#I love how I did all that panic prep before I went in for surgery to try and make sure i'd get some actual downtime

[loversandantiheroes]

.

[skunkes]

ok detailed surgery experience

i made this schedule (?) of the major events as soon as I left while I cld still remember (and still kinda forgot!) i like knowing the Times of stuff so I asked my dad to take note of Times for me, and tried to ask for the time where i could

surgery I got was a laproscopic bilateral salpingectomy, full removal of the fallopian tubes only!

Misc details off of dis, obviously TMI territory as its a medical procedure.

The second blood draw (they took blood from me yesterday tooooo) hurt less and more somehow. Nasty nasty bruise forming.

IV really was the worst part of it ! I'd get weird throbs of frustrating pain long after it was in

I was given compression stockings that went right up to my crotch. Your toes stick out, and they put hospital socks over your feet. Some additional compress wraps were placed above my knees.

Pre op/prep didnt take too long at all. I know I have it listed as over an hour of waiting, which always made me nervous to read in other people's experiences, but it doesn't really feel like waiting. The TV helps pass the time, as do the people who are with you if any, and the nurses popping in with help or instructions or updates. The prep room was small and the bathroom was next door. The double doors open to wheel you out. Remote was given toe to control the TV and also call the nurses via a speaker.

The nurse who wheeled me in was nicest, she pronounced my name Correctly and was also really funny and friendly...

In general I knew this surgery was going to go well because I was actually able to fall asleep last night. I've stayed awake/tossed and turned for events far less stressful. Dis was also due to part of it kind of not feeling real for me! And being wheeled into surgery room added to that! It didnt feel real, it felt like watching one of many scenes from medical media of the same point of view.

I did start quaking and shaking once in the surgery room (also small, I did not look around much in fear of it making me panic last minute!)

They had me scoot from the prep bed to the surgery table. There was a pink foam headrest for me to slot the back of my head into. They strap you in with arms out like ur being crucified and thats when it became more Real for me so i started shaking a lot, but I can't tell how bad it was under the heavy blankets. I think I shook more and for longer when I went for my MRI (which also isnt/wasnt scary but the body freaks out for no reason). Im surprised at myself for being so Calm ykwim

Anyway, strapped in, had monitoring stuff stickered onto my body: my sternum, side of body under chest/armpits, and another pair I cant remember where. Hair was put up in hair net. My hospital gown was untied as the tie starts halfway across your body and goes under, but this was not done in an invasive-to-privacy way, and I was still fully covered by it (and then recovered by blankets)

(3 separate people asked me how many kids I had throughout this whole venture, and were Shocked at my response. This was the other most nerve wracking part as I started to get weirdly anxious that someone wouldn't like this and cancel my surgery or something. One of the Askers was the anesthesiologist.) Doctor/surgeon came in and asked if i was ready and talked about how he loved being under anesthesia LOL. Everybody was speaking about their opinions about childbirth and sterilization and parenthood, but amongst each other and not to influence my decision, along with telling each other to set up XYZ. Once again everybody is charmed by Cheye's usage of the word "yay"

Ive never had surgery before, so I was worried about anesthesia. In my mind i was imagining it to be being fully lucid and then your vision darkens and takes you, which was scary to me like i dont wanna be freaking out and then immediately KNOCKED out!

But it was gradual which actually made it more calming for me...the funny nurse put the oxygen mask over me, I got very nervous bc she said to take deep breaths and honestly i couldnt even breath much at all in it, and breathing out also felt very restricting and like I was going to choke, but it wasn't Distressing. I just breathed slowly and it worked anyway.

In a few seconds I felt a cool tingle in my arm that then sort of burst into my torso, and my whole body felt really light and my eyelids draggggggged half closed, but it felt very mechanical and involuntarily (like slowly closing window blinds...or like how the brightness options on a 3DS are numbered buttons ykwim? Like, Closing 1, Closing 2, Closing 3, Closed Halfway, all pressed in quick succession). Heavy heavy heavy. I stayed in that half closed state for a while! (Probably not even a full minute, but it also wasn't instant...i still had time to think and Hear conversation etc, as well as feel that there was some mechanical thing tightening around my spread arms along with the hand adjusted straps)

The funny nurse was telling me to relax and have sweet dreams and that they wld take care of me and such. And then I was out. I do not remember my vision fully fading or eyes fully closing, in my mind they stayed in that half closed state.

Ive heard ppl say it feels like blinking and waking up, but it did feel like sleep to me!!!! I know dreaming under anesthesia isn't really a thing, but waking up felt like....i was really waking up like normal and trying to remember traces of a dream after several hours of sleep.

I always thought it was silly seeing ppl ask if the surgery was over when they come out of it, but I did that. But like i swear it came out involuntarily??? Like i knew it was over....i think it was because I couldnt really SEE anything when i woke up, I could only hear staff speaking to me, and I can barely remember what they said. Vision was VERY very blurred. So I guess that question came out as substitute for Where Am I, and Who's Here With Me? Speaking felt like when audio unsyncs from a video, with my voice trailing far behind my words. I also remember being really bewildered bc there was some sort of residue on my lips, like when they're chapped and dry and cracking. I learned later this was bc of the intubation but i Didnt Know That Yet so i was just scared and thirsty.

Adding another "pain was less bad than the average period which has one Doubled Over" statement to the pile. Pain was at 3/10 or 4/10, which is to say if period pain is a whole abdomen event, this pain was small little bruises occasionally being brushed up against, just small throbs of sore pain in the 3 incision spots. I got an incision inside my belly button and that was the most present sensation, but that might also be bc I hate anything having to do with that area in general 😭 always feels weird.

My throat felt very DRY. It wasn't pain yet, it felt like when you're thirsty + dehydrated and your lips stick together at any slight moisture, but in the throat. Kept trying to look around and wiggle my fingers and toes in hopes that'd help me Come Out Of It sooner bc not being able to see was really frustrating me. I could not make out the face of the person watching over me for some time. I really wanted water !

HORROR when the person looking over me said i had a catheter still in me. Nightmare I wasnt counting on actually happening and wasnt mentally prepared for. I was told I would have one placed (make sure to ask if this is a concern for you!) but i thought they'd take it out before I woke up... I cldnt even feel it in me when I was told this! Which is good.

The staff of course had to remove blankets and open my gown a bit to access the area. But I did not feel any distress about this at the time.

Had a very funny slow motion distress response bracing self for removal. It did not hurt or sting at all, it just felt like [something I cant describe here]. Just pressure! It was pulled out gently but quickly of course.

After 1 hr i was wheeled to a separate private recovery room. The nurse uncovered my lower area to check if incisions were doing good so far as well as to check if I had been provided with a pad/underwear, as some patients have blood or other fluids come out as a result of the surgery.

parents came in, was so grateful for juice but in dismay over my food item being orange (i dont like citrus flavor) jello (i dont like jello 😭) i consumed all of both.

I also worried I'd feel weird about throwing my body parts away. But I dont feel anything ^_^ just feels very awesome and natural

Sore throat started further developing. Nurse came in after some time here, taught me how to Get Up. Was scary! I was worried about it hurting, but it was just more soreness.

Was able to go to the bathroom, went a very little bit but it was enough. I was very scared about seeing my incisions and being disgusted by them....but I caught a glance and it was Okey Yey. They are covered in surgical Glue and dont look gnarly, swollen, red or anything they look very cool ^_^ got dressed in stages as there was nothing to set clothes down on and sat back down on the bed. The bathroom connected to another room where somebody else was preparing for surgery.

Nurse came in with final post op instructions, upon describing nausea to me my skin got cold, stomach activated and krusty krab exploded with it. She was just barely able to get me a bag to throw up in. This exacerbated the throat pain. She encouraged me to get it all out especially since I also expelled gas, which is a good thing.

IV removal didnt hurt! Same level of pain as the tape around it being yanked off. I couldn't even tell it was over. I was wheeled out of the hospital. ^_^ i wore an oversized dress my sister lent me, and cheap target sandals so I wouldnt have to bend to tie shoes. My dad pulled up the car right outside. I brought a pillow to be a barrier in between the seat belt and my stomach.

Its 6:48 neow and I am laying down, but the pain is (currently) the same. I had another nausea (and release. Also exacerbated throat pain.) spell (while in walmart picking up the pain meds), was boiling alive in my very hot room, and was a bit dehydrated which may have contributed to some misery and nausea but as of right now I'm ok, i changed into lighter clothes, drank water, ate a bit, and situated self in a room with ac....i worry about getting up and becoming nauseous again 😭 i hate throwing up.

People are right about it being more discomfort than pain! You have to walk around every few hours, and it doesnt hurt but every step feels like my bellybutton is kinda pinching inward. Being tugged at from the inside. Ive gotten to a point where even chuckling makes me feel this very Sour soreness (not regular dull soreness) so maybe ill start the meds soon if necessary.... Squatting to sit doesnt hurt in a debilitating way, neither does actually sitting or putting on/stepping into clothing.

I couldnt nap because laying on my side doesnt hurt the incisions or anything, BUT its just the strange discomfort again. The weight of gravity on the body makes the incision sites feel very very weird in an abstract way i cant describe. It isnt pain. It feels like a mismatched sensation of some sort. Like if you touched your nose and somehow felt the touch on your knee. Adjacent to this. A very specific sensation sits in all the incision sites and drags down through your mattress to the ground and it feels Weird.

If you get up properly it really doesn't hurt to do so! Use your leg to get yourself fully onto your side, then use your arm to push yourself up into a sitting position.

I am very nervous from when all the good strong hospital meds wear off t_t i heard the day after is a struggle because of dis. but ive got the prescribed pain management on hand (extra strength ibuprofen and tylenol with codeine!! O_O) neow at least ^_^;

OH, AND THE DOCTOR TOOK FOTOS OF MY INSIDES LIKE I ASKED! ^_^ 🫶 I have glossy printed souvenir now! I dont exactly know wtf im looking at but its awesum LOL maybe i will ask for details at the follow up!

[wolferine]

Heart Skips a Beat - Part 2

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha faces her worst nightmare when a rescue mission goes wrong…

Warnings: Violence, blood

Word Count: 1837

Part 1

Tags: @blkmxrvel @blackxwidowsxwife @marvelwomen-simp

When Natasha sees your eyes close, she finally comes back to her senses. She squirms away from Steve, crawling under an ambulance and making her way towards you. She ignores Steve telling her to stay put and doesn’t hear Clint telling police officers the direction the bullets came from. All she can think about is bringing you to safety.

The ambulance engine is still running, causing its underside to reach temperatures that make Natasha feel like she is hiding in a furnace. She holds her breath from the fumes as she crawls to the front of the vehicle, throwing her arm out and reaching for your hand.

“Y/N!” she screams. “I’m right here! Hold on!” Her fingertips brush yours and she grabs onto your wrist tightly. You’re bigger and heavier than her, but the adrenaline gives her strength. With a massive heave, she drags you under the ambulance. You smear through the puddle of your own blood and it soaks through the back of your shirt. 

There isn’t even enough room for her to lift her head, but she grabs onto both your arms, digging her elbows into the ground and crawling backwards. “I got you, Y/N. I got you,” she pants. But the lack of space and your deadweight make it impossible for her to pull you all the way through, so she backs out from under the ambulance. “Steve, help me!” she shouts.

“Move!” Steve says to her, although his shoulders are too broad to fit in the narrow gap. However, his arms are long enough to reach both of your hands, and all it takes is one big tug for you to come sliding out from the ambulance. 

Your eyes fly open suddenly, awakened by the agonizing pain coursing through your shoulder like a lightning bolt. You scream, and as much as it makes Natasha’s heart hurt, she’s glad to see that you’re still alive. 

“You guys need to get out of here right now!” Clint yells. “Take the ambulance!”

Steve pulls you into a standing position and wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you onto his shoulders effortlessly. You flop over him like a ragdoll, pain pulsing in your stomach when you bump against his chest.

BOOM.

A bullet shatters the sideview mirror of the ambulance.

“Go, go!” Natasha urges, putting herself between the danger and you and Steve. Steve runs with you to the back of the ambulance and flings the door open. There is no gurney, so Natasha helps him lay you on the floor and climbs in after you.

“Stay with Y/N. I’ll drive,” Steve offers, going around to the front. “Clint, we’re taking Y/N to the Quinjet! Hold the scene down!”

“Copy that!” Clint is just as concerned for your safety, but he knows you’re in good hands. Steve jumps into the driver’s seat and throws the ambulance in reverse.

BOOM.

The windshield explodes.

“Let’s go!” Natasha screams, ducking her head.

“Hold on!” Steve backs into a sharp U-turn. The tires screech as they find traction on the road to accelerate forward.

Natasha practically lays on top of you to prevent you from rolling around. From a shelf, she grabs a handful of gauze packets, tearing them open with her teeth. She rips your shirt open and presses the gauze first to your shoulder, then another to the side of your stomach. You’re completely soaked in blood and it continues to pump out of you with each heartbeat. Your face has faded to a sickly pale. 

“N-Nat,” you whisper, trying to move but pinned down by the pain. “N-Nat—”

“Shh, it’s okay,” she comforts. “Just keep your eyes open for me, okay?”

You see the blood smeared on her face, her neck, and her hands, too delirious to remember that it’s yours. “A-Are you h-hurt?” you stammer.

Natasha wants to laugh and cry at the same time. You’re so in love with her that even in the face of death you don’t even think about yourself. “No, I’m fine,” she says, grabbing onto your hand and interlocking your fingers. She looks over at Steve, veering through parked cars and roadblocks. “Can we hurry it up a little?” she asks in panic, even though she knows he’s driving as fast as he can.

“I’m trying!” Steve swerves around a fire hydrant and the sudden movement jolts everyone in the ambulance. Natasha presses down on you too hard and you grunt in pain.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes. “We’re almost there. We’re almost there.”

Your vision fades into fuzzy shapes and blurred colors. Even breathing seems to be too much of a task for you. Steve parks behind the Quinjet and comes around to help carry you in.

“Do you need me to go with you?” Steve asks as he lays you across the back seats of the Quinjet.

“No.” Natasha shakes her head. “Stay and help Barton.”

Steve doesn’t even try to argue. “We’ll find who did this, Nat. I promise.” He goes to the controls at the front and presses a few buttons. “The coordinates for the Tower are set. You’ll autopilot all the way there. Just make sure to update the medical team on Y/N’s condition.”

“Thanks, Steve.”

“Everything will be okay.” He places his hand on Natasha’s shoulder for a moment before jogging back to the ambulance. As soon as he’s off the Quinjet, the door raises shut and the engines blast on. You’re several states away from New York, but at the speeds the plane can travel, you should be there in minutes. You just have to hang on until then.

Natasha leaves your side only to grab more gauze, pressing it against your bullet wounds to slow the bleeding. She rolls you to your side so there’s no pressure on your front or back, but grimaces when she sees that your back looks as bad as your front.

“N-Nat,” you try whispering again, but she is quick to shush you.

“Not now, okay? Just stay awake for me, Y/N.”

You’ve never felt so weak before. It feels like you were hit by a bus and ground up by its tires. Your mind processes in slow-motion—probably a side effect of the blood loss—and you already forgot how you got into the Quinjet. But the physical pain isn’t your greatest concern anymore. You just don’t want to lose your fight and leave her.

Natasha fits an oxygen mask around your face and the cool air is comforting, but you know your time is ticking away. You don’t notice the Quinjet hiss to a landing or acknowledge the team of doctors suddenly hovering over you.

“We’ll do the surgery in room six!”

“Prep a blood transfusion!”

“Two gunshot wounds from a large-caliber gun!”

The doctors move you to a gurney and wheel you off the Quinjet. Natasha holds onto your hand as they take you to the surgery room, but a doctor stops her from entering with you.

“No, Romanoff. You gotta stay out here. We’ll take it from here.”

Natasha doesn’t fight back, letting your fingers slip through hers as you disappear behind the doors.

***********************************************************************

“Any updates?” Clint and Steve finally arrive a few hours later, but you’re still in surgery.

“Not yet.” Natasha paces the kitchen anxiously. Although she found the time to wash your blood off her hands and face, she hasn’t changed out of her uniform yet.

“Nat, you should get cleaned up. Y/N isn’t going anywhere,” Clint says.

“I know, I just…I want to be there when—” She can’t finish her sentence, falling into Clint’s arms and crying into his shoulder.

“Y/N is a fighter, remember?” Clint says, rubbing her back.

“But the amount of blood—”

“Super soldiers don’t go down easy,” Steve reminds her. “Y/N will pull through. And besides, you’ll be there to help with the recovery.”

Natasha nods, pulling away from Clint and wiping her face. “I’m sorry I froze when I saw Y/N get shot—”

“What are you apologizing for?” Clint asks.

“I don’t know—I put you all in danger because I couldn’t get myself out of the way—” she hiccups. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Steve assures. “In fact, you were the one who dragged Y/N to safety, remember? I couldn’t fit under the ambulance and Clint was just sitting around like a duck—”

“Excuse you,” Clint interrupts, and Natasha smiles thinly.  

“So, did you find who did this?” she asks.

“Uh—” Clint and Steve look at each other awkwardly. “Natasha, we—”

“Did you find them?” Natasha repeats with more force. Clint motions for Steve to explain.

“That’s the thing,” Steve says. “We don’t know who did this. We scoped out the whole area with the police. We went out more than a mile, but we couldn’t find anything. No shell casings, nothing.”

“Oh, so you’re telling me a ghost shot and tried to kill Y/N?” Natasha scoffs.

“No, we…” Steve tries to find the right words. “We think it was a setup, maybe like a hired assassin or something.”

“Who would want to kill Y/N?” Natasha asks.

“That’s what we need to figure out.”

Natasha knows you have a lot of baggage from your past, particularly when you were forced into illegal covert operations by the government. But it’s been a long time since then. You became your own person and changed your life for the better. Unfortunately, not everyone sees the side of you that Natasha and the Avengers do.

When Clint and Steve leave to shower and change, Natasha finally does the same. She dresses in clean clothes and curls up on your shared bed, inhaling your scent through the pillow and blankets.

Sometime later, Clint visits and knocks on the door. “Hey, Nat? Y/N just got out of surgery—” He doesn’t even get a chance to finish his sentence and is almost run over by Natasha as she hurries over to the medical bay. She doesn’t know which specific room they’re keeping you in, but it’s like she’s drawn to your very presence and finds the correct one instantly.

You lie upright in the bed, propped forward with pillows so there’s less pressure on your back. Your right arm is in a sling and your entire torso is wrapped in bandages. An IV drip leads into the veins on your hand, while a blood pouch sends blood into the vein inside of your elbow. You have an oxygen tube up your nose and looped around your ears.

“I heard the doctor went a little overboard on the anesthesia,” Clint says from behind Natasha, startling her. “You know, with the super soldier serum and everything. Y/N will probably be out of it for a while.” Natasha walks to your side and kneels, gently taking your hand. Your skin is clammy and colder than normal, but your pulse beats strongly.

“I’ll be here as long as it takes.” Natasha raises your hand, mindful of the wires around your wrist, and kisses your fingers.

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

Click here for Part 3!

AN: Thanks for the amazing support from everyone! Definitely didn’t think I’d get that kind of response, but I’m extremely grateful for you all. The next part will reveal the identity of the shooter, so I hope you’ll stick around for that. :) Peace out!

[morganaspendragonss]

quédate un segundo más (2/8)

and the second chapter! lots of research went into this, but i am not a medical professional and there probably will be certain errors.

ao3 | 1.5k | cancer, chemotherapy

Owen Strand is not a quiet man. He always has thoughts or comments at the ready to fill any silence; always a joke to crack or a story to tell.

So when he’s been silent for a full ten minutes, TK knows they’re in dangerous territory.

“Dad, please,” he begs. “Say something.”

“What do you want me to say?”

There’s a terrifyingly calm, hollow quality to his dad’s voice, a kind that TK has never heard before in his life. It chills him right down to the bone, and he clutches onto Carlos’s hard with a strength that must hurt, though of course Carlos doesn’t complain.

He never complains about anything anymore, not even about TK’s annoying habits. He’ll just quietly solve the problem himself, always with a smile, and it feels weird. It feels like he’s already an invalid, like his life has already stopped long before he’s dead.

It’s something that TK knows he’ll have to address, sooner rather than later, but his father still isn’t saying anything, and TK really, really needs him to.

“I don’t know! Just…please.” TK’s voice cracks and tears spring unbidden to his eyes. At least that gets his dad to look at him, finally, but the pain and grief in his expression almost breaks him again.

“TK…” He sighs heavily, then abruptly stands and starts pacing, fingers drumming an erratic beat across his knuckles. “Are they sure? Are they sure that it’s— Because back in New York, they told me my chances weren’t the best, and look at me now! The doctors here are miracle workers, I swear; let me call Doctor Jacobs and talk to her, I’m sure there’s something—”

“Dad, stop!”

His dad stops pacing and looks at him, wounded. “You told me to say something.”

“I know! Not that, though.”

“Then, what?”

“That you support me? That you’ll be here? And, I know”—his dad’s mouth snaps shut, indignation wilting into guilt—“I know you will be. But say it anyway?”

“Of course I will. Whenever and however you need me. I just think—”

“Doctor Jacobs is on my treatment team,” TK interrupts, quieter this time. He meets his dad’s eyes, aching at the pain he’s putting everyone through, and he sees something give way. “This isn’t something you can fix, Dad.”

It takes another minute or so before his dad finally slumps and moves to sit back down. And it’s funny—TK can’t help but wish he was still fighting against the inevitable because that, at least, is familiar. Just as it did when Carlos broke down in his arms, the reality of TK’s situation becomes that much more real, and the noose around his neck tightens just a bit more.

“What have the doctors said?”

TK takes a deep breath, looking back at Carlos for support. He smiles and squeezes his hand, but there’s something sad behind the gesture. There always will be now, TK supposes.

“They’re gonna put me on a chemo course. Obviously it won’t… But it will help with the, um, the pain. They said there are possibilities of surgery to deal with some of the side effects, but it probably wouldn’t be worth going through with it in my case.” Sensing another interruption coming, TK levels his dad with a hard look—as hard as he can manage, anyway.

“Dad, you know why. I’ve got the option of support care and they said we’ll deal with side effects as they come. After that…”

He trails off, the mere thought of talking about the after making him feel about to throw up. In truth, the doctor hadn’t said much about what comes after treatment, claiming that it’s too soon to think about it, but TK knows. Or, he can imagine. He’d done enough of it years ago, when it was his dad on this side of things.

Days spent in bed, too weak to even stay awake for more than a few minutes. Constant discomfort, being drugged out of his mind on pain meds he won’t be able to refuse, time losing all meaning as he slowly loses the fight.

And then…

And then.

His dad nods and stays silent, and this time, TK doesn’t mind.

There’s nothing else to say, after all.

*

TK balls up his dirty socks, gaze flicking between them and the hamper. It would take three steps, maybe four, to cross the room and put them in; TK knows because Carlos loves to remind him every time he throws them and misses.

Carlos hates when he does that.

So TK throws the socks across the room, and, like always, misses.

And, like always these days, Carlos says nothing and simply bends to put the socks where they belong.

“Stop it,” TK blurts out.

Carlos freezes and frowns, a deep crease appearing between his eyebrows. “Stop what?”

“That!” He gestures violently towards the socks, which only serves to make more confusion appear on Carlos’s face. “I know that it annoys you when I do that, so tell me! Don’t—Don’t be so nice all the time!”

Now Carlos looks beyond confused. “You don’t want me to be nice?”

TK groans, flinging his head back—mistake—and turns towards the window, only half to hide the sudden dizziness. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Behind him, TK hears Carlos sigh quietly, then soft footsteps make their way across the room. Carlos’s arms slip around his waist and his chin lands on his shoulder, TK stiffening a moment in the embrace before melting into it. They stand there in silence for a long time, staring out across their backyard, Carlos clearly giving TK the time he needs to figure out what to say.

“I want things to be normal,” he whispers eventually, not daring to look Carlos in the eyes. “I’m not going to break if you tell me to pick my socks up or do the dishes because I left them soaking in the sink for ages. Things don’t have to change—I don’t want them to change.”

“TK…” Carlos breathes, but TK isn’t done.

“I know that one day—one day soon—they’ll have to. But, not right now, okay? I need it to not be now.”

A second passes, then TK feels Carlos pressing the socks into his hands. “Okay,” he says, and it feels like a reprieve.

*

It seems like they’ve just started to return to something resembling normality when the first chemo session comes along and smashes it all to pieces. He’s told to go in two hours early so they can run tests, but as soon as TK steps through the hospital doors, he feels as though that time could just as easily be thirty minutes or thirty hours.

When he’s finally seated in the recliner with a nurse prepping to insert his IV, a sudden panic overwhelms him and his chest heaves as tears well up in his eyes.

He doesn’t want this.

He doesn’t—

He doesn’t want to die.

TK doesn’t realise the nurse has stopped working until a firm grip on his hand brings him back to reality. He looks at Carlos with wide eyes, his reassuring smile clear even through TK’s blurred vision.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, reaching up with his free hand to wipe away the tears making their way down TK’s cheeks. “I’m going to be right here the entire time, I promise.”

It’s a promise that extends beyond the chemo session, and TK doesn’t doubt that Carlos is going to keep it. It still terrifies him that today is the start of the end of his life—at least, that’s how he sees it—but Carlos’s hand in his is enough to give TK the courage to relax and allow the nurse to start his IVs.

The session passes relatively uneventfully. TK never forgets where he is or why, but Carlos’s soft voice is a comfort, as it always has been for him. He feels weird as the drugs start to take effect, like he’s floating and on the verge of sleep, but also hyper-vigilant of everything around him. The nurse stops by at intervals that feel random but are probably regular to check his vitals, and then, finally, to take the line out.

Through it all, Carlos is there.

Once treatment is over and the precautionary thirty minutes after have elapsed, TK’s eyes are growing heavy and he knows he’ll probably fall asleep as soon as he gets in the car. Carlos supports him as they walk out and eases him into the passenger seat, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. He’s still smiling, like he has been the entire day, though TK doesn’t understand how, when he knows how much Carlos, too, must be hurting.

He wriggles his body until he’s facing Carlos, watching him through half-closed eyes. “You can cry, you know,” he mumbles, needing to say it even though he knows what Carlos’s response will be. “You don’t have to be so strong all the time.”

Carlos sighs and starts the ignition. “Yeah, I do.”

TK doesn’t argue.

[joheunsaram]

To Make A Power Couple - 07 (knj)

Chapter 7: Blanket Forts

THIS IS A REPOST SINCE I LOST ACCESS TO MY OLD ACCOUNT. PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG FOR UPDATES ON THIS SERIES.

previous | masterlist | next

Summary- At the hospital, Namjoon tries to make sense of what transpired as Y/N recovers.

word count- 6k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- R

genre- series, fluff, angst, action, strangers2lovers

warnings- violence, blood, stalker, hospital, extremely fluffy scenes of Joon as a caretaker

a.n- wow i literally wrote this the fastest i’ve written any chapter! i hope you like it. although there is angst there is also a lot of tooth rotting fluff. special s/o to @jungkooksbroski for beta reading this 💕

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sscheherazadee, @rjsmochii , @jinjccns​ , @joyful-jimin @sideblogger @agustdpeach @diamonddia-mond

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Namjoon held your hand in both of his, his forehead resting upon them, as he waited for you to wake up from surgery, the beep of the heart monitor far too loud and ominous. His hood was on his head as his elbows dug into the ratty blue basketball shorts he had thrown on in a hurry. Even though the doctors had assured him that you were going to be fine, he was still worried. He couldn’t believe that you had gotten hurt at his own house of all places and he felt responsible as he replayed the scene in his head.

You looked so small next to the woman attacking you, it made his blood run cold. She was easily twice your size and the malice her gaze held was frightening. He barely registered her presence, how could she have been in his room the whole time he was home? Why didn’t he put his bags away so he could have caught her before she attacked? Why didn’t he hear someone else was home? He remembered hearing a noise while starting food prep and he assumed it was Moni just messing around. How stupid he had been. He was supposed to be your boyfriend, wasn’t it his responsibility to protect you?

He wasn’t even fast enough to pull her off you. He remembers time slowing down, his arms around the intruder as he tried his best to move her away but she seemed to be on a rampage, stomping on your arm. He remembers the moment her heavy boots almost flattened your arm. It was as if she wore them for the occasion. How did she even get in? He had never been happier to have Jungkook and Jimin around. If it weren’t for their help, he doesn’t even want to imagine how he would have managed. He could still feel the adrenaline in his body, hours later. The guards downstairs had been quick to arrive and he remembers sitting in his underwear trying to wake you up as he watched your arm twisted in an unnatural angle. Your scream still ricocheted through his head and he held your hand tighter, wishing you’d wake up already. The doctor had said it would take a couple of hours but he was on edge.

“But I love you!” the intruder had screamed as she was being dragged off by the guards and Namjoon hated his fame once again. He hated that it affected you, that it hurt you. If he was a nobody, you would’ve never been in this situation. You deserve someone who could hold your hand in public without fear that it might cause a controversy. Someone who you could show off at your events, someone you could travel with, someone who could take you out at normal hours to exhibits and didn’t have to sneak around with at concerts. Someone who screamed his love from rooftops, unlike him who only hid you away.

“Hyung. She’s okay. The doctor said she will be okay.” Jimin spoke softly, his arms around Namjoon’s shoulders as he hugged him back, feeling dizzy. Across from him Jungkook paced in the deluxe private hospital room that their company had reserved for them. The big room had a large bed, couch and television. Its warm wood furnishing and several fake plants were meant to emit a feeling of warmth but regardless of the size or decor, Namjoon felt like he was suffocating.

“She’s in surgery. Surgery. Because of me. Jimin what do I do?” He could feel a lump in his throat as he tried to stay strong. He knew logically that you would be fine, but all he could think was 1%. That’s what the doctor said the chance was of anything going wrong. He knew that millions of people broke their arms and were perfectly fine after a few months but you were his one in a million. The fact that he even met you was so random that he thought it fate. You always managed to do the impossible and in his emotional state that 1% chance was too large. Far too large.

Yoongi had arrived shortly after Jimin messaged the group about the home invasion and he stood next to Jimin and Namjoon, his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder as he tried to force him to drink water. The three men tried to reassure Namjoon in vain as he finally let go of Jimin to sit on the couch, his eyes glued to the door, pulling on the sleeves of his sweater as his leg bounced on its own accord.

After almost two hours he saw the door open as you were brought in on a stretcher, still asleep as the nurses moved you to the bed, checking your vitals. Yoongi had to physically restrain Namjoon from running over to you so the workers could do their job, but as soon as they were gone, he was by your side.

You were okay. Nothing went wrong and it felt like a boulder had been lifted off his shoulders as he all but collapsed, holding your hand, his head gingerly resting on your stomach. The boys bid him goodbye soon after making sure he was okay, giving the two of you privacy but ensuring Namjoon that their phones would be on them in case he needed someone with him. No one was getting sleep tonight.

Before Namjoon could let his negativity flood him further, he felt your hand twitch between his and he sat up, looking at your face intently as you finally opened your eyes looking at him groggily.

“Oh thank fuck!” He exclaimed, standing up without letting go of your hand, instead squeezing it tighter as he looked over at you. Your other arm was in a cast, laying over your stomach, both your eyes bruised and swollen underneath, your nose still red as you looked at him with wide eyes. His heart pained as he looked at the evidence of his failings, but for you he smiled, small and not reaching his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m sorry. Who are you?” you whispered, your voice hoarse. Namjoon felt his heart race, like it was going to fall out of his chest, panic slowly rising.

“Who…? You don’t know me?”

“Wait… aren’t you famous?” You asked again and he dropped your hand in shock, shaking as he rushed towards the door. Memory loss? That wasn’t a symptom they mentioned. You didn’t have a concussion and it scared him that the doctors missed something, fear making him almost sprint the short the distance.

“What the fuck? Okay. Don’t worry. I’m going to get the doctor!”

Before he could reach the door, he heard you giggle, turning around in disbelief as he heard your next words. “Joon! Stop! I was kidding!”

“You were kidding? You were KIDDING?!” He almost yelled, before checking himself. His mouth hung open for a moment as you watched him walk towards you slowly and standing over you, his brows scrunched into a pained expression on his face. “Red. Red, Y/N. You can’t joke right now, do you know how scared I was?” He whispered, sudden relief turning into exhaustion as he felt his knees almost buckle. He had never felt this overwhelmed before.

“Hey. Joonie, baby. I’m sorry.” You called to him gently, reaching for him, your fingers squeezing reassuringly around his forearm that hung next to you. Hearing him call red made you feel suddenly guilty. Even in your worst fights where you were both screaming at each other, the most either of you had called for was yellow. You had only wanted to lighten his mood, crack a joke to make him smile for real but your post-anaesthesia brain couldn’t come up with anything better.

“You’re sorry?” He looked at you incredulously before his long arms were placed gingerly around your waist as his head reached for the crook of your neck, resting there and he inhaled. You smelt different, like disinfectant and he hated it, feeling his lip quiver as he spoke against your skin in quick, flurried words.. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, baby. Fuck! Why are you even with me? I literally put your life in danger! You should break up with me! You’re gonna have a gigantic scar and like metal inside you forever! You deserve so much -”

“Oh man! A scar? Who’s gonna marry me now?” You interrupted his rant and tried to make your voice lighter, wanting to ease his worries, assure him that you were back to normal. You looked at your useless right arm, wishing you could hug him but settled for slowly running your fingers through his hair with your left to calm him down.

“I’ll marry you. I’ll do it right now!” He moved his head away from your neck, leaning his weight on his hands that now rested next to you on the bed, looking at you intensely. His eyes brimmed with unshed tears and you felt your heart break. You cupped his face, your thumb stroking his cheek as you tried to comfort him.

“Come here. Lie down.” You winced a little as you scooted to the side despite his protests, making room for him. He reluctantly laid down, his head in the crook of your arm and his feet dangling off the end of the bed. You slowly caressed his shoulder and felt him relax as he nuzzled the side of your chest, his arm draping over your hips carefully. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. You’re the one that’s hurt.” His voice was small, muffled against you as his thumb traced meaningless patterns against you where it lay.

“Baby you literally asked me to break up with you and marry you in the same breath - you are not fine.” You spoke softly, your hand squeezing his shoulder as he took a shuddering breath. You looked at the dim tv that had the hospital’s menu channel on, displaying the time, 3:21 am. He argued not to worry about him, but you couldn’t help it. He had never looked more exhausted in your presence - even after twelve hours of dance practice on three hours of sleep, he didn’t look this drained. Your fingers moved upwards lightly scraping his scalp, his arm tightening around you, as you spoke. “I love you, you know that right?”

He sniffled, the hospital gown getting damp as he told you about his earlier worries. You hushed him, comforting him with words and coaxing him to sleep. His hand wrapped around the index finger poking out of your cast as he fell asleep after a while, his snores music to your ears. No matter what he believed, you still felt safe with him next to you.

———————————-

You looked at the soft light of dawn as it flows through the window, trying not to move as your arm throbbed in the cast. In the few hours since he fell asleep, Namjoon’s head had moved, now resting on your chest as his arm was draped over your hips, but he looked so peaceful that you dared not wake him up. You barely slept, your pain medication wearing off much too quickly. You had never broken a bone before, and as you thought about how dumb your fifth grade self was for wanting a cast, you wished your boyfriend would wake up at his own accord. You desperately needed to call the nurse for some paracetamol, but you grit your teeth and bore it. You knew you were being stupid and Namjoon would be genuinely pissed if he knew, but looking at his mouth hanging open as he drooled over you made you smile at the endearing picture infront of you.

Unfortunately (or fortunately?), soon a nurse walked in for his morning rounds, waking up a groggy Namjoon who startled, almost falling off the bed, making you hiss as he accidentally held on too hard to your side to keep balance. He stood up, running his hands over his face in order to wake up properly while the nurse did the checkup, providing you with the pain killers you request. Once he leaves, Namjoon moves back to you, putting his arm under your head as this time you nuzzle into his chest. You talked about nothing as the drugs finally took effect, helping you doze off. Namjoon kissed the top of your head as you dropped off mid sentence, a smile on his face because you were alright, but a heaviness in his heart as he looked at the bruises on your face, dark blue and almost black.

———————————-

“Shh… Guys come on. Let her rest!”

Namjoon’s theatrical whisper is the first thing you hear when you wake up again. Your eyes open to your room filled with all your friends. The room had seemed extremely large the last time you were awake but now it seemed tiny. Jiyoung was sitting on the couch typing on her phone with a frown, an Apeach plush on her lap, next to her Siwon was talking animatedly with a tired looking Jungkook munching on some chips. The coffee table in front of them was full of snacks, gifts, and flowers. Seokjin, Yoongi and Jimin were talking about something hushed as they stood near the television, serious looks on their faces. Hoseok was bent over the humidifier in the corner which seemed turned off, messing with the controls and grumbling to himself. Harry sat in the chair next to the bed, talking to Namjoon with Jen standing over him with her hand on his shoulder. Namjoon sat on the bed near your legs, his hand on your calf, and Taehyung sat next to him clinging on his waist. Needless to say, it warmed your heart to see all the people you loved here. Maybe getting injured wasn’t that bad.

You winced as you moved up the bed to get more comfortable and suddenly all the attention was on you, the room turning into a cacophony of “How are you feeling?”s and “Are you okay?”s. Everyone was now crowded around the bed, looking at you with worry, Seokjin even handing you the RJ plush he’d brought along with him stating its healing powers. It was odd to be coddled by such a large group. Overwhelming, but in the best way.

“I’m fine guys. It’s just a broken arm.” You tried to diffuse the worries.

“You should look at your face dude.” Siwon stated, causing Namjoon to sigh, annoyed, and you to ask for a mirror. Oof you looked worse than you felt. By the bruises on your face it was a wonder how your nose wasn’t broken. Sheepishly you tried to explain to the group that it wasn’t that bad, but your friends were not convinced.

Soon the conversation turned from worries about you to who the attacker was in the first place. While you and Namjoon were in the hospital, Jungkook and Jimin had been to the police to give in-depth statements. Turns out Namjoon had a stalker - someone the company and security had been keeping an eye on for months, but who seemed to have fallen off the map 6 weeks ago. Apparently the same one who had caused the dates at the beginning of your relationship to always be under the watchful eye of his security team. No one knows how she had managed to break into the dorms but apparently she had been hiding out in his room for a week, his closet was full of tins of food she had consumed during her stay. It was surreal to hear that someone had been in the house and no one had noticed. It made sense to an extent - no one had been actively living in the dorms for a few weeks, especially not Namjoon so his room was never opened. The boys seemed extra distressed about it, and even thought themselves guilty. Namjoon’s words from last night echoed in your head. He put himself at fault, when really it was this woman’s fault.

No one knew what her plan was when Namjoon returned, and you didn’t want to find out. It might seem odd but you were glad that you were there to protect him in a sense. Apparently seeing you had started such a rage in her that she refused to talk further than the death threats she spewed against you. She was in jail and you hoped she stayed there for a long time.

“The police haven’t taken into account your assault. You should file a report.” Hoseok spoke for the first time, his face hardened. The room seemed in agreement, but you hesitated.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea…” you started, only for Namjoon, who was now seated next to you on the bed with his arm around you, to counter but you continued. “I’m just saying. Police records are public and if someone looks into this person who was charged with stalking Joon the same night as attacking me, they might put two and two together and I don’t want that to reflect on him or any of you guys.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Y/N?” It was Yoongi who spoke, clearly irritated and impatient. “Who cares about that? She attacked you, she deserves to be in jail.” His voice was quiet, but the frustration in his tone was not lost.

“She’s already in jail though… It’s not gonna make a difference.”

“Noona… I know it’s not our decision but you didn’t see yourself when she was attacking you.” Jungkook’s voice wavered as he looked at you with hurt in his eyes. “She deserves to pay for what she did…”

“Guys… I know you want the best for me, but it’s too risky… Even you all being here right now is too risky!” It was time for your voice to waver as you suddenly realized the impact of having all of them in the room. All it took was one shitty quality photo from a nurse’s Samsung to ruin their image. You didn’t know how you’d be able to handle it if you were responsible for their first big scandal.

“Okay. I’m going to stop you right there. This is a private place we always use. This is not a risk.” Seokjin spoke slowly, enunciating each word as if trying to explain the situation to a five year old. He didn’t do it in a condescending manner, more to make you understand. “Please stop worrying about us. Our company has stopped way bigger scandals from surfacing. Namjoon, can you please make her understand?”

Namjoon sighed loudly next to you, his arm tightening around you to pull you closer. It felt comforting, but you still felt slightly cornered. You just couldn’t see the logic in what they were saying. The attacker’s jail time would probably not change much with an assault added, at least you didn’t think so - so why was this a big deal.

“It’s her choice, hyung. I’m not going to force her to press charges if she doesn’t want to.” Namjoon looked steely at his member, before turning to you and softening. “But Y/N, I really do want you to make that decision without thinking of me or the rest of us. Can you do that?”

“No. Sorry. I can’t.” You were adamant and now you were starting to get annoyed. Namjoon was right - it was your choice - and it felt nice to have him on your side, at least partially, through this argument, but it didn’t make sense not to make it an isolated discussion. “You’re part of the situation and I can’t just make the decision without adding you to it. I’m not pressing charges.”

You heard a loud snort from Yoongi. “Why are you being an idiot?” He spoke to which Hoseok vocally agreed, causing you to almost yell your explanation in exasperation, before Harry broke the argument asking everyone to take a break and to lay off you.

There was thick tension in the room and it seemed to have sapped the air out of you. You felt uneasy, like no matter how deeply you inhaled you were breathless. You felt claustrophobic suddenly, squeezing Namjoon’s thigh, trying to control your heartbeat. Namjoon saw the distress on your face, immediately requesting everyone to move outside. It didn’t take them long to leave and somehow that helped you feel calmer.

When the room was empty, Namjoon looked at you. Turning to him, you buried your face in his chest, squishing the white alpaca between you and moving your injured arm on his stomach to hug him, despite the sharp pain that made you hiss. Breathing in his scent, somehow made the stress of last night catch up to and you cried. Namjoon held your head gently to his chest as you tangled your legs in his, wanting to almost disappear into him. You didn’t know why you were suddenly crying, but you couldn’t help it - it was like a dam broke, like you were leaking, your emotions cascading out of you onto Namjoon’s sweater. You couldn’t control your sobs and you wondered how loud you were being.

Namjoon felt his heart break as he held you. He had only seen you cry like this once -  the night he asked you to be his girlfriend - and it pained him that he was partially responsible for your tears today. He didn’t know what to do other than whisper “you’re safe now” repeatedly against your hair as you clung to him clumsily. He shouldn’t have let everyone visit so soon. He should’ve thought ahead. Of course you were overwhelmed, you were traumatized. He was an idiot.

When you calmed down enough to look at him, he wiped your tears gently, barely even touching your skin, and handed you some water from the bedside table. He tried to assure you the best he could, interrupted intermittently by nurses and discharge forms. He didn’t bring up pressing charges again and you were grateful to him for that.

He helped you change into clothes Siwon had picked up for you, insisting you take the wheelchair to the car despite your protests (“My arm’s broken, not my leg Joonie!”). Before you entered your apartment Namjoon asked his security team to do a sweep. You would never admit it to him but having the place checked out before you entered made you extremely relieved. You knew it was irrational to think you’d have another stalker waiting for you but it genuinely made you feel lighter, your anxiety ebbing away.

He spent the next few hours quietly worrying about little things, changing the code to your door, checking every lock, making you tea, and even cleaning your place to ensure you had “optimum comfort”, while forcing you to stay in bed regardless of your protests. After a while you couldn’t take him running around and murmuring to himself, especially when he decided to order from six restaurants for dinner. Walking into the kitchen where he obsessively cleaned a single spot on the countertop, you pulled him away.

“Joonie. Stop.” you gently touched his hand, startling him anyways as he looked at you in alarm.

“Oh. Do you need anything? Tell me, I’ll get it. Water? Bathroom?” He bent down slightly to look you in the eyes, searching your face for any discomfort.

“Namjoon, I have a broken arm, I’m not an invalid.” You rolled your eyes. It was sweet that he was this concerned but you seriously needed him to stop running around worried.

“Wait, you said Namjoon. Are you mad at me?” He looked alarmed, his eyes wide. Now that you looked at him closely, he didn’t seem to be doing too well either. His eyes seemed sunken behind his glasses, the crease between his eyebrow deep, and his stubble growing out more than you’d ever seen. You wondered if he got much sleep after you dozed off this morning. He even seemed skinnier somehow, though you chalk that up to your imagination.

“No baby I’m not mad at you. Just stop… obsessing. I’m fine. I swear.” You cupped his face with your working hand, thumb circling his cheekbones in an effort to relax him. He leaned in closing his eyes.

“Oh… oh. I just want to show you I love you. You know like you do…” He mumbled in a slight pout, averting your gaze.

“What are you talking about?”

“You always take care of me when I’m down. I want to take care of you.” You felt your heart glow in your chest. Sometimes you forget how much you love this man, but sometimes he says things that, for a lack of a better analogy, punch you in the face, reminding you why you love him. You wrap your arm around his waist, nuzzling your face into his chest, as he tentatively puts his arm around your head.

“You don’t need to deep clean my kitchen to take care of me babe. Just sit next to me. Let’s watch a movie.” You lean away from his chest to tell him, trying to tug his unmovable body towards the living room.

“Are you sure? I’m almost done. Just this one stain…” He lets go of you to grab the wipe again, only for you to pull at his hand.

“Joon. Leave it.” You say sternly, holding his hand as you lean up. “Kiss me.”

“What? No. You’re hurt.” He moves back and you have to convince your irrational feelings that he wasn’t rejecting you, he was worried about you.

“If it hurts, I’ll tell you.”

“No you won’t. I know you.”

“Joonie!” you whine and he relents, although it’s not a kiss you were hoping for. He settles for a series of small pecks against your lips, so light that you barely felt him. Sure even puckering your lips was slightly painful but you were annoyed, rolling your eyes at his lame attempt. And this was the man who had spanked you so hard once that you couldn’t sit without wincing for two days. The audacity.

Before you could protest he walked with you to the living room and turned on Netflix. Picking a brainless comedy, you forced him to lie down on your lap and even before the title had come up he was asleep.

———————————-

“What wrong baby?” Namjoon came from the studio to find you lying on the ground still dressed in your pajamas with half your hair tied lopsidedly as you whined at seemingly no one, ignoring Moni as he licked your face. If he wasn’t worried that you somehow fell, he would find the sight of you throwing a tantrum like a toddler adorable.

It had been three days since you returned from the hospital, but Namjoon hadn’t seen you looking this dejected before. You had been completely normal on Sunday, even agreeing to the guys coming over for dinner so they could apologize for their behaviour at the hospital. You had riffed like usual, making fun of Jin and Yoongi as they cooked even though it seemed like you itched to get in the kitchen and help, even getting especially giddy as your childhood dream of getting a cast signed by your friends was fulfilled. The next two days, despite everyone’s insistence you had returned to work, working from home. Fortunately Harry and Siwon had rescheduled or taken over all your client meetings to lighten your load. Namjoon had returned to work too but made sure to text you throughout the day and had spent every night with you, regardless of your protests of being an “independent woman that needs no man”.

“I hate this! I’m so frustrated! I feel useless and gross!” you whined as you thrash around on the floor comically with the biggest pout he had ever seen you sport. Dropping his bag near the door and trying not to chuckle at your cute behaviour, Namjoon walked over to you kneeling next to you.

“Aww baby come here” He opened his arms invitingly as you sat up, only for you to sit crossed leg in front of him to begin your rant. Moni moves between your legs and you scratch his head absent-mindedly.

“No! I can’t attend any meetings till my face doesn’t look like fight club, I can’t shower for two more days, I can’t cook because of this dumbass arm, I can’t even tie my hair! TIE MY HAIR, JOON. I’M UGLY, USELESS AND DISGUSTING. Please leave me in my misery.”

Your face turned red as you continued listing minor inconveniences that your broken arm bestowed upon you as Namjoon made his way behind you and put his arms around your waist, his chin on your shoulder in an effort to calm you down. Instantly you relax, huffing as you leaned into his chest. Today has been tough for you. You had spent two hours on a call relaying your game plan for a potential client to Harry and walking him through his nerves about the meeting, which drained you mentally. Your laptop had restarted two times without warning, your roomba had gotten stuck under the couch and you couldn’t reach for it, you had almost fallen in the toilet because the seat was up, you ran out of coffee, and to top it all off it took you ages to write anything with your left hand alone. You felt miserable and dejected.

“You’re beautiful. My slightly stir-crazy, extremely capable, beautiful girlfriend.” Namjoon kissed your cheek as you turned your head to scowl at him, not buying his flattery. He traced your features gently. He wasn’t lying, even with your face patchy with your yellowing bruise and a scab on your lip, you were beautiful to him and he felt his heart swell the longer he looked at your face. He still had trouble believing that you were with him.

“You’re only saying that cause you love me.” You whisper softly as you avert his gaze before starting to whine again as you adjusted your sling. “Ugh I just want to eat McDonald’s and die.”

“Not going to let you die, but let’s get nuggets.”

———————————-

“Baby I got us Chinese!” Namjoon called out as he walked in your home, hands full of takeout. Hearing no answer he called out again to hear your voice coming from the bedroom.

“Joonie! Crawl under here!” He saw you emerge clumsily from the floor, cast pulled close to your chest, as he entered the room where you had piled the blankets between the edge of the bed and the chairs that you had brought near it. “I made us a fort!”

Your giggles made his heart sing as he grinned and crawled under the fort, taking care not to knock it down. You had brought the lamp from the side table under as well, lighting the small space with a soft glow. He could barely sit up, his height making it difficult not to knock down your creation so he opted for laying down, his head on your thigh as you played with his hair. He sighed in content. It felt somewhat meditative sitting in silence with you under the many sheets, the pile of soft pillows in the corner adding extra coziness.

Soon you’re laying side by side, your fingers intertwined as you bounced your hands against each other. You were both looking at the makeshift comforter ceiling, soft smiles on your faces.

“Why the sudden fort?” Namjoon asks after a while, almost in a whisper, not wanting to break the spell of comfort you both were under.

“I don’t know… It’s stupid.” He turns on his side to face you, cupping your face to make you look at him. It’s the look he always gives you whenever you doubt yourself. A look that says I’m here for you, I’ll never judge you. “I used to build these when I was a kid and missed my mom… I guess I’m feeling kind of homesick. I know it’s dumb.” You chuckle a little at how childish your comments seemed. You were almost thirty and talking about missing your mom.

Namjoon hadn’t thought of this before - the fact that Seoul wasn’t truly your home. Sure you had introduced your mom to him over Skype a few times but he thought about how much he missed Seoul when on tour, did you miss Toronto that way too? You always seemed so content in Seoul, so content with your friends that he never thought about how your family wasn’t there.

“We can go visit home if you want?” He kisses your lips chastely as he continues, his nose nuzzling yours. “I can take a few days off. I’d like to meet your mom in person.”

“We don’t have to. I’m just being a baby.” You laughed as you moved closer and he put his arm under your head to pull you into his chest. You knew this bout was homesickness was temporary, but Namjoon’s words made your heart glow in your chest. It had been two weeks since your attack and although Namjoon had been a rock, helping you with everything from ensuring that you ate to shaving your under arms, you were nostalgic about when you were sick during high school and your mom would take the day off work to take you on a drive, buying you ice cream and snacks that definitely did not help your illness. His idea wasn’t a bad one but with how your injury had messed up your work schedule, you didn’t think you could take time off for a while, and you told him as much. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence again after that, dinner forgotten on the kitchen counter, as you laid under the blankets soaking in the cozy atmosphere.

Caressing your hip slowly where your shirt ended, Namjoon cleared his throat slightly, breaking the spell before he spoke in another whisper. “I could be your home… if you want.”

Moving your head from his chest you look up to find him gazing at you with a soft smile as he turns on his side again. You follow suit, the fingers of your uninjured hand tracing his chest where it stuck between the two of you. Your heart beat faster as you slowly comprehended what he meant, but you still needed him to clarify. “What do you mean?”

“Do you want to move in together?” Namjoon was nervous - more nervous than he had been on your first date, more nervous than he had been when he asked you to be his girlfriend, more nervous than he had been after your first fight. The last two weeks had been some of his favourite with you, regardless of the circumstances that landed him there. He liked coming home to you every night, arguing over what to have for dinner, waking up each morning with his arms around you. You technically didn’t need him around anymore, your schedule was back to normal and you were more than used to navigating with one hand, but he didn’t want to go back to seeing you once or twice a week. How could he do that when he could see you everyday? The domesticity of your morning routines of coffee and reading the news together that had once scared him, were things he craved now. He even loved your playlist of the week startling him awake.

Your prolonged silence made his heart race as he bit his lip in anticipation. Before he could take back his question with a joke, you kissed him. Your lips molded around his tenderly as you took his lower lip between yours, relishing his strawberry lip balm. You break the kiss to whisper a soft yes, barely audible over the sound of your heart in your ears, and Namjoon couldn’t help breaking into a fit of giggles, his forehead against yours as he pulled you closer. He tried to control his reaction but the happiness flowing through him made him feel like he was floating.

“And they were roommates!” You made the dated reference as you giggled along with him.

“You are such a dork. I love you.” He said as he brought his lips back on yours.

“Yeah, your dork!”

“All mine.” He smiled, his eyes disappearing as his cheeks hurt from the joy he felt.

–

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[sheabeeprime]

I Drive Me Mad

AO3 Link

By: @sheabeeprime for @superherotiger as part of @friendly-neighborhood-exchange -> I'm so sorry this is late. I worked really hard though and wouldn't even read my story until this was posted so I hope you love it <3

Rating: Teen + Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark

Summary:

Even though he couldn’t make out most of the distinct features that would confirm this figure to be human, let alone someone he knew, he wasn’t afraid. This man wasn’t scary like his captors had been. No, he radiated safety and warmth and through the armor plating that now gently caressed his cheek, Peter detected a familiar smell of expensive cologne mixed with motor oil which he recognized as home. “D-Dad? Please…help me,” Peter whimpered, fighting spirit returning ever so slightly as he resisted the need to allow his eyes roll back into his skull and fall into the forever slumber. It hurt to stay awake and to try and comprehend reality, but something inside of him said that he had to. He had to, if not for himself than for the blob of red and gold which held him close. He couldn’t imagine how terrible it would be for a father to lose their only child. “It’s okay Peter; you’re going to be okay." Or: In the aftermath of his kidnapping, Peter takes comfort from Tony during a Thunderstorm.

References to Torture

The first time Peter called Tony “Dad,” he was tired and 100% drugged out. Whatever his kidnappers injected him with was strong, with its effects still lingering even after his captors ceased their torture and left for him dead. Peter only hoped the reason they finally abandoned his husk was because they realized Iron Man and the rest of the Avengers were hot on their tail.

It took an additional 36 hours after that, however, before Tony and the others finally found him. At that point Peter was damn near dead.

Days prior he was still trying to fight through the toxins as they were administered. He tried to stay awake and learn everything he could about his captors... Now, the spiderling was just trying to save his energy enough to stay alive, to maintain his vital functions, even if poorly.

Peter couldn’t even hold his head up anymore; allowing it to lull from one side to the other when his mentor tried to shake him back into awareness. The unpleasant feeling of his head rolling about his shoulders, however, was just barely enough ignite the fringes of his mind with a semi-consciousness. He mentally reached for the feeling, trying to hold onto it as long as possible.

“D-Dad?” He asked, tongue thick and cottony.

It took all his enhanced strength, but Peter lifted his head up just enough so that when his eyelids fluttered open, he was looking at the blurred figure before him in their eyes.

Even though he couldn’t make out most of the distinct features that would confirm this figure to be human, let alone someone he knew, he wasn’t afraid. This man wasn’t scary like his captors had been. No, he radiated safety and warmth and through the armor plating that now gently caressed his cheek, Peter detected a familiar smell of expensive cologne mixed with motor oil which he recognized as home.

“D-Dad? Please…help me,” Peter whimpered, fighting spirit returning ever so slightly as he resisted the need to allow his eyes roll back into his skull and fall into the forever slumber.

It hurt to stay awake and to try and comprehend reality, but something inside of him said that he had to. He had to, if not for himself than for the blob of red and gold which held him close. He couldn’t imagine how terrible it would be for a father to lose their only child.

“It’s okay Peter; you’re going to be okay.”

He clung to the feeling of hope that being in this figure’s arms brought him. Hands still bound behind his back with vibranium cuffs, Peter simply nuzzled into the neck of who he hoped to be his father, breathing in a heavy and ragged way while trying to hold back tears as the man cradled him and whispered sweet nothings, only stopping on the occasion to bark orders at the other Avengers.

Peter tried to ignore how every fiber of his body seemed to suddenly be subjected to hot flames when he was finally lifted up by the red and gold. As they took off into the air, Peter moaned, head throbbing to the same rhythm of his uneven pulse. His senses were both still dulled and on overdrive. He couldn’t even enjoy the way the cool air that filtered past them brought relief to his burning body because of the simultaneous wind sounds and air pressure that pounded in his ears.

Landing had to be worse than flying though. Peter wasn’t sure how long they’d been in the air for prior to hitting the ground, but the jostle it wrought was enough to displace Peter’s empty stomach such that his body, tired as it was, instinctually lurched forward in an attempt to dry heave. The strong arms holding him tightened their fatherly grip as Peter trembled in the aftermath, praying that the numbness he felt before might return and mask this pain once again.

There seemed to be no time to try and relax though. Almost immediately after his stomach attempted to turn inside out did a group of hands try to pry the crime-fighting-spider from his human safety blanket. Peter half expected the metal man to defend him, so when the man instead began the relinquish the hold he had on Peter to the group of strangers, Peter felt fear strike his heart.

“No!” he cried out, pushing back into the chest of the one person he knew was safe while trying to violent kick at his attackers.

“Pete, it’s okay. They just want to help. You’re safe,” The figure spoke in his ear, voice smooth and even, never once showing there was a reason to panic.

The words seemed to cocoon the spiderling up like his favorite MIT Hoodie. They allowed just the smallest morsel of comfort to sink into his skin and convinced him to momentarily stop bracing against the mass of hands just long enough for them to somehow release him from confines of the vibranium cuffs.

When Peter felt the pressure on his writs dissipate, his arms immediately snapped forward to wrap around his red and gold savior, gripping into the alloy mixture without fear of denting it. The person behind the armor didn’t even flinch he crunched the suit like aluminon foil.

“Don’ wan you ‘o leave me,” Peter slurred.

A couple minutes of silence passed, where the figure just hushed Peter by massaging his arms with one hand, supporting him still with the other, until the teenager could be coaxed into letting go and laying onto a gurney. When he finally relinquished the last of his grip and the medical staff began to work, Peter felt a stab of panic into his heart again. Behind his eyes, he could see the masked faces of his captors, taunting him in his intoxicated, helpless state and reaching to inflict more pain. Before Peter could open his mouth to scream, however, the sensation of someone holding his hand cut through the vision, anchoring him to reality.

The hand was about the size of the metal ones holding onto him earlier, except this time they were made of flesh. They felt soft yet calloused; gentle yet firm.

“Dad?”

Peter blinked a couple times, double vision lining up long enough to see Tony Stark’s face hovering over his own, concerned eyes and a worried smile. He ran his free hand over Peter’s sweat and blood matted hair, just like a parent would.

“It’s okay, little Bambino. I’m not going anywhere.” ~~~~~~~~

Peter didn’t remember calling Tony “Dad.” Actually, Peter didn’t remember much from his recuse at all. He wasn’t as embarrassed about it as his mentor, and even he himself, thought he was going to be though. Peter had recused people from kidnapping situations before and accepted that sometimes they say and do weird things. Never mind the fact that he had been fighting off calling Iron Man “Dad” in everyday conversations about a month prior to the incident.

Surprisingly, Peter was more flustered to find out that, true to his word, Tony stayed with him through all the poking, prodding, and evaluating. Even when surgery was deemed necessary

to reset some broken bones Peter had, Tony was there while he was put under and prepped for surgery. It was not until the lead doctor, Helen Cho, insisted that his presence in the surgery suite would be unsanitary and could inhibit the team of doctors that the billionaire finally did step aside. And even still, Tony’s face was the first he saw when he woke up.

Peter made a pretty quick recovery after that, all things considered. Once he gained enough weight back for his super healing to begin and work again, his bones and wounds seemed to knit themselves back together at an astronomical rate. 48 days after the incident and Dr. Cho even cleared him to be Spider-Man again, to Tony and May’s disgruntlement.

But Peter figured, this kind of thing…it happens to heroes. It happened to Tony. Sure, that was before he became Iron Man, but it still counts. And anyway, he didn’t want it to stop him from helping people; from preventing that kind of thing from happening to anyone else. He did the time in the hospital, he went to Tony’s mandated therapy, he should be able to be Spider-Man. It was the best thing for him anyway; to just move on.

Because that’s what heroes do.

Right?

But while he may have recovered from his physical wounds, his mental ones seemed tattooed with ugly ink on the back of his skull

Peter found he no longer felt safe in the apartment, with the sounds of the city beneath him. Whenever he closed his eyes, the dripping of their old bathroom faucet, or the sounds of his neighbors arguing, or the smell of the trash on the curb somehow brought him back to that grimy warehouse he had been kept in.

And when he was out and about, Peter’s Spidey Sense would constantly thrum. It made him seem paranoid. He would jump at just the sound of car doors closing or cats meowing or even just his friends approaching from behind. Everyone felt too close, but also too far.

The nightmares had to be the worst of it. Every night, he felt tortured again. Sometimes they were memories, sometimes imaginative scenarios, but always his fears playing out before his eyes. He tried to immerse himself with Spider-Man patrols and schoolwork in the late hour of night when sleep felt like imprisonment, but that wasn’t helping his mental state either.

That’s how Peter found himself sleeping at the Tower.

Peter wasn’t sure if being so high up and far away from the streets was what helped him calm down, or the bullet proof windows, or if it was just being close to Tony, but something about the Tower allowed him to sleep, even if only a little bit.

May was the first to approve of the arrangement.

“Anything to help my baby get better,” she said.

Tony had been pushing for him to stay anyway.

“It’s safer,” the genius would claim. And he was right, but there was more too it than that.

Either way, the Spiderling now had his own Star-Wars themed room in the Stark penthouse, down the hall from the master bedroom. And he would be lying if he said staying with his mentor hadn’t been great. The long lab days, the movie nights, the expensive family dinners, all of it was wonderful…except for one thing.

Thunderstorms.

KA-DUUUM!

Peter snapped forward in his bed, a mangled shout caught somewhere in this throat, never to make it out into the open. His eyes darted to the window which was being battered by rain. Part of him was thankful for the thunder for waking him from his impending nightmare. The other part of him, however, knew that this was almost worse.

FU-FOOM!

Another burst of noise had Peter jumping from his bed and into fighting position, hands balled into fists to keep them from shaking.

The tower was not soundproof. And being so high up, Peter felt the sounds of the storm were the only things that were made to be even louder.

Peter could feel see his veins throbbing with increased blood pressure. He squeezed his eyes shut to try and focus on his breathing, but the darkness behind his eyelids made his mind swim with anxiety.

“There is nothing to fear. There is nothing to fear. I’m safe here. I’m safe here,” Peter whispered to himself.

Logically, Peter knew this was just a harmless storm. He used to love watching them out of the massive windows in the tower. But ever since he came home from being kidnapped, he couldn’t handle it. The noises, the flashes of light, the way the tower seemed sway in the wind, all of it was too much for his heightened senses. The worst of it was, he didn’t know why. Maybe it was because it had been storming the night of his capture, or maybe it was just his PTSD, but either way it was driving him insane.

BARROOOM!

This time, Peter darted out of his room and into the hallway. Instinctually, he wanted to seek out comfort from the only other person in the house: Tony Stark. However, Peter was also trying to hide his fear of thunderstorms from his mentor, and up to this point he thought he had done a pretty damn good job. He had even had Ned hack FRIDAY so she wouldn’t alert Tony when he wasn’t sleeping well. He just didn’t want anyone to worry about him more than they already did. Which was a lot, by the way.

Tony didn’t need anything more weight on his mind, in Peter’s opinion. Despite how he hid behind a mask of sarcasm and sunglasses, Peter knew his mentor blamed himself for the world’s problems and carried that weight on his shoulders at all times. What kind of person would he be to add to that weight?

So, the young superhero padded past the Stark master bedroom and instead went into the kitchen to grab some water. He was about halfway done with his glass when another flash of lightening caused the kitchen-living area to momentarily flicker to life with a blinding white light. He could feel his stomach drop and hairs stand on end in the pitch black that followed, waiting for the room to be filled with sounds of thunder.

WA-BAMM!

CRASH!

Peter dropped his glass to the floor and jumped to the ceiling, whimpering when the glass he was using shattered beneath him. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes as he crawled into the safety of a corner.

“Peter?”

Tony poked his head up over the back of his luxury couch, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes to help them adjust to the dark as he scanned the room for the spiderling. It wasn’t long before he spotted the human-sized form on the ceiling, huddling in a corner, silently sobbing.

“Oh Pete…”

Before Tony could even get up to go collect his kid, thunder struck again.

BUUU-DUDUMM!

Inhibitions falling, Peter scurried across the ceiling and dropped down on the couch next to Tony, curling up into his side like an infant.

“Dad, I’m sacred…” he mumbled into the genius’ oil-stained shirt, fear completely taking over.

Tony was sure Peter was unaware of what he had called him, but one look into the teen’s desperate, pleading eyes, and Tony decided he would let it be. The title gave him a warm, tingling feeling anyway. He knew in a second, he would be honored to be this kid’s Dad.

So, Tony did what any Dad would do and wrapped his arms around the boy, rubbing circles into his back and told him it would be okay. And they sat like the for the whole duration of the storm, until sobs became sniffles.

Peter was the first to break away, although not far enough that he was out of his mentor’s strong hold.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. I don’t know what came over me,” he said, faced flushed from both crying and embarrassment.

Tony gave him the same concerned eyes and a worried smile that he vaguely remembered from his rescue. The man then ran his hand through the boy’s curls and, in a move that surprised them both, kissed the top of Peter’s head.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of. I know how difficult recovery can be. After Afghanistan…well…I guess you could say storms bothered me too, and I don’t have your senses,” the billionaire admitted.

Peter was shocked.

“Really? Is that why you were sleeping on the couch?” he asked.

“Uhh, actually, I just stay out here because I worry about you…ya know, in case you need me,” Tony answered, looking away a little nervously. He felt exposed, although deep inside knew his kid would never exploit that.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Peter said quietly.

Tony noticed his guilt sinking in and immediately looked back at the kid and squeezed his arm so Peter would do the same.

“Hey, don’t be sorry. I really don’t mind.”

Peter looked skeptical.

Tony sighed.

“Listen. You are so good, Pete. What happened to me, I deserved that. But you? You do nothing be help people who have no advocate. I am so proud of you and the least I can do is be here when you need me. I’m not particularly good with my emotions but know that just how Iron Man will always look out for Spider-Man, Tony Stark will always look out for Peter Parker. Okay?”

Peter smiled. A genuine smile. Tony could swear it stopped raining in the moment and the room seemed almost brighter.

“I’m here for you too,” Peter said.

Damn this kid was too good.

“It won’t always hurt like this. It’s okay to lean on other people. I guess that’s something I’m still learning too.”

“We’ll get through this, Mr. Stark. Together.”

Tony smiled down at his kid, but a sudden thought turned his sweet smile into a mischievous smirk.

“Don’t you mean ‘Dad’?”

Peter flushed.

“Mrrrr. Starrrkkk.”

[tinyboxxtink]

“Helpless” *Part 10*

Dammit!! I really wanted a nice and even chapter set, but I couldn’t fit the proper ending in here. So, I guess I’m just gonna have to deal. LoL. 

Side Note: I initially wanted to toss the word ‘helpless’ in there to go with the title, and now it’s just everywhere. So, sorry if it seems cheesy lol. And if you don’t notice that’s a good thing! It just bothers me...lol

Master List

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

FINALE!!

Tag List 

@wanniiieeee

@dumauier

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@word-scribbless

---

You were lost in your thoughts when Olivia’s phone rang. 

“...Yeah, uh huh. Alright, thank God. Yeah she’s here,” Olivia glanced at you. “Uh huh...yes we will, Okay thank you,” She hung up the phone and looked at you again. 

“They caught your friends,” she told you.

“Oh they are NOT my friends,” you scoffed.

“I thought you said--” She started.

“Arianna was my best friend, until she got the lo--until she got Rafael shot,” You tripped over your words, not really wanting to get into the ‘love’ debacle with Olivia again.

“I see. Well, apparently they didn’t have the gun they used to shoot Rafael on them, and they’re insisting that you have it,” She stated coldly.

“I...Wha...A-Are you serious?!” You were shocked. “I-I-I-I...I don’t have a gun! I don’t have ANY gun! Y-You saw me!”

“She’s right Liv, we didn’t see a gun on her at the scene,” Rollins pointed out.

“She could have stashed it,” Olivia eyed you?

“A-Are you serious, Detective? Didn’t we just do this? I couldn’t have-- I would NEVER--” 

“Alright, why don’t we just start from the beginning, okay?” Carisi interrupted you, trying to be the mediator. 

“...The beginning of what, exactly?” You asked confused. 

“Of the night,” 

“Well, I mean you were there at the beginning,” you shrugged. 

“Right. So take us after we left you...in the kitchen,” Carisi alluded to when they had caught you making out in Fazzoli’s kitchen like teenagers.

“Right. Um, so Rafael helped me re-do all the prep we knocked over, and then he gave me a ride home, and then we--” You paused, wondering how much detail was really relevant. You decided some things were better left private.

“We said good night, and then I went upstairs and Arianna was packing, and she said we had to leave and I was never gonna see Rafael again, and when I refused she pulled a GUN on me,” You paused again, reliving the night all over again. 

“So I called Rafael because I was scared, but I know I shouldn’t have because I knew he’d want to come and be a hero or something. He wanted to call you, and I said no. Then he said he was going to come himself and I still said no! But then Arianna came in and heard him on the phone so she smashed it, and then--”

“So why exactly, did your friend pull a gun on you?” Fin interrupted you.

“I...um, because I wouldn’t do what she said,” you bit your lip.

“Right. And why did she say you both had to move and ‘never see Rafael again’?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I um-- well she, she thought he was going to come after us. Her, really,” you started to twirl your hair furiously.

“And why would he do that?”

“God..” you didn’t want to do this. You didn’t want to have to explain to actual cops what you did. But you also knew lying would bite you in the ass, so you continued.

“...Because I told him what we do,” you looked down at the floor.

“And what do you do, Y/N?” Olivia aske sternly.

“I...we...we sort of...hustle, people,” you muttered, still looking at the floor.

“You hustle people?” 

“Yeah I have this superpower--” you started, but suddenly realized you sounded like a nut job.

“A superpower,” Fin half laughed.

“Not like laser eyes superpowers. Like a...skill?” you tried finding a better word for what you did.

“A skill?”

“Yeah I can-- um, read people,” you bit your lip again, not really knowing how to explain this.

“Like a psychic?”

“No! Like...body language. Microexpressions,” You didn’t know why they would know what those were, but you really didn’t have another word for them.

“Oh like on that show!!!” Carisi chimed in excitedly, causing the squad to stare at him. “What? I love Tim Roth,”

“So what, you’re just really good at reading body language? How does that help you hustle people?” 

“I mean it’s-- it’s more involved than that,” you replied, a bit offended.

“Yeah Fin, you should see this show man. They’re basically human lie detectors,” Carisi added.

“It’s a TV Show” Fin rolled his eyes.

“But it’s based on real life science! Science I’ve studied my entire life, basically,” you  started kicking yourself, should they really know how good you were?

“...Ok well whatever, so you were scamming Rafael and he found out?”

“NO! Well…” you bit your lip. “Kind of,” 

“Kind of? My best friend could be dying because of you right now, so you better start talking straight to us,” Oliva got in your face.

“I am! Ok look: I really liked Rafael for a really long time, and then Arianna told me his name and so I kinda ‘went for it’ but I really did like him! And then Arianna told me to start ‘using him’ and getting something out of him we could use, so I started to. But when he told me that his dad used to beat the shit out of him I couldn’t--”

“I’m sorry, what?” Olivia interrupted you. 

“...He told you about his dad?” 

“I...um, yeah,” You looked down at the floor again; he probably wouldn’t have wanted you spewing his life long secret out in public like that. The squad all looked at each other in disbelief. 

“....That must be one hell of a superpower,”

“I-I can’t believe he told you-- he’s never even told ME,” Olivia blinked in disbelief. 

“...So you manipulated him into telling you intimate things, and then what? He figured it out?” Rollins persisted.

“Yeah, pretty much. But I sent him away before he told me anything else, and I told him to stay away from us!” you defended yourself. 

“And why’s that?” Fin asked.

“Because Arianna doesn’t give up, that’s why. She would have kept on digging, but I told her that he was onto us so she backed off. And then he just had to come back and talk to me, and-- and talking about ‘saving me’ from Arianna, like he could,” You rolled your eyes, why did you ever let him try?

“He wanted to ‘save’ you? From your best friend?” Rollins now raised her eyebrow.

“She was my ONLY friend. My only family. She kept me to herself, and manipulated me our whole lives,”

“Oh ok so this is all Arianna’s fault, and you’re just the victim, is that right?” Olivia scoffed. 

“NO!!! Look, I told you-- I kept telling him to back off, I even straight up ghosted him after he gave me his number. But then tonight he--”

“Insisted we have dinner at Forlini’s,” Rollins finished, making your face fall. 

You knew it; he was trying to reach you. Maybe if you had just called him back, or texted him ONE TIME, he wouldn’t have brought everybody there tonight. Then Arianna wouldn’t be on to you, and then none of this would’ve happened.

“You HAVE to believe me,” you begged them. “I never intended for Rafael to get mixed into all of this. I tried to stop him, I tried to push him away from me but he just-- wouldn’t,” 

“Mr. Barba’s a fighter, like I said,” Carisi shrugged.

“Liv, I believe her,” Fin looked at her. 

“It does sound like something Barba would do,” Rollins agreed.

“Yeah I...I guess so,” Olivia was still shaken up from the fact that Rafael had shared his deepest secrets with you, who he barely knew,  over her.

“Look Arianna’s going to try and take me down with her, but if you just ask Rafael--” you started, but still Olivia would not let you finish any sentence about her best friend.

“And how are we supposed to do that, Y/N? He’s lying on a surgical table, because for whatever reason he thought he could ‘save you’ from your apparently ‘manipulative’ best friend!” She kept herself from physically shaking you, 

“...I know,” Was all you could say.

“Liv we don’t know anything right now, okay? We still could ask Rafael when he--” Rollins started.

“IF he” Olivia interjected.

“Liv, be positive,” Carisi warned.

“We can still check her story. Meanwhile, she’s still ‘in our custody’,” Rollins finished.

“You’d better--” Olivia started but was interrupted by the doctor returning from the OR. He was covered in blood.

“Oh my god…” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. 

“He lost a lot of blood,” The doctor explained. “But he made it through surgery...barely,” 

The squad and yourself let out a collective sigh.

“The next 12 hours are crucial,” he went on. “If he makes it through then, he’ll have a fighting chance,” 

“Oh my God…” You put your hands over your head, trying to breathe, but Rafael’s blood on them just made you panic more.

“Can she...do you have anything she could change into?” Fin took pity on you and your blood soaked outfit.

“Yes, yes of course. We have showers and some scrubs you can wear dear,” The surgeon nodded to a nurse.

“We’re gonna need those clothes for evidence,” He told you.

“Right..” you nodded softly.

“Right this way dear,” a nurse gestured to you to follow her. 

As you followed her, you wondered if the squad would update you if something happened with Rafael. And then you thought-- would you really want them to?

On your way to the showers, you saw a team of surgeons rolling Rafael down the hall on a gurney. You couldn’t help yourself, you had to see him. You ducked out of the nurse’s view and chased the gurney down the hallway.

“Wait! Please!” You yelled, they turned and stopped.

“Ma’am you really can’t be back here,” 

“I..I’m with her,” You glanced behind you to see the nurse coming after you. 

“I just-- I needed--” You stared at Rafael, just lying there. Lifeless. Helpless. You felt yourself start to cry for the millionth time tonight. 

“Friend of yours?” the nurse asked. 

“Dude, I think he’s more than her friend,” another one rolled his eyes.

“Can I just--?” You pointed to Rafael.

“Yeah alright, just a SECOND,” He stepped away and looked down the hall, pretending not to see you.

You moved past them and stood right next to Rafael’s head, stroking his hair.

“I love you, Rafael Barba. I am not done loving you yet, do you hear me? You fight. You come back to me,” You ordered the unconscious man, like an idiot. 

“Please,” you whispered, before placing a kiss on his head. You nodded a ‘thank you’ to the team, before they continued down the hall. 

“Sorry,” you apologized to the nurse for ditching her. 

“It’s fine, I’d do the same for my husband,”

“Oh we’re not--”

“Oh, you’re not? So you REALLY can’t be back here, can you?”

“I-I guess not,” 

“Alright...you know what, here,” She pulled out a sticker that said “ALL ACCESS”.

“I could get in trouble for this, but just in case I’m not here when you get all cleaned up, use this to get to his room. It’s family only in ICU,” 

“R-Really? Seriously?” You took the sticker in shock. “You’d do that for me? Why?”

“You looked so helpless, just standing there,”  She turned her head sideways in sympathy. 

“Thank you,” You whispered, and she nodded as you two resumed walking down the hall towards the showers.

Hopefully you could use that sticker SOON.

[godtier1]

let's go with Misfit and/or Armor for DinCobb :3

Thank you Niki!! I’ve cross-posted this to ao3 as well cause I *really* wanted to bring us to 600 fics ehehehehe

Prompts are: “falling in and out of a restless sleep. Feeling safe when a loved one presses a kiss to their forehead and strokes their hair.”

And

“getting out of bed too soon, insisting they feel much better, and collapsing/passing out”

Din was between bounties, hurtling through space on hyperdrive, when the call from Cobb came in. He was lightly dozing when he was woken up with the sound of beeping coming from up above. He shot up in his bunk, hitting his head on the top, before cursing loudly and slowly making his way to the cockpit. Whoever was calling couldn’t be important enough to make him hurry.

“Hello Cobb,” he said, sounding slightly out of breath. He could hear Cobb laughing, and his visage on the other end had his hands on his hips.

“Howdy. Didn’t think you were going to answer,” Cobb replied, sounding rather amused. “I didn’t wake you, did I? I didn’t know where you’d be, so I wasn’t sure what time of day it would be for you.”

Din straightened his stance and cleared his throat.

“You, um, didn’t wake me, don’t worry,” he said. Then he could feel his face grow hot as he continued, “I was actually planning to swing by Tatooine soon, if you’d be up for a visit.” Cobb’s crooked grin faltered at that.

“Ah, actually, I was kind of hoping you might be available even sooner. Like, the day after tomorrow soon.” Din could tell from the holocall that Cobb was shifting back and forth from foot to foot. It had been a while he’d seen his friend seem so worried. He checked his coordinates and what time it was currently on Tatooine.

“If I left now I could probably be in Mos Pelgo by sunrise the day after tomorrow.” Din thought for a moment before commenting. “Are you… are you okay?”

Cobb just sighed, running a hand over his face.

“Yeah I’m alright.” He laughed nervously. At Din’s concerned stare, he continued.

“I finally found someone here on Tatooine who would be willing to take the tracking chip out of my head. I’ve been trying to find someone for years who would do it, and this is the first time I’ve had any luck.”

Din let out a soft gasp at that. He knew Cobb had been a slave in his youth, had seen his brand on more than one occasion, but hadn’t stopped to consider the possibility that he would still be chipped.

“That’s fantastic Cobb!” Din exclaimed, feeling truly ecstatic for his friend. “What can I do to help? You said you need me there?”

“That’s… yeah, so here’s the thing,” Cobb began, a weary look on his face. “There ain’t a lot of docs on Tatooine that will take out a slaver’s chip, right? You can get in a lotta trouble doing that. But on the flip side, if someone were to pose as a doctor and offered to take a chip out…”

Din sucked in a harsh breath.

“They could leave the chip in and sell you back into slavery.”

“Bingo,” Cobb replied with a tired sigh. “That’s why I need someone I know I can trust to see me through this. I hate to impose Din, I really do…”

“I’m setting a course for Tatooine as we speak. Where are you getting the procedure done?”

Cobb laughed, sounding optimistic for the first time during this conversation.

“Mos Eisley. I really do appreciate you, you know that right?”

Din blushed again, feeling too hot under his helmet.

“It’s not a problem. I’ll see you soon?”

Cobb gave Din a little wave.

“See ya soon friend. Safe travels, as always.”

————————————————————————-

When Din spotted Cobb outside hangar 3-5, he could feel his heart do a little flip against his ribcage, which was a more common occurrence the longer he’d known the man. He waved in greeting, expecting Cobb to smile and eagerly approach him. Such was the song and dance Din had grown accustomed to. However, Cobb just looked around himself nervously before walking quickly to Din’s side.

“Hey Din,” he said quietly, looking rather pale. “Alright, here’s the deal. My procedure is in an hour, in the seedy district in the center of town. I’ve requested that they let you be present for it, which is awful, I know, I’m sorry. I promise, you won’t have to watch, you’ll just need to be sure they don’t take me while I’m under. Once I’m awake, I should be able to get myself back home.”

Din paused for a moment, taking in all of Cobb’s words, before hesitantly putting a sturdy hand on his shoulder. Cobb jumped slightly at the touch.

“Alright, I can do that. Though I’m not about to let you go home by yourself, you know that right?”

Cobb sighed.

“You sure? I know how busy you are, I hate to intrude more than I already have.”

Din shook his head in fond exasperation.

“Yes, I’m sure. I’ll worry half to death if I don’t go with you.”

Cobb grinned sheepishly, before offering Din his arm.

“Shall we?”

————————————————————————

Cobb had been all too right when he had called their destination the seedy part of town. There were suspicious folks around every corner, hoods up or masks on, concealing their faces. Cobb lightly tugged on Din’s arm and led him to a non-descript looking building.

Once inside, things moved very quickly. Before Din knew it, Cobb was lying on his back on a makeshift gurney, the doctor and her assistants prepping him for surgery. Luckily Din was not a squeamish man, so he wasn’t worried about feeling faint during the operation, but when he saw the medical assistants strap Cobb to the gurney and place a piece of leather in his mouth, he began to panic.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing?” he asked, alarm seeping into his voice. The assistants paused in their task, before the doctor shooed them back to work. She turned to Din.

“Standard procedure, surely you understand? We can’t have him flailing all over the place while we’re trying to work.”

It was at that moment that Din realized they would be operating without anesthesia, and his stomach dropped into his boots. He chanced a glance down at Cobb, who was just as frazzled. He was already sweating profusely. Din stood by the gurney and dabbed at Cobb’s forehead with his cape. Cobb leaned into the touch with a shaky sigh.

“It shouldn’t take long, right? That’s what you said? So just hang in there, I’ve got your back.”

Cobb nodded, and Din slowly offered him his hand. He gripped it like a lifeline.

———————————————————————-

The procedure was quick, barely fifteen minutes, but it was the longest fifteen minutes of his life. Din stood by the whole time, far enough to be out of the doctor’s way, but close enough to keep holding Cobb’s hand. Cobb let out muffled scream after muffled scream, squeezing Din’s hand hard enough to bruise.

When the doctor held the bloody tracking chip aloft, Din could cry from relief. He knew how much this meant to Cobb, so by extension, it meant the world to him too.

Once Cobb’s head was stitched and bandaged, the medical assistants immediately hoisted him up to standing. Din was at his side at once, protesting the decision to have him up and about so quickly.

“Sorry,” the doctor replied, “we don’t have a recovery room here, and I have another patient soon. You’ll have to find somewhere else for him to recuperate.”

Cobb leaned heavily against Din’s armor, his knees slowly buckling under him as he breathed heavily and tried to stay upright. Din wrapped a hand securely around Cobb’s back to steady him as he glared daggers at the doctor through his T-visor.

As they walked back into the oppressive Tatooine heat, Cobb staggered along at Din’s side, barely conscious. Din gave him a quick squeeze.

“I’ll find us a hotel room for the night, alright?”

Cobb shook his head, then seemed to regret it as he winced at the sudden movement.

“I’m fine Din. I just want to go home.”

Din raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“You’re in no condition to travel, Cobb, and it’s a long ride back to Mos Pelgo.”

Cobb brought a shaking hand to his mouth for a moment, looking rather sick, before swallowing thickly and slouching back against Din.

“Please. Just take me home.”

————————————————————————

By the time the pair reached Cobb’s home the dual suns had long since set, leaving Mos Pelgo bathed in the dim lights from the sparse dwellings around them.

Cobb had passed out miles back, leaving Din to grip him tightly in front of him on the speeder to keep him from falling. He carried Cobb bridal style into his home, where he gently deposited him on his bed. Din quickly removed his armor, sans helmet, before joining Cobb under the covers. Cobb blearily opened his eyes, a low whine escaping his throat, before he closed his eyes and went back under once more.

Din sighed as he laid on his side, facing Cobb in the dark. It wouldn’t be the first or last time they would share a bed like this. Each subsequent time they did this, one of them always grew a step bolder. A hand on a bicep. A pair of legs tangled with the other’s. Cobb’s forehead against Din’s helmet.

Tonight Din grew even bolder still. Once he was sure Cobb was really asleep, he gripped the lip of his helmet and pulled, fresh air chilling his face. He looked down at his sleeping companion, through his own eyes for the first time, and smiled as he carefully brushed a strand of hair away from Cobb’s angular face. He battled with himself for just a moment before leaning down and sweeping his lips against Cobb’s forehead, mindful of the bandages covering his left temple.

He could practically feel Cobb smiling.

——————————————————————-

“What are you doing up?” Din asked in alarm as he entered the bedroom the next afternoon, cup of soup and glass of water in hand.

Cobb was standing shakily by the bed, grasping tightly to the dresser to stay upright. He slowly raised his head and smiled weakly up at Din. His strength might have been gone, but his charm was certainly not.

“Howdy Din,” he rasped as he let go of the dresser, only to sway alarmingly and clutch on to it again. If Din hadn’t been so deeply worried, he might have chuckled at the similarity to Grogu when he stumbled around.

“Cobb,” he warned as he put his food on the dresser. “You shouldn’t be up and about. For kriff’s sake, you just had surgery less than twenty four hours ago.” Cobb just waved him off nonchalantly.

“M’fine, I have things to do. Gotta stop in at Werlo’s, gotta check on the vaporators, gotta…”

Then his eyes were rolling back in his head and he was pitching forward, and Din just barely reacted quickly enough to prevent him from hitting the ground.

———————————————————————-

Despite the circumstances of the surgery, Cobb’s recovery was swift. He was just as stubborn as Din had expected him to be, insisting on changing his own bandages and making his own meals. Din just rolled his eyes and let him do what he wanted, hovering by closely just in case he needed a steadying arm.

When Cobb took off the bandages at last, a prominent scar resided on his left temple. He would wear it proudly for the rest of his life.

Then when Din was sure Cobb was finally healed well enough to hold a blaster, he held out the still bloody tracking chip to him. Cobb stared at it for a moment, looking surprised, before his lips turned up in a wide grin.

“How far do you reckon I would need to blast this thing to kingdom come?”

[joheun-saram]

To Make A Power Couple (knj) | 7

Chapter 7: Blanket Forts

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Summary- At the hospital, Namjoon tries to make sense of what transpired as Y/N recovers.

word count- 6k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- R

genre- series, fluff, angst, action, strangers2lovers

warnings- violence, blood, stalker, hospital, extremely fluffy scenes of Joon as a caretaker

a.n- wow i literally wrote this the fastest i’ve written any chapter! i hope you like it. although there is angst there is also a lot of tooth rotting fluff. special s/o to @jungkooksbroski for beta reading this 💕

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sscheherazadee, @rjsmochii , @jinjccns​ , @joyful-jimin @sideblogger @agustdpeach @diamonddia-mond

—

Namjoon held your hand in both of his, his forehead resting upon them, as he waited for you to wake up from surgery, the beep of the heart monitor far too loud and ominous. His hood was on his head as his elbows dug into the ratty blue basketball shorts he had thrown on in a hurry. Even though the doctors had assured him that you were going to be fine, he was still worried. He couldn’t believe that you had gotten hurt at his own house of all places and he felt responsible as he replayed the scene in his head.

You looked so small next to the woman attacking you, it made his blood run cold. She was easily twice your size and the malice her gaze held was frightening. He barely registered her presence, how could she have been in his room the whole time he was home? Why didn’t he put his bags away so he could have caught her before she attacked? Why didn’t he hear someone else was home? He remembered hearing a noise while starting food prep and he assumed it was Moni just messing around. How stupid he had been. He was supposed to be your boyfriend, wasn’t it his responsibility to protect you?

He wasn’t even fast enough to pull her off you. He remembers time slowing down, his arms around the intruder as he tried his best to move her away but she seemed to be on a rampage, stomping on your arm. He remembers the moment her heavy boots almost flattened your arm. It was as if she wore them for the occasion. How did she even get in? He had never been happier to have Jungkook and Jimin around. If it weren’t for their help, he doesn’t even want to imagine how he would have managed. He could still feel the adrenaline in his body, hours later. The guards downstairs had been quick to arrive and he remembers sitting in his underwear trying to wake you up as he watched your arm twisted in an unnatural angle. Your scream still ricocheted through his head and he held your hand tighter, wishing you’d wake up already. The doctor had said it would take a couple of hours but he was on edge. 

“But I love you!” the intruder had screamed as she was being dragged off by the guards and Namjoon hated his fame once again. He hated that it affected you, that it hurt you. If he was a nobody, you would’ve never been in this situation. You deserve someone who could hold your hand in public without fear that it might cause a controversy. Someone who you could show off at your events, someone you could travel with, someone who could take you out at normal hours to exhibits and didn’t have to sneak around with at concerts. Someone who screamed his love from rooftops, unlike him who only hid you away.

“Hyung. She’s okay. The doctor said she will be okay.” Jimin spoke softly, his arms around Namjoon’s shoulders as he hugged him back, feeling dizzy. Across from him Jungkook paced in the deluxe private hospital room that their company had reserved for them. The big room had a large bed, couch and television. Its warm wood furnishing and several fake plants were meant to emit a feeling of warmth but regardless of the size or decor, Namjoon felt like he was suffocating.

“She’s in surgery. Surgery. Because of me. Jimin what do I do?” He could feel a lump in his throat as he tried to stay strong. He knew logically that you would be fine, but all he could think was 1%. That’s what the doctor said the chance was of anything going wrong. He knew that millions of people broke their arms and were perfectly fine after a few months but you were his one in a million. The fact that he even met you was so random that he thought it fate. You always managed to do the impossible and in his emotional state that 1% chance was too large. Far too large.

Yoongi had arrived shortly after Jimin messaged the group about the home invasion and he stood next to Jimin and Namjoon, his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder as he tried to force him to drink water. The three men tried to reassure Namjoon in vain as he finally let go of Jimin to sit on the couch, his eyes glued to the door, pulling on the sleeves of his sweater as his leg bounced on its own accord. 

After almost two hours he saw the door open as you were brought in on a stretcher, still asleep as the nurses moved you to the bed, checking your vitals. Yoongi had to physically restrain Namjoon from running over to you so the workers could do their job, but as soon as they were gone, he was by your side.

You were okay. Nothing went wrong and it felt like a boulder had been lifted off his shoulders as he all but collapsed, holding your hand, his head gingerly resting on your stomach. The boys bid him goodbye soon after making sure he was okay, giving the two of you privacy but ensuring Namjoon that their phones would be on them in case he needed someone with him. No one was getting sleep tonight.

Before Namjoon could let his negativity flood him further, he felt your hand twitch between his and he sat up, looking at your face intently as you finally opened your eyes looking at him groggily.

“Oh thank fuck!” He exclaimed, standing up without letting go of your hand, instead squeezing it tighter as he looked over at you. Your other arm was in a cast, laying over your stomach, both your eyes bruised and swollen underneath, your nose still red as you looked at him with wide eyes. His heart pained as he looked at the evidence of his failings, but for you he smiled, small and not reaching his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m sorry. Who are you?” you whispered, your voice hoarse. Namjoon felt his heart race, like it was going to fall out of his chest, panic slowly rising. 

“Who…? You don’t know me?”

“Wait… aren’t you famous?” You asked again and he dropped your hand in shock, shaking as he rushed towards the door. Memory loss? That wasn’t a symptom they mentioned. You didn’t have a concussion and it scared him that the doctors missed something, fear making him almost sprint the short the distance.

“What the fuck? Okay. Don’t worry. I’m going to get the doctor!”

Before he could reach the door, he heard you giggle, turning around in disbelief as he heard your next words. “Joon! Stop! I was kidding!”

“You were kidding? You were KIDDING?!” He almost yelled, before checking himself. His mouth hung open for a moment as you watched him walk towards you slowly and standing over you, his brows scrunched into a pained expression on his face. “Red. Red, Y/N. You can’t joke right now, do you know how scared I was?” He whispered, sudden relief turning into exhaustion as he felt his knees almost buckle. He had never felt this overwhelmed before.

“Hey. Joonie, baby. I’m sorry.” You called to him gently, reaching for him, your fingers squeezing reassuringly around his forearm that hung next to you. Hearing him call red made you feel suddenly guilty. Even in your worst fights where you were both screaming at each other, the most either of you had called for was yellow. You had only wanted to lighten his mood, crack a joke to make him smile for real but your post-anaesthesia brain couldn’t come up with anything better. 

“You’re sorry?” He looked at you incredulously before his long arms were placed gingerly around your waist as his head reached for the crook of your neck, resting there and he inhaled. You smelt different, like disinfectant and he hated it, feeling his lip quiver as he spoke against your skin in quick, flurried words.. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, baby. Fuck! Why are you even with me? I literally put your life in danger! You should break up with me! You’re gonna have a gigantic scar and like metal inside you forever! You deserve so much -”

“Oh man! A scar? Who’s gonna marry me now?” You interrupted his rant and tried to make your voice lighter, wanting to ease his worries, assure him that you were back to normal. You looked at your useless right arm, wishing you could hug him but settled for slowly running your fingers through his hair with your left to calm him down.

“I’ll marry you. I’ll do it right now!” He moved his head away from your neck, leaning his weight on his hands that now rested next to you on the bed, looking at you intensely. His eyes brimmed with unshed tears and you felt your heart break. You cupped his face, your thumb stroking his cheek as you tried to comfort him.

“Come here. Lie down.” You winced a little as you scooted to the side despite his protests, making room for him. He reluctantly laid down, his head in the crook of your arm and his feet dangling off the end of the bed. You slowly caressed his shoulder and felt him relax as he nuzzled the side of your chest, his arm draping over your hips carefully. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. You’re the one that’s hurt.” His voice was small, muffled against you as his thumb traced meaningless patterns against you where it lay. 

“Baby you literally asked me to break up with you and marry you in the same breath - you are not fine.” You spoke softly, your hand squeezing his shoulder as he took a shuddering breath. You looked at the dim tv that had the hospital's menu channel on, displaying the time, 3:21 am. He argued not to worry about him, but you couldn’t help it. He had never looked more exhausted in your presence - even after twelve hours of dance practice on three hours of sleep, he didn’t look this drained. Your fingers moved upwards lightly scraping his scalp, his arm tightening around you, as you spoke. “I love you, you know that right?”

He sniffled, the hospital gown getting damp as he told you about his earlier worries. You hushed him, comforting him with words and coaxing him to sleep. His hand wrapped around the index finger poking out of your cast as he fell asleep after a while, his snores music to your ears. No matter what he believed, you still felt safe with him next to you.

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

You looked at the soft light of dawn as it flows through the window, trying not to move as your arm throbbed in the cast. In the few hours since he fell asleep, Namjoon’s head had moved, now resting on your chest as his arm was draped over your hips, but he looked so peaceful that you dared not wake him up. You barely slept, your pain medication wearing off much too quickly. You had never broken a bone before, and as you thought about how dumb your fifth grade self was for wanting a cast, you wished your boyfriend would wake up at his own accord. You desperately needed to call the nurse for some paracetamol, but you grit your teeth and bore it. You knew you were being stupid and Namjoon would be genuinely pissed if he knew, but looking at his mouth hanging open as he drooled over you made you smile at the endearing picture infront of you.

Unfortunately (or fortunately?), soon a nurse walked in for his morning rounds, waking up a groggy Namjoon who startled, almost falling off the bed, making you hiss as he accidentally held on too hard to your side to keep balance. He stood up, running his hands over his face in order to wake up properly while the nurse did the checkup, providing you with the pain killers you request. Once he leaves, Namjoon moves back to you, putting his arm under your head as this time you nuzzle into his chest. You talked about nothing as the drugs finally took effect, helping you doze off. Namjoon kissed the top of your head as you dropped off mid sentence, a smile on his face because you were alright, but a heaviness in his heart as he looked at the bruises on your face, dark blue and almost black.

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

“Shh… Guys come on. Let her rest!”

Namjoon’s theatrical whisper is the first thing you hear when you wake up again. Your eyes open to your room filled with all your friends. The room had seemed extremely large the last time you were awake but now it seemed tiny. Jiyoung was sitting on the couch typing on her phone with a frown, an Apeach plush on her lap, next to her Siwon was talking animatedly with a tired looking Jungkook munching on some chips. The coffee table in front of them was full of snacks, gifts, and flowers. Seokjin, Yoongi and Jimin were talking about something hushed as they stood near the television, serious looks on their faces. Hoseok was bent over the humidifier in the corner which seemed turned off, messing with the controls and grumbling to himself. Harry sat in the chair next to the bed, talking to Namjoon with Jen standing over him with her hand on his shoulder. Namjoon sat on the bed near your legs, his hand on your calf, and Taehyung sat next to him clinging on his waist. Needless to say, it warmed your heart to see all the people you loved here. Maybe getting injured wasn’t that bad.

You winced as you moved up the bed to get more comfortable and suddenly all the attention was on you, the room turning into a cacophony of “How are you feeling?”s and “Are you okay?”s. Everyone was now crowded around the bed, looking at you with worry, Seokjin even handing you the RJ plush he’d brought along with him stating its healing powers. It was odd to be coddled by such a large group. Overwhelming, but in the best way. 

“I’m fine guys. It’s just a broken arm.” You tried to diffuse the worries.

“You should look at your face dude.” Siwon stated, causing Namjoon to sigh, annoyed, and you to ask for a mirror. Oof you looked worse than you felt. By the bruises on your face it was a wonder how your nose wasn’t broken. Sheepishly you tried to explain to the group that it wasn’t that bad, but your friends were not convinced. 

Soon the conversation turned from worries about you to who the attacker was in the first place. While you and Namjoon were in the hospital, Jungkook and Jimin had been to the police to give in-depth statements. Turns out Namjoon had a stalker - someone the company and security had been keeping an eye on for months, but who seemed to have fallen off the map 6 weeks ago. Apparently the same one who had caused the dates at the beginning of your relationship to always be under the watchful eye of his security team. No one knows how she had managed to break into the dorms but apparently she had been hiding out in his room for a week, his closet was full of tins of food she had consumed during her stay. It was surreal to hear that someone had been in the house and no one had noticed. It made sense to an extent - no one had been actively living in the dorms for a few weeks, especially not Namjoon so his room was never opened. The boys seemed extra distressed about it, and even thought themselves guilty. Namjoon’s words from last night echoed in your head. He put himself at fault, when really it was this woman’s fault. 

No one knew what her plan was when Namjoon returned, and you didn’t want to find out. It might seem odd but you were glad that you were there to protect him in a sense. Apparently seeing you had started such a rage in her that she refused to talk further than the death threats she spewed against you. She was in jail and you hoped she stayed there for a long time. 

“The police haven’t taken into account your assault. You should file a report.” Hoseok spoke for the first time, his face hardened. The room seemed in agreement, but you hesitated.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea…” you started, only for Namjoon, who was now seated next to you on the bed with his arm around you, to counter but you continued. “I’m just saying. Police records are public and if someone looks into this person who was charged with stalking Joon the same night as attacking me, they might put two and two together and I don’t want that to reflect on him or any of you guys.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Y/N?” It was Yoongi who spoke, clearly irritated and impatient. “Who cares about that? She attacked you, she deserves to be in jail.” His voice was quiet, but the frustration in his tone was not lost.

“She’s already in jail though… It’s not gonna make a difference.”

“Noona… I know it’s not our decision but you didn’t see yourself when she was attacking you.” Jungkook’s voice wavered as he looked at you with hurt in his eyes. “She deserves to pay for what she did…”

“Guys… I know you want the best for me, but it’s too risky… Even you all being here right now is too risky!” It was time for your voice to waver as you suddenly realized the impact of having all of them in the room. All it took was one shitty quality photo from a nurse’s Samsung to ruin their image. You didn’t know how you’d be able to handle it if you were responsible for their first big scandal.

“Okay. I’m going to stop you right there. This is a private place we always use. This is not a risk.” Seokjin spoke slowly, enunciating each word as if trying to explain the situation to a five year old. He didn’t do it in a condescending manner, more to make you understand. “Please stop worrying about us. Our company has stopped way bigger scandals from surfacing. Namjoon, can you please make her understand?”

Namjoon sighed loudly next to you, his arm tightening around you to pull you closer. It felt comforting, but you still felt slightly cornered. You just couldn’t see the logic in what they were saying. The attacker’s jail time would probably not change much with an assault added, at least you didn’t think so - so why was this a big deal. 

“It’s her choice, hyung. I’m not going to force her to press charges if she doesn’t want to.” Namjoon looked steely at his member, before turning to you and softening. “But Y/N, I really do want you to make that decision without thinking of me or the rest of us. Can you do that?”

“No. Sorry. I can’t.” You were adamant and now you were starting to get annoyed. Namjoon was right - it was your choice - and it felt nice to have him on your side, at least partially, through this argument, but it didn’t make sense not to make it an isolated discussion. “You’re part of the situation and I can’t just make the decision without adding you to it. I’m not pressing charges.”

You heard a loud snort from Yoongi. “Why are you being an idiot?” He spoke to which Hoseok vocally agreed, causing you to almost yell your explanation in exasperation, before Harry broke the argument asking everyone to take a break and to lay off you.

There was thick tension in the room and it seemed to have sapped the air out of you. You felt uneasy, like no matter how deeply you inhaled you were breathless. You felt claustrophobic suddenly, squeezing Namjoon’s thigh, trying to control your heartbeat. Namjoon saw the distress on your face, immediately requesting everyone to move outside. It didn’t take them long to leave and somehow that helped you feel calmer.

When the room was empty, Namjoon looked at you. Turning to him, you buried your face in his chest, squishing the white alpaca between you and moving your injured arm on his stomach to hug him, despite the sharp pain that made you hiss. Breathing in his scent, somehow made the stress of last night catch up to and you cried. Namjoon held your head gently to his chest as you tangled your legs in his, wanting to almost disappear into him. You didn’t know why you were suddenly crying, but you couldn’t help it - it was like a dam broke, like you were leaking, your emotions cascading out of you onto Namjoon’s sweater. You couldn’t control your sobs and you wondered how loud you were being.

Namjoon felt his heart break as he held you. He had only seen you cry like this once -  the night he asked you to be his girlfriend - and it pained him that he was partially responsible for your tears today. He didn’t know what to do other than whisper “you’re safe now” repeatedly against your hair as you clung to him clumsily. He shouldn’t have let everyone visit so soon. He should’ve thought ahead. Of course you were overwhelmed, you were traumatized. He was an idiot. 

When you calmed down enough to look at him, he wiped your tears gently, barely even touching your skin, and handed you some water from the bedside table. He tried to assure you the best he could, interrupted intermittently by nurses and discharge forms. He didn’t bring up pressing charges again and you were grateful to him for that.

He helped you change into clothes Siwon had picked up for you, insisting you take the wheelchair to the car despite your protests (“My arm’s broken, not my leg Joonie!”). Before you entered your apartment Namjoon asked his security team to do a sweep. You would never admit it to him but having the place checked out before you entered made you extremely relieved. You knew it was irrational to think you’d have another stalker waiting for you but it genuinely made you feel lighter, your anxiety ebbing away. 

He spent the next few hours quietly worrying about little things, changing the code to your door, checking every lock, making you tea, and even cleaning your place to ensure you had “optimum comfort”, while forcing you to stay in bed regardless of your protests. After a while you couldn’t take him running around and murmuring to himself, especially when he decided to order from six restaurants for dinner. Walking into the kitchen where he obsessively cleaned a single spot on the countertop, you pulled him away.

“Joonie. Stop.” you gently touched his hand, startling him anyways as he looked at you in alarm.

“Oh. Do you need anything? Tell me, I’ll get it. Water? Bathroom?” He bent down slightly to look you in the eyes, searching your face for any discomfort.

“Namjoon, I have a broken arm, I’m not an invalid.” You rolled your eyes. It was sweet that he was this concerned but you seriously needed him to stop running around worried.

“Wait, you said Namjoon. Are you mad at me?” He looked alarmed, his eyes wide. Now that you looked at him closely, he didn’t seem to be doing too well either. His eyes seemed sunken behind his glasses, the crease between his eyebrow deep, and his stubble growing out more than you’d ever seen. You wondered if he got much sleep after you dozed off this morning. He even seemed skinnier somehow, though you chalk that up to your imagination.

“No baby I’m not mad at you. Just stop… obsessing. I’m fine. I swear.” You cupped his face with your working hand, thumb circling his cheekbones in an effort to relax him. He leaned in closing his eyes.

“Oh… oh. I just want to show you I love you. You know like you do…” He mumbled in a slight pout, averting your gaze.

“What are you talking about?”

“You always take care of me when I’m down. I want to take care of you.” You felt your heart glow in your chest. Sometimes you forget how much you love this man, but sometimes he says things that, for a lack of a better analogy, punch you in the face, reminding you why you love him. You wrap your arm around his waist, nuzzling your face into his chest, as he tentatively puts his arm around your head.

“You don’t need to deep clean my kitchen to take care of me babe. Just sit next to me. Let’s watch a movie.” You lean away from his chest to tell him, trying to tug his unmovable body towards the living room.

“Are you sure? I’m almost done. Just this one stain…” He lets go of you to grab the wipe again, only for you to pull at his hand.

“Joon. Leave it.” You say sternly, holding his hand as you lean up. “Kiss me.”

“What? No. You’re hurt.” He moves back and you have to convince your irrational feelings that he wasn’t rejecting you, he was worried about you.

“If it hurts, I’ll tell you.”

“No you won’t. I know you.”

“Joonie!” you whine and he relents, although it’s not a kiss you were hoping for. He settles for a series of small pecks against your lips, so light that you barely felt him. Sure even puckering your lips was slightly painful but you were annoyed, rolling your eyes at his lame attempt. And this was the man who had spanked you so hard once that you couldn’t sit without wincing for two days. The audacity. 

Before you could protest he walked with you to the living room and turned on Netflix. Picking a brainless comedy, you forced him to lie down on your lap and even before the title had come up he was asleep.

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

“What wrong baby?” Namjoon came from the studio to find you lying on the ground still dressed in your pajamas with half your hair tied lopsidedly as you whined at seemingly no one, ignoring Moni as he licked your face. If he wasn’t worried that you somehow fell, he would find the sight of you throwing a tantrum like a toddler adorable. 

It had been three days since you returned from the hospital, but Namjoon hadn’t seen you looking this dejected before. You had been completely normal on Sunday, even agreeing to the guys coming over for dinner so they could apologize for their behaviour at the hospital. You had riffed like usual, making fun of Jin and Yoongi as they cooked even though it seemed like you itched to get in the kitchen and help, even getting especially giddy as your childhood dream of getting a cast signed by your friends was fulfilled. The next two days, despite everyone’s insistence you had returned to work, working from home. Fortunately Harry and Siwon had rescheduled or taken over all your client meetings to lighten your load. Namjoon had returned to work too but made sure to text you throughout the day and had spent every night with you, regardless of your protests of being an “independent woman that needs no man”.

“I hate this! I’m so frustrated! I feel useless and gross!” you whined as you thrash around on the floor comically with the biggest pout he had ever seen you sport. Dropping his bag near the door and trying not to chuckle at your cute behaviour, Namjoon walked over to you kneeling next to you.

“Aww baby come here” He opened his arms invitingly as you sat up, only for you to sit crossed leg in front of him to begin your rant. Moni moves between your legs and you scratch his head absent-mindedly.

“No! I can’t attend any meetings till my face doesn’t look like fight club, I can’t shower for two more days, I can’t cook because of this dumbass arm, I can't even tie my hair! TIE MY HAIR, JOON. I’M UGLY, USELESS AND DISGUSTING. Please leave me in my misery.” 

Your face turned red as you continued listing minor inconveniences that your broken arm bestowed upon you as Namjoon made his way behind you and put his arms around your waist, his chin on your shoulder in an effort to calm you down. Instantly you relax, huffing as you leaned into his chest. Today has been tough for you. You had spent two hours on a call relaying your game plan for a potential client to Harry and walking him through his nerves about the meeting, which drained you mentally. Your laptop had restarted two times without warning, your roomba had gotten stuck under the couch and you couldn’t reach for it, you had almost fallen in the toilet because the seat was up, you ran out of coffee, and to top it all off it took you ages to write anything with your left hand alone. You felt miserable and dejected.

“You’re beautiful. My slightly stir-crazy, extremely capable, beautiful girlfriend.” Namjoon kissed your cheek as you turned your head to scowl at him, not buying his flattery. He traced your features gently. He wasn’t lying, even with your face patchy with your yellowing bruise and a scab on your lip, you were beautiful to him and he felt his heart swell the longer he looked at your face. He still had trouble believing that you were with him.

“You’re only saying that cause you love me.” You whisper softly as you avert his gaze before starting to whine again as you adjusted your sling. “Ugh I just want to eat McDonald’s and die.”

“Not going to let you die, but let’s get nuggets.”

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

“Baby I got us Chinese!” Namjoon called out as he walked in your home, hands full of takeout. Hearing no answer he called out again to hear your voice coming from the bedroom.

“Joonie! Crawl under here!” He saw you emerge clumsily from the floor, cast pulled close to your chest, as he entered the room where you had piled the blankets between the edge of the bed and the chairs that you had brought near it. “I made us a fort!”

Your giggles made his heart sing as he grinned and crawled under the fort, taking care not to knock it down. You had brought the lamp from the side table under as well, lighting the small space with a soft glow. He could barely sit up, his height making it difficult not to knock down your creation so he opted for laying down, his head on your thigh as you played with his hair. He sighed in content. It felt somewhat meditative sitting in silence with you under the many sheets, the pile of soft pillows in the corner adding extra coziness.

Soon you’re laying side by side, your fingers intertwined as you bounced your hands against each other. You were both looking at the makeshift comforter ceiling, soft smiles on your faces.

“Why the sudden fort?” Namjoon asks after a while, almost in a whisper, not wanting to break the spell of comfort you both were under.

“I don’t know… It’s stupid.” He turns on his side to face you, cupping your face to make you look at him. It’s the look he always gives you whenever you doubt yourself. A look that says I’m here for you, I’ll never judge you. “I used to build these when I was a kid and missed my mom… I guess I’m feeling kind of homesick. I know it’s dumb.” You chuckle a little at how childish your comments seemed. You were almost thirty and talking about missing your mom.

Namjoon hadn’t thought of this before - the fact that Seoul wasn’t truly your home. Sure you had introduced your mom to him over Skype a few times but he thought about how much he missed Seoul when on tour, did you miss Toronto that way too? You always seemed so content in Seoul, so content with your friends that he never thought about how your family wasn’t there.

“We can go visit home if you want?” He kisses your lips chastely as he continues, his nose nuzzling yours. “I can take a few days off. I’d like to meet your mom in person.”

“We don’t have to. I’m just being a baby.” You laughed as you moved closer and he put his arm under your head to pull you into his chest. You knew this bout was homesickness was temporary, but Namjoon’s words made your heart glow in your chest. It had been two weeks since your attack and although Namjoon had been a rock, helping you with everything from ensuring that you ate to shaving your under arms, you were nostalgic about when you were sick during high school and your mom would take the day off work to take you on a drive, buying you ice cream and snacks that definitely did not help your illness. His idea wasn’t a bad one but with how your injury had messed up your work schedule, you didn’t think you could take time off for a while, and you told him as much. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence again after that, dinner forgotten on the kitchen counter, as you laid under the blankets soaking in the cozy atmosphere.

Caressing your hip slowly where your shirt ended, Namjoon cleared his throat slightly, breaking the spell before he spoke in another whisper. “I could be your home… if you want.”

Moving your head from his chest you look up to find him gazing at you with a soft smile as he turns on his side again. You follow suit, the fingers of your uninjured hand tracing his chest where it stuck between the two of you. Your heart beat faster as you slowly comprehended what he meant, but you still needed him to clarify. “What do you mean?”

“Do you want to move in together?” Namjoon was nervous - more nervous than he had been on your first date, more nervous than he had been when he asked you to be his girlfriend, more nervous than he had been after your first fight. The last two weeks had been some of his favourite with you, regardless of the circumstances that landed him there. He liked coming home to you every night, arguing over what to have for dinner, waking up each morning with his arms around you. You technically didn’t need him around anymore, your schedule was back to normal and you were more than used to navigating with one hand, but he didn’t want to go back to seeing you once or twice a week. How could he do that when he could see you everyday? The domesticity of your morning routines of coffee and reading the news together that had once scared him, were things he craved now. He even loved your playlist of the week startling him awake. 

Your prolonged silence made his heart race as he bit his lip in anticipation. Before he could take back his question with a joke, you kissed him. Your lips molded around his tenderly as you took his lower lip between yours, relishing his strawberry lip balm. You break the kiss to whisper a soft yes, barely audible over the sound of your heart in your ears, and Namjoon couldn’t help breaking into a fit of giggles, his forehead against yours as he pulled you closer. He tried to control his reaction but the happiness flowing through him made him feel like he was floating.

“And they were roommates!” You made the dated reference as you giggled along with him.

“You are such a dork. I love you.” He said as he brought his lips back on yours. 

“Yeah, your dork!” 

“All mine.” He smiled, his eyes disappearing as his cheeks hurt from the joy he felt.

--

previous | masterlist | next

[cicinicole-14]

maybe then

hey hi hello, have a new jolex fic! 

dedicated to @thejolexgroupchat! it was nice knowing y’all!

tw: brief mentions suicide

Meredith remembers the days very clearly. 

The dreary day someone was knocking so frantically on her door close to midnight already, and she hurried down the stairs in hopes to answer the door, yell at her visitor, and pray her children wouldn’t wake up. 

She just wasn’t expecting to see Jo on the other side of the door, brown paper bag clutched in her hand so tightly and rain making her hair stick to her face. 

“Let me in, it’s freezing!” She remembers the demand and the slight panic in her voice. 

“Jo! It’s midnight, what are you doing?” 

Jo doesn’t give her an answer, just shoves the soggy paper bag towards the blonde and she takes it, peaking inside and examining the contents before looking back up at her. 

“Okay, so, here.” She says, shoving the bag back towards Jo. 

The brunette takes it but stands there, frozen, unmoving, entranced, staring down at the bag in her hands. 

“Go take the tests.” Meredith pushes, giving her a nudge towards the bathroom. 

She remembers the agonizing moments she spent waiting with Jo before the ever so small smile creeps across the younger woman’s face as all five tests show the same identical answers. 

Meredith remembers she doesn’t need to ask if Jo was happy about this or not, or if she needed told hold her hand for an appointment and drive her home later that day because this…this made Jo so unbelievably happy she could see it from a mile away. 

She remembers the warm hug Jo gives her because the woman had just been shivering cold from the rain just moments ago and she thought it was contradictory. She remembers the joyous and happy tears falling from big brown eyes amidst a bit of sorrow and pain, grieving the loss of their best friend for not getting to experience this, yet the wave of mutual understanding in them both when she’d asked her to not tell Alex. 

She remembers how Jo thanked her for giving her the benefit of the doubt, even with such loyalty to Alex, but by now, she thinks Jo had earned it. After all, she remembers her own pain and betrayal she felt from the man. Jo deserved someone on her side, in her corner for once. 

She remembers the days and weeks and months of prepping the loft with Jo. Helping her go through old bins and boxes of leftover baby things Amelia and Link hadn’t wanted, helping bring them over to the loft. 

She remembers the happiness on Jo’s face, the complete awe in her eyes as they picked out countless outfits for the new little boy who’d soon be making his presence in the upcoming months. 

The long days she spent in the OR with Jo, chatting and discussing names for the little boy, sharing Zola, Bailey and Ellis’s suggestions for their newest cousin to be. The few moments she got to spend next to Jo’s side as they watched Carina perform ultrasounds as the little boy grew. 

Meredith remembers all the good and happiness happening for Jo, surprisingly. 

She just doesn’t remember where it all went so wrong. 

                          —————————

Everything had been a blur since he’d gotten the phone call. Everything felt numb. He barely registered the voice on the other end of the line, the entire three and a half hour flight, the cab ride from the airport to the once familiar hospital. 

The only thing constant was the shaking of his hands, the racing in his heart, the sheer panic written all over his face at the prospect of something being wrong, so utterly and completely wrong. 

The call came, interrupting his surgery. 

Meredith. 

He ignored it at first. But then she called again,

and again, 

and again. 

And his blood ran cold. 

She hadn’t called in so long. It had been months since he’d sent the letters. Months of utter silence, cut off from everything, everyone. So initially, he was already on edge before he’d even instructed one of the scrubs nurses to hold the phone to his ear. 

In the many years he’d been a surgeon, never had he passed over the rest of the procedure onto a resident and left his OR. Not once, until that phone call. 

Not once until he heard Meredith’s voice on the other line. In a tone that made his body run rigid cold and sent shivers down his spine. 

In a tone he prays he never has to hear again. 

“It’s Jo.” Is all she says, all she has to say to flip his whole world upside-down. Nothing else mattered in that moment. No one else. 

He leaves the hospital after that, in the middle of his shift, not really caring about the people yelling for him as he’s ripping his scrub gown off and throwing it aside. He yanks his scrub cap off and pockets it before he's running. 

He’s running down the halls of his hospital as his chest pounds. He makes sure to grab his keys from his office before he’s out the front doors of the hospital and heading for his car. 

It takes him a little under an agonizing hour before he’s pulling up to the airport, slamming his car in park and tearing out of his car, frantically running towards the front of the airport. 

He’s yelling. He knows he’s yelling but he can’t even hear himself, because everything feels so numb. 

Something was wrong. 

Something was wrong, and he wasn't there.

He just needed to be there.  

He needed to get there soon. 

The flight to Seattle had him completely dazed. 

They’d called his boarding number and it was all he could do to sit in silence for three and a half hours. Three and a half hours of hell. 

The stewardess came and went and he ignored her. The lady in the row across from him had attempted to hit on him and the dude next to him was trying to chat with him, but Alex ignored them all. He didn’t want to talk. He couldn’t. He needed to focus. 

He needed to focus, to get to Seattle, and to find out what happened that Meredith wouldn’t tell him. 

                          —————————

The hospital feels horrifying. 

He’d walked these halls for years. 

He’d been shot in these halls. 

He’d been married in these halls. 

He’d fallen in love with the love of his life in these halls. 

It had never felt this terrifying, ever. 

Not until now. 

It makes his skin crawl, the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, chills shiver down his spine, his blood run cold. 

Something had happened. 

Something had happened and he didn't know, but he needed to. 

Meredith finally pulls him out of his reverie 

He’s just not sure if he’s relieved to see her.

                          —————————

She doesn’t know how she’s supposed to start. 

They teach you a lot of things in med school. She learned a lot there. She learned a lot as an intern, and then a resident and hell even as an attending, chief of her department, she was still learning. She’d taught interns something similar to this, even.  

She just never learned how to do this. 

No one teaches how to tell a loved one about their loved one.

She never learned this, nor would she want to. 

Taking a deep breath, she leads Alex into a private room, encouraging him to sit down. 

That was the first step; location. 

“Mer, what’s going on? Will you just tell me? I need to know what happened. No beating around the bush or half-truths, I wanna know–need to know.” 

“She had a baby, your baby.” She clarifies, because language–step two–was important. It makes her smile a bit. She’d been there right beside Jo. She got to hold him right after he was born, too. He was beautiful. “A little boy–“ she doesn’t get to finish before Alex is on his feet and interrupting her. 

“Oh God, Meredith. God, you scared the crap out of me! I thought someone had died. This is a good thing. I mean it’s awful because I haven’t been here. I guess Jo told you you couldn’t tell me or whatever because why wouldn’t she tell me I have another kid?” He rambles on, pacing around and completely ignoring Meredith’s expression. "We have a son? Where is he? I need to see him. Where’s Jo? Is she okay?”  His voice becomes frantic the longer she stays silent, the longer she remains still, sitting in the chair that was beside his. 

“She had him two weeks ago.” She swallows the lump in her throat as her voice grows shaky. “Alex, I’m sorry, he didn’t make it–“ 

“Why didn’t you call? Why wasn’t I called? Who was her OB? Did Robbins get notified? Could she have helped? Tell me what happened!” 

He’s yelling now. And she should be used to it, patients’ families yelling, screaming, shouting, crying as they begin to process and grieve.

But it only scares her, watching the man she called her best friend, her person, begin to grieve over a child he never knew he had, a child he never got to love, a child he should’ve been there for, to see, to hold. 

“There was nothing anyone could do. Jo had developed placental abruption and it wasn’t caught. It was missed and went untreated. You of all people know how it can just start. She had some spotting in her second trimester and then it had stopped. Carina said that there was nothing to worry about, and Jo even called Robbins to confirm. She was okay.” Meredith tells. “And then she wasn’t. She was thirty-one weeks when an intern accidentally shoved a gurney a little harder than necessary, and it bumped into her. It wasn’t much, she didn’t even stumble, but apparently the force of it caused her placenta to detach. She started uncontrollably bleeding. There–there was so much blood.” 

She watches the tears fall from Alex’s face as he buries his head in his hands, his whole body shaking. 

“Carina took her up and was on the phone with Arizona the entire time. Robbins was still six hours out so she was talking Carina through the surgery, except it was already too late. The baby wasn't breathing when he was born. He’d been deprived of oxygen for too long at that point and everything was too late. So they were able to close Jo up and she got to see him, I got to see him too. He was beautiful Alex. All Karev, that one. His head’s big like yours. He had her nose, though.” She smiles through her own tears at that point. Sharing every detail she remembered of the little boy. “She held him. He was cold, and pale, and blue, but he was still so beautiful.” 

“No. No this isn’t happening. You’re lying, Mer, why would you do this to me? Why would you say crap like this?” 

She doesn’t reply. She doesn’t know what else to say. Sorry doesn’t help. Sorry doesn’t fix this, fix the fact that their baby, a baby he never knew existed, would never get to grow up, and to have to explain that it just happened sometimes. That there really wasn’t a full explanation as to how it even happened, it just did. She knows that doesn’t give him much closure and it never will. 

“So Jo’s okay? Where is she, the loft? Your house? I need to see her. You–you know how fragile she must be right now. Someone needs to be with her.” He’s up on his feet again, pacing around and she’s afraid his walking in circles is going to make her sick. 

“Jo went home after her c-section. Link and I did our best to empty the loft of all the baby things. His nursery in the corner of the loft,  where your heavy bag used to be, had been almost completely finished. She’d put his clothes in the dresser and set up a baby bath in the bathroom. There was a crib and a changing table and a bouncer, the stroller, the carseat, the toys, even a rocking chair. Your mom had even sent some hand-knitted blankets, hats, booties, Alex, they were adorable. I’d never seen Jo so happy and excited. She was ready. She was sad you weren’t there with her, but she was so happy and ready for that little boy.” 

Hesitating for a moment, Meredith shoves her hands in her scrub pockets and then pulls them out as her hand falls on something. She glances at the piece of paper in her hands and then hands it to Alex.

He stares, with tears in his eyes, at the grainy ultrasound photo, one of the last ones taken before Jo’s emergency c-section. 

“I’ve never seen someone so ready for a baby, but Jo was. She had this ultrasound picture hanging on the fridge. I forgot I’d shoved it into my pocket.” She says the last part quieter, but Alex still catches it, making eye contact and urging her to continue, knowing she hadn’t told the full story quite yet. 

“She was happy, until her world came crashing down on her. And then everything was dark. She refused tp willingly check herself into inpatient care this time, and I’m not married to her so I couldn't do it. Link isn’t legally her brother, so we were out of options–”

“You called me here to send her to psych?” Alex asks in disbelief. 

“No.” Meredith says softly as the tears well up in her eyes again. “Jo doesn’t need to be admitted to psych because she’s dead.” 

And with that, Alex’s whole world seems to completely shatter. 

“She’d tucked away a few ultrasound photos and some letters she’d written to you and never sent. Link and I must’ve missed them because when I came back to the loft this morning, there she was, curled up in one of your worn out t-shirts, clutching his baby blanket, and the letters were next to her. She wasn’t breathing when I came in. Her pain medication from her surgery was completely gone, but the bottle was on the nightstand and there was an empty bottle of tequila next to it too.”

Alex gets up, throwing the chair he was sitting in, across the room in anger. “Why wasn’t someone with her?! You knew she shouldn’t have been alone! I should’ve been there! You should’ve called me!” He screamed. 

“There was a mass casualty last night, a huge nineteen car pile up on the main highway, and all traumas were headed our way. It was all hands on deck and no one could be there with her. She said she would be okay. It was the middle of the night. I even waited until she’d fallen asleep before I left.” She explained but she knew nothing she said would help. Nothing she said would fix it. Nothing she said would make Alex feel better.

So, he continued to scream, and yell, and throw things. He punched the wall until his hand was bloody and bruised and there was an Alex Karev’s fist size hole in the wall, but he didn’t care. Nothing he could possibly do would bring Jo back to him. Nothing he did would bring the love of his life back to him. 

And he’d never forgive himself for leaving her in the first place. Because maybe then he could’ve been there. Maybe then he could’ve saved her. Maybe then they’d both be alive. Maybe then he’d have never lost the love of his life completely. 

Maybe then he wouldn’t hate himself as much as he did now, and forever. 

                          —————————

listen, if you want to come yell at me, by all means, please do. I deserve it. I am ready. I have accepted that this will be the fic that causes me to lose friends. 

[eleanorbloom]

When You’re Ready Ch. 16

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f! MC (Eleanor Bloom) x Ethan Ramsey.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: Angst and cussing.

A/N: Hello! It’s time for some delicious angst from chapter 11 from OH. I hope you enjoy it! 😘

Taglist @utterlyinevitable @binny1985 @shanzay44 @choicesficwriterscreations @laiba-the-person @starrystarrytrouble @lahellacute @lucy-268  @cinnamonspongecake @romewritingshop @bratzlahela @mrs-raleighcarrera​   @mercury84choices  @curiousconch

_______

Chapter 16: Into The Dark.

If I could choose, I'd have you stay

But I gave my heart to you, so is yours to break

Before my fears tear us apart

Won't you follow me into the dark?

A grunge song from the 90s was playing in the background, but Bryce was barely paying attention. Even if back in his teenage days he was all in the grunge and rebel aesthetic, now was too troubled to hum Nirvana.

The image of Eleanor leaving the softball game with Ramsey was stuck in his head just as all the painful memories do. You want to forget them, but they're already past your hippocampus,  all settled in your guts, determined to make you hurt and distort everything about them. You forget what is real and what is not. There's only pain, and you can't help but soak in it.

Bryce knew he had no right to be this mad because he had pushed Eleanor to do it, but he couldn't help it. There wasn't a good way to react to the fact that Eleanor would have dinner with Ethan at his apartment to talk.

Eleanor hadn't given him any reason to doubt, though. She hadn't changed a thing towards him since Ethan and she made peace. She wasn't distant or suspiciously nervous or guilty. If so, she looked a lot less affected by Ethan, and when she talked about him was very casual. Almost nonchalant. But he wasn't sure if that was an act, or not.

He wasn't sure about anything. If she was smiling when she got in the car; if she was looking guilty when she approached him. He even started to doubt about past days. That's the problem with memories mixed with pain. Everything was distorted.

"B? Are you okay?"—Sienna asked him, waking him up from his trance.

"Yeah, sure, just a bit tired, that's all."—He replied almost mechanically, giving her a quick glance.

Sienna looked at him with a sad smile before standing up and sitting next to him so they could have more privacy, while Elijah and Jackie were in deep conversation with Sothy and Gary.

"It's Eleanor, right? I saw she left with Dr. Ramsey."

"N…"

"Please, don't lie to me."

Bryce sighed looking directly into his half-drunk jar of beer.

"Yes, Si."—He admitted—"I know I shouldn't be worried, Eleanor has been honest with me the whole time, but…"

He closed his eyes, ashamed. He hated to be this way. He wasn't like that in the first place, but overthinking was his best way to be prepared for the worst. To not be surprised by the punch the moment it's thrown.

"…there's always the possibility that Ramsey will say exactly what she wants to hear and that could change everything for her. For us."

Sienna hummed thoughtfully for a few seconds.

"Yes, but also might be the words she needs to open her eyes and realize he's not for him. Nothing is 100% sure."

"I know, but I don't wanna be optimistic in this case. If this goes wrong…"—He shook his head trying to discard the fatalist thought off his head.—"Has she… tell you anything about him? I don't wanna interfere in Eleanor's privacy, believe me, but… maybe you know something that I don't?"

"If I know if Eleanor has been in something suspicious with Dr. Ramsey?"

"God, when you put it that way, I hate myself for asking."

"I wouldn't break Eleanor trust, I swear, but she's been sincere with you, Bryce, maybe even more sincere with you than she's with me."—Bryce nodded, kind of relieved—"She owes you honesty, and I believe she's been acting accordingly to that. I haven't seen or heard anything unusual. She's interested in you as usual."

"And what about Ramsey? As uninterested and distant as usual?"

Sienna took a few times before responding.

"I've seen her professional and friendly, just like she was towards him at the beginning of your intern year, before… you know, before Miami and all that jazz."

Before he opened his mouth and confused her. Before he kissed her and made her believe they would have a future together. Yeah. That could've been very tranquilizing to Bryce but he knew Ethan's words still held some power over Eleanor, that even if they were all professional now, a word from him could change everything.

Sienna observed how conflicted he was and she took his hand in hers.

"B, I'm sure nothing will happen."

Bryce felt embarrassed. He wasn't used to this, to open up to people. He had barely managed to open up to Eleanor, with a lot of effort, and now there he was, opening his heart almost easily to Sienna, but for some reason, it felt good. For once in his life, he didn't feel alone in this path. He now knew he wasn't the only one who wanted to be the one for Eleanor in the end, and that gave him a bit of reassurance after feeling hopeless the past hours.

"I really want to believe that, Si."

"Don't mortify yourself, okay? You'll know more in the morning."

"I hope so. Thank you for listening."

"Anytime, my friend."

She gave him a reassuringly pat on the shoulder and tried to change the subject to cheer him up.

*

It was almost midday when Bryce got out of the OR and bumped into Elijah after wandering for some hallways.

"Hey mate, have you seen Elle?"—He asked. —"I have my cellphone in my locker and I can't find her."

"No, I haven't seen her. Since yesterday, actually."

His eyes opened wide and the panic froze him for a second.

"You… You didn't see her this morning?"

"No, she wasn't at home last night either, and maybe she just stayed the night here?"—Elijah shrugged.

Sienna had told Elijah that Eleanor couldn't join them after the game because she'd been paged, so he just assumed that if she wasn't at home, Eleanor was still at the hospital. But Bryce knew better.

"Do you want to call her with my phone?"—Elijah took out his phone from his coat and offered it to him.

"No, I… I, crap! I actually have to prep for another surgery."—He said, watching the hour on Elijah's phone screen.—"I'll reach out later. Thanks anyway!"

Bryce waved and then got lost behind the emergency stairs' door.

If somehow he had managed to have hopes this morning, every single one of them was screwed by now.

Eleanor had spent the night with Ramsey.

And if she did so, it only meant one thing. Love. That was the only reason Eleanor would go all the way with him. She had been very reluctant to all that "let Ethan make a move on you" thing, and he didn't want to believe that she would be so hypocrite to just go all the way with him out of curiosity. Not when she had been avoiding him for four months.

There was only one explanation, and as he started to feel how painful that realization was, soon he decided that he didn't want to deal with it now. There was nothing he could do, so he just had to focus on work and seclude himself from anything that would involve Eleanor and bumping into her: cafeteria, doctor's lounge, even the Nurses' Stations if he could. That was his only way to survive the day.

Late in the afternoon, Bryce went to his locker, worried that Keiki would've tried to reach him during the day. He checked, as he supposed, that Eleanor had sent him several texts asking to meet her. The last of them were more insistent. She was affected by Kyra's diagnosis and she wanted to talk.

He was affected too but he couldn't bear to be close to her at that moment, so he ignored her texts and just focused on finding a way to help Kyra.

He knew there was something else that could be done to help her, so after analyzing and overanalyzing her latest tests' results, he talked with Dr. Tanaka about the possibility to make an Extrapleural Pneumonectomy on Kyra and replace the lining of chest and heart with fore-tex, a procedure he had done a couple of times before with him, and he wanted to do it on his own.

Tanaka, impressed with his disposition, questioned him, however, about the difficulty of this procedure, considering that even if he had assisted two times, it required a lot more time to be ready to perform the surgery by himself and that it was better if he only assisted. Bryce, always ready for a challenge, and even more willing if it meant helping a friend, gave him enough reasons to let him fly solo this time. After making an exhaustive interrogatory, and confirm he indeed knew the procedure well, Tanaka accepted his proposition and went to talk to Dr. Banerji, to ask for his consent.

A couple hours later, Tanaka paged him to tell him he could do the surgery, and due to the delicate state of Kyra, it had to be soon, so Bryce ran to Kyra's office to deliver the news and almost forcing her to agree with his idea.

The offer was tempting. It was a really good option, and Bryce managed to give her all the information and all the possibilities, probabilities, and outcomes that could be expected after the surgery. It was risky, Kyra might die during the procedure, but it was a risk worth taking because if everything went well, she had a high chance to be cancer-free in the future, a scenario that had never been offered before.

That information, and the fact that Bryce was so excited about performing the surgery by himself, made Kyra impossible to say no to him.

By the end of the day she was admitted, and while Kyra and he were in the middle of their usual banter and teasing, Eleanor appeared to check on her, amazed that she had agreed to be readmitted.

The moment he saw her, his stomach flipped. He had been so focused on helping Kyra that Bryce had completely forgotten about Eleanor, and somehow he was glad it was that way because just being close to her made him feel… Scared. Hopeless. Like he wasn't himself.

After informing Eleanor about the procedure, and a few minutes of chatting, Bryce and she decided to leave Kyra to rest.

The moment they were alone, Eleanor threw the first bomb. They needed to talk. And that totally froze him. She looked scared and maybe guilty, and for once in his life, Bryce felt cowardice. He had always been ready for whatever life throws at him, even the worst. But he wasn't prepared to have a conversation with Eleanor, so he just pretended to be really tired and said they could talk another day. It wasn't a lie, he was tired, but in different circumstances, tiredness was never a reason to not spend time with Eleanor. He was just delaying the inevitable.

So he went home and found Keiki watching the TV, waiting for him to have dinner.

"Hey, glad you came, I'm starving."—She said, standing from the couch.

"I'm sorry. You know there's no need for you to wait for me, right?"

"I know, but I already have breakfast and lunch alone, so, I would like to have company at least at dinner."

Bryce sighed and guilt and sadness twisted in his guts.

"I'm sorry, you're right."

Keiki turned to him, his somber expression too evident to ignore.

"Are you okay?"

He hesitated for a moment. He hated lying, but in this case, part of the reason he was sad didn't involve telling a lie to his sister.

"Actually no. Kyra, my friend, was readmitted."

"What happened?"

"Her cancer is worsening"

"Oh, I'm so sorry. Is it… too critical?"

"Yeah, her chances of surviving are low, but I found a way to level up her chances and maybe beat it up."

"Really?"

Bryce told her about the procedure and that he would do it as lead surgeon.

"Woow."—Keiki just said after hearing her brother and imagining him bossing around the OR like in the movies.

"'Wow, bro, you're the coolest', I think those were the words you're missing"

Keiki punched him in the shoulder before sauntering to the kitchen to turn on the oven.

"Okay, maybe you're kinda cool."

Bryce walked toward the kitchen counter and leaned over.

"Have you thought what I told you the other day?"—Bryce asked, watching as Keiki was taking two plates from a cupboard.

"About calling mom and dad?"

"Yes. You're missing school, Keiki. You're alone all day, you need to do something with your life."

"I know. But I'm scared of what they could do."

"Knowing them and considering all the time has passed and they've done anything… maybe they won't do anything and they'll just agree to make things easier."

Keiki stared at him, unsure. And he couldn't blame her. He didn't want to risk her stay with him, but the fact that Keiki was missing school and she wasn't able to do anything more than being at home or explore the city alone, was worrying him too much. Bryce was giving her all the spare time he had, but it wasn't enough, and of course, she needed to continue her education, and the only way to get it, was calling their parents.

"Two more days, Keiki. After Kyra's surgery, I'll call our parents, and it's better if you are agreeing with this, alright?"

"Yes. Okay, I'll think about it."

The next day he didn't have to do so much effort to evade Eleanor. He was busy all day going in and out of surgeries, and Eleanor was really busy with Senator Farrugia, the star case of the Diagnostic Team. By the end of the afternoon, he bumped into her, and, while managing to hide his surprise, he did his best to not look nervous or hurt.

But he was nervous.

Nervous to be around her and seeing the guilt in her eyes, the eyes of the person who might break his heart. But he knew he could do so much better. He had years mastering the art of hiding his feelings, and even if it was a lot more difficult with Eleanor, it wasn't impossible, so he just teased her when she announced she was going to an interview with Ethan –the damn Ethan— to give the appearance that he was a lot less affected than yesterday.

But she knew him too well, and at that moment, he hated it.

"Bryce… We need to talk. I know you're crossed with me."

She said and he nodded deadpan, unable to deny it. But he brushed it off again. Cowardice again. He couldn't. And honestly, the best he could do at that moment was to avoid it. Not have a difficult conversation before such an important day as Kyra's surgery. He needed to focus. And she agreed, of course she agreed. She gave him her characteristic understanding smile he loved so fucking much. That smile that always made him wrapping her by the waist and kissing her like the world was about to end. So he tried to leave before the temptation was too big.

But she stopped him as if she knew she could test his reins.

How could she know him so damn well?

"Could you give me a kiss at least?"—She muttered with those puppy eyes she rarely used.

He was the one who would use puppy eyes when he did something wrong or was too annoying with her. But Eleanor, looking at him pleading… For a kiss? No. That wasn't normal. And although that guilty and apologetic look on her face made him fear the worst, he surrendered. He needed that too, but he did his best to hide how much he wanted to kiss her and hug her and not letting her go ever.

Instead, he gave her a chaste kiss on the lips. And even if he saw the hurt in her eyes for being too cold with her, that kiss hurt him the most. It was against all what he was. He wasn't like that, he didn't use to ignore people. He hated to ignore Eleanor, and not kissing her, and not talking to her. But it had to be done. He had to protect himself.

The last time he saw her was the next morning, while he was wheeling Kyra to her surgery. Her expression had changed drastically. There was no guilt in her eyes, no pleading and she wasn't pushing his boundaries either.

"I know she will be golden with you in there, but please, take care of her for me."

"Of course, I will, Elle."—He replied softly, addressing how worried Eleanor was about Kyra. He was too.

Eleanor looked at him like she wanted to say something else, but instead, he just stared with her eyes swelling with warmth, candor, and something he wasn't sure what it was, but it made his heart skip a beat.

A few moments later, she muttered tenderly:

"I'm so proud of you, Bryce, you have no idea."

Then she kissed him on the cheek and turned to Kyra, witnessing the exchange from below, with a smirk on her face.

"I second. I'm proud of you too, hotshot."

Eleanor hugged Kyra one last time and then took a step back so Bryce could continue wheeling her to the OR.

The procedure went by without complications.

It had passed more than three hours when he heard loud whispers and surprised expressions, and people walking in and out of the observation deck, which startled him a bit. It wasn't a normal situation that people would act that way in the deck.

"What's going on?"—Bryce asked, looking up at a resident entering the OR.

"Sorry, Dr. Lahela. Chief Banerji sent me to round up whoever I could. The feds are here… Something's going on upstairs."

He looked up at Ines Delarosa, who was observing the procedure since the beginning. Her expression had changed. She was scared and her eyes somehow looked at him with worry.

"Dr. Delarosa, what's happening up there?"

She reluctantly hit the button and answered:

"There's been an assassination attempt on Senator Ed Farrugia and apparently some staff were caught in the crossfire."

Ed Farrugia. All his bones froze up at the mention of his name.

"Ines, that was Eleanor's patient. Was she in there?"

Ines hesitated before answering. Those two seconds felt like an eternity to him.

"Yes".

For the first time in his career, his scalpel hand shook. All his body trembled, his chest started beating fast, his mind went numb and a lump grew in his throat, making him stand motionless for a few seconds.

"Is she okay?"—He asked in a tiny voice, and then he cleared his throat, trying to regain composure.—"Is Eleanor okay, Ines?"

"So far, yes. The assassin used a kind of spray, the whole floor's been evacuated, and she's been put under quarantine, along with Bobby Gunderson, Danny Cardinal, and former paramedic, Rafael Aveiro. The CDC is here, and the FBI are on their way."

At least she wasn't wounded, but the use of a chemical weapon wasn't any consolation either. It was unpredictable and quickly lethal if it's not treated on due time.

Eleanor was at risk and the only thing he could think was running to her side. But after a few seconds, he remembered where he was. Kyra needed him. He was the reason she had agreed to that surgery. He couldn't fail her. And he had promised Eleanor that he would take care of her.

Despite the horrible feeling, and that his legs were burning for running to Eleanor's side, Kyra was first. Her life was depending on him, so he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and somehow managed to control his mind and fear for two hours until Dr. Tanaka finally entered the room to continue the surgery.

The moment Bryce left the OR he started running upstairs to the fourth floor. Once inside the empty floor, staffed with a few nurses and some feds, he found Ethan talking through the Diagnostics Room door. When Ethan felt his footsteps, he turned and approached him with a solemn expression.

"Ethan. How is Eleanor?"

"She's stable. Giving her symptoms, she was the least affected by the canister. Rafael is with her but in worse shape. They have put Danny in a separated room with life support, and a few minutes ago they took Bobby Gunderson's body."

"What?"—His heart did a flip for the umpteenth time that day.—"His b... body, you say… Bobby died?"

"Yes, he received the major amount of the content as he was close to Travis, Senator’s assistant, and who planned all this. Bobby died almost instantly."

This was worse than he expected. Eleanor might die. She could've died if it wasn't because she happened to be in the right place. Otherwise she…

She would be dead by now.

Ethan saw his troubled eyes and for a second, it seemed like they both shared the same painful and desperate concern, but after a moment, he came back to his stoic poise, like he reminded he was Eleanor's doctor and he had to behave like that in front of Bryce too.

"And what the hell was in that fucking canister?"

"It's unknown, not even Travis was able to tell us. I'll have to get information from the FBI someway because so far they haven't shared a bit. If they don't share anything, we'll have to investigate on our own."

"Are you serious? Ethan, they must help to find out what's in there, people might die because of their fucking national security and crap. She… She could…"

He couldn't bring himself to say those words.

"I know. I'm furious too, but you need to calm down, Bryce. Right now, the best we can do is give Eleanor peace and stability."

Bryce took a deep breath and nodded.

"Go to see her, I'm sure she will be happy to see you, but please… Pull yourself together. Even if she doesn't want to show it, she's scared, and we need her in her best mood to inform us if her symptoms or Rafael's are changing. She's our best hope to solve this case."

Bryce followed down the hall until he reached the quarantine room. Eleanor was talking to Rafael, who smiled at him weakly when he spotted him on the other side of the door.

"Elle"

Eleanor turned around and her eyes sparkled with hope for a moment.

"Bryce? Wh… What are you doing here?"

"You cannot expect I won't race to your side if I know you're in danger, babe. I had to come to see you."

"I know, but… Kyra?"

"Dr. Tanaka is taking care of her now. I did everything I could until he showed up. I… I don't know if I could've kept up much longer."

Bryce frowned to show his worry, but he gave everything he had to hide how terrified he was actually.

"I'm happy you're here. Thank you."

Bryce gave her a reassuring smile. She was trying really hard to stay calm, but her whole body was shaking, and Bryce could read the fear in her eyes. The desperation, the hopelessness.She was losing it.

"... and no one knows what was in the fucking canister, not even Travis knows! We all could die without knowing."—She said while telling Bryce how everything happened. She shook her head.—"Fucking asshole, how did I not realize sooner?"—Her voice was caught up in her throat.

"This is not your fault, babe. He had been planning to kill him for years. The only responsible it’s him.”

“I know, but I could’ve been more subtle. I brough Bobby here and now he’s.. And Danny, and Raf and me.... Could..."

Her lips quievered, and large tears streamed down her face. She wanted to have hopes but it was difficult to. She couldn't get the image of Bobby dying off her head. She knew she could die. They were racing against time.

"Hey, babe, look at me."—He said softly—"Look at me."

Eleanor obeyed, looked directly into his eyes. Bryce laid a hand against the glass, and she slowly lifted her own to meet it. Even if they couldn't touch, the gesture seemed to have the same soothing effect on her as if they were really touching.}

Just the fact that he was there was enough for her.

"Everything's going to be fine, alright? Everyone here is doing their best to help you, and I'll help however I can too. Stay strong, beautiful. You'll get through this, I know."

"Thank you. Thank you for being here despite… you know, everything that has happened."

There was a hint of guilt in her eyes, but the guilt he was feeling was even bigger, but couldn't let it show.

"Doesn't matter know. What matters is that you're okay."

Bryce gave her a reassuring smile, but she was barely paying attention now, it was like she got lost in his eyes.

"You're doing amazing, princess."—He insisted—"Keep holding on, okay?"

Eleanor didn’t say or do anything, just stared at him, with an amazed smile for a few seconds until she broke the spell of silence.

"I love you."—She whispered lovingly, adoringly, her eyes conveying love, admiration, thankfulness. But again, there was something different about the way she was looking at him that he couldn't name. He was too blind to realize what it was.

"I love you too babe. So much."

"No, what I mean-"

But she was interrupted by Ethan, who appeared beside Bryce and looked at them ruefully.

"I'm sorry for interfering, but with June and Baz are getting inside to get some samples. Danny's too weak to risk even drawing blood right now, so we'll have to get them from you and Rafael."

Eleanor nodded.

"I'll be near if you need anything, okay?"—Bryce gave her one last look, before winking at her and turning towards the hallway.

*

About an hour has passed since Bryce saw Eleanor. He was lost in sight, observing Danny from outside, when Aurora stood beside him.

"Hey”

“Hey Aurie”

“I wanted to know are you holding up."

He breathed heavily, considering his words.

“I’m terrified as fuck, but managing to not lose my shit for Eleanor’s sake.”

Aurora gave him an inquiring glance before insisting.

“Okay, now how are you holding up for real?”

Bryce shook his head and then laughed bitterly. There he was again, opening his mouth even if a part of his head was telling him to shut up. But another part of him, one really powerful, was begging for someone who could save him from the hell he had inside his head. 

“Like crap. Guilty. Ashamed. Stupid.”—He replied sharply.

“Why?”

Aurora turned to him, but he couldn’t look at her back.

“I’ve been ignoring Eleanor for the last three days and now I can’t stop thinking of how much time I wasted. How bad she must have felt… That she’s alone there… and I…"

"Bryce, don't go there." 

“What else can I do, Aurora? What else besides feeling guilty?—He shoved his hair with both hands in frustration, still unable to look at her.—“I… I should've listened to her, even if what she wanted to say would hurt me, but at least she wouldn't have felt bad because I ignored her."

Aurora knew what was happening, Eleanor had told her the day before, and somehow, she wanted to do something to open his eyes and made him realize that nothing his mind was thinking, was real. She also knew it wasn’t her place to do it, but he was blind and the circumstances were... painfully unusual. 

“Bryce, you got it all wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“About what happened that day.”

“What do you know?”

“Everything. Eleanor told me.”

“Even about… Ramsey?”

“Yes. About him, about you.”

“And what happened between him and Eleanor that night?”

“Bryce, I can’t tell you that. That’s something you have to talk with her. But you have to know that whatever you’re thinking about that day, it didn’t happen.”

Bryce considered what he was gonna say for a second. What he had been thinking was disgusting, and he wasn’t sure how Aurora would react, but that was the only way to find out what he had been fearing to know for three days now.  

"I thought that she gave him a chance. That she… That she slept with him” He confessed, with evident shame.

Aurora gave him a humorless smile, shooking her head.

“She didn’t.”

“But Elijah told me he wasn’t at home that night, so I thought...”

“That was a misunderstanding, she slept here, at the hospital. But she… She didn’t sleep with Ramsey, Bryce. In fact, that won’t happen. Ever."

If Bryce had been feeling guilty for ignoring her despite the fact that she would break his heart, he had no idea what was the sentiment he was feeling now. There was a chance that he could lose her, and all he he had been doing was ignoring her for something that didn’t happen only because he let the fear ate him alive.

___

[summahsunlight]

All For You, Part 7

Rating: T

Word Count: 2k+

Pairing: Poe Dameron X Pilot!Reader

Summary: Your life in the Resistance was not easy, being married to Commander Poe Dameron and a skilled pilot yourself. When you unexpectedly get pregnant, your life is forever changed. Raising a child on base is hard, but never having parents of your own as a child, you are determined to love your little girl and give her the best life. Poe is equally as devoted to you and your daughter, vowing to keep you both safe from the impending threat of the First Order.

Taglist: @thescarletknight2014​, @elmoakepoke​, @xxidontwikeitxx​, @liadamerondjarin​, @marvelofwitch​, @blushingwueen​, @april-14-blog​, @softly-sad, @agents-assemble, @paintballkid711​

Taglist is still open! Just let me know if you want to be added!

Being confined to your bed had some perks. One of them being that you saw more of Poe throughout the day than you normally would. He would bring you meals, pop in to make sure you were still in bed, and when he wasn’t available, he’d send BB-8. You found that the little droid was far more enthusiastic and eager to take care of you than you thought he would be. Somedays you wondered if Poe sent BB-8 along just to make you smile.

Leia wss doing her best to keep him on base now that you were on bed rest, but you knew that sooner or later, she was going to need him again to go on a mission.

Doctor Kalonia informed you that the baby could arrive any day now at your last check-up--which had taken a painfully long time to get to since Poe made you walk so slowly. You rubbed your belly now, feeling the building excitement and dread at the thought of finally welcoming your baby girl into the galaxy. She was still very active, always on the move, which you blamed her father for.

Poe would just smile at you when you complained about the baby’s constant movement and how she had inherited it from him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” your husband greeted you as he entered the quarters.

“Hi. Please tell me you brought lunch!” you exclaimed.

Grinning, Poe handed you some food. “I did. You didn’t think I’d let my girls go hungry now did you?”

You stuffed some of the sandwich in your mouth. “Well, considering how late you are today--for a while there I thought you might have forgotten about us.”

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Poe leaned forward and pressed his lips to your cheek. “Never, baby. I could never forget about you or our little girl. Speaking of our daughter--is she still active?”

“Constantly on the move. Just like her father.”

“Nah, she's just excited to come out and join us.”

“Well then she gets her enthusiasm from her father.”

Poe chuckled and then his eyes grew serious. “Leia needs me,” he simply said.

Swallowing, you gently nodded your head. “How long will you be gone?”

His fingers slipped along your back. “I’m not sure. At least a day; I can leave Bee with you...’

“No!” you cried, suddenly. “He needs... he needs to go with you!”

“Sweetheart I can get another droid for the mission,” Poe said.

“No, you can’t! I only trust Beebee to take care of you!”

“Now you sound like BeeBee-Ate.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks. Your emotions were running so high already but the thought of Poe going out on a mission without BB-8, who on a few occasions was the whole reason Poe was still alive--it made you terrified. You couldn’t lose Poe now, not with the birth of your child so close. Your daughter was going to need her father.  “Please, please, take him with you.”

Wiping the tears from your cheeks, Poe sighed. He shifted on the bed to pull you into his arms and whispered, “Okay...I’ll take Bee if it will make you feel better.”

Hiccuping, you buried your cheek against his shoulder. “Yes. It would make me feel better.”

“I’ll have Rose check-in on you,” Poe promised, kissing the top of your head.

“O-okay,” you whimpered, hating how scared you sounded.

“Sweetheart, I’ll be fine. Promise.”

“I know you probably will be, but I’m still worried.”

Poe wished there was more to say to you to ease your fears--but there wasn’t. He pressed one more kiss to your hair and then untangled himself from your arms. He had to get moving; Black Squadron was taking off in the next thirty minutes and he had mission prep. Taking your face in his hands, he studied every feature and then he smiled. “Don’t have that baby while I’m away.”

You laughed, even as tears streamed down your cheeks. “I don’t think I have much say on when the baby decides she’s ready to come out into the galaxy. Just get back before that happens, okay?”

His thumbs stroked your cheek. “I love you.”

Blinking back tears, you rasped, “I love you, too.”

Poe kissed you, lingering longer than he probably should have, but it was breaking his heart leaving you right now when you were bed ridden and could give birth any day.  But he needed to go; he needed to go to ensure that you and your baby were safe.

-----

Twenty-four hours turned into thirty-six that Poe was away.

Rose did indeed check-in on you frequently to make sure that you were comfortable, fed, and helped you get to the refresher.  She tried to keep an upbeat attitude but you knew she was nervous that Black Squadron was away so long as well. After all, this was supposed to be a reconniance mission.

You busied yourself with watching holo-movies or reading. Sometimes Kaydel would stop by and work with you. Still, your fears that Poe wasn’t going to return were ever present.

As it passed the forty-eight hour mark that Poe was gone you noticed how increasing uncomfortable you were. By the tine Rose stopped by to bring you lunch, you were in mild pain.

“Do you want me to call the doctor?” Rose questioned.

“No,” you responded. “I’m nine months pregnant. There’s just no comfortable position to sit in.”

“Y/N--I think you’re in labor. We need to call her.”

“Labor? Rose...I’m not in labor. Go back to work.”

Rose hesitated. She was pretty certain you were going into labor but she also had learned over the last two days not to argue with you--Poe had been pretty clear to her that she shouldn’t upset you and that it could make the stress on you and the baby worse. “Fine, but I’m coming back in an hour and if you’re still in this pain, I’m calling the doctor.”

You agreed to those terms and watched her leave. Trying to get comfortable, you started reading the book Rose had left you. Or you attempted to read the book. The pain was getting worse; was it possible the tear was getting worse? You weren’t sure how that was possible, you had barely moved from your bed for the last several weeks.

Wincing, you tried to grab at the commlink on the nightstand, but your hand was shaking so hard that it fell to the floor. You cursed watching it roll across the floor. You had two options here--get up and get it, which you were sure you could hear Poe yelling at you from wherever he was--or just wait until Rose returned.

Under normal circumstances you probably would have waited for Rose, but the sharp pains coming from your abdomen sent you into a panic. If you were not in labor then something was wrong and you had no way of letting anyone know unless you got off the bed and went to get the com.

Making your decision, you rolled out of bed and waddled towards the discarded commlink. It was not easy--nothing really was these days as big as your belly was--but you managed to pick the com up.  Fumbling with it for a few seconds, you got a hold of the medbay.

Just as the medic told you that she was going to send someone to come get you, you felt something warm and wet trickle down your inner thighs. Glancing down, to your horror you saw not only a pool of clear liquid underneath you but blood as well. “There’s blood! I’m bleeding!”

“Captain Dameron, please just stay calm. The team is on the way.”

“Stay calm? My baby could be dying!”

“Everything is going to be fine. Breathe, ma’am.”

“Poe isn’t here! He’s gone!”

The medic was still talking to you on the commlink, but the blood thundering in your ears drowned her out. The baby could not come yet! Her father wasn’t on base! He should be here! You felt sick to your stomach, you felt dizzy--the pain only grew in intensity and you just wanted to curl up into a ball and sob.

Hands gently grabbed a hold of you; you were not even aware that the team of medics had arrived and used override codes to get into your quarters. They were helping you down onto a gurney. A needle pricked your arm and you anxiously swatted at the droid that had done it.

“Captain,” the nurse explained, “we’re prepping you for surgery.”

“Surgery!” you gasped.

“Doctor Kalonia thinks it will be safer to deliver the baby this way.”

“What do you mean safer?”

The nurse helped the medical droid continue preparation to move you to the surgical bay. “The tear in your placenta has obviously enlarged and you’re bleeding. A natural birth would make the tear even worse and you could end up hemorrhaging. She just wants to make sure that both you and the baby have a safe, healthy delivery.”

You wanted to scream that this was not how things were supposed to go. Poe was supposed to be here and you were supposed to hold your daughter the moment she came into this galaxy--now, you were going to be in a surgical bay, probably semi-unconscious, and Poe was still not on base.

Everything hurt, everything was falling apart and you could barely breathe...

“Y/N! Breathe!!” Poe’s voice shouted through the haze.

“Poe?” you responded, weakly, opening your eyes.

Bright lights flashed overhead as the gurney was pushed through the base, but there was Poe, his concerned face right beside you. He managed a smile, even if you could see the fear in his brown eyes. “I’m here, sweetheart, it’s gonna be fine. Just breathe. You scared us for a second there.”

Somehow, even in this panicked state, Poe made everything seem like it was going to be okay. His hand gripped yours tightly, and he continued to smile at you, assure you that it was alright as you were moved into the surgical bay. Doctor Kalonia immediately checked your vitals, instructing her team to prep for the baby and you saw Poe’s jaw twitch. “Is she... is she okay, doctor?”

Kalonia smiled at you. “Your baby is fine. Heartbeat is strong. Let’s get her out of there and bring her into this world, okay? I think she’s ready.”

You managed a weak nod of your head as Poe pushed your hair back and kissed your forehead. It was really the last coherent moment you had, the last thing you even remember happening before you heard your baby’s first cries. You couldn’t see her, thanks to all the medical droids and nurses around you, but you could hear her.

Trying to lift your head so you could catch a glimpse of your baby, Poe gently eased you back down onto the cot. “Sweetheart, don’t move okay. She’s fine. I can see her! I counted ten little fingers and ten little toes! She’s perfect, just like her mama.”

“Can...can I see her?” you asked. Force did you sound tired.

“Lemme get her, alright?” Poe said, letting go of your hand.

He returned a few moments later, your little baby swaddled in a pink blanket, softly mewing. Seeing your baby for the first time brought happy tears to your eyes, mirroring Poe’s.  She looked so much like you, but you could see Poe in her--especially her wildly curly hair. You prayed she never lost it.

Poe gave the baby a little kiss and then situated her so she was close enough to you that you could give her kiss also and run your hand over her soft hair. She was perfect and you never wanted to stop holding her the moment Poe gently laid her across your chest.

You were so busy focusing on your baby that you were not aware that Kalonia and the nurses were still working or that Poe’s expression changed from positively beaming when he looked at your daughter to positively terrified when he glanced at the doctor. “Poe,” you said, softly, but still loud enough to grab his attention, “she needs a name. What are we going to call her?”

“I liked the last one you came up with,” Poe said, smiling at you.

“Emmeline?”

“Yeah. I think it’s perfect for her.”

As if on cue, the baby little out a little cry. You brushed soft kisses on her cheeks. “Emmeline. I like it.”

Poe saw the doctor step back out of the corner of his eye. She gestured for him to take the baby from you. “Honey, I need to take her now; the nurses need to do a little check-up. Everything is fine though, okay? You rest.”

Reluctantly you handed the baby back to your husband and watched through heavy lids as he handed her to the nurse. “Poe, I’m sleepy.”

“Go to sleep, baby,” he coaxed you. “Both Emmeline and I will be here when you wake up--and probably BeeBee-Ate too, he was rather worried about you when we arrived.”

“Then go tell him I’m fine,” you said, as you began drifting off to sleep. “I don’t want me to worry, Poe.”

Licking his lips, Poe watched as you fell asleep thanks to the anesthesia. If BB-8 knew what was happening right now, that you needed an operation to stop the internal bleeding from your placenta tear--he’d be worried, and perhaps just as terrified that you were going to die as Poe was.

[emmy-writes-sometimes]

maybe a headcanon for chris’ daughter having to calm him down because he’s worried about dodger?

This is so cute honestly omg, I’m doing this right now!! This reminds me so much of when we had to put my dogs down early this month and last year and these were all definitely things I did to make myself feel better. Warning: Fluff. 

So your dad had sat you down a few weeks ago and told you that Dodger definitely needed surgery, and that clearly upset both of you. Dodger was your best friend, so of course you were upset. But you didn’t see how bad he was until it was the day that you were supposed to drop him off.

You went to Starbucks on the way and got Dodger a puppucino, filming and laughing while he devoured it. Your dad was the only one allowed to go in because of Covid, so you had to say goodbye to him in the car and your dad let you keep his collar since he didn’t need it in there. 

You and your dad went to grab lunch at the Chinese place over by the vet and brought it home and the house instantly felt super empty because Dodger wasn’t there. The vet was emailing him pictures of Dodger, saying how good he was being so far while they were prepping him. 

“Dad, stop looking at it. It’ll just make you miss him more,” you insisted. You were in tears, too, because this meant Dodger was getting a little older and you wanted that damn dog to live forever because he was what made your family whole. He was your dad’s favorite child, after all. 

You forced your dad to play board games with you, sitting on the floor and taking his phone so he couldn’t see how long Dodger had been gone. 

Eventually it was time to go to bed and you knew that your dad didn’t want to go to sleep because it meant he’d be there without Dodger, who slept with him for most of the night until he would come to your room and cuddle with you. 

So you gave him a list of snacks to go get down at the gas station and while he was gone, you blew up the air mattress and found all of his favorite DVD’s, including the one with Dodger’s namesake, and when he got back he was surprised that you’d actually made a living room fort like you’d joked about doing forever. 

Throughout the night he was getting progressively worried, and eventually you couldn’t take it anymore. You looked over at your dad and saw that he was crying, just at the mention of Dodger’s name in the movie. 

“He’s gonna be okay, Dad,” you insisted, knowing that you had to step up and be the rational one. He was always a worrier when it came to his babies. Especially now. 

You reached your arm around his waist and cuddled up with him, hugging him to try and get him to calm down a little bit. Hugs always worked when he had panic attacks and this was like a mini panic attack, so you hoped it would help a little bit. 

“I’m just worried about my boy. All because of those dumb kids that shot him, I just...”

“I’m worried to. But he’s the best boy. He’ll get through this and we’ll see him tomorrow morning,” you insisted calmly. You just hugged your dad as he kept crying, and eventually he stopped. You looked up and saw that he was almost asleep. Suddenly you had another idea, and went and grabbed your laptop.

You scrolled through pictures of the dog, smiling and laughing with your dad as you put them up on the TV. 

“He’ll get through this. He’s a strong boy. And he loves you. I do, too.” 

“Thanks, baby. You know how to cheer your dad up, don’t you?” You finished looking through all of the pictures and videos and eventually just sent him to bed.

The next morning you woke up to your dad shaking you awake, all evidence of worry gone from his face.

“The vet just called. He’s gonna be okay!” Your dad exclaimed. You sat up and hugged him, tightly, before getting ready to go get your drugged- up dog with a new hip. 

A/N: I’m crying, thank you luv. 

[jungshookz]

hhhhh nurse!jk where he’s taking care of u before ur like surgery and u’ve always thought that like “damn i got a spicy nurse time to create a grey’s anatomy episode” then its prep time and they give the drugs and when y/n is Hopped Up she sees jk and its all “aYYYEEE ITS THE HOT NURSE™️” and its just constant flirting

➺ pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

➺ genre: nurse!jungkook!!!!! fluff that will give you cavities (remember to floss!!), y/n’s normally already really cute but somehow she’s cuter when she’s all looOoOopy and jungkook’s already obsessed 

➺ wordcount: 3.8k

➺ note: i loved this request and i think i went a little overboard but it was totally worth it!!! i don’t think general anaesthesia is typically used for wisdom teeth surgery but for the purposes of this drabble it iS also i have never gotten my wisdom teeth taken out but if nurse jungkook was there i would happily let the dentist harvest all of my teeth aLSO i have been waiting for forever to use this gif because jungkook is just so!! handsome!! 

(gif isn’t mine!)

                                        ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“take this blindfold off of me because i’m literally about to burst from excitement-!” you reach up to yank the blindfold off that tae foRced you to wear before leaving the apartment

he didn’t tell you where he and jimin were taking you but you have a feeling it’s that new dessert place because you’ve been hinting that you’ve wanted to go to it for like two weekS

and you’ve never been good at being subtle so (“oh my god it’s so nice out today! …you guys know what else is nice? bubble tea waffles.”)

although you will say

you didn’t expect a dessert place to smell so….

you’re not sure what the right word is

clinical?

you don’t think clinical is a smell but if you hAd to describe what your nose is picking up right now it has to be clinical

as soon as your eyes adjust to the light you-

…

oh my god

this isn’t the,,… this isn’t the new dessert place with the bubble tea waffles and the matcha soufflés,,.,. this isn’t a dessert place at all.,.,.

this is-

THE DENTIST’S OFFICE

“oh, no.” you let out a shaky breath and feel a shiver go up your spine

you hate the dentist’s

everything is just too.,. white

too sparkly

too clean

and yeah it’s probably good for a dentist’s office to be squeaky clean because that would indicate that their services are also squeaky clean but

uhUGHS

you just HATE going to see dentists

it all started when you were six years old

when you were six, you had to get one of your teeth pulled out and you’ll never forget the sound of the horrific crack of your tooth being pulled out of your gums

and the feeling of getting your tooth extracted!!!

the nurse didn’t inject enough of that numbing stuff into your gums so you felt the- 

hKJDHs

the fEELING

if you think about if for too long you start to get nauseous

the point is

there’s no way in hell you’re going to sit there and willingly let the dentist pull out all four of your wisdom teeth in one go

six year old y/n could barely handle one  

you whip around to look at jimin and tae “how could you do this to me?”

“we had to!”

you feel betraYED by tae because he said he was going to take you to the dessert place as a reward for doing well on your history paper but obviously he wants to punish you instead because instead of sitting down on a plush leather chair, you’re going to be sitting down on a cold, squeaky.., dentist’s chair?

is there even a name for that specific type of chair

you pause before pointing a finger at jimin “and, you! how could you do this to me?”

you feel even more betrayed by jimin because he was the only one who you talked to about that time you went to get your teeth cleaned and how the dentist ended up telling you that you needed to get your wisdom teeth removed (he also reminded you for the millionth time to remember to floSS)

he even did a whole x-ray on you and sure enough it did look like those molars of yours are trying to squeeze into places where they shouldn’T be squeezing into

you honestly would rather live with the discomfort for the rest of your life than have some freakshow dentist get all up in your mouth and pULL your teeth out like a psychopath

you should have suspected something because when jimin asked you when you were planning to get your wisdom teeth taken out you responded with a snort and a “never.” and he responded with a “…huh.”

“i trusted you, you know.” you seethe as you start pacing around a little bit “there’s a special place in hell for people like you.”

“oh, don’t be like that.” jimin makes a face before raising a brow

“don’t you need to make an appointment or something?? you can’t just drop in and-“

“we made an appointment for you, don’t worry!” taehyung offers you a smile and pats your shoulder before pointing to the front desk “i’ll go tell them you’re here now and i’ll even help fill out the form for you.”

“everyone has to get their wisdom teeth removed, y/n - it’s now or never.”

“yeah - and i prefer neVER- get me OUT OF HERE-“ you make a break for the door as soon as you’re sure taehyung won’t be there to stop you

jimin is strong too and you’ve never tried it but you’re pretty sure you could take him in a fight any DAY-

“wh- noT so FAST” jimin loops an arm around your waist and yanks you backwards right as your fingers brush up against the cold metal of the door handle

“please pLease i don’t wanna go in i don’t want to-“ you start sobbing as you flail your arms around before slouching down over jimin’s forearm

he lets out a groan and smacks the back of your head

“we know you have the ability to cry on command, cut it out!”

you immediately stop crying and you reach up to wipe at your watery eyes

you sniffle and stand up straight “…well, it was worth a shot.”

jimin unravels his arm around your waist and gives everyone around you guys a sheepish smile before yanking you back with a grunt of frustration “you’re acting like a child.”

“you’re acting like a child.” you grumble and plop down on the chair  

your fingers drum against the arm of the chair nervously

“you don’t have any allergies, right?” tae hums as he continues to fill out the form 

the pencil scratches against the paper as he ticks a box 

“…if i do, does that mean i don’t have to go through with this?”

tae snorts and scribbles something down on the clipboard in his hands “taking that as a no.”

okay

okay okay okay

don’t panic

there’s still a way out

maybe you can just excuse yourself to the bathroom

oH but you know for a faCt taehyung is going to follow you there to make sure you don’t run to the elevators

it’s okay

you’ve never tried flushing yourself down a toilet before but there’s no time like the preSENT

or maybe you can go out there and pull the fire alarm

you’re sure you have enough loose change in your bag to pay for a $1000 charge of misusing a fire alarm

maybe

“y/n y/l/n?”

you curse quietly when you hear your name being called

well

you had a chance to sliP away but instead you sat here like a sitting duCK

and now you’re about to get all your dang teeth pulled out of your mouth

you slouch further down on the seat in hopes that the nurse will eventually give up on you if you don’t respond

“she’s right here!” taehyung yanks you up off your seat before nudging you towards the-

oh

hello

you swallow thickly

to put it simply,.,.,.,. the nurse is really frickin attractive

perfectly tousled raven hair

a very boyish face, really

a very pretty smile!!!

two small, silver hoops hanging from his lobes

he looks to be about your age

younger than tae and jimin maybe?

and you didn’t think scrubs could ever look fashionable but he’s really pulling off his baby blue scrubs

“you want us to come in with you?” tae nudges you gently and you shake your head in response

“i think i’ll be good.” you clear your throat and wipe your clammy hands down on the back of your jeans

“alright, well… we’ll be here when you come out. there’s nothing to be nervous about, okay?”

“mhm, yeah” you respond absentmindedly and tae arches a brow

you’re more nervous about making a good first impression on the nurse rather than the fact that you have to have your teeth extracted

the last thing you want is for him to think that you’re a big ol baby or something

because you’re not!!!!

you are NOT a wimp

in fact you’ll rip your oWn teeth out of your mouth to prove it to him

just kidding

u can’t do that

jimin and tae both watch as you disappear behind the sliding glass doors

“…she thinks the nurse is hot, doesn’t she?” jimin hums as he flips through a magazine and crosses his legs

“she was practically drooling over him.”

there’s a bit of awkward silence as you follow the nurse to the room

you’re not sure if it’s appropriate for you to striKe up a casual conversation

“so, miss y/l/n. you’re here to get your wisdom teeth taken out?”

“oh, you can call me y/n. miss y/l/n makes me feel like i’ve aged 30 years.” you snort as you settle down in the chair

just as you remember it

cold and haRd

you clear your throat and watch as he shuts the door behind him “um… what’s your name?”

he looks up at you and offers you another one of those bright smiles

“i’m jungkook.”

goD

even his name is cute  

“so, do you think you can explain the whole procedure to me? i’ll probably be able to relax a little bit if i know what’s going to go down. also, am i getting all four of my wisdom teeth extracted today? because i don’t know if i’m going to be able to handle that but my friend taehyung said that-“

“you are definitely not getting all four of your wisdom teeth taken out today. i mean, some people like to get all of it done and over with in one go, but your friend mentioned that you were feeling a little anxious so i went ahead and informed doctor kim to extract just two of them!”

great

so you have to come back

“where’s the doctor?”

“he’ll be here in a bit. he’s just finishing up a root canal in the other room but he told me to take care of the anaesthesia first so that when he comes in here you’ll be ready to go- i don’t know why you needed to know all of that but… yeah!”

jungkook doesn’t know why he’s become so awkward all of a sudden

it’s almost like he’s completely forgotten how to socialise because he knoWs he’s just in Nurse Mode right now and he kind of wishes he was in Cool Nurse Mode because yoU seem like a very cool person that he would like to get to know outside of a wisdom teeth situation

if he would’ve known he was going to be working with a very cute patient he would’ve worn his cleaner scrubs

he chews on the inside of his cheek anxiously as he disinfects the gas mask to get ready to drug you up

you seem to be very friendly so he doesn’t know why he has the inability to keep a casual conversation going

lucky for him you also seem to have a lot of questions

“is it just going to be me and the doctor? alone?? in this room?” you swallow nervously and look around the room

you don’t trust dentists

you trust doctors but you don’t trust dentists

what kind of sane person would be interested in pulling teeth out of mouths?

the answer is nobody

in conclusion: dentists are psychopaths

“oh, i’ll be in here too!” jungkook chirps as he tosses the disinfectant wipe away

he spins around to face you as he leans back against the (too clean) counter

“you know, someone has to be there to take care of rinsing the blood out of your mouth-“

your eyes widen to the size of saucers and jungkook freezes

oh frick

he’s supposed to be calming you down not hYping you up!!!

“that- that was supposed to be funny but i’m realising that you probably aren’t the right audience for jokes about ripping bloody molars out of- you know whAT how about i start prepping you?” jungkook clasps his hands together before spiNNing back around and you can’t help but giggle lightly

he’s kind of dorky

which is cute

very cute

“on a scale from 1 to 10 how bad is this going to hurt?”

“you want my honest answer?” jungkook hums as he clips the little bib around your neck

jesus

he smells good too

“honesty is a good trait to have.” you lean back against the chair as jungkook turns to get the anaesthesia tank ready

you tongue prods against your back molars nervously

they seem like they’re wedged in there reAl tight so good luck to the dentist

“considering the fact that you’re going to be completely unconscious, i’d say… -2.” jungkook holds the mask up to the light to make sure there aren’t any specks of dust in there “trust me, you’re not going to feel anything. it’ll almost feel like a nap! and naps are nice!”

oh!

see

there you go

nothing to worry about

naps are super nice, after all

frick

maybe you should’ve asked tae to come in because you feel like you’d feel better if you were holding someone’s hand

unless…

“alright, let’s get this show on the road!” jungkook rolls over on his little wheely chair and drags the tank of gas behind him “dr. kim just texted me, he’ll be here in a minute.”

ok

okay okAy

just go for it

“this is… kind of a silly request, but-“ you swallow thickly before looking down at your folded hands “do you think you could hold my hand or something? you don’t have to, obviously, but i just- coming to the dentist’s makes me exTra nervous and i guess i would just feel a lot better if-“

your cheeks flush when jungkook reaches down and places his hand over yours

(he just hopes his hand isn’t clammy)

he gives you a little squeeze of reassurance before raising the mask for you to see

“you wanna count backwards from 10 for me?” jungkook smiles and tilts his head as he places the mask over your mouth

hm

“i think i might have to count back from 30 because i’m really not…”

oh god

what’s happening

you feel lightheaded

“not…feeling anything yet…” your eyelids flutter gently

hOo boy

you’re drifting

it feels like your soul is leaving your body

“alright, count back from 30 if you’d like.” jungkook hums and reaches over to brush a strand of hair away from your face

“30, 29, 28… 27… 20..6….”

you barely make it to 20 before you pass out

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(jungkook holds ur hand the entire time anD manages to keep ur mouth free of spit and blood at the same time!!)

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(your finger twitches at one point and he squeezes your hand tighter)

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“y/n?”

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“y/n…? can you hear me?”

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your eyelids flutter open and you wince slightly at the light shining direCtly into your eyes

“hey, there we go… you were out like a light! dr kim told me to stay with you til you woke up-”

whaz happenign

where er u

y u can’t feel face

y u cant pheel ur own face

you reach up to pat your face to check that it’s still there

o no

u can’t feel face

U CAN’T FEEL faCE

“my face- my faze is gone i can’t feel it-“ your eyes light up immediately when jungkook appears next to you “oh, it’s yOU-! you’re the- ur the hoT nurse-”

he laughs lightly as he helps you unclip the little bib

this isn’t the first time he’s been hit on by a drugged up patient but it never fails to surprise him

he’s not usEd to the attention ok!!!

“yes, it’s me! look, there’s nothing to worry about, you’re at the dentist’s-“

“i’m at the deNtist’s why am i at the dentist’s???” you jolt up from the chair and look around

WhY are you at the dentist’s??????

who brought you here!!!!!!

you’ll kill them

“to get your wisdom teeth taken out, remember?”

you can’t help but whimper when jungkook presents a little plastic baggie to you

lo and behold

two bloOdy molars

“why would u take them out? i’m already dumB enough and now i have leth wisdom becauthe u took them out-” your voice is kind of muffled because there are cotton pads in your mouth for the bleeding

your brows furrow in confusion and you shove your fingers into your mouth to pull the pads out

jungkook immEdiately reaches over and wraps his fingers around your wrist before tugging your hand out gently

“there’s thomething in my mouth” you say dumbly and jungkook nods

“you’re right, there is something in your mouth. no touching, okay?”

“ok”

jungkook always likes the aftermath of the anaesthesia because the patients kind of act like needy babies

it’s cute!!! and you were already cute before the drugs so now you’re extra cute and he’s feeling awfully soft for some reason

a moment of silence goes by

you clear your throat

“why i can’t- why can’t i feel my faze tho”

jungkook glances at you over his shoulder

“remember the drugs i put you on?”

you furrow your brows before looking down at where you’re sitting

you look back up at jungkook

“you didn’t put me on drugs you put me on a chair - see?” you pat the arm of the chair and jungkook raises a brow before chuckling lightly

“let’s get you back to your friends, okay?”

to say the least

jungkook barely knows you but he’s already completely enamoured and infatuated 

you’re like a little duckling!!!!!!!

he gave you his arm to hold onto so that he could walk you back to the lobby without you falling flat on your ass but you looped your arm through his anD grabbed onto his hand at the same time and his heart skipped a beat because that was so cute!!!

and now your cheek is smooshed against his bicep as you lean against him and he just-

he’s obsessed

“wait, i need to tell you something…” you shake your head and grab onto jungkook’s wrist “becuz honestly i’m prolllllly not going to come bak here because i don’t like not being able to feel my face-“

jungkook snorts

you have to come back because you still have two wisdom teeth to pull out

but he’s not going to say anything because you’re in a very delicate state right now

“yes?”

“you wanna go out for ithe cream one day?” you look up at him while keeping your cheek squished to his arm and he practically meLts at your doe eyes

he is a deer in the headlights of love

the slight lisp is just the cherry on top

“-orrrr coffeeeee if you’re not an ithe cream person but i’M an ithe cream person-“

“like on a date?”

jungkook can’t tell if ur being serious or not considering the fact that there are enough drugs in your system right now to knock out a whole sanctuary of elephants

you nod enthusiastically and squeeze his hand “ya we can call it a date if u want!!! oR it can be a super casual hang out but i juz think ur super cute n i’m not jus sayin that because i’m hopped up on druGs-“

the little wrinkle of your nose and giggle when he responds with a ‘i would love to go for ice cream with you.’ shouldN’t have made jungkook feel so giddy but-

“alright, she’s still a little loopy from the surgery but she should be fine! the gauze pad placed over the surgical area should be kept in place for about a half hour and then you can go ahead and remove it. make sure she doesn’t touch the wound because-“

“why- wYYyy are you talking like i’m not standing right here??? you can juz talk to me direCtly” you tug on jungkook’s sleeve and he glances at you

you lean against his shoulder and reach up to pat your swollen cheek tenderly

owie :-(

jungkook’s mouth twitches in a fond smile

:-))

he knows you’re not going to remember even half of what he tells you but he’ll play along

thankfully you have your friends here who are conscious and will probably remember everything he’s going to say

“riiiight, my bad. how about you stand over here, hm? right in front of me”

jimin pulls you towards him and you stumble a bit before turning around so you can face jungkook

“you may prrrroooceed.” you roll your ‘r’ before giving jungkook a little curtsey

“thank you very much, your majesty. as i was saying, don’t touch the wound because that can cause bleeding and that wouldn’t be good. take the prescribed pain medications as soon as you begin to feel discomfort - that’s probably going to happen after the effects of the anaesthetic diminish. also, placing ice packs on the side of your face might be a good idea to help with the swelling.”

“the thwell- the thwelling???” you gasp and reach up to pat your face again

o god

you probably look like a chipmunk right now

in front of juNGKOOK

even in your drugged up state you knoW that you don’t look the least bit attractive right now

“we-“ you turn to look at tae “we gotta go home cos i don’t look cute righnnow and i wan jungkook to think that i look cute-“

“okAy let’s get you home!!!” taehyung cuts you off and gives jungkook a sheepish smile

“c’mon, get up-“ jimin squats down so that he can give you a piggyback ride because he feels like it’s going to take a lot longer to get home if they let you toddle around on your own

“jimin i needa tell u i’m going out on an ithe cream date with jungkook because he’s really pretty and-“

“uh-huh, you sure are going out with jungkook! definitely!” jimin chirps as he walks out the door with you on his back

he bounces slightly to adjust you

taehyung turns back to face jungkook before starting to back up towards the glass doors “sorry about her, man-“

“byeeeee, jungkook! i love you!!!! weLL okay i don’t loVe you yet but i couLD-“

“so, we’ll see you later for y/n’s other set of wisdom teeth!” tae chuckles and looks over to see you slumPed over jimin

“yeah, i’ll see you guys later!” jungkook smiles lightly and-

“i’m totAlly gonna let him put hishands down muh pants on our date if he wants to-“

jungkook snorts

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

drabble tag

[19mrs-barnes17]

Wedding Guest

Summary: Bonus Theme Day - Wedding Date

Part: 1/1

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Warnings: little steam

Word count: 1,683

A/N: A bonus fic for theme weekend! Enjoy!

~

You had developed a habit of always checking the plus one box, just in case. Life had been a swarm of weddings as of late and you were feeling left behind. Usually you would bring some friend who was free, but this time you knew you couldn’t. This was a family filled wedding which meant that if you didn’t bring an actual date you’d be interrogated all night. And you’d rather be asked pleasant questions about a fake relationship than be scolded for wasting a chair and being alone. So, there you stood before your best friend, your eyes begging her to accept the invitation.

“What’s in it for me?” Strands of her fiery red bob were slipping from the scrunchie, her brow arched. 

“Free food and an open bar?” 

“Boy you really do know how to treat a girl. I’ll do it.” You nearly tackled her with a hug, her arms wrapping around you as you thanked her profusely. “Yeah, yeah. But you have to wear the dress if I do.”

“That old thing?” She leaned against the door frame, smirking. “Yeah, ok. Then I get to pick your dress.”

“I’m glad we could come to this arrangement. Come on in, sweetheart.” Shaking your head at her laughter you follow her to her closet and get to work.

In the passing weeks you and Nat forged a solid story, planned for any questions that might arise, and booked your flight. The plane ride was fairly standard, the two of you watching movies off your laptop. Soon enough it became time to introduce her to a family member, and of course it had to be the most guilt tripping one of them all. Your niece. She had run up to you in the airport and wrapped her arms around your legs. 

“Aunt Y/N! Is that your girlfriend?” She peeked around you at Natasha with curious little eyes, smiling when Nat squatted down and waved. 

“Hi there. My name’s Natasha but you, you can call me Nat.” Her gentle smile seemed to coax Lyla in, her small frame emerging from behind your legs. 

“I’m Lyla. I’m 6 and a half.” Your attention was torn from the adorable scene to the group approaching you. 

“Isaac!” In mere seconds you practically tackled your big brother to the ground, his wife laughing as you pulled her in. “Marie you look better. Healing okay?”

“The surgery went well and the doc says I’m recovering quickly. Enough that I might dance at least once tomorrow night.” Her daughter came running back, latching onto her leg like a leach. “You actually brought a girlfriend home?”

“I know, we’re gonna be swarmed.” Nat caught up, one hand resting on your waist and the other extended toward your family.

“You must be Isaac and Marie, right?” She turned to you feigning the guess, a soft smile dancing on her lips. “I did my best to learn names beforehand.”

“You found yourself a clever one, eh sis?” Isaac smiles shaking Nat’s hand, his eyes still cautious. Marie linked arms with Nat and led her toward the car, Nat glancing over her shoulder at you with a sweet smile. “Finally bringing someone home, she must be important.”

“She’s been my best friend for years, I trust her. And I trust that meeting you whackos won’t deter her.” Isaac smiled before tossing you over his shoulder, your screams turning into giggles. 

“You still walk too slow.” 

“We passed the entry exam. Get ready for the next level.” She shook her head at you and mumbled something along the lines of ‘I used to be a spy you know’. “I come from a family of therapists and professors. They eat bullshit for breakfast.” 

Nat sat in the middle seat of the back of the van, her fingers intertwined with yours as the hour long drive began. The ride consisted of sing-a-longs, in which only your niece participated. If you didn’t know the words to every song in Cinderella, you did now. The parking lot of the hotel was packed, you recognized 70 percent of the cars from family and friends. Nat carried both your bags and rejected all offers of assistance.

“She’s pretty independent.” Marie shook her head, a knowing smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. 

“You should have seen her when I moved in. Helped me carry every box and sent the boys to pick up lunch. You should have seen their faces.” You laugh as your thoughts go back to the day you moved into the avengers facility. She had given the guys one look and they went scurrying out the door.

“I’m glad you’ve found someone Y/N. She seems to suit your temperament very well.” Perhaps she did, but that was what had made the two of you such instant friends.

Every waking moment around your family with Nat felt suffocating, they all seemed so proud of your choice. Apart from your Aunt Dinah that is, she was a little stuck in the wrong part of history and never approved of your life choices. She was quite vocal about it and Natasha was not very happy to find this out. In fact, she seemed to up the fake romantic touches whenever your aunt was near. While it made you smile to see her so furious, it also meant a lot more touching than you had planned on. Skin to skin contact with Nat had you questioning your relationship and on a few occasions forgetting it was fake. You thought you could be stronger than all those fake couples in the movies, however, it turned out you were just as susceptible. 

The day of your younger brother’s wedding had arrived and you could not be more grateful that this charade was coming to a close. Pretending to be in love with someone really does a number on your emotions. Hours spent readying the room and double-checking that everyone was being prepped, everything was underway. Tonight you would dance with Nat a few times before saying goodnight and heading back to the hotel. Easy peasy. 

Oh, sweet jesus. Not easy peasy. In no way would her being close to you in that dress be easy peasy. You felt rather compelled to jump her right then and there, which was rather problematic. Even worse your sister-in-law saw the look you had on your face when Nat rounded the corner, it was definitely lustful. You couldn’t hide it.

“Someone’s getting lucky tonight.” Marie smirked as she nudged your arm, eyes twinkling mischievously. “You both look fantastic.” 

“Marie!” You whispered, shooting her a warning look before turning back to face Natasha. “Wow, I told you that was the dress.”

“Then was it your intention to make all the men in the room drool? If so, you’ve done splendid.” One of your cousins was staring at her with a look that you wanted to smack from his face. She moved closer, whispering so only you would hear. “If not, I can only assume it was because you wanted to see me in this dress.”

She wasn’t wrong, you had always wondered about the black gown hanging in her closet. All that she had ever said was that it was for specific missions. By this point you were beginning to gather what sort of missions she utilized its stun capability for, and you were flush in the face. My god, you had done this to yourself.

“Why choose this dress for me? And why it was your stipulation?” Nat smirked and gestured that her lips were sealed, linking her arm with yours before leading you into the elevator. 

Eyes followed the pair of you everywhere, the entire event someone was gawking at her or staring incredulously at you. The entire thing made you squirm in your skin, far too much attention was being placed on the two of you. However you took this opportunity to become even more physical, partially to send the onlookers’ gazes elsewhere and partly because you needed to know whether her flirtation was real or had limits. Your hand rested on her exposed mid-thigh, her hand soon covering it and moving it upward. Either this woman was the queen of acting or she wasn’t having to. Dancing was even more intimate, no matter the speed of the song she was close to you. Her hands roaming and eyes flirting. This was send your gay heart into a panic, you had absolutely no idea what to do with this kind of attention. 

“I need to ask you something and I need an honest answer.” Nat’s hands rested on your lower back and yours at the nape of her neck. Her eyes met yours and with a nod of her head her attention was yours. “Is this even fake anymore?”

“I was wondering when you’d finally ask.” She smirked, something hidden behind her eyes. “I’m not sure it ever was. Maybe when we arrived, but not for long.” 

“So you felt the same? This whole time?” She nodded, arching a brow at you. “When did you?” It was a vague question, but she knew the answer you were seeking. 

“New Years.” The drunk kiss, well half drunk apparently. Only you were tipsy, Nat barely buzzed when you pulled her in for the midnight kiss. It had been passed off as nothing, but it seems both of you knew it was so much more. “Care for a redo?”

“What?” 

“Kiss me while everyone is watching.” Your eyes glanced from hers to her lips, heart racing in your chest as you pulled her into a kiss. Deeper and deeper you fell into the kiss, soon breaking to move it elsewhere as the song ended. A round of goodnights and you were on your way back to the hotel, in the elevator, and behind a closed door. Nat had pushed it shut with her back and you were quick to pounce, tongue sliding in. Your body was coursing with adrenaline as things began escalating and your mind slowly turning to putty. “Seems Marie was right after all”

~

Tags: @qtmeryr​ @broken-hearted-barnes​ @asphalt-cocktail​ @gstran18​ @cantnkrusshedevil​

[izzielizzie]

Could you write a one shot in Bronwyn’s POV for directly after the bomb went off? And how she’d be when Nate gets out of surgery? Up until the events of the wedding?

Yes, more angst let’s do it. (I am in such a weird mood good grief) (Now would be a good time to request more angsty stuff since clearly I’m in the mood to write sad stuff) Also, sorry this is so long, but there are notes at the end because of course I need to make it longer. Enjoy!

Nate and I are walking hand in hand behind the restaurant when we hear something fly over our heads and land a few feet away.

“The fuck was that?” Nate asks, interrupting himself. He had been talking about just how much of a dork my little sister Maeve is around Luis, who apparently is her boyfriend now. I have no clue how that happened.

A voice rings out in the night, sounding terrified: “Nate, run! This is Maeve. That was a backpack with a bomb inside, from someone who’s been threatening Eli. You have to run toward the restaurant, now!”

We both freeze and look at each other. “MAEVE?” I call back.

“Bronwyn?”

Nate squeezes my hand and tugs me forward. A new voice can be heard, and I’m even more terrified when I hear it’s Knox. He’s never sounded so scared before.  “This isn’t a joke, you guys! Run!”

For some strange reason, it’s Knox, not Maeve, that spurs us forward, and we start sprinting. I can see Knox with his arm around Maeve from a distance, and he’s pulling her back. She has her arm outstretched towards me, and I can see the fear in her eyes. As I’m running, I’m struck with the sudden realization that if there was anything I could do make that fear in her amber eyes, the ones I love so much, disappear, I would. Maeve has grown up too fast. Finally, Maeve does what she should and turns and runs to the restaurant. I hear Knox call to the people on the deck, and they run into the restaurant.

For one crazy moment, I think we’re safe, and I look at Nate. He’s looking down at me, and I feel I could sink, float, fly in those blue eyes. When he dives at me, for one crazy second I think he’s going to kiss me.

When I come to, I can hear someone groaning next to me, and when I put my palms on the ground I’m startled to find that the ground is slick with blood. It can’t possibly be coming from me, nothing hurts other than my head. I look to my right, in the direction of the groaning, and I almost scream when I see Nate laying on his back, covered in blood. “Nate! Oh my god Nate!”

“Bronwyn,” he groans.

“Oh my God, Nate.” I can feel tears sliding down my cheeks. I crawl over to him, and I bend down to kiss him, my hands on either side of his face.

“My arm.”

I look at his arm and nearly scream again. It’s torn up pretty badly, and his leather jacket, the one he’s had for years, is beyond repair. I grip his uninjured hand and squeeze it tightly. I know, beyond a doubt, that this is my fault. If I hadn’t stopped, he wouldn’t have had to dive for me.

I push his dark hair away from his forehead. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay.” I say it over and over again, like a question, answer, and promise all in one. I don’t know how long I’m sitting here, pushing back his hair. I don’t look away until I hear my sister calling my name. I call hers back, and she comes flying towards us, her dark hair, so identical to mine, streaming behind her. She’s covered in blood and her favorite jeans are ripped at the knees. She crashes to the ground next to me. I don’t look at her. I can’t. If I wasn’t so busy making sure she was okay, then this never would have happened. We would of been okay. This thought makes me cry harder. I clasp Nate’s hand in both of mine. Maeve strokes his hair back. We sit like this for a few minutes before the EMTs arrive. The sight of them makes me cry harder and I barely register that they’re lifting Nate onto a stretcher, and I have no idea how I’m still holding his hand.

“Are you two family?” an EMT asks me.

I shake my head between the sobs. “No. His only family is his mother.” I don’t even mention his dad.

“Okay, can you answer some basic questions for me?”

I nod.

“Okay, that’s good honey. Just take some deep breaths.” I’m following the stretcher now, and Nate’s hand is still in mine. “Okay, can you give me his full name please?”

“Nathaniel Macauley.”

“Does he have a middle name?”

I glance at Nate, who’s looking at me. He shakes his head slightly. “No.”

“Okay. Date of birth?”

“March nineteenth, two thousand and one.”

“Age?”

“Nineteen.”

“Okay. Any prevalent medical history? Does he take any medications?”

I glance at Nate again. His eyes are closed. We’ve reached the back of the ambulance, and before they lift him in, I can see him shake his head. “No.”

“Okay, will you ride with him?”

“Yes.”

“Sounds good. I’m going to stay here and make sure everyone else is okay. Is anyone injured that you know of?”

I’m about to say no when I remember the blood on Maeve’s arm. “Yes. My little sister. Her name is Maeve Rojas, she’s wearing black jeans and a grey Yale hoodie. Her right arm is bleeding.”

“Okay, thank you. Please try to contact Nathaniel’s mother on the ride over, okay?”

“Okay.”

Nate’s mom beat us to the hospital. As did my parents. All three of them are standing together in the waiting room. Mrs. Macauley looks incredibly plain next to my parents, who were dressed up for their charity event. My parents pull me into a hug the minute they see me, and I’m surprised when I realize I’m shaking. My father takes off his suit jacket and wraps it around me. The smell of aftershave and peppermint surrounds me, and I’m instantly calmed. If there’s ever one thing Maeve and I agree on, it’s that safety is synonymous with our father.

A doctor approaches us. “Nathaniel's arm has shrapnel in it,” she tells us, “We have to take him in for surgery right away. If you four want to wait in his room with him while they prep him, you can.”

“Yes. Please,” my mother answers for all of us. She puts and arm around Mrs. Macauley, and I exchange startled looks with my dad. My mother has never liked Nate, or his mother. But I guess when someone might be dying, prejudices don’t matter.

I watch them walk away with the doctor as the sound of pounding feet approach, and someone charges into me wrapping me in a hug. It’s Addy. She’s crying on my shoulder, and I momentarily wonder if my father is cringing at the sight of his suit jacket being cried on. Addy pulls away, and I can see who else she’s with: Cooper, Kris, Ashton, Knox, and Eli. Panic surges through me when I can’t see Maeve. I grip Addy’s shoulders tightly.

“Addy. Maeve. Where is Maeve?”

My dad turns to me so quickly I’m worried he’ll get whiplash. “Maeve was there?”

“Yeah. We were the ones who found the bomb,” Knox says.

Oh boy. Knox clearly does not know what to say and what not to say to avoid a parental freak out. My dad stares at him, and based on the look on his face, he’s way passed freaking out. The last time he looked like that was when Maeve was diagnosed with Leukemia for the first time. He opens his mouth to say something when my mom comes running down the hall, her red curls coming out of their bun. She barrels into my dad. “Nate said Maeve-” She looks like she’s going to start crying.

“Mrs. Rojas, she’s okay,” Cooper says. We all turn to him. It’s clear we all forgot he was there, along with everyone else who just arrived. “She’s with Luis. They’re driving over right now.”

“Who?” My mother asks.

“Luis?” My dad adds, sounding like his usual overprotective self.

But I sag with relief. If Maeve is with Luis then she’ll be okay. “Maeve’s boyfriend.” Addy supplies. My parents adore Addy with all their hearts, but clearly their love is being tested right now. Don’t shoot the messenger is not a saying they live by.

“Boyfriend,” Mom says faintly.

“BOYFRIEND?” My dad echos.

“For like five minutes. He’s nice. You’ll like him.” Addy is unaffected by my parents. Good for her, but the mention of Nate makes me impatient.

“Mom, forget that. How’s Nate?”

My mom grips my arm. “He’s going into surgery in four minutes. He’s asking for you.”

“WELL THEN WHY DIDN’T YOU START WITH THAT?”

I don’t wait for a response, I just take off running in the direction my mother came from. “ROOM TEN!” She calls after me.

I barge into room ten, and I see Nate laying on a bed, there are nurses around him, and his mother is sitting on a chair. Nate reaches his hand towards mine, and I take it.

“You’ll be okay,” I tell him as a few nurses talk to each other. He doesn’t respond. He just closes his eyes, his face turned towards me. Part of me wants him to open his eyes. If is the last time I see him, I want to look into those deep blue eyes I love so much. My parents come into the room a few minutes later, right as Nate’s being taken into the operating room. My dad wraps his arms around me as my mom hugs Mrs. Macauley, who has started crying.

“He will be alright, Ellen. Don’t worry.”

“How can you know?”

“Because he’s a fighter.”

Those simple words bring tears to my eyes. Maybe my mother has finally come around to Nate. Mrs. Macauley hugs Mom harder. “How can people just sit and wait around for their kids? How can you protect them?”

Mom pulls away and looks at Mrs. Macauley. “I watched my daughter battle cancer for seven years Ellen, and every moment killed me. What type of mother am I if I can’t protect my child? But the best thing you can do is just be there. You’ve done great, Ellen.”

I’m bawling my eyes out now on Dad’s perfectly pressed shirt, but I don’t care, and neither does he. There isn’t a dry eye in the room.

Mrs. Macauley recovers first. “I should tell my husband.”

“I’ll tell him. I can drive over. You should stay here.” My dad sounds surprised that he’s offering this, but I guess tonight’s all about forgiving and changing.

Mrs. Macauley nods. “Okay.”

“You’ve got a good kid Ellen,” Mom says as Dad heads out.

“And you’ve got two.”

The waiting room is filled with nearly everyone I love, and my mother and I both make a beeline to Maeve, who’s fast asleep on Luis’s lap. Luis looks up at my mom and smiles.

“Hi, you must be Mrs. Rojas.”

“And you must be Luis.” My mother does not sound nearly as friendly as Luis. I exchange amused glances with Addy.

“What she means, Luis, is thank you for taking care of Maevey.” I say, putting my hands on my mom’s shoulders.

“No I don’t,” Mom mumbles.

“Yes you do,” Mrs. Macauley says, leading my mother to a chair. I pause only for a moment to kiss the top of Maeve’s head and thank Luis again before following them.

Three hours later, Nate’s still in surgery and the news people still keep showing up. The explosion has made headlines, and all reporters keep asking for the boy and girl who saved the day. The boy is curled up on the ground with his back against Eli’s legs, staring into space. The girl is slowly awakening though. She finally sits up after another few minutes and she seems really disoriented.

“Luis?” she asks.

“Yes Maeve?”

“Where-”

“The hospital. Don’t you remember?” Addy asks, placing her hand on Maeve’s knee. Maeve shakes herself a little and sits up straighter.

“Where’s Bronwyn?” she asks in response. Kris points behind her. Maeve turns, sees me, and practically leaps off of Luis’s lap in her haste to get to me. I stand and hug her with all my might, and I think she might be crying. I know I am. I pull away and shake her.

“Oh my God are you trying to scare us?” I practically shout, shaking her again.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Maeve says, her eyes shining with tears.

“Oh really! You stalked a potentially dangerous person, you followed him to God knows where, you crawled into a tiny space, you opened an odd looking bag, you threw a bomb in an arboretum, and then YOU RAN TOWARDS IT!”

“Don’t forget the hiding leukemia thing,” Mom adds sleepily. She and Mrs. Macauley are leaning against each other, and they’re both nearly asleep. I think that’s the weirdest part of my night.

“Oh Mom, we’re over that,” Maeve says. She seems unaffected by my words. “And anyway, no one’s told me about Nate!”

“He’s in surgery. There was shrapnel in his arm.” I say simply.

Maeve blanches. “Is he okay?” There’s real fear on her face, and I’m suddenly sorry I yelled at her. She must feel in over her head right now.

“He should be. There’s no nerve damage, which is good.”

“Oh thank God,” says Maeve right as a nurse walks towards us. Everyone in the room turns to look at her.

“Mrs. Macauley?” she asks.

Mrs. Macauley half stands. “Yes?”

“Your son is out of surgery. He’s stable, and family is allowed to visit, however, I must warn you that he’s a little goofy with the pain medicine.”

Everyone in the room lets out a collective sigh of relief as Mrs. Macauley follows the nurse. I turn back to Maeve, and she’s grinning at me.

“Coffee,” we both say unanimously, and for some reason, we’re laughing so hard we can hardly breathe. There’s something so wonderful, I think, about laughing with someone you love so much when everything is falling apart around you.

Nate is released the next morning, and his mom and I are there to drive him home.

“Is the wedding still on?” is the first thing he asks when he sees us. He hugs his mom awkwardly with one arm. The sight of the sling around his shoulder would make me cry if I wasn’t fresh out of tears. Maeve had told me all about the texting game last night, and watching my sister break down had killed me. After she told me, she locked herself in her room and was on the phone with someone until three in the morning. I think it was Luis. I hope it was, my sister deserves a guy like Luis. Even if he does have a questionable dating history, but Nate told me yesterday that he was planning on having a little chat with Luis about that on Maevey’s behalf.

“Yes, but if you’re too tired, you don’t have to go,” Mrs. Macauley says as she unlocks her car and helps Nate into the front seat. I climb into the back.

“No, I want to go,” Nate insists.

Mrs. Macauley glances at me in the rear view mirror, and I shrug. “Okay Nate. Sure. I need to check in on your father, so I’m not sure who’s going to help you change out of that shirt.” That shirt is the same one from last night. It’s covered in blood.

“I will,” I say. “I’ve already gotten dressed. And Dad’s going to pick up Luis on the way there, he’s Maeve’s date. I’ll just call him and ask him to pick us up too.” My parents had a real conversation with Luis last night while Addy, Kris, Cooper, Maeve, and I went to get coffee. Turns out they love him as much as Maeve does, which is good. But I can’t help feeling a little annoyed that it took five minutes for my parents to fall in love with Luis, and five months for my parents to even acknowledge Nate.

“Well, if that’s alright with you Nate.”

“Of course it is, Mom.”

“Bronwyn I can not get a button down on with this sling. I can’t even get a regular shirt on.”

I’m in Nate’s room, looking through his closet. My parents will be here in ten minutes or so. “Okay, okay. What about this?” I pull a pale green shirt out of the closet.

“Fine.”

I turn and let Nate change, but turn again when he mutters, “stuck”. I laugh and help him de-tangle himself, but somehow I manage to make it worse.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I say, and then suddenly I’m crying again. Through the tears, I manage to fix his shirt, and he grabs me by the waist and pulls me into his lap. He doesn’t say anything as I sob onto his shoulder and grip his shirt like a lifeline. His good arm is strong around my back.

“Shh, Bronwyn, it’s okay. I’m okay.”

“I know, but I was just so scared.”

“I know, honey.” He kisses the top of my head, and for some silly reason, I think of Luis and Maeve. “And worst of all, I blamed Maeve.”

“I know you did.”

I pull back and look at him.

“You did?”

“I did. I mean, I guessed that you blamed her. You wouldn’t look at her last night.”

“If I hadn’t stopped then-”

Nate puts a finger on my lips. “I am okay. As is Maeve. And you’re okay too. That is all that matters, okay? All that matters is everyone is safe and it’s a beautiful day and two people we love very much are getting married. Okay?”

“Okay.” I pause and laugh. “Nate, your shirt is soaked. Want a new one?”

“Bronwyn Rojas, I am not changing my shirt again,” Nate says with mock severity. We both start giggling, and we still are when Dad’s car pulls up and we drive to the wedding.

Okay, time for some notes!

I have no idea when Nate’s birthday really is, but the month was mentioned in the first book. I did some math (ew) to figure out the year, and I chose a random date.

The whole Bronwyn/Maeve tension was made up as well, but it kind of felt right? understandable? for Bronwyn to be so worried about her sister that she gets a little angry.

There was no mention of Mrs. Rojas and Mrs. Macauley supporting each other, but I just couldn’t resist

Also, there was no Rojas Parents/Luis interaction before the wedding, but as mentioned in the previous note, I just couldn’t resist.

Okay, I think that’s it, I hope you liked it!