#I need to tag things properly in this blog to update my masterlist forgotten in the abyss so finding it by cirice will be easier

[polarisbibliotheque]

Can You Hear The Rumble? - Vergil x Reader

Music Inspired Fics (Devil May Music) - Cirice, by Ghost

Pairing: Vergil x Reader

Summary: Everyone knew the kind of demon a hunter should be wary about is the one who plays with their victim's minds. You and Vergil were very proud on the outside - but how would it be when having to save each other on the inside for the first time?

TRIGGER WARNING: A lot of blood, cuts, bruises, scars and suffering on both Vergil and the reader's sides. The reader also struggles with perfection and self-loathing - in a "I'm never going to be a good person" kind of way, because I needed to get more intimate on the reader's part as well - and there are scenes with the reader covered in cuts and bleeding, though not self-imposed, it could be read like that. Those scenes are the reader's and Vergil's internal images of themselves. Reader and Vergil meet each other on their imperfections and the darkest parts of their souls, so BE WARNED. This might not be everyone's cup of tea and there are lots of potential triggers.

Author's Note: @tokkis-shelf asked me if Vergil's part of the Halloween special was inspired by Cirice, and here we are now. It is what kickstarted the song-fic requests! As with a lot of people, I think, Cirice is pretty personal to me.

In the video, it was so comforting to me seeing the black sheep being represented hahahaha and I guess that's why people love it so much. The part where they hold hands? I died, I'd never let go, I cry my soul out upon watching. (I did a very similar drawing to that scene when I was in school around 15 years ago, so it drop-kicked me out of my body xD)

Now, when writing this, I kept in mind that this song has a double meaning and can be quite comforting and quite manipulative at the same time - hence why I use the "can't you see that you're lost without me?" in two different situations, 'cause I think Cirice can be interpreted in so many ways and each person takes what they need from this song. I hope you guys like it!!

Plus, the song the reader and Dante sing at the end is The Power of Love, by Huey Lewis and The News

Cirice, by Ghost

“Can’t you see that you’re lost…?”

It happened every time Vergil walked in the darkness.

That voice in the back of his head, silently taunting him, the hiss of a quiet viper in the hopes of taking him back to the darkest parts of his soul. Quiet, lurking, whispering… Mundus always there, somewhere in the folds of his consciousness, guiding him back into the void – luring Vergil back into his shackles.

“Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

As if Vergil couldn’t belong anywhere else, as if his place was in Hell. After all he had been through, after all the sins he perpetrated, he believed wholeheartedly there was no hope for him at all – only a fool’s hope; only a glimmer of a wish he wasn’t as tainted as he was… A desire to not be such a monster as he was.

Pacing quietly through the empty cathedral, Vergil had already learned not to give in to those thoughts – to keep them at bay, as only a whisper in the darkness, of trickster voices that would always remind him of how inhuman he was.

It was times like this Vergil longed for the faint glimmer of the moon, or the warm ghostly light of a candle. It was easy to get lost in the dark, but a single ray of light could help through the direst of situations. That night, though, it seemed like the moon had fallen asleep behind the curtains of the clouds – Selene hiding her tears for her earthly lover in his eternal sleep.

None of you knew what that night entailed – you weren’t even certain what you were dealing with. That was the reason why Lady strutted in the Devil May Cry, not too fond of taking a job she didn’t know if it was up to her abilities.

“Well, looks like I have a new one for you to pay your debt, big guy!” Her singsong voice interrupted the ambience of the jukebox; Lady entering the shop with Kalina Ann and all.

“Eh, I’m never gonna be free of my debt, Lady, let’s be honest.” Dante sighed, putting his feet down and throwing his magazine across the table, shooting her a serious glare. “But things have been borin’ lately, so one of your odd jobs’ not gonna hurt. Whaddya have for me?”

“You talk as if I never help you enough to maintain this place.” She lifted one eyebrow, approaching the big desk at the middle of the shop.

“Gotta give the woman credit, Dante. Last month’s bills were on her.” You shrugged as you had finally come out of your shower, happy to see Lady around, still drying your hair with the towel as you went down the stairs.

“See? Someone who has a bit of common sense.” Her smile was nothing short of devilish as she gestured towards you.

“You know where you are, Lady. ‘Common sense’ isn’t much of a thing in this household.” You greeted her by quickly blowing her a kiss while passing by, making your way towards the couch where Vergil was quietly reading.

“Ey, you’re hurtin’ my feelings like that.” Dante put one of his hands over his heart, laughing alongside you as you kept on your way. “But fine. I’ll give ya that, Lady. So, what’s up? What job do you wanna throw at me this time?”

“I am not throwing it at you.” And there it was: you could always see when Dante stroke a nerve when Lady got defensive and with that fiery stare on her multicolored eyes. “If you wanna do it, great, if you don’t, I can deal with it myself just fine. I’m here to be a good friend since you can barely afford all that pizza you keep stuffing yourself with!”

As you sat by Vergil’s side, you both exchanged a telling glare. Just like you, Vergil was used to observing people. Granted, he didn’t know Lady as much as Dante or even you, but he did know her since he was very young. That fiery, easy-to-anger personality had been there since they first met at the Temen-ni-gru – and Vergil argued it was one of Lady’s traits that would never change.

Something he was quite pleased with, if he had to be honest with himself. It was a good trait for a human demon hunter like her. Dante always praised human’s hearts and particularly their love and empathy – Vergil praised their burning anger that made them unconquerable in the direst of circumstances.

“Jeez, alright, alright, don’t shoot me!” Dante raised his hands as if he was at gunpoint, making you wheeze quietly. Vergil side-eyed you for a while – half judging, half holding his own laugh. “It’s not like I have much of a choice, do I?”

“Humpf.” Lady rolled her eyes and took a slice of pizza from the box resting on the desk, pointing at Dante with it right after. “You know I wouldn’t bring you something if it wasn’t important.”

“Actually, you would.” With those words, Dante rested his arms crossed on the table – all the while, you and Vergil watched it all as if it was a show. Who needed a TV when you had those two? “But you’re bein’ too dodgy ‘bout it, babe. What’s goin’ on?”

“I got a call from a priest in a city nearby.” Lady’s answer was uncharacteristically quiet, followed by a bite from the pizza while she seemed pensive and in any hurry to chew it. “I’ve done some jobs there, know the guy, he’s nice. All the times he called me, it was always a quick, good-paying job. He said some weird things have been happening at the cathedral for the last couple of weeks.”

“Not to sound mean, but there’s always somethin’ strange happenin’ at churches.” Dante’s eyes carried a bit of skepticism: ‘weird things’ didn’t always entail a job for the Devil May Cry – and it usually ended with all of you hunting a rogue raccoon or something.

“I know. But this guy, he doesn’t get scared easy, ok? He’s one of those types of priests who’ll try to shoot down a couple of demons with a shotgun and, if that doesn’t work, he gives me a call.” Those words, though, made you and the Spardas raise your eyebrows. Indeed, it was a rare type of priest, but a good one to keep as acquaintance. “He said the cathedral is increasingly quiet, even from noises outside, with occasional distant noises that are not done by any of those who live there. After it all started, the other priests reported having weird nightmares, of being chased by something in the dark, inside the cathedral – this thing whispering things they can’t understand. Alright if it happened to one or two, but soon all of them started waking up in the middle of the night with similar nightmares – and, catch this, the higher ups of the clergy didn’t tell the common priests about it, but they all reported the very same dream.” Those words caught everyone’s attention. Vergil finally closed his book and leaned forward, paying attention to Lady’s retelling of the priest’s misfortunes. “The priest has been trying to figure out what’s going on, but some old books appear to go missing from the library, only to re-appear as if nothing has happened. Some books are missing pages, something that never happened before. He also said the inside of the cathedral has been getting darker and darker as the weeks go by. As if something is approaching – his words, not mine.”

Vergil immediately furrowed his brows and seemed to turn into an ice sculpture right by your side. You risked a glance, finding him with his usual dark aura – pensive, somber and quiet; hunter’s eyes showing themselves in a matter of seconds.

“Rare are the creatures in Hell in search for knowledge…” He muttered loud enough for his brother and Lady to turn their attention to him. “But those who do, are usually among the worst. Haunting noises, torn books, nightmares, dead silence and total darkness…”

“What? You think those Hell Piranhas came out of their pit?” Dante’s question had a bit of fun in the words, but his eyes were serious and he didn’t allow his lips to smile.

“Could be. Could also be a demon trying to mimic them to hide something else.”

“Hell Piranhas?” You and Lady didn’t need a cue to ask at the very same time. Neither of you had ever heard of that – and both of you had heard of a lot.

“This is not their name, but it is how Dante calls them since we were kids.” Vergil almost sighed in response.

“How we both called ‘em. Mister smart-pants over here isn’t that much better than lil’ ol’ me.” Dante winked at both of you, making you giggle quietly in return. “They’re kinda like illusion demons, but they like stayin’ in the darkness and gatherin’ knowledge. Usually work for someone bigger, though.”

“And even if they don’t, they swallow up all their knowledge and that is dangerous in itself. Afterwards, they feed from the victims they have been toying for so long.” Vergil continued Dante’s thought, ignoring his brother’s previous words. The more you didn’t think about what Dante had said about him, the better – for Vergil couldn’t deny it. “They hunt in packs, and the more victims, the more powerful they become. Some call them the Pit Deceivers, others call them the Lie Weavers…”

“You call them Hell Piranhas.” You concluded bluntly, making Vergil stare at the horizon with emptiness in his eyes – he could say all he wanted, flex all his demonic knowledge, you heard the Piranhas and now you’d never forget it.

“I never heard of them.” Lady had her eyebrows furrowed, searching her memory for some story like that.

“They either don’t leave the pit that much or not many humans survive to tell the story. That’s why.” Dante pointed at a great, old book Vergil had left on one of the tables a long time ago and now it was its official resting place. “You can find it only in the likes of the Codex Daemonica.”

“So either we have them around, or it’s something else. Something bigger. Right?” As you asked, Vergil only agreed with his head as the attentions turned to you. “Or something mimicking the Piranhas.” And Vergil had to sigh at your addition. He would never have peace again. “The mimic or the master, what kind of demon would the Piranhas answer to? If they are that obscure, I take it their existence is more of a niche knowledge in Hell rather than a common information.”

“On that, you are correct…” Vergil murmured in response, falling back into his pensive demeanor. You knew he would be lost for a while.

“See? Good thing I brought this for you, then.” Lady waved dismissively at Dante, but you could sense a little edge in her playful voice. Dealing with big things was fine, same as dealing with cruel demons and the ones that played the big-scary-one persona. Unknown demons were another kind of monster – one only Dante and Vergil used to deal with. “Plus, they always pay well.”

“Eh, I won’t be seein’ much of that money, if I know ya well.” Dante scoffed, having a small smile hidden in the corner of his lips; his tone and demeanor, though, were quite somber and you knew the red devil was taking it seriously.

“If you don’t mind, Dante, I would like to take over this one.” Vergil finally declared while getting up from the couch. “I know some of the hellish creatures who might make use of the Weavers or mimic them.”

