and Roman held out his arms, welcoming the other into his embrace.  “It’ll be alright, he has family to take care of him.”

Patton shook his head.  “No he doesn’t.  It’s just him and his dad.”

Roman exhaled slowly.  “Oh.”

…

Virgil decided that he didn’t like the hospital.  No one was telling him where his dad was, most people just gave him sad looks and said that they didn’t know where he was.

So he took it into his own hands after the nurse left him, saying that she’d be back if he needed anything.

He kicked away the tight sheets and winced as the pain in his ribs flared as he moved to stand.  Virgil didn’t let that deter him though as he pulled the IV along with him, being careful as he detached everything else like how he’d seen the nurse do when she let him have a bathroom break.  Nothing went off, which was good, and Virgil walked unsteadily to the door of his hospital room and pushed it open, the IV rolling next to him.

The hallway was surprisingly empty as the teen wandered down in, looking through the windows of every room as he looked for his father.

“Dad?” Nothing.  Virgil took a deep breath as he turned down another hall, bare feet quiet on the cool floor.  

He was passing another door when a nurse came out, looking startled.  “Hey, what are you doing up little guy?”

Virgil tilted his head to the side.  “Looking for my dad, his name’s Logan Alt and people keep telling me he’s here but not where.”

The nurse’s face crumpled.  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

…

Roman was finishing up with a patient when a scream rocked the floor that he was on, a horrible, heart wrenching thing that clearly communicated that whoever was the source was in pain.

He rushed out into the hall, looking for the source and seeing that one of his coworkers was trying to hold down a thrashing child as the kid screamed.

Not a child.

Virgil.

He must have found out about his father.  Roman hurried over to the other nurse and laid a hand on his shoulder.

“If you keep trying to hold him down, he could collapse a lung again.”

Virgil screamed again as the nurse let go and he curled up into a ball, still sobbing as the screaming died down.  Roman reached out a tentative hand to rest on Virgil’s collarbone.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!”   Virgil yelled and Roman recoiled, an apology on his lips as he backtracked in his mind.

Virgil shuddered and let out another sob as a few more nurses entered the hall, seeing the three people on the ground.  Patton was among them and Roman watched as the teen’s eyes locked onto the nurse.

“You lied to me!  You said he was okay!”  Virgil struggled to sit up as he pointed.  “You said “You’ll be back to normal.”  and my dad’s dead now!”

Roman could feel the tension as if it was another person, and Patton’s eyes filled with tears.

“I’m sorry kiddo…”

“STOP!  I DON’T LIKE LIARS!!!”  Virgil screamed and then the solution to the problem practically slapped Roman in the face.

“Virgil.  Look at me.”

The teen let out a shuddering breath and turned his head to Roman, refusing eye contact.  Roman reached out his hands, keeping his palms up.

“We’re gonna count to ten, together okay?”

“I don’t want to…”

“Please?  We need to make sure that you can breathe.  I’ll start.  One.”

“Tt..two.”  Virgil stuttered out as gasping sobs ran through him.  Roman smiled softly.

“Good job.  Three.”

“Four.”

Virgil crawled a bit closer, still avoiding eye contact as he took more breaths.  “Five.”

“Six.”

Virgil placed his hands on top of Roman’s, looking at the wedding band that the man had on.  “Seven.”

“Almost there Virgil.  Eight.”

“Nine.”

“And ten.”  Roman exhaled and gently wrapped his hands around Virgil’s  “Can I help you walk back to your room, I don’t want you to get anymore hurt.”

“Okay…”

Roman helped him stand and then pulled the IV out of his arm carefully.  “Do you want me to hold your hand?”

“Yeah… Really tight though, please?”

“Of course.”  Roman tightly gripped Virgil’s hand.  “Any other touch no’s that we need to know?”

Virgil silently shook his head, and Roman noted that there were still tears streaming down his face as the nurse led him back to his room.  He helped him back into the bed and hooked him up.

“Did you get out yourself?”

“Yeah.”

Roman whistled.  “Impressive kiddo.”

“Don’t call me that.”  Virgil's voice was sharp and Roman nodded.  “It’s okay, I’m sorry.”

“Liar called me that, why did he lie to me?” Roman looked up to see that the teen was making eye contact, storm grey eyes filled with misery and hurt.

“I don’t think that Patton meant to hurt you Virgil.”

Virgil hissed and looked away again, starting to cry again.  “My dad’s not coming back…”

Roman finished with the replacement IV and reached forward to card a soothing hand through Virgil’s hair.  “I’ll make sure that you’re taken care of, promise.  I know that your dad can’t come back, but there’s a lot of people here that care about you.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

…

Emile and Remy both got calls from their husband that he wouldn’t be able to come home in time for the date and that he had something to discuss with them when he did.

Naturally both were concerned and waited up for Roman to return, which he did around eleven thirty, not surprised to see them both on the couch.

“Hey loves.”

“Is everything okay Ro?”  Remy asked as Roman sat down in the beanbag, instead of going to the couch.

“Not really.  Bad work stuff.”

“What happened?”  Emile said as he leaned forward and offered his husband a tissue.

“There was a bad car wreck yesterday night, father and son got plowed off of the road by a semi… Uh, the father died.”

Remy gasped and Roman sniffed, wiping at his tears.  “We were all trying to figure out how to tell him and he didn’t take it well.  I’ve never heard such a heartbreaking scream.  No relatives and he’s slightly autistic and I promised that I’d make sure he was safe. I can’t break that.”  Roman started to cry as Remy and Emile got off the couch, wrapping their husband in a hug as he sobbed.

“Hey, it’s okay.”  Remy soothed as he pressed a kiss to Roman’s hairline.  “We’ll do anything to help, okay?”

Emile nodded.  “If he needs a home, you know that we’ll give him the best one he can get.”

Roman let out a watery laugh.  “Seas and stars, I love you two so damn much.”

“I should hope so, you fucking married me.”  Remy responded.

…

Virgil hated change.

New house, new people feeding him and new smells hit him all at once when Roman finally said he could leave the hospital.

He didn’t like Patton still, but he promised not to hiss at the nurse when he came in anymore.

Some weird lady had led him out of the hospital, saying that she was part of the government and that Virgil could call her ‘mom’ if he wanted to.

He didn’t.

She had taken him to Dad’s and his house, and he had had an hour to pack all of his stuff.

Someone else would take Dad’s stuff, but Virgil had managed to take Dad’s favorite tie and his book collection with him.

Now he was sitting in the lady’s car as she chattered happily about something that he wasn’t paying attention to.

He wanted Dad.  Dad smelled like books and he let Virgil learn about stars and sailor culture, and taught him how to use rubix cubes.

But Dad wasn’t an option anymore.  The lady had told Virgil that there was gonna be a funeral on Saturday and then after that, he was going to meet his new family.

Virgil tucked his head against his chest and quietly let himself cry.

... Emile was nervous as he adjusted his tie and sweater again, looking at the door.

“Babes, con calma, they’re not going to be here for at least another ten minutes.”

It was Saturday afternoon and Roman had gotten a call that Virgil would be arriving with a social worker within the hour and so Emile had made sure that everything was as calming as it could be.

The poor kid, having to go to a funeral and then change houses all in the same day.

There was a knock and Emile surged forward, pausing before he could fling the door open.

“Ro, they’re here!”

“Okay! I’m coming down!” Emile opened the door to see the social worker, with Virgil behind her, slouched over as if he was trying to take up as little space as possible.

“Roman?”  The social worker grinned and Emile let out a nervous laugh.

“Ah no, that’s my husband.  I’m Emile.”

“My apologies.  May we come in?”

Emile turned to the side and let them in, smiling softly at Virgil, who pointedly looked away after making eye contact.

“Roman?”

“Nah, I’m Remy, Roman’s other spouse.  Take a seat on the couch, Roman will be down in a minute.”

Virgil didn’t sit and Emile sat next to Remy as Roman came downstairs, beaming at Virgil.

“Spiderling!”  

Much to the shock of the social worker, Virgil set down his back pack and walked over to Roman, holding up his arms.   The nurse picked up the fourteen year old with ease and hugged him tight.

“I missed you.”

“It’s only been five days, seven hours and thirteen minutes.”  Virgil said back as Roman put him down, although he still clung close.

The social worker cleared her throat.  “You three just need to sign a few papers and then I’ll do monthly check ups to make sure you’re fit to be parents.”

“Thank you.”

…

It wasn’t perfect.

Virgil still held a lot of trauma from what had happened and he had to go to a therapist that wasn’t Emile so that it would be more effective.

But Roman would always admit to crying the first time that Virgil called him Dad.  And even though it was mutually agreed that Logan was always going to be Virgil’s real dad and that he wouldn’t have to feel obligated to call any of his adopted parents that, somehow, over the course of the next year, Virgil warmed up to them.

There were always bad times, and they stopped celebrating Christmas, due to the time of year that the accident happened, but they always made it through.

Remy ended up teaching Virgil about latte art, which became a heavy fixation of their son’s, leading to lots of coffees with too much cinnamon when he messed up, or the most glorious cup you had ever seen depending on if it went well.

Emile and Virgil bonded over Saturday morning cartoons and sugary cereal, and he was the first one that Virgil accidentally called Mom.

Emile liked it and so it stuck.

Roman was the one who spent the most time with Virgil and as the teen grew up, he was grateful to have someone that had spent the time to find out everything he could about Logan, making sure that his Dad wasn’t ever forgotten.  Roman never broke his promise.

He kept Virgil safe.

[willow-salix]

Fluffember prompt: Feathers (vaguely, and with a dash of Rainbow)

Day 13 of Isolation on Tracy Island 2.0

“OK, who threw that pencil at me?” Scott demanded to know. No one owned up. Honestly I didn’t even see where it had come from let alone who threw it. 

“No clue,” I answered.

“I’m gonna find out,” he growled. “I could have been badly hurt!”

I sniggered to myself, for a real life action hero Scott could be so dramatic sometimes, and didn’t bother looking up from the latest copy of ‘Better Gnomes and Gardens: Witches Weekly’ that I was flicking through.

“Seriously, that could have taken my eye out, it’s like a miniature stake,” he continued to grumble.

“Talking of stakes,” I started, trying to distract him so that he didn’t go off on a ranting tangent about the danger of flying pencil projectiles, “there’s been a development with the Highgate Vampire, he’s been spotted again. Seriously, what more can this crazy year throw at us? Don’t answer that,” I warned John before he could even utter a word. I know my boy and I know that he was about to throw out some highly logical statistic or another that would make complete sense but would make me want to cry.

“Highgate Vampire?” Scott asked, distracted as I'd hoped he would be. My evil plan had worked. I turned my magazine to show him the article. “You remember, when we tried out that new ka- pub,” I corrected myself, aware of just how many of his brothers were crowded around. “We walked past the cemetery and I told you all about the legend of the Highgate Vampire.”

Scott looked blank, which is a look I’m used to seeing on him, I gotta be honest, he barely ever listens to me. “You know, I told you the story of how, back in the 1970’s a group of ghost hunters decided to try to find a vampire that supposedly lived there?”

He shook his head. 

“Self appointed bishop vampire hunter dude?” I tried again.

“Oh, yes! I remember him. He’s back?”

"Who?" 

"The Bishop."

"No, he's dead, the vampire."

"The vampire killed him?"

"The Bishop is dead of natural causes, and the vampire has been seen again," John supplied. 

“Yes," I agreed." Apparently so, and they’re blaming him for this virus outbreak.”

Everyone went quiet for a second, not sure what to say to that. John reached out a hand and I passed over the magazine so he could read it for himself. 

“Why do you read this rubbish?” he asked after perusing the rest of its offerings.

“Why wouldn’t I want to know that blue aliens brought Elvis into that lady’s garden?” I asked, genuinely perplexed.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” he told me honestly, handing the magazine back to me.

“Do you remember that time that Virgil thought he was a vampire?” Scott suddenly asked him.

“Oh, God, yes. I hadn’t thought of that in years,” John laughed.

“Wait? He what now? There were vampires involved? Why was I never told about this? This is my one area of expertise and you've been holding out on me?”

“I did not think I was a vampire,” Virgil corrected them. “Our high school math teacher did.”

I tossed the magazine aside, this was far more entertaining than anything I’d find in there.

“Spill,” I demanded.

“It’s really not that interesting a story,” Virgil insisted, trying valiantly to deflect us.

“He was a sophomore, so about fifteen years old,” Scott started, dodging out of the way when Virgil threw a pen at him this time. Scott narrowed his eyes, like he wasn’t sure if that was proof that he had been the perpetrator of the pencil or not. Virgil, for his part, looked innocent. Pen, what pen? I saw no pen? What even is a pen? Isn’t that something you put pigs in?

“And he had to have two of his back teeth out due to overcrowding,” John continued, grabbing me and yanking me onto his lap, using me as a human shield when Virgil lifted his sketch pad threateningly.

“I’m so glad I married such a brave rescuer,” I deadpanned as John continued to hide behind me. "My hero."

“I was driving him back from the dentist and he was still a little out of it from the sedation they had given him,” Scott took up the tale.

“I’m just not a big fan of the dentist, OK?” Virgil defended himself. "They have to sedate me."

“His gums were still bleeding and he’d spat the gauze out within a minute of getting out of there,” John continued, ducking back behind me when Virgil glared at him.

“They’re going to tell it anyway,” I told him, “so why don’t you do it instead?”

Virgil nodded, seeing the wiseness in my words.

“My gums were bleeding but I didn’t know what to do with it all, I didn’t want to swallow it and to be honest, I was still pretty woozy, so I just kinda let the blood collect in my mouth.”

“Aww, that must have sucked, babe, I’m sorry.”

He nodded at me in thanks for my sympathy, something he was NOT getting from his brothers.

“We stopped at some lights and by that point my mouth was getting pretty full-”

“He was drooling like Alan at nap time,” Scott butted in.

“Did you not give him a tissue or something?”

“No, he was evil.”

“I was driving and I don’t carry things like that on me as standard,” Scott argued.

“I’ll pick you up if anything like that happens again,” I promised the big guy. “For girls our cars are like an extension of our house or our handbags, there's tissues, lip balms, snacks, bottles of water, everything.”

“Thank you,” Virgil sniffed, casting Scott a smug look, knowing I was firmly on his side.

“So, how is this vampire related?” I had to ask, I mean, I was sympathetic but I was also nosey as hell.

“I wound down the window as we stopped at the light,” Virgil continued. “And I...well, I was still a bit muddled…”

“He opened his mouth and all this blood came oozing out, it just dribbled everywhere,” Scott  practically yelled, bursting out laughing.

“Why are you laughing, you evil thing?”

“Because,” John piped up from behind the shelter of my person, “the car next to Scott’s was Mrs Beddleman’s. Virgil, recognising her, breaks out into this wide, goofy and completely bloody, smile.”

“She looked absolutely horrified and even though she wasn’t going that direction she turned right to get away from us. She was a very religious lady and she took to wearing a cross to school for the rest of the year until I left her class.”

“And she moved his seat to one beside the window,” Scott howled, doubled over laughing.

I bit my lip, trying very hard not to laugh.

“It’s OK,” Virgil sighed, “you can laugh.”

“I don’t want to,” I told him as seriously as I could. “But I really don’t think I can help it.”

I made the fatal mistake then, I glanced at Scott who was at the point of silently laughing, his body shaking and I cracked.

“It’s not like I’m the only one that had bad anesthesia reactions,” Virgil said slyly and I snapped to attention.

“Are you not?” 

“Nope,” he shook his head, grinning now. “We’ve all had broken bones and hospital stays over the years.”

“Oh, oh, tell me a Scott one!”

“He had an appendectomy when he was twenty. He was taken in for day surgery and when he woke up he was completely coherent,” Virgil started.

“He was?” Knocked out Scott had to be different to sedated Scott, because sedated Scott was hilarious and very snuggly. 

“What can I say, I have a strong constitution,” Scott preened.

“He’s lying,” Virgil continued. “He was talking normally, answering questions and the doctor said he was doing great and could go. He was starving, hadn't eaten since the night before and he insisted that the only thing he would eat was Chinese food, and it had to be a buffet, nothing else would do."

"I mean, he's not wrong, there is nothing like a good Chinese," I agreed. 

"Well, it appeared that he hadn't been as recovered as we thought he was."

"What happened?" 

"I came round from the anesthesia sitting in the restaurant and as far as I knew I'd just gone under in the operating room and I'd woken up with a plate of chicken teriyaki on a stick in front of me."

John sniggered, muffling his laughter against my shoulder.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing,” Scott huffed. “Have you forgotten about when you had your tonsillectomy?” 

“That was not my fault,” John mumbled, clearly regretting his previous amusement.

“Oh gods, what did you do?” I asked him, turning my head to look at him over my shoulder.

“Nothing! I was just talking to the anesthesiologist.”

“The anesthesiologist was new to the hospital so hadn’t met any of us before,” Virgil started.

“Do I take it that you all had frequent user passes? Like buy ten ops and get the eleventh free?” 

“Pretty much,” Scott shrugged, unashamed of just how bad that sounded. “So John’s there, being himself, talking to the surgeon and anesthesiologist about the operation and what they were planning, how long it would take, telling them what they needed to do, that sort of thing-”

“I like to know what to expect,” John defended himself.

“Swot,” Gordon teased, coming in at the tail end of John’s mini rant, Alan trailing along behind him.

“It’s not a bad thing to want to go into a situation with full knowledge of it. Research and a game plan are only sensible. How do you expect to get good at something if you don’t know the mechanics behind it?” He glanced around at his brothers who looked less than convinced. “You know you’ve all been grateful for my expertise more than once.”

“I know I have,” I agreed, ignoring the raised eyebrows that came my way. Let them think dirty things, that was their problem. I received a small kiss to the side of my neck thanks for my support so I’m not going to complain.

“So, what were you guys talking about?” Gordon asked, flopping down on the couch beside Virgil.

“They were sharing with me their tales of woe under the effects of anesthesia and sedation,” I informed him.

“Oh, yes, we’ve all got those,” Gordon agreed. “Which one was John telling?”

“The time when he had his tonsils removed,” Scott helpfully supplied.

“I don’t remember it,” Gordon frowned.

“Neither do I,” Alan added.

“He was talking to the anesthetist, we got that far,” I said.

“He was talking to him as they were asking him to count down from a hundred,” Virgil continued.

“I only remember getting to ninety-one,” John told me.

“We were outside in the relatives room, waiting for him to be taken to recovery,” Scott took up the tale. “We had only been in there about fifteen minutes when the anesthesiologist and a nurse came out looking like they had seen a ghost.”

“Dad stepped up and demanded to know what the problem was and if John was OK,” Virgil said. “It turned out that John had been far more coherent than he remembered and hadn’t stopped counting at ninety-one.”

“He’d gotten to sixty-two but when he reached eighty-nine he’d apparently switched to fluent Japanese, and then started talking about a wakizashi, that and asking them about their day.”

“A what now?” 

“A small, fourteenth century Japanese sword,” John supplied.

“The anesthesiologist was actually Japanese and he had apparently called three of his peers in the ten minutes that John had been under to ask how it was possible that this Caucasian, american teenager was suddenly speaking in fluent Japanese under the influence or anesthesia.”

“It took Dad a good five minutes of solid laughter to finally tell them that they hadn’t broken John or damaged his brain in any way, he was actually fluent already,” Scott laughed.

“Apparently he gave them the biggest scare they had ever had in more than twenty years,” Virgil finished.

“I was obviously being considerate and had thought that it was more polite to talk to him in his own language rather than English,” John sniffed, crossing his arms around my waist. “I don’t see what the big deal was.”

“I’m just impressed that you were speaking it fluently at all,” I said, earning a gentle finger flick as punishment for ever doubting him. “I meant that I can only speak three languages fluently, English, bad English and Sarcasm, so anyone that can do anything else is just amazing to me,” I quickly defended myself.

“Sarcasm is your native tongue,” John mumbled. I ignored him.

“He’s mostly self taught too,” Scott added, showing that, despite how much time they all spend teasing each other, they are always proud of their siblings.

“I used to watch a lot of foreign films and TV shows to pick up the pronunciation and read a lot of graphic novels and translated books to learn how to read and write,” John elaborated. “It’s a very effective way to learn and I apparently have a gift for languages.”

“As well as many other things,” I added to be nice. “Any other stories I need to know?”

“When Gordon was having one of his back surgeries they told him that they had to strap him down and when he asked why they told him it was so he wouldn’t fall off the table and he said ‘It’s OK, five second rule’,” Scott told me.

“‘Cause I'm a snacc,” Gordon added with a grin. “Apparently I also woke up with a violent jolt and when I was asked if I was OK I apologised to the nurse and told her that I thought I was a shark.”

“You also started a joke with the nurse as you went under and finished it the moment you woke up with no prompting,” Virgil laughed.

I clapped enthusiastically for that one and Gordon bowed modestly.

“What about me?” Alan asked, finding the whole thing highly amusing.

“You’ve only been under once but you were hilarious in both the things you said,” John answered. “You apparently woke up screaming ‘Where are my wings?  I want my wings? You stole my feathers you jerk! You were only supposed to take my tonsils!’ and then passed right out again.”

Gordon cracked up laughing, as did everyone else including Alan.

“You then woke up again and asked how long until the anesthetic kicked in, and when the nurse told you it was all done and had actually been two hours you yelled in her face ‘WOAH, DID I JUST TIME TRAVEL?’” John finished.

“That’s so precious,” I cooed, because Alan is adorable in everything he does regardless of what it is.

“We have a lot of stories like that,” Virgil said, “we sometimes have to give pain relief or sedate someone who is freaking out and they do the weirdest stuff.” 

“They do? Is there some kind of hippocratic oath that you guys have to swear or can you tell me some?”

“No oath,”  they assured me. 

“One woman grabbed Virgil’s hand, stuck her fingers up in his sleeve, stroked his arm and said ‘You’d make a great carpet’,” Gordon told me.

“It’s not uncommon for people to feel stressed and unsure of where they are,” Scott continued, “they often wake up screaming or panicking, but we delivered one guy to the hospital who’d had a pretty nasty bang to the head and broken an arm. We were unable to calm him down so we had to sedate him so he wouldn’t do any more damage. He woke up as we were transferring him to the hospital gurney and he hopped off before we could catch him, pulled his pants down with his good arm and started to helicopter right there outside the hospital.”

That broke me, I’m sorry to say. I might proclaim to be far more mature than these idiots and not find fart jokes and the like amusing, but the mental image of this guy, standing there, twirling...I just couldn’t stop.

“One girl asked us if we were single and we didn’t answer and deflected by asking her if she had a boyfriend or girlfriend and she started crying that she just wanted a dog.”

“Remember that young boy who meowed the entire way to the hospital?” 

“And that one lady that was really nervous so we told her to think of something nice and she started singing ‘I wish you a merry Christmas,’ but it was July!”

“And the one that said she wanted us to drop her off at the top of a rainbow so she could slide down it?”

“And the guy that woke up when we landed, looked right at Kayo and said as loudly as he could ‘Look! The love of my life! Don’t leave me, I can change!’”

“And that one guy who knocked out a few teeth and spat out the gauze we packed his mouth with and started freaking out crying ‘was that my liver? Nooo, my liver! I need that! Get back in you!’”

“A woman lost a couple of teeth too and was crying about being ugly. We gave her some pain relief and she was so hazy that, when we handed her over to the doctor and gave him her teeth she started screaming at him... what was it she said, John? You heard it over the comms and were laughing so hard.”

“She yelled, ‘Charlatan! I demand you return my teeth! They are mine and I will choose how they are to be spent!’”

I cracked up at that, mostly the way John told it, which I assume was the same way she had, like a plummy Victorian aristocrat that had just been insulted.

“And that teen who said ‘hey, mister, my ass itches and I’m too high to scratch it.”

“Oh, that’s pure gold,” I laughed, wiping my eyes because I was laughing so hard.

“What about you?” Alan asked me. “Have you ever done anything weird?”

“Only every day of my life.”

“I meant under sedation.”

“Oh, yeah, not really,” I shrugged. “I know that when I had teeth out once, after napping on the couch for a few hours I suddenly sat up and announced that I needed to make Mum a cup of tea. She told me I didn’t need to but I said she was my guest and I had to be polite or she’d leave me alone to die. There was no arguing with me so I got up, went to the kitchen and came back and gave her a mug of cold water with a spoon in it. I apparently said ‘drink up, luv,’ like a really bad impression of Parker and face planted the couch and passed out again. Mum made her own tea after that.”

That got a fair few sniggers and Scott threatening to take away my British card for screwing up tea so badly.

“I have to ask,” I said conspiratorially once everyone had calmed down, “has Kayo ever done anything like this?”

They all looked around, as if scared that she might be listening, then eventually Virgil nodded.

“She came round from her knee surgery after she dislocated it and insisted on trying to get out of bed. The nurse told her she had to stay put as they had just fixed her knee and it needed time to heal. She answered in the most confident, how dare you try to stop me way and informed the nurse that she was a ninja and that they heal three times faster than normal people. The nurse let her try and she dropped face first.”

Honestly, out of all the stories I’ve heard today, that one was the best. It’s nice to know that even the most capable and sometimes terrifying of us isn’t always perfect.