“Fine for me, I’m needin’ some time to rest.” Dante sighed, but looked right back at you while Vergil rested his book on the big Devil May Cry desk. “But I’m gonna feel a lot better with someone around to keep an eye on ‘im, pretty thing.”

“Well, I didn’t intend on letting you guys deal with this all by yourselves anyway.” You got up from the couch, immediately receiving a glare from Vergil. “I’m going, blue devil, whether you want it or not. I want to get acquainted with these Piranhas.”

Vergil only closed his eyes, letting out the longest and most regretful sigh you ever heard in your life.

And there you were – although Vergil lost track of you quite a while ago. He knew the stirrings rippling through his heart when you were in danger; and being the fierce human you were, Vergil wasn’t worried about having you search for the demons in the cathedral.

There was, though, a slight uneasiness. That voice echoing in the darkest parts of his soul, it always came as an omen – causing nothing but destruction, inside or outside of himself. Vergil never could really say which one would be, but both were devastating.

“Veeeeergil…”

His steps came to a dry halt in the middle of the cathedral. The night outside the colorful stained-glass windows was pitch black, robbing the colors of their warmth and light – the fire on the candles, long dead in that cold night. The whisper that crept to his ears, like stark chalk on a chalkboard, dragged itself through the marble floor and took a hold of his soul in its clutches.

It was a different kind of sound – different from the ones inside himself, calling him to the darkness. It was from the outside… The Lie Weavers. Slowly coming up, finding him as their next victim. He was close to one of the places they were certainly lurking in the shadows, patiently waiting for someone they could consume.

Vergil never feared the darkness. Tightening his grip around Yamato, his steps resumed his way, approaching the places in the cathedral the faint light of the night could barely touch. Those demons should have known their end was near, and he was the harbinger of their demise – he expected all kinds of trickery, of resistance, of fight from them.

He did not expect to hear a familiar voice, filled with uncertainty.

“Vergil…?”

Halting his steps once more, this time his silvery eyes lost their predatorial gaze as his heart jumped in his chest – even if for a slight second.

“Mother?”

His answer was but a whisper before he was swallowed by darkness.

*

When engaging with illusion demons, one should be aware of not falling into their element: when engulfed by it, those demons were more powerful than expected, able to subdue even the strongest of foes. Breaking from their control required mental and emotional discipline rather than brute force.

It was a slight second – a foolish slip from his human soul, disarmed by the trickery of Eva’s voice – and Vergil was surrounded by a sea of darkness and turmoil. His heart stirred with anger towards himself for being such a child, a vulnerable stupid child, tricked by a puppet of something his heart missed so much.

Eva was long dead. There was no demon able to bring her back. And he would never see her again. All that logic was tossed aside in a spark of a second by his stupid human heart, trembling upon hearing her speak his name again. Granted, Vergil only heard his mother in his dreams, barely remembering how her voice sounded in reality, and this time he heard outside himself – but he should have seen it coming. Illusion demons, trickster demons, cruel demons… They all relied on the barely closed scars inside his damned human soul.

Vergil could always count on them to re-open those wounds, making him bleed as much as he did on the floor of that cursed cemetery so many years ago – and he was a fool to fall for it after he had been through so much.

“Vergil… Can you hear me…?”

“I can, you damned deceiver. You can stop these theatrics – mimicking my dead mother will not affect me.” His voice cut through the dark like the sharpest of ice, his predatorial gaze back into his silver eyes.

“I… Don’t understand you, son. I cannot find you.” Her voice had a tinge of sorrow and desperation – but it was exactly like Eva’s voice. Vergil remembered it with a tinge of gold, probably a result of the haze of nostalgia, but today it was grounded and melancholic – perhaps, that was how Eva had always sounded… He just didn’t remember it. “I can’t find you. You aren’t home.”

“I haven’t been home for a long while.” Vergil didn’t even try to hide the growl that raised from his chest as he argued with that creature. He was used to having a puppet of his mother parading in front of him to hurt his human soul even more, but that was already getting on his nerves. Taunting him about the fact his mother ran to find him that fateful night wasn’t part of the usual games those filthy demons played – and to say they were honing his wrath was an understatement. “And I will never be back.”

“I… I cannot see you, Vergil. Where are you…? Why…?” He could hear the weeping in her voice, faint sobbing while the desperation made her words tremble. Vergil raised his head in the darkness, holding his own heart not to quiver: she wasn’t real and it was all a gimmick to affect him. He would not be affected. He was stronger than that. “Why couldn’t I save you? Those demons they… They hurt you, didn’t they? Oh, my child! My son! They hurt you and I could do nothing! I couldn’t be your mother!”

“Enough with this, filthy, hellish creature!” His voice finally exploded from his chest, roaring in the dark and echoing through the void, finding only silence. “You have no right to desecrate my mother’s memory like this! Shut your putrid mouth and stop with your rancid lies!”

The glint of the Yamato being unsheathed made the darkness recoil for a split second, only to envelop the Dark Slayer once more. His grip was tight, his eyes fiercely looking for his first opponent to direct a very well-placed judgement cut that could end all those creatures with just one swing of his hand. Vergil had enough and all the patience he carried in his being wouldn’t be enough to stop him from overkilling those demons – he just had to know where to direct his wrath.

“Don’t say those words, Vergil… You are not… Not like this.” Her voice still trembled, and his hand was still certain around Yamato. Vergil knew quite well at that state he was a weapon of mass destruction, he just had to find his opponent. His soul was screaming for him to do that, to put a stop to all that mockery. “You are good… You are my son.”

Vergil would have sliced that demon into a thousand million pieces without flinching, even if it took the form of his mother – but his eyes widened as a soft, warm hand touched his face. In all those years being taunted by demons, being tricked and mocked, seeing so many puppets of Eva, Sparda and Dante, none of them had touched him… And none of them genuinely felt like them.

It had been so many lost years he hadn’t felt his mother’s touch – last time, she could cup his entire face, thumb lovingly caressing his innocent eyebrows, but now her thumb could only reach his cheekbones. Nevertheless, it felt like her: not like a golden, nostalgic lost memory of how she felt, but exactly like Eva’s hands, even with the slight roughness of her continuous gardening.

“It took me so long to find you… I am so sorry.”

“You are not my mother.”

“Don’t say that.” Her answer was a sorrowful whisper, her thumb now carefully caressing his sharp cheekbone. Vergil closed his eyes, unable to move, convincing himself all of that wasn’t real and not allowing his heart to sway – forcing his arms to remain frozen by his side, fighting the urge to embrace her. Reminding himself: his mother was dead, killed while trying to save him, a long time ago, and nothing could bring her back. “Your heart hasn’t hardened as much as not to recognize me. You…” Her voice once more became soft, as if trying to do the same with his soul. “You are not a monster… You are my son, my Vergil.”

With those words, Eva’s hand was finally met with a tear – melting the ice from those silvery eyes.

*

There was an impending storm rumbling inside your chest.

Whenever that turmoil took ahold of your heart, you knew Vergil was in trouble. You had just finished checking your side of the cathedral, finding some things out of the ordinary but no demons, when the waves became aggressive in your chest. Your steps were already taking you to meet him, but you found yourself walking even hastier – the sound, though, eaten by the shadows that seemed to only grow around you.

Neither of you had calm seas of feelings: they usually raged like a maelstrom of emotions you could barely get through without some destruction – be it internal or external. But there was a certain note of melancholy and desperation in your heart at that moment that made you know Vergil was hurting – and that hurting, you knew quite well.

It was almost ironic how you apparently despised each other at the beginning, but after a while you came to understand; that aversion was there because you, in a certain way, were a mirror of each other. You could see in him the traits in your soul you disliked the most, and Vergil did see in you the same thing – those traits, however, were the same ones that brought you together, and made both you and Vergil feel seen and understood for the first time in your lives.

He didn’t judge your sins, as you didn’t judge his. To your eyes, he was never a monster, and to his, you could never be as crooked as you thought you were. You found each other in imperfection and, in that, you managed to talk and feel on the same level – after that, every feeling of admiration, care and love was easy to blossom.

You understood that storm, that thunder rumbling inside your chest at that very moment. You could feel it exactly the way he felt – and you knew Vergil needed help… Even if he would never say so himself.

You couldn’t hear or see him, though. You found yourself exactly at his area of patrol in the cathedral, but there was no clue as where your blue devil had gone – and for him to completely disappear, imposing presence and all, was quite an achievement in itself. The air was stiff, heavy as if the windows had never been opened, eating up any sound from the inside and the outside. The darkness was heavier than the one you had previously patrolled, shadows allowing only a few glimpses of the opulent decoration and the path in front of you – although, you couldn’t see more than a few meters beyond your feet.

If you couldn’t trust your sight or your hearing to find him, you could trust your heart: the storm would guide you. Closing your eyes, you allowed your feelings to take over, following with your footsteps in the direction you could hear his soul calling.

Those shadow creatures wouldn’t be able to hide him from you: no matter what happened or where you found yourselves, you would always be able to feel Vergil’s presence and find him in the darkest of hours.

And as the thunder in your chest cracked violently, your feet came to a halt and you opened your eyes.

Right in front of you, there was only darkness. Not like in the shadows that took the cathedral little by little, but pitch-black darkness, that no light could cast aside. To enter it would mean to be completely bare: vulnerable, lost, without guidance, naked – but the screaming in your soul made it very clear Vergil was in there.

Contrary to your lover, you were afraid of the dark. You always preferred to have a little light by your side, for you never knew what could be lurking alongside you, ready to pounce and drag you to certain suffering and death. You protected yourself by being forever vigilant, as you always did – a trait that exhausted you, yes, but luckily, in the last few years, you had Vergil around to keep a light by you when your body started giving out.

For that reason, you would never fear entering the darkness for him.

And with a deep breath, your bold steps took you inside the dark.

*

Your feet were cold, bare, stumbling over a sticky floor. Even if your eyes could see only darkness, you felt the freezing air of that night slicing your skin: you were shirtless and something was hurting… Oozing. The cold wind mixed with a faint warmness that leaked from the open wounds on your skin.

Blood. You were bleeding.

Your arms immediately wrapped around you – those scars, they were showing. They never showed before.

Running your hands quickly over your body, you could feel the warm blood slipping through your fingers; some wounds barely holding themselves closed while others still poured as in the day they were created.

That was the version of yourself you used to fiercely hide. None of those wounds were physical, none of them could be seen… But whenever you looked in the mirror, you saw them there, under your skin, under your soul, quietly resting until you couldn’t hide them anymore.

“You are lost…”

It was always the same voice, of something dark, something inside you that could break your soul if you didn’t shove it back into the darkness like you always did. That was why you were afraid; that was why Vergil always kept a faint glow by your side whenever you couldn’t hold yourself together. The dark was dangerous to you – to both of you.

“You are lost without me…”

“I can survive quite well without you…!” You growled to the darkness, keeping that part of yourself at bay. The part that gave in to the pain, that bathed in the blood and didn’t want to get up… And the part that would bathe and rise in rage, making you survive at great cost to those around you.

You were past that. And you didn’t need that to survive. You didn’t have to survive, you could live.

“Can’t you see that you’re lost…?”

“Vergil!” Your scream was a roar in the dark, looking for the one you plunged into the darkness to find. You wouldn’t give in to the trickery of those Piranhas – and you would get Vergil out of there.

They would learn they shouldn’t fear only the son of Sparda: they should also fear you.

“You think you can find him…?” After the mischievous ethereal voice questioned, you heard a giggle rippling around your feet as you stumbled on the sticky floor to find your lover. “You think you are that good? You think you aren’t a monster?”

You furrowed your brows, doing your best to ignore the voices. You knew it was that part inside of you that always taunted how broken you were, how imperfect your soul was. For the longest time you believed there was nothing good in you, nothing to save you from a life of loneliness, until you crossed paths with Vergil.

He was broken too – and he would never judge the things you did to survive your lethal wounds.

“Vergil! Can you hear me?! I’m here to find you!”

“How chivalrous, how heroic! What are you trying to accomplish?” The giggles pooled around your feet, threatening to drag you inside that pool of viscous darkness. “Trying to prove yourself? You’re never going to be perfect. You’re a black sheep, an outcast, remember? The likes of you aren’t heroes.”

“Oh, I’m no hero…” You growled back, fighting against the things trying to pull you back; fighting against the pain of the freezing cold and warmness of blood. “I’m a fucking fighter. You’re messing with the wrong kind of monster, fucking Hell Piranhas.”

“Piranhas…?” A faint whisper in the dark broke whatever control those things were trying to have over your body, starting at your feet. It was Vergil’s whisper – followed by a louder speaking tone. “Y/n! I can feel you, where are you?!”

“Trying to find you!” You screamed back, immediately dragging your feet towards Vergil. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel where he was – and there was nothing those demons could do against that.

The darkness seemed to shift for a couple of seconds. You couldn’t understand what was happening, but you saw a faint, ghostly pale glow in the dark – almost imperceptible, but your heart knew, you could finally see Vergil.

And, in return, he could see you. Moving his feet, Vergil dragged heavy shackles through the floor, screeching in a horrid, soul scratching sound as he willed his body to move towards you. You could hear him grunting with the effort, another set of chains being dragged as Vergil moved his arms – slowly, but surely, wearing all of his strength to get to you.

You felt the viscous ripples of the floor creeping up your legs, almost on your knees, doing their best to pull you away – back into the darkness, back to the taunting voices, to the doubt, the hurt, the self-loathing.

“Vergil! Let me hear your voice! You’re still there, right?!”

“Yes. I am always here.” His answer came with grunts of effort, barely above the noise of the chains screeching around him.

The darkness shifted again, and his form became even more visible, as yours did to him – followed by a scream that rumbled in his chest, Vergil managed to get even closer. That made something spark inside yourself, that thundering storm breaking in your soul cracking in a scream that broke the insidious tentacles holding you back and making you lunge forward.

Once again, the glow you diffused only to each other seemed to get stronger as the darkness wavered.

“Y/n…” He growled once more, the shackles screaming on the floor as he reached out to you.

“Vergil…!” You reached out in return, barely making out the form of his fingers in the dark.

As you were almost touching each other’s hands, the heavy, muffling darkness faltered once more. You could finally see one another, as you were in that godforsaken place.

Vergil was shirtless, his body covered in wounds – new and old – bleeding profusely. His silvery eyes were red, sunken in deep shadow, surrounded by a deep purple mist on his dry skin. You could see his bones under his pale skin covered in so many lacerations you wouldn’t even know where to start healing him. His knuckles were battered, showing the flesh underneath, as well as his wrists covered by heavy iron shackles – wounds from fighting against them for so long. His hands were still long and elegant, but bony and covered in bruises.

You had never seen Vergil so hurt, so broken, so… Vulnerable.

In return, his eyes took in shock the vision of you: as shirtless as him, as battered and wounded as he was. Even if not locked in the shackles he wore for so long in Hell, you walked barefoot leaving a trail of blood behind you. Those scars, those wounds, those bruises… He knew they were there, but he had never seen those. You looked weak and tired, bloodshot eyes under dry skin, as if you hadn’t slept in ages… And those things you fought so much to conceal, now crystal clear in front of him.

Those were the scars you carried inside yourselves. The wounds you had to fight against every day – that you had to try to heal, even if sometimes it seemed impossible. The things you would never show, but, somehow, you managed to sense it in each other… Now you could see it, clear as a bright night.

And, even if you wouldn’t admit to yourselves, those were the very same breaking thunders that would keep you moving – fiercely fighting, fiercely surviving.

As you took in each other’s internal selves, Vergil’s silvery eyes finally found yours.

A loud thundering noise shook the floor underneath your feet twice, as your hearts rumbled alongside the devastating sound. You lunged forward, holding Vergil’s hand as if your life depended on it. Never breaking your eye contact, Vergil held your hand with the strength you would expect of the legendary Dark Slayer. You made each other stronger, and there was nothing that could come between you now.

His shackles immediately screeched back, pulling Vergil violently away from you. At the same time, you were grabbed by the viscous darkness – your knees, your legs, your abdomen, your arms. It pulled you back with vicious strength, doing its best to drag you away from him – back into the darkness.

“Don’t let me go!” You screamed back, tightening your grip around his bony hand.

“I will never let go!” He growled, doing the same, trying to drag his body forward – failing to notice you willed yourself towards him as he pulled you into his arms. Those silvery eyes never moved away from yours.

“You are lost…! Lost…!”

The voices chanted and screeched around you, doing their best to drag you apart. For a moment, your hand slipped and you let out a desperate scream, hurting your lungs as you were almost pulled back into the void. Vergil’s cry resembled a roar as he willed his body to move and tightened his grip in a way he didn’t hold even Yamato.

He hadn’t held his brother’s hand once. This time he wouldn’t make the same mistake. This time, he would hold you even if that damned the both of you to the darkest pits of Hell.

“Can’t you see…? Can’t you see that…?”

“I am lost…!” You barked back to the voices, still staring into Vergil’s eyes, trying to catch your breath while your lungs stung as if you were inhaling a thousand knives.

As Vergil looked into your eyes, though, he knew exactly what you were going to say – and he could safely say it was the very same thing he struggled to find the words to.

“Without you.” His answer came in a dark tone, ragged from the effort he too made to be able to hold your hand.

The thunder rumbled twice again – the voices shrieked and you suddenly found yourselves being launched into each other’s arms as the forces that bind you broke into a million pieces.

Vergil’s arms wrapped around you, one of his hands holding your head close to his chest, as you wrapped yours around his waist, keeping him as close as you could. His head rested on top of yours, and you kept your eyes closed – washing away the blood above his heart with the tears that streamed down your face.

“Don’t ever hide from me.” Vergil’s voice was uncharacteristically shaky, somber but reassuring. You had never been so vulnerable in front of him – and even upon seeing you like that, his reaction was to take you in his arms, to welcome you. “I’m not afraid of the dark.”

“And I’m not afraid of your darkness.” You tightened your arms around his cold, bony body as you felt tears running through your hair. “I can see beyond your glimmer, and I’m not afraid of what’s in the dark.” Your voice shook as you took a deep breath and Vergil’s arms held you even closer – his body shaking with the tears falling from his eyes. “It’s you. And I’m never afraid of you.”

“Neither am I of you.”

His answer was but a whisper – a whisper enough to break the darkness into a memory to be kept away in the deepest pits of Hell.

I can feel the thunder that’s breaking in your heart I can see through the scars inside you

*

*

*

*

“You killed the Piranhas from Hell with the power of love?”

Vergil wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. Or die. Or both.

Probably both.

The whole crew was there as you and Vergil never came back from the job as quickly as expected – and when you did, it looked like you hadn’t slept in days.

The priest was more than happy with the result of your work – even though you never discovered why the Weavers decided to come out of hiding nor what they wanted. The congregation was just happy they were gone and the whole reason behind it would be a long-term thing for the Devil May Cry to work on – or to keep an eye on; maybe something bigger was approaching.

You and Vergil didn’t feel like going back to the shop, though. When you were hurt physically, things were very much ok to deal with, but when the wounds were emotional… You needed time for yourselves.

Unlike his brother, Vergil was a little more responsible with his money – and you, a lot more than the two. You managed to find somewhere to spend a few nights… Which involved the both of you talking out everything you felt and saw. It was harrowing at first, something neither of you were versed in and honestly were terrified of, but it eventually brought you even closer together.

So, to say you had defeated the Lie Weavers with the power of love was something that killed Vergil inside.

And you could almost see his internal self, glaring at you with a ‘really, after all of this you say this kind of foolishness’ look in his sad, silvery eyes, as Lady stared at both of you and made the question everyone was thinking.

“Yep. Power of love, it’s a curious thing.” You shrugged, making Vergil physically groan by your side while Dante slapped his table with a huge grin on his face.

“Make a one man weep, make another man sing! Hell yeah, Back To The Future, babe!” He winked back at you as you smiled in response.

“Of all the people you could end up dating, Vergil…” Trish sat on Dante’s desk, crossing her long legs while sporting a devilish smile on her rosy lips. It was interesting how her voice could never really sound like Eva’s. “It had to be someone who references the same songs as your brother.”

“Alas, fate plays many games…” Vergil rolled his eyes, but as they rested on you, there was a vulnerability you saw only once in that pitch black darkness. “But it is kind enough to give us what we need.”

No one ever really understood what he meant, but Dante was the only one who managed to see something inside his brother’s silvery eyes that could only reflect in yours – and that made him genuinely smile.

Indeed, you would never be the romance of a fairy tale book or a romantic comedy – but you could see what lied beyond each other’s scars; taking a glimpse at the worst of each other without fear and finding whatever light was left inside. You could understand – and that was much more than most lovers in the world would ever have.

[commander-rahrah]

RESIDENCY: SECOND CHANCES (AN OPEN HEART FIC): PART THREE

Pairing: MC (Jordynne Holland) X Ethan Ramsey X Bryce Lahela; MC X Bryce; MC X Ethan. Please note that both pairings are present in this fan fiction — off & on, at the same times, and the relationships do ebb & flow. Please keep this in mind. Thank you.

Masterlist: Click Here

Chapter Rating: T

Word Count: 5400+

Description: Ethan returns home from the Amazon thinking he is ready to face reality. Jordynne, Ethan and Bryce are all present in this chapter.

Disclaimer: Characters, storyline, and parts of the dialogue are taken from Pixelberry’s Choices. They fully own the characters, dialogue, backgrounds, etc. MC Jordynne’s background is my own creation, based loosely off of MC in-game’s personality and provided with more details.

Author’s Note: Well this took much longer than anticipated! Thank you to everyone for being patient, and reaching out about Residency! It means a lot to know people are still reading it, and are waiting for updates! I am nervous + excited for Chapter 10 to finally come out next Saturday! How are you feeling about it? 

As always any likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated. If you would like to be added/removed from the tag list please just let me know!

Taglist: @drakewalkerfantasy @owleyes374 @lahelable @mayar-mahdy @paisleylovergirl @nicquix @emilymay100 @octobereighth @llamasgrl @timmagicktoad @lilyofchoices @msjpuddleduck @mfackenthal @paulfwesley @ccolz88-blog @mindlessdreaminxo @jooous @lapisreviewsstuff @choicesarehard @themingdynasty @omgjasminesimone @hopelessly-shipper  @binny1985  @perriewinklenerdie  @jens-diamondchoices  @indiacater  @chasingrobbie  @writingsbymissy  @dimitriwife  @tacohead13  @amy-choices @mrsmatsuo @checkurwindow​ @imrookieramsey​ @mrsmatsuo​ @bitchloveskcbaseball​

Previous Updates: Residency — Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen Part Fourteen Part Fifteen Part Sixteen Part Seventeen Part Eighteen Part Nineteen

Residency: Second Chances -- Part One Part Two

PART THREE

And just like that he was back on a plane.

Ethan had spent the remaining month of his project with the WHO in a daze. He threw himself into his work — even more than before. He didn’t give himself a moment to stop, to idle. If he did the thoughts would creep in like they had on that beach. Or like when he had foolishly opened up to that nosy Doctor in camp.

So he just kept going and going and going.

And now he sat on the plane home, staring blankly at the TV screen in the back of the chair in front of him. A book was in his hands — the front cover curled in underneath the back as he held onto it tightly. Probably too tightly. He watched the tiny animation of the plane slowly tick forward — representing them soaring through the sky. Tiny white letters flashed along the bottom of the screen.

6 hours and 14 minutes remaining.

6 hours and 14 minutes until he would have to face his reality.

He let out a loud sigh — his head falling back onto the headrest.

“Not a good book?”

Ethan’s dark brows furrowed at the voice — annoyed at whoever was speaking so loudly. Adjusting himself in his seat, he moved his head forward again before he realized that the question was being directed to him.

The woman across from him had angled her body towards him, leaning out in the tiny hallway of the plane with a soft smile on her face as she waited for him to reply.

The furrow in his brow deepened. “What?” He barked back.

“Is your book not good? I was eyeing it in the airport store before we boarded.”

“Actually no. It’s not good. You saved yourself $5.” His words were short and clipped. Final. This stranger needed to learn some social grace and leave him alone.

“Oh. Right.” She seemed to have gotten the hint, and he watched from the corner of his eye as she turned back to sit in her seat properly. He looked at the small screen again.

6 hours and 13 minutes remaining.

“I’m sorry... but why isn’t it good?” Her voice rang out again, but it sounded anything but apologetic.

Ethan let out a long breath through his nose, flashing the woman a look before replying, “It’s fiction.”

“So?”

“Fiction, fantasy — that’s what people want. But reality is what people need.”

“Oh. You’re one of those.” She turned away from him again, grabbing onto the magazine in her lap and starting to flick through the pages with feigned interest. 

His jaw set in a hard line, “One of those what’s?”

“A Mr. Serious-Type. You can’t read for pleasure, you only read for knowledge. You probably read textbooks for fun.” She rolled her eyes.

Ethan almost felt his look twitch into a smile. She had almost read him right, “I write textbooks for fun.”

She looked at him quizzically, “What are you a professor?”

“Doctor.”

“Oh wow.” Her eyebrows shot up, “And I guess a pretty good one too if you write textbooks?”

Images of the patients he had failed flashed in his mind. Dolores being wheeled into emergency surgery to never return. Choking his failure out to Naveen and begging him to stay in the hospital anyways. “Most of the time.”

“I’m just a photographer.”

Apparently this stranger was insistent on keeping up this absurd conversation. “That has its own value in the world. Don’t discredit what you do.”

She let out a chuckle, “I think doctor is higher up than photographer.”

His eyebrows furrowed, “You couldn’t be more wrong.”

The woman blinked at him in surprise, “Do you usually argue with strangers on airplanes?”

“Do you usually force conversations with strangers on airplanes?” He countered.

A smirk spread across her face as she settled into her seat a little more. “No. But you haven’t checked the flight tracker in over 3 minutes.”

“I—,” Ethan’s blue eyes flashed to the tiny screen again.

6 hours and 10 minutes remaining.

He gave her a bewildered stare. “You did that on purpose?!”

“I was watching you watching that thing. It was driving me crazy.”

He set his jaw in a hard line, feeling annoyed. “I — “

She flashed him a wide grin, “You’re welcome Dr. Serious.”

Ethan sat in stunned silence for a moment. This woman’s antics ... they reminded him of her. Of Jordynne. Isn’t this exactly what she would do? Poke the bear. Distract him enough to get himself out of his own head. Bring him back down to earth.

“So are you counting down the minutes because you’re so excited to get home? Or because you’re dreading getting back?” She asked sincerely, a half smile on her face as she waited for his answer.

He pursed his lips for a moment as he thought. This whole trip has been about running away. Escaping to get a break and restart. But he had missed home. He had missed his work. He thought of Jenner living with his father for the past two months. All the great coffee he could have once he was back at home.

Ethan let out a conflicted sigh, “Is both a valid answer?”

“Completely.”

“Then both.”

That was two strangers now that he had confided in. Who was he? He felt like he could barely recognize the man speaking right now.

But he realized he didn’t have anyone else to speak to about it. The two people he would open up to were the two people he couldn’t. He didn’t want to disappoint Naveen even more than he already had. And Jordynne... well, that was the whole point of this. To not talk to her. To not open up.

He was supposed to go back to how things were before. Restart, refresh.

Back to the cynic. The man of convictions. Dr. Serious. Dr. Terminator.

So why couldn’t he?

______________________________________________________________________

A content sigh left Ethan as he settled onto the familiar stool in Donahue’s.

Now this was the old Ethan Ramsey. Sitting at the corner of the bar, drink in hand away from the crowd of people.

This is what he needed. To get back into his normal routine, to fall back into his own rhythm. A night at the tacky bar was exactly what he would be doing the night before his first day at work.

Reggie approached his corner of the bar, tossing a rag over his shoulder before leaning up against the counter casually. “So you’re back.”

Ethan nodded, taking another swig of his beer.  

“And you were...?” His question trailed off as he waited for him to jump in.

“In the Amazon.”

“For vacation?”

“For work.” He said simply, placing the pint glass down carefully.

“You’re a weird man,” Reggie said with furrowed brows. “You should check out the beer garden — while it’s still nice out.” He said simply before turning to go help a couple of people standing at the bar.

A half-smirk spread across his face. Short conversations like that was exactly why Ethan liked Reggie. They made remarks, he gave him his drinks and he let him be.

Just like how things used to be.

Good — it was already working. The reset was working.

Stretching off of his stool, Ethan grabbed a hold of his drink before weaving around the crowd of people and tables. He decided to take Reggie’s suggestion — the view of downtown Boston was nice out there too and maybe it would be a little less crowded.

As he went to step outside his feet suddenly planted to the ground unmoving.

He was frozen in the door frame leading to the beer garden — condensation dripping from his beer, pouring over his warm hand.

There she was.

He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t prepared himself for her to be here. It was one of her haunts now too.

Everything he had forced back in South America — all the memories and thoughts — all of that work evaporated. Like that — they were gone.

He had forgotten the effect Jordynne had on him. Miles away in the rainforest had made him forget the real, visceral effect she had on him. His palms had turned warm and sweaty, his heartbeat was picking up and had started to climb up his throat.

How was it that she was the first person he noticed in the crowded venue?

She was dressed for the warm weather — her tan shoulders and collarbone revealed in a yellow tube top. Her blonde hair was pulled half up, framing her face that had gotten even more freckled the last couple of months. She was clinking her pint of beer with her friends, a wide smile stretching over her pink lips. But confusion replaced it as her eyebrows furrowed, then her eyed searched around the beer garden until they landed on his frozen figure.

Her expression softened — the furrow in her brows disappearing and her mouth opening in surprise.

Ethan’s body unconsciously carried him over to the table, his grip tightening on his glass as he got closer. He hesitated in front of her table moment, before

finally meeting her green eyes, “Rookie.” He said with a nod, waiting for her reaction.

She hesitated for a moment, licking her lips before speaking, “It’s good to have you back, Doctor Ramsey.”

“Yeah...,” Doctor Ramsey. Not Ramsey. Not Ethan. Professional, formal, distant. “Good to be back.” He gathered himself up, before casually flicking his eyes towards the rest of the table. He didn’t fail to notice Lahela and his proximity to her — his shoulder almost pressed up to hers. He had a hard to read expression on his face — which Ethan assumed could only mean that they had started things back up again. “Doctors. Enjoy your evening.”

He marched back into the main bar quickly — his heart pounding. He found his familiar stool and slid back into it — holding himself steady with the edge of it for just a moment.

Reggie eyed him, before turning his back to him. There was the sound of a glass clinking before he silently slid a filled tumbler towards him. “You look like you need something a little harder than your beer.”

Ethan gave him a warning glance, before pushing his beer to the side and taking a large gulp of the scotch.

“So it’s still her, hey?” The bartender asked, watching him as he put glasses into the dishwasher — steam swirling around his forearms.

His thick brows furrowed, and nose scrunched up, “What?”

“Blondie. I don’t know her name. I know she’s out in the beer gardens right now— that why you came running back in here?” Reggie’s eyebrows were raised high on his forehead.

Ethan set his jaw into a hardline. “I’m not sure I know who you’re talking about.” 

“Uh-huh, sure... Blonde, legs for days, works at that life and death factory of yours.” He put a glass down for a moment so he could fix Ramsey with a good state, “Actually, I think the last time I saw you in my bar all those months ago you were leaving with her.”

That was the last time Ethan was here. The celebration after her hearing. They had barely lasted 5 minutes in the bar before they had left together in that yellow cab.

“Touché.” He raised the scotch tumbler up in a mock salute before taking another gulp.

“Don’t try to pull one over Reggie. I see all.”

“She still in here a lot?” His finger ran over the rim of the glass as he waited for the bartender to answer.

“Not every day like the usual riff-raff from the hospital. But enough that I recognize her.”

“Have you...,” He hesitated for a moment. Should he really ask it? But his curiosity got the best of him, “Have you noticed her with anyone?”

“She doesn’t come here alone if that’s what you mean. And she’s also not dancing on tabletops and sneaking away with anyone either.”

“Right.” He wasn’t sure what to do with that information.

Ethan went on high alert as he noticed Jordynne slip inside from the beer garden — waiting at the corner of the bar to place an order.

Reggie noticed her just after him and he gave Ethan a knowing look before taking her order.

He had to keep forcing his blue eyes away from her — staring down at the amber liquid in his drink, the neon lights behind the bar, the never-ending commercials on the television.

But the sound of shattering glass caused his ears to perk up, and he turned to look at Jordynne immediately. She was standing in shock — her mouth opened in surprise.

He watched as the aftermath of a scene unfurled. He instantly recognized Thorne from the hospital — clutching his mangled hand to his chest, his jaw was set in a hardline. A young woman was next to him — her face was blank but he could see her grasping her bloody leg — pieces of glasses were sticking out of it.

Ethan pushed off of his stool, abandoning his drink and marching over to the trio quickly.

But before he could react Jordynne had rushed forward, grabbing the back of the Thorne’s jacket and pulling him back away from the young woman with a strength Ethan didn’t know she had, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She snarled — her face was filled with fury as her voice rang out.

“This bitch broke my hand! I’m a plastic surgeon! Do you have any idea how valuable my hands are? I’m pressing charges! And by the time my lawyers are through with her—“

Her white teeth bared at him as she went to speak again, stepping closer to him. But Ethan got there before she could do anything else.

“Garret. That’s enough.” He growled, putting his body in front of Jordynne, one hand behind him softly pushing on her torso — stopping her from coming forward. The other hand was raised up at Throne, ready to push him back a lot harder if he needed to. “You still got one good hand, don’t you? Put it to use and call yourself a cab.” He glared down at the man, his nostrils flared.

He felt Jordynne’s body disappear from against his hand and heard footsteps retreating. He didn’t break his eye contact with Thorne — trusting Jordynne could handle helping the other woman.

“Get out of my way Ramsey, that bitch owes me.” He spat, trying to look over his shoulder to see where the woman had went.

“Did you hear me? I said call yourself a cab.” He repeated, enunciating each word.

Thorne pushed his face closer to Ethan’s, flaring his nostrils at him, “You might have people in your pocket in the hospital, Ramsey. But out here, this is the real world. And you don’t get to dictate me.”

“Is that so?” Before he could react, Ethan angrily grabbed onto his collar and pulling him for Reggie to see. “Shall I?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Get that idiot out of here!” He yelled as he crossed over the bar with a broom in hand.

“Gladly,” Ethan snarled, dragging Garrett towards the exit.

“That blonde chick — she your pet or something, Ramsey? You got real heated as soon as she was involved.” His voice was a bit strained as Ethan dragged him out of the bar. Luckily there was a yellow cab idling nearby and he was able to wave it over.

“Shut up and get in the cab.” He said through gritted teeth, doing his best to ignore the comment.

“‘Cause I swear I recognize her from somewhere...” He hinted, catching onto the door of the cab with his good hand to stop Ethan from pushing him into it.

“You know what I seem to remember? How you got your sexual harassment case at the hospital buried. I wonder what would happen if you were charged with it outside of the hospital too? Might not be very good for practicing.” Ethan pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over the emergency services button.

“Fine.” He spat, “But I won’t forget this.”

“Neither will I.” Ethan pushed the man into the car with a hit more force than was necessary. A growl escaped him as he watched Thorne’s smirk through the window as the cab pulled away.

A heavy sigh escaped his lips. That was the exact opposite of what he had expected for his first night back home. With heavy steps, he walked back into the bar — feeling a couple of stares on him as soon as he entered.

Jordynne’s green eyes found his as he walked back to his stool. They were crinkled with worry for a moment before the look suddenly vanished at the sounds of her friends coming in from the beer garden.

“Whoa, Jordynne what went down in here?” Elijah asked, rolling around the broken glass by the bar carefully.

“You know Dr. Thorne, the plastic surgeon? He wouldn’t leave this girl alone. It got intense.” She crossed her arms over her torso, a look of disgust on her face as she looked over the aftermath of the scene.

Reggie tutted and shook his head as he swept up the broken glass as she told them what happened.

“I always knew that guy was gross.” Jackie matched Jordynne’s expression.

“Alright, people, last call. You ain’t gotta go home, but you can’t stay here.” Reggie stopped sweeping for a moment, waving his hand to get everyone’s attention.

“Already? I’m not even close to ready for tomorrow to start.” Ethan watched from his stool as Jordynne wrapped her arms around her torso — suddenly looking nervous.

“Like Reggie said, last call doesn’t have to mean ‘go home’. We can stay out and explore.” Bryce grabbed onto her elbow easily, flashing her his signature smile.

Ethan did his best to keep his face neutral.

“Screw that, I’m starving. Let’s get something to eat.”

“You guys are nuts. I’m twenty minutes away from falling asleep on my wheels!” 

“Good thing we can get you home in fifteen then.” Sienna smiled down at Elijah as she grabbed onto the handles of his chair. “You coming, Jordynne?”

Jordynne’s eyes darted over the other patrons leaving the bar, before looking back to Ethan on his usual stool on the corner of the bar.  

“What? Last call doesn’t apply to you?” She raised a dark brow at him.

“Reggie and I have an arrangement.” He held onto his glass a bit tighter.

“An arrangement? Is that what you call friendship?” A smile almost spread across her pink lips.

“I guess you forgot. I don’t have friends. But… I wouldn’t mind you joining me if you were so inclined.” He offered, doing his best to sound casual.

This could be a good way to start their professional relationship. Her fellowship would be starting tomorrow since it marked his return to work. They needed to start things right. Like they should have all those months ago.

“You coming Jordy?” Bryce asked again. Ethan could swear he saw his smile flickering a bit. The usually confident surgeon looked unsure.

“Umm…,” She hesitated for a moment, tucking a lock of her golden blonde hair behind her ear, “You guys go on ahead. I just want to quickly check in about tomorrow with Dr. Ramsey.”

“Okay. Just don’t stay out too late… Aurora’s dropping off the rest of her stuff before work tomorrow, remember?” Sienna jerked her head towards a slightly frowning Bryce. It definitely sounded like a warning.

She blinked at her friend for a moment, before nodding, “I know. It's just about the fellowship.”

Ethan turned back around in his stool as she said goodbye to her friends.

He was suddenly reminded of the night after her first day as an intern as he heard the scrape of the stool next to him. She had sidled up to him so easily then, but today she seemed more hesitant.

He looked over his shoulder at her, keeping his face composed. “Rook— er, Jordynne. Sorry,” He grimaced slightly, “Force of habit.”

She shrugged before she settled into the spot next to him. Usually, he was acutely aware of how little space she left between them when she was nearby. Now he was aware of how much more space she left. He watched her swallow before nodding at his leather jacket, “We’ve got ourselves a brand new Ethan Ramsey.”

He tugged at the hem of it self-consciously, “This jacket’s been through a lot with me.” After wearing it almost every day the last month of his trip it had started to mold to him.

“It suits you,” A half-smirk spread across her pink lips.

“Duly noted.” He put his tumbler glass down carefully, before scratching at his red-brown facial hair, “And the beard?”

Her green eyes flickered down to his new beard. He swore she lingered on his lips for a moment, but she looked back up with pursed lips, “It looks good on you.”

Ethan had to force his lips from upturning, instead, he continued to rub his jawline. “I’ve gotten used to it.”

Looking around his shoulders, he noted that the other patrons had left. It was only him, her and Reggie now — who was giving Ethan a pointed look. “Why don’t we move outside? It’ll be winter before we know it. Might as well enjoy the weather while we can. You want something to drink?”

She nodded in agreement, pushing herself up out of her stool, “Whatever you’re having.”

Reaching across the bar, Ethan snagged one of the bottles of good scotch still sitting in the bar well. “Hey, Reggie, we’re borrowing this.” The bartender handed him two clean glasses, before waving them off.

The pair headed back out to the beer garden — that was much more peaceful now that the crowd of people had left. He headed to the center fire pit, falling into the padded outdoor couch next to it. Jordynne slotted in beside him.

They sat in silence for a moment, looking up at the glowing lights strung up above them. The sun was just starting to set — turning the sky and pinky-orange.

“I can see why you like it here,” She finally spoke up. She sounded a little breathless.

“Because nobody’s annoying me?” He leaned back in his seat with a smirk.

“More or less. It’s peaceful.” She stared into the flames of the small fire pit, going quiet again.

Ethan wasn’t sure how to fill the quiet. It wasn’t a comfortable silence. He felt awkward — he didn’t really know how to do this anymore with her. Did he?

“So,” She broke the silence for him, “This Dr. Thorne guy. Should I be worried about him?” Her eyes moved from the fire to her drink.

“He has some influence.” He admitted, “Just stay out of his way for a couple weeks, and he’ll entirely forget who you are.”

“But not who you are. Should you be worried?” Her eyebrows were knitted together, concern on her face.

That was so Jordynne. Of course, she was worried about him, not herself.

“I’ve worked too hard to get to where I am to give a damn what someone like him thinks.” He shook his head, letting out a huff, “Don’t think twice about that asshole. What you did back there, helping that girl? You did the right thing. That’s all that matters.”

She shook her head back at him, but her eyes remained low, “We both know that’s not always true.”

“Hmm,” He felt heart pang, his stomach filling with guilt, “Well it should be. You’re too young to be a cynic like me.”

“I’m not being cynical. I just learned my lesson. You saw what happened last year. I almost lost my license for breaking the rules to help Mrs. Martinez. And I would do it again. Just like I would step in to help someone being harassed again. But people got hurt because of me — Mrs. Martinez’s family suffered. That’s not right.” She was chewing her lip as she spoke, visibly bothered.

“The lesson there is that if you put your patients first, you will always be vindicated in the end. That’s the lesson.” His blue eyes studied her, his thick brows meeting in the middle. “What you did just now was brave. You’ve always been brave in the face of disaster and death, of course... But it’s different to do it to a superior. To stand up to them for what’s right.”

A small smile spread across her face. It looked half-hearted, but it was still a smile. “It’s not as brave as venturing into the depths of the Amazon to fight an epidemic, that’s for sure.”

His heart fell. He stared into his drink for a moment before speaking, “That wasn’t bravery.”

His mouth went dry as he thought of what to say. He could hear the music from inside the bar trailing outside softly. Country music — he frowned.

Jordynne broke the silence before he could. “Ethan, why did you leave?”

He had avoided the question when she had asked before — when she had looked up at him with those big Bambi eyes in the parkade as he went to leave. Pleading with for a bit of honesty.

“I —,” His voice broke slightly, “I needed space.” He finally admitted, “I needed to reset before...”

“Before we worked together again?” She finished his sentence for him.

He nodded, “Exactly. So consider us reset. I won’t cross boundaries with you again. Your professional development is too important.”

He had said it once again. And he would stick to it. He had to.

“I see.” Her face suddenly became impossible to read. They had had this conversation so many times before — it was so well-rehearsed in his head by now. His heart still broke with guilt and grief remembering the looks she had given every time he told her this. But this time it was different.

Before he could even react, Jordynne had pushed her lips onto his. Ethan immediately tensed, his shoulders coming up to his ears. It took all of him to not give in. To not deepen it, to wrap his arms around her and pull her into him. Her lips were softer then he remembered.

He was cruel and didn’t pull away. His own selfishness winning out over logic. Just this one last time. To savor it. To remember what she tasted like.

When she pulled away, he watched as pain and wanting and confusion and hurt washed over her. Her green eyes staring deeply into his own blue ones, studying them.

“Dammit, Jordynne...”, Ethan finally breathed out, furrowing his eyebrows and scrunching up his forehead.

Her voice was barely a whisper. Her face still close enough to him that he could feel her breath, “If you don’t want to kiss me again, then just tell me...” He could smell the scotch on her breath, her perfume swirling around her.

But he interrupted her, “It has nothing to do with ‘want’. I can’t. And if I give a damn about you, I won’t.” He shook his head, biting down on the inside of his cheek hard for a moment. He took a hard swallow, “How am I supposed to push you to be everything you can be if I...”

He couldn’t finish that sentence.

“If you what?”

Ethan bit down on his lip this time, hard. Forcing himself to keep his emotions at bay. Forcing down that lump that was crawling up his throat. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Finally, he managed to — before downing his tumbler of scotch in one giant gulp.

“Okay.” Her voice was so quiet. He had never heard her so quiet, so defeated. “I get it.” She got up off of her seat, awkwardly wrapping her arms around her torso.

She stood in front of him, avoiding his stare again. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Dr. Ramsey.” She barely got the words out before marching back towards the bar.

He tightened his jaw as he watched her go. Pushing down every thought and wish and hope. That he should go after her. He could drive her home. That maybe she’d come back.

But that couldn’t be.

Fantasy is what people want. But reality is what they need.

This was Ethan Ramsey’s new reality.

“Good night, Dr. Holland.” He croaked out as she slipped inside and away from him.

______________________________________________________________________

Jordynne’s feet were killing her. She had marched out of that bar so fast, her feet slapping the ground as she raced away — hiding her red face from people passing by.

She took the steps down to the subway two at a time — so desperate to just be home under her covers already. She would have started running if she hadn’t have dressed up for the evening.

Finding a quiet corner of the subway, she slumped down into a seat and buried her face into her hands.

She had thought...

Well — she wasn’t sure what she thought would happen. Was she really surprised Ethan rejected her? How many times had they had that conversation before?

She guessed she thought that if she gave it one last chance she would finally have her answer.

And now she did.

She felt tears well up in her eyes — threatening to rush over onto her cheeks. But she squeezed her eyes shut so hard it hurt.

Jordynne was not going to let herself cry over this. Over him.

She wanted an answer and she got it.

She was better than crying on the subway. Better than pining over someone she would clearly never have. She was an intelligent woman. She was the junior fellow of the Diagnostics team. Of his diagnostics team.

So she would ignore it. They both will. They’ll pretend whatever it is between them doesn’t exist. That will just be her new reality.

Jordynne’s thoughts were interrupted as a shadow passed over her — a figure grabbing onto the railing above her and looking down. She craned her neck to catch a glimpse at the person.

Lahela.

He always had a way of showing up at just the right time. His long hair was hanging over his face as he looked down at her.

“Bryce, what are you doing? I thought you went out to explore.” She asked, confusion sweeping across her face.

“Ah,” He shrugged a little with a half-smile, “I walked along the river for a bit but figured I should be at least a little well-rested before becoming an all-mighty resident.”

She let out a soft chuckle, “Who knew this could make you have an even bigger ego?”

He joined her laughing — the sound melting the icy cold that had started to creep up in her moments before. She moved to the side as he sat down next to her in the red plastic seats of the subway.

He leaned back into the chair, looking as casual as one could on public transportation, “How was Ramsey? Everything all set for tomorrow?”

“Yup,” Her mouth got dry at his mention, “Fellowship officially starts tomorrow.” 

“Did he...?” But his voice trailed off — he sounded uncertain.

She raised an eyebrow at him, prompting him to continue— unable to guess what it was he was wondering.

“Did he — did you talk about you two?” His brown puppy dog eyes were crinkled with worry.  

Jordynne let out a heavy sigh, shaking her head, “There is no us two.”

“I’m not — I’m not asking this because of you and me. About our deal.” He met her eyes, looking at her intently, “I’m asking — because you’re my friend. And I care about you.”

“I know.” She nodded, believing him. “He is the head of the diagnostics team. And I am the junior fellow.” Another heavy breath escaped her, “And that’s where it will end.”

“Jordy...” His voice was soft and sad as he watched her, but she didn’t give him anything more to go on. He chewed his lip for a moment before speaking again, “So what happens now?”

“I think...,” Her eyebrows furrowed as she thought of what she wanted. Of what to do next. “I think I just want to be a doctor. Just put my head down and do what I came here to do.”

Bryce gave her a smile, nodding in agreement. “Just change one thing about that plan.”

She raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

“You’re not just a doctor. You’re a damn good doctor. And no history with your boss, or devilishly distracting surgeon,” He flashed her a wink, “Will get in the way of that, ok?”

“Thanks, Bryce.” The vote of confidence boosted her mood a bit.

“You just do you, Jordy. Everything else will fall into place,” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his warm side. She stiffened for a moment — worried about the gesture. But he didn’t move any closer, and his face didn’t move to meet hers closely. She settled into him a little bit, thankful to have a friend with her.

And the pair continued to sit like that as the subway brought them home.

[destieltropecollection]

Your Improvements Answered!

Hey! I’ve seen some great ideas in the improvements section of the feedback form, so I’d just like to go through and respond to some of them!

Under a readmore because my answers are quite long haha

Some fanfics were WIP (which isn't a problem) but weren't updated for years! I don't really see the point of submitting these fics if it's abandonned...

Not alphabetical order. I know abo is popular, but it's always first. Also may 1st is my birthday. I personally can't stand that trope 😂 also the wip... Always get scared the author will not complete it.

This is a very good point, and not something I thought to check out. I don’t want to remove WIPs from the collection as I know a lot of people who love reading WIPs and the authors of those deserve the promotion too. However, I will likely change the rules surrounding updating somehow.  As for alphabetical order: It’s the most intuitive way to list them, and I have no control over A/B/O being the first trope alphabetically, or the fact that it gets voted for every year. :) 

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The banner/photo at the top of each post took up a little too much space, maybe if it was a little bit smaller it could load better on my device.

The banner size I use, 540x300 is pretty much the “standard” banner size which is found across tumblr and many of the other challenges I’ve hosted and co-hosted in the past. This is unlikely to change, and I’m sorry they don’t load correctly on your device :( 

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It was hard to go back and find posts. I’d love the posts to have a cut so there was less scrolling needed. Or maybe an easy-to-find masterpost?

Some posts were a bit long (maybe some tropes could be split into two posts?)

As you’ve probably seen, the masterpost has now been posted as it has every 1st June after the collection has finished posting! Find past masterlists here. In regards to finding it hard to go back and find posts, I tag everything so that it’s super easy to find from the blog. the #destiel trope collection 2020 tag will show you all the posts from this year, once (the other posts were tagged as signal boost). I also tag the trope as well so it can be searched for via that, and the trope names which are in more than one year are the same too :)  I’m wary about putting the posts under a readmore, as I don’t want just a few fics to show and not others, nor do I want no fics at all showing, so this is unlikely to change. Splitting the posts in two also wouldn’t work, or at least it would shorten the amount of tropes available for the month. It’s hard to guarantee which posts will have lots and which won’t have as many. 

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Was/can the master post be available at the beginning of the month? , pin the master post on the blog

I will be pinning the masterlist at some point, but for now, the feedback form is pinned for at least another week or so, it’s important to me to find out what I can do to make this better :D The masterlist cannot be available at the beginning of the month as I won’t have all the links available to fill it. It also takes the joy away from posting one trope a day for the month. 

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Some authors are repeated more than two times in some tropes

Firstly, this is allowed, authors were allowed up to 4 fics in one trope. However, next year this will be rectified properly. It is currently a “loose rule” where I suggest no more that 4 entries into one trope by one author. Next year I will make the rule a definite, and instead of chasing people up about which fics they’d like to keep, I will choose the first 3 or 4 (depending on what I decide) that they entered into the trope :) I apologise that it was a bit confusing this year, I’ll try to make any and all rules clear and concise. 

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I wish the lists were bigger!

Me too! Unfortunately I can only advertise it so much, and greatly rely on everyone else reblogging it, telling their destiel writing friends and getting them to submit their fics. The number of fics has gone up each year (this year was pretty similar to last year). The first collection in 2017 had 213 fics, so this year more than double it! 

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the way a fic had to be submitted

The submission form for submitting a fic. It took me a lot longer because I had to bounce arround to transfer things from AO3 onto the form, if everything on the form was in order of how it's listed on AO3 it would make submitting a lot faster.

The first year I did this, I asked people to submit their fics via the blog (well it was my fandom blog at the time before this official blog was born). That was honestly chaos, I set out a list of what I needed from people in the order I needed it in and it was largely ignored :/ and it meant I had to copy and paste everything by hand, one fic at a time. I then used an online form as this allowed me to collect the data and change it into what I needed on another document, however, I still had to copy and paste each one separately (that’s a lot of work when I have 450+ fics being submitted). This year I was able to get help with an even more time saving way which meant I could use the google sheets view that was produced by the form to change it into HTML and I could then filter by trope and highlight all the fics in one go. You can get all of the information you need just from your works page on AO3 (and not everyone posts from AO3 also), so there’s not that much jumping around being done. I will look into it more thoroughly and see if there’s an easier order.

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It would be awesome if you would reblog the older collections while the new one is being published, so we can see the differences, like 2017 friends to lovers and 2020 friends to lovers. Also, I would really like to see more of the trope collection during its hiatus. You could queue the masterlists to be rebloged once a month or something

It’s a great idea in theory, but the posts differ from year to year, and I feel some would be lost and forgotten. I do like the idea of reblogging the masterlist once a month until next year! That’s a great idea :D I think I will also reblog some of the of the older posts/masterlists in that time as well!

[commander-rahrah]

RESIDENCY (AN OPEN HEART FIC): PART FOURTEEN

Pairing: MC (Jordynne Holland) X Ethan Ramsey X Bryce Lahela; MC X Bryce; MC X Ethan

Masterlist: Click Here

Chapter Rating: M (Swearing, Kissing)

Word Count: 5900+

Description: Ethan and Jordynne receive advice from two lonely hospital patients. The pair of them find comfort in each other. 

Disclaimer: Characters, storyline, and parts of the dialogue are taken from Pixelberry’s Choices. They fully own the characters, dialogue, backgrounds, etc. MC Jordynne’s background is my own creation, based loosely off of MC in-game’s personality and provided with more details.

Author’s Note: Oh, Mrs. Martinez chapter... How it broke my heart. I always wished we had more one on one scenes with MC and Naveen as well, so I wrote one of those! I’m starting to gear up for the hurt and angst -- boy, oh boy it’s a big one. As always any likes, reblogs and comments are extremely appreciated! If you would like to be tagged in future updates please reply or DM me! :) 

Taglist: @drakewalkerfantasy​ @owleyes374​ @lahelable​ @mayar-mahdy​ @paisleylovergirl​ @nicquix​ @emilymay100​ @octobereighth​ @llamasgrl @timmagicktoad @lilyofchoices @msjpuddleduck @mfackenthal @paulfwesley @ccolz88-blog @mindlessdreaminxo

Previous Updates: Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part ElevenPart Twelve Part Thirteen

PART FOURTEEN

Drumming her fingers on her clipboard, Jordynne waited nervously for the elevator doors to open. She was headed to check on Naveen, and was doing her best to make sure that nobody noticed her absence on her floor.

And maybe she was hoping a certain Attending would be with Dr. Banerji as well.

They hadn’t had much time together since Bryce had showed up at his office a week earlier. At least not the type of moment she was hoping for. Rounds, and passing by in the cafeteria didn’t really count.

Across the hospital, Ethan hovered at the nurses' station — glancing over his shoulder, trying to keep an eye out for the familiar flicker of blonde hair. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for — he could just page her. But it didn’t feel the same. And he didn’t really want anyone to know he was seeking her out — he didn’t have a good enough excuse for that.

Jordynne darted into the newly constructed wing, ducking under the plastic tarps and into the hallway of Naveen’s room. Quickly padding over, she felt her shoulders sink a little as she realized that the old man was lying in the room all alone. No Ethan in sight.

Noticing the lingering eyes from a few nearby nurses, Ethan pushed himself up off of the counter and started marching through the halls. She had to be around here somewhere.

“Oh, Doctor! Hello!” Two different voices from opposite sides of the hospital caught both of their attention.

Jordynne crossed over to Naveen’s bed, grabbing onto his wrist gently with a smile. “Dr. Banerji, how are you feeling today?”

“I’ve told you a thousand times, Naveen my girl.” His other brown hand tapped hers before he clasped it. “But what I really want to know is how you are?”

Her eyebrows raised in surprise, “Me? I’m fi—“

But the old man stopped her with a tsk, “You know, all I do is sit in this bed and stare at the pair of you all day. I notice things.”

Trying to hide the emotion on her face, she grabbed the flip chart from the bottom of the bed and stared at it instead. Licking her pink lips, she questioned him, “And what have you noticed?”

“Well,” He sat up in the bed a little more, and clasped his hands together on his lap, “First, obviously something happened between you two in Miami — other than Ethan selling out my department to the cockroach. Second, you both obviously are not ‘fine’.” He curled his fingers into quotation marks.

Jordynne hesitated, “Did Dr. Ramsey say anything?”

“He doesn’t have to. I’ve known Ethan for a very long time, my dear. It’s very easy to see that he is… conflicted, to say the least.”

She scoffed a little, “Conflicted. Right.” Putting down the chart, she sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the sterile, white wall. “I’m confused — more than anything.”

“About?”

“I never know which Ethan I’m going to get.” She said quietly, staring at her hands in her lap. “The cynical Attending, the cold, calculated researcher, a mentor, or just Ethan.”

Naveen furrowed his dark brows for a moment, thinking, “He’s afraid.”

Jordynne nodded, “I know, he is. But all this waiting and hoping — it’s killing me. I know what I want.” Her soft voice broke a little as she finally looked at Naveen.

The old man gave her a sad smile, “Patience is a virtue? All good things come to those who wait?” He offered.

She let out a breathless laugh.

“Don’t give up on him, Jordynne. Don’t give up on Ethan.” He leaned forward on the bed, and grabbed her elbow gently, “Maybe you’re not meant to be together today, but meant to be in the future.”

She chewed her lip as she felt water forming in her eyes, “I won’t.”

Ethan turned around at the voice next to him, “Oh, Doctor! Hello!”

A small smile spread across his face as he saw Mrs. Martinez walked over to him — her usual IV stand prop was nowhere to be seen. “Look at you, Mrs. Martinez! You look great.”

“Ha, coming from Dr. Handsome, I’ll take it.” She winked, linking her arm in his. The pair walked in silence for a moment, before stopping at the end of the hall in front of the big bright windows. “You just missed her.”

His forehead crinkled in confusion, “What?”

“Dr. Holland.” She said simply, still looking out the window. “I assume that’s who you are looking for.”

Licking his lips, Ethan subtly glanced around them — to make sure no one was listening. The hallway was quiet — only a nurse worked quietly at her station far from them. "What are you talking about, Teresa?” He hissed, keeping his voice low.

She snorted, “Oh, I didn’t realize it was a secret -- since you’re so obvious.”

His blue eyes flashed her a look,  “What—“

“The way you two look at each other -- it's like watching a movie. Will they? Won’t they?” She gave him a teasing smile, "You do know I’m an old woman, who does nothing but sit in a bed all day. I notice things.”

Ethan’s shoulders dropped a little, feeling less defensive. “It’s not really that obvious, is it?” He asked quietly.

Mrs. Martinez patted his hand softly, “Only to those who are invested, love. And I know you both quite well by now — so it is clear to me. Is it clear to you?”

He let out a sigh, looking back out the window — watching the cyclists whiz by, pedestrians loitering on the sidewalk below. “It’s not cut and dry, black and white. It’s… complicated.” He hated that word so much now.

“It doesn’t have to be complicated.” God, she sounded just like Jordynne.

He set his jaw in a hard line, “But it is.”

Feeling her turn, Ethan moved to face Mrs. Martinez. She looked up at him — her old eyes turning wise, “You want to know what I think?” Before he could answer, she started speaking again, “I think, the universe sends us exactly what we need, right when we need it.” Her wrinkled face turned into a smile once again, “And I’ve been in this hospital for a very long time, love. And I have never met anyone like that girl.”

Leaning forward, she placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a hearty tap. “So don’t fuck it up.” She said quietly, before padding away back to her room.

Ethan stood dumbfounded for a moment — his eyebrows raised in surprise. Realizing where he was, he blinked himself back to reality before racing back to his office.

_______________________________________________________________________

“Surprise!” The chorus of voices echoed throughout the cafeteria as Mrs. Martinez entered the room. The old woman’s mouth opened, her eyes going wide as she took in everyone.

“Surprise, Mrs. Martinez! We’re so glad to see you healthy enough to leave!” Jordynne wrapped her arm around her shoulder, pressing her into a side hug.

Ethan had to fight the smile growing on his face as he watched the old woman’s face light up. “What… What is all this?”

Harper stepped forward, “You’ve been a staple of this hospital for years. We wanted to send you off properly.” She said, giving her a warm smile.

The old woman wiped at her eyes, "I’m simply… From the bottom of my heart, thank you.”

“You deserve it. All of it.” Jordynne said tenderly, before stepping back to let the rest of the hospital staff crowd around Mrs. Martinez. A soft smile spread across her face as she watched.

Ethan sidled up next to her, “Enjoying yourself, Rookie?”  

She turned her head, her green eyes meeting his green ones, “This is better than I expected. Mrs. Martinez seems to be enjoying herself too.”

The pair smiled as they watched her deep in conversation, recounting one of her stories with large hand motions.

Ethan crossed his arms over his chest, “I haven’t seen her smile this easily in a long time.”

“I can’t believe you got so many people to come to this.” She waved to the crowd of people in the cafeteria.

He shrugged, “Easy. I just paged them. Mrs. Martinez has been here longer than some of us have been doctors. She’s the heart and soul of Edenbrook.”

He watched her out of the corner of his eye — the proud look on her face, the freckles that dusted her nose, her shiny pink lips. Gulping, he looked away with a furrowed brow, “And, Rookie… don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

Her forehead crinkled, “Forgotten what?”

“The day of Declan’s meeting.” He recalled the day, how she had asked him to trust her. That it would be better if he didn’t know. That she was doing whatever it took. “I know you had some hand in this. Perhaps one day you’ll be so kind as to clue me in.”

She bit her lip, “Yeah… one day…”

“Pssst! Jordynne!” Dr. Varma waved her over, and she gave Ethan a polite smile and shrug before walking over to her group of her friends in the corner. He swallowed as Lahela wrapped his arm around her waist easily, drawing her into him as the group put their head together.

What was he trying to do here? They still hadn’t spoken — not like he wanted to. Mrs. Martinez’ words filled his head. Don’t fuck it up.

Blinking himself back to reality, he watched as Jordynne stepped forward with her coffee mug, “Everyone, please raise your glasses for a toast…

“Here’s to Mrs. Martinez and her next big adventure!” People clinked their coffee mugs and paper cups together in the toast. Ethan held his cup in the air for a moment alone, before hugging his back to his chest.

“Thank you all…” She wiped a tear away from her cheek, “So much. I’m so happy to have friends like you all.”

“I still don’t quite understand how you improved so quickly…,” Harper’s face was clouded with a look Ethan knew well — suspicion, confusion. “But I’m happy to see you go. I received word that your ride is here.”

“Wonderful! Dr. Holland, perhaps you can escort me downstairs.” She looped her arm through Jordynne’s like she had done with so many of the doctors and nurses before.

Jordynne gave her a big smile, before muttering something to Mrs. Martinez under her breath. She looked up at Ethan, her eyes soft. Nodding her head towards this entrance, she silently asked for him to join them.

Ethan sidled up to them, offering the crook of his elbow out to Mrs. Martinez, “You sure?” He asked hesitantly, almost glancing back to her group of friends. The pair nodded together.  “If that’s what you want.” Using his other hand, he grabbed the handle of her little red suitcase and started walking.

The trio walked in silence down the hall and through the front entrance, all of them taking the time to look at the all too familiar building.

Once they were outside, Teresa took her arms away from the two doctors and took in a big breath of fresh air. She moved her face up, letting the warm sun shine on it. Turning around, she faced them again — tears rolling down her wrinkly cheeks. “For years, I couldn’t wait to get away, but now… part of me will miss this awful place.”

“We’ll miss you too, Mrs. Martinez,” Ethan said gruffly, swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat.

Giving him a warm smile, she spoke to him again, “Play nice with Dr. Holland, Ethan dear. You’re lucky to have her.”

“What?” Ethan’s mouth dropped open, his eyes flashing to Jordynne, “I mean… She’s,”

Mrs. Martinez winked at him, “Pick your jaw off of the floor, Dr. Ramsey. A handsome face like that shouldn’t look like a fish.”

He barked out a laugh, “Now go on. Get outta here. Don’t let me see your face around here again, understood?”

“Understood, Ethan.” Opening her arms, she pushed herself into him and gave him a big hug. She gave him a sweet smile, before doing the same to Jordynne. She moved her mouth up to the intern’s ear, speaking too low for him to hear again.

“Look out, world… here I come!” She grabbed onto her rolling suitcase, waddling off towards her car.

The pair watched her for a moment, shoulder to shoulder like normal. He felt Jordynne’s soft skin brush against the back of his hand — they were back to these moments? Accidentally touching that caused that familiar sense of electricity. The lingering moments alone?

Ethan felt his breath hitch slightly as Jordynne laced her fingers through his — the movement slow, questioning. Without thinking about, he moved his fingers around hers — it felt so natural. His thumb stroked across the soft skin of her fingers, memorizing how it felt.

They stood like that long after Mrs. Martinez cab disappeared around the busy corner of downtown Boston — watching the cyclists and cabs go by.

He felt a vibration on his hip, and let out a sigh. “Back to the daily struggle, I suppose.” It took more effort than he thought to undo his fingers from hers, stepping back from her towards the hospital doors. Glancing back, he paused to look at her again, “Rookie…,” There were so many things he could say right now.

“For what it’s worth… Mrs. Martinez saw something special in you.”

Jordynne tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, her cheeks flushed pink as she eyed the pavement before looking back up at him. “Do you see it too?”

Smart mouth. He tried to resist the smile aching to spread across his lips, but he gave in. “Since day one.” Grabbing onto the door, he gave her one last look before heading back into the hospital.

_______________________________________________________________________

Jordynne stared catatonic at the dark wall in the on-call room, feeling tears well up in her eyes. Heat spread through her body, and pain burst in her chest. No, no, no. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It’s not supposed to turn out this way.

A warm hand on her back made Jordynne realize where she was. Setting her jawline, she tried to stop the tears from falling down her cheeks.

She knew it was Bryce next to her — he was so familiar. His warmth was radiating off of him like a furnace, his practiced hand rubbing her back with ease. It was usually so comforting — but his touch made the pain in chest hurt more. It added on another layer of heartache. Because it wasn’t his comfort she craved right now.

A loud sob escaped her, and the dam was broken. Tears came down even faster, and she through her face into her hands.

“Hey, hey… It’ll be okay.” Bryce's honeyed voice said. He drew her into his chest, enveloping her in a hug. He nuzzled his face into her neck and hair, placing a kiss there. 

Jordynne hated herself.

The rest of the day was a haze. Her friends had convinced her not to tell Chief Emery yet. A few nurses had finally come back to help her, after much convincing from Danny’s part. It was long past her shift now. She had said no to her friends' suggestion to go out, insisting they have fun without her. Bryce had waited, double-checked to make sure she was okay, before giving her a kiss on the check.

Wandering through the hospital halls, she searched for him again.

The cafeteria was almost empty — patients, family members and hospital staff trickling out after the final meal of the day was served. Outside the sun was gone, leaving behind a navy sky that was illuminated by the city lights.

She saw him right away. Somehow he was always the first thing she saw in a room.

Ethan was in his usual corner, nursing the final drags of the coffee he most definitely brought down from his office. A leafy salad sat in front him, barely touched. He wasn’t hungry, she guessed. His finger skimmed across the words of a medical journal, his blue eyes passing over the words without really taking them in.

“Mind if I join you?”Jordynne asked, hesitating near his table.

He looked up at the sound of her voice, his brows furrowing as he took her in. He nudged out the chair across from him in a silent invitation.

“Reading anything good?” She did her best to keep her voice casual, her shaking fingers hidden underneath the table.

He shrugged, his white coat bustling around his muscular shoulders and biceps, “A fairly longwinded examination of the use of social media by physicians.”

A soft chuckle escaped her lips despite her mood, “You don’t strike me as the type to care about social media.”

A wry smile spread across his face, “I don’t. I’m waiting for the results for another of Naveen’s tests. I guess I’m trying to keep myself distracted.”

Jordynne chewed her lip, “I could use a little of that, too. Did — did you hear about Mrs. Martinez?”

She watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, “I did.”

The lump in her throat was getting too hard to push down, and there was familiar tightness in her chest, “It was me. I’m the reason she died.”

Ethan took a moment to consider what she said before he snapped his book close, looking around the cafeteria to find the room empty. “Tell me.”

Jordynne started talking and talking — feeling so relieved to have finally told him. The secret had been eating away at her. He had told her his — about Naveen. She wasn’t really sure why she had waited so long. She felt some of the pain in her chest go away — but not enough.  

He let out a long breath through his nose, “Well. You wouldn’t be the first doctor to do an utterly idiotic thing for noble reasons. Myself included.”

“I was so sure I was doing the right thing, but now… I can’t stop thinking about her. It’s like with my first patient Annie all over again. Or Delores. I’ve second-guessed everything I’ve said to every patient today. I’m terrified of getting it wrong with someone else…” She picked at the tops of her nails nervously, “Or coming back tomorrow to find myself kicked out of the program and not even getting a chance to try again.” She set her jaw as she felt hot tears welling up in her eyes, “And then I think of Mrs. Martinez dying all alone in another country and I feel so selfish for worrying about myself.” The tears splashed onto her cheeks as she finished, not able to take a full breath.

Ethan's warm fingers wrapped around her tan wrist, his thumb massaging into her in smooth, calming circles, “Stop,” He said calmly, before dipping his head down so he could see up into her face, that was bowed down, attempting to hide her tears. “You can’t do this to yourself. What you did was unethical and stupid, and kind.”

“You’re not angry at me?” She asked through the hiccups — trying to catch her breath.

“Anyone who cared about Teresa knew how much she hated being cooped up in this hospital.” He licked his lips as he stared down at his hand still wrapped around her wrist, “I wish you’d considered your own future in all of this, but it’s done now. Marinating in guilt won’t bring her back. You know that. We’ve done this.”

Her blonde ponytail bobbed as she shook her head, “I deserve to feel guilty about this,”

He squeezed her hand a little tighter, “Then your patients will suffer for it. Guilt destroys good doctors, Jordynne. I’ve seen it happen over and over again.”

“So what do I do?” She asked, chewing the inside of her cheek.

“Examine your mistakes, learn from them and let it go.” He said simply.

“That easy, huh?”

“I never said it was easy.” Pulling his hand away from hers, he checked the time on his expensive, leather watch, “I don’t think I’m getting these results today. I think I need to get away for a while if I am going to keep my sanity.”

She watched him wrestle with his own thoughts for a moment, before he spoke again, “I have season tickets at the Boston Opera House… Why don’t you join me?”

Her mouth opened in surprise, “Really? I mean, I was planning to just stay late and work…”

“I know the feeling. When something goes wrong, you want to make up for it immediately. But over the years, I’ve found it most important to let yourself process what happened. Let yourself feel it. And frankly, I consider the opera one of the most beautiful places in the city to let yourself feel.”

“The Doctor Ramsey, workaholic extraordinaire, just admitted that taking a break is good for him?” She teased.

“Rookie, are you coming or not?” He raised his eyebrow, pushing his chair into the cafeteria table.

Gulping a little, she tried to force down the conflicting emotions spreading through her body, “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Standing in front of the mirror, Jordynne readjusted the silky black dress one more time. She didn't want to get dolled up — not after everything today. But she wasn’t going to show up to the opera in her jeans and a cardigan.

Ethan was waiting in his Mercedes downstairs. She had risked him driving her to the apartment, and then stopping to let her get changed. She knew nobody would be home.

After quickly pinching her cheeks, and teasing her hair, Jordynne spritzed on some perfume to mask the smell of the hospital on her, before leaving the apartment in her kitten heels as fast as she could.

Her steps faltered as she rounded the corner outside of her building, and saw Ethan leaning against his black car. He had changed too — a dinner jacket was now covering the white button-up shirt he had worn to work today. The corners of his mouth turned up into a smile when he saw her, “You look nice.”

She felt her cheeks tinge pink, “Thanks. So do you. Do you keep a dinner jacket in your car or something?” She teased.

It was his turn to be embarrassed, as his smile turned sheepish and he scratched the back of his neck.

“Oh my god, I was joking. You actually do?”

“Well, I like to be prepared and this is a perfect example of why I do it.”

She laughed, “For emergency visits to the opera?”

“Yes. For emergency visits to the opera.” He rolled his blue eyes at her, before opening up the passenger door for her, “Get in the car, Jordynne.”

Her breath faltered a bit as he got into the driver’s seat. His scent was more apparent — the sandalwood and leather. Had he put on cologne? His hair seemed a little tidier too.

“Ready?” He questioned, catching her staring at him.

“Mhm,” She said quietly, nodding her head as she looked out the windshield and tried to focus on the road ahead of them.

The Boston Opera House was stunning. Jordynne had only ever walked passed it. Ethan let out a quiet chuckle as she looked around them in awe at the large chandeliers and gold details lining the ceiling.

She faltered a little as she felt Ethan place his large, warm hand onto the small of her back. “We’re just over here,” He gestured, before guiding her over a set of grand stairs.

The usher waved his arm, showing them into a private box, its walls and two close seats offering an intimate space. A gasp escaped Jordynne as she took in the breathtaking view of the stage. “You didn’t have to get us such fancy seats,”

Ethan chuckled again, “I didn’t. This is my box. It’s always waiting when I need it.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“Wow…,” She looked around herself in awe as she moved towards the chairs,” Thanks so much for letting me come. These are great seats to see the opera for free. I feel so special.”

“No, thank you. I don’t frequently have the opportunity to attend, so I usually donate these.”

She raised her eyebrow at him, “Oh, in that case, I won’t feel special.”

He let out a warm laugh, “You can feel however you wish. I certainly don’t often invite…” He paused,  “Companions to join me.” Ethan kept his hand on the back of Jordynne’s chair as she sat down, his hand brushing across the skin of her shoulder accidentally as he pulled away and sat down next to her. Their shoulders nearly touching.

The lights dimmed and the sounds of the orchestra beginning their overture filled the room. The red curtains pulled back to reveal a starry set. A woman stepped out into the light, her mournful voice filling the room as she began to sing in Italian.

Jordynne clasped her hands on her lap, awestruck as she listened to the beautiful song — but not understanding the words. “I wish I could understand her." She muttered to herself.

Ethan shifted in his chair, leaning into Jordynne as he whispered to her, “That’s Alessandra, a young noblewoman engaged to marry an older man. But she’s in love with Damarion instead.” His face was so close to hers now, his cologne even more intoxicating than it was in the car. “What unknown emotion now fills me? I feel that my whole being is in the grip of love.” Ethan recites the line, translating the mournful, Italian lyrics for her.

“You speak Italian?” Jordynne whispered back, sounding a little breathless.

Even in the dim light, she watched him blush. “I taught myself a little. I’ve also seen this opera to many times to count.”

Ethan continued to narrate the story of the opera — Alessandra dying, Damarion searching the underworld for her until he finds her at last again,  “She won’t go with him. She says he promised her a beautiful life together, but he was nothing but a liar…”

Images of Mrs. Martinez face flashed into her head — and then Annie convulsing in her bed on her first day, the look of horror Dolores gave her during Jordynne’s diagnosis, the little boy as she referred him to oncology. Hot tears started to trickle down her cheeks, the water falling off of her face and onto her hands in her lap.

“Jordynne? Are you alright?” Twisting in his seat, he moved his face towards hers. His eyebrows furrowed in concern as he noticed her cheeks shining wet. He gently moved his thumb across her cheeks, brushing the tears away.

Reaching up, Jordynne grabbed onto his hand, her fingers tentatively brushing against his — asking silent permission. His blue eyes met her green ones in the dark room — his eyes troubled and worried. But he interlaced his fingers with her easily — holding onto her tightly, their hands falling into his lap.

“What happens next?” She asked quietly — she wasn’t sure if she was asking about the opera or them.

Ethan swallowed, thinking. She could hear his breath was a little ragged, nervous in the intimate space. Licking his lips he finally spoke up, “Now, Alessandra is setting Damarion to a task. One to prove himself in the living world…” He continues to speak softly in her ear, describing as Damarion is slain and carried to the underworld, where he is finally reunited with his love among the dead.

Jordynne glanced up at Ethan as the audience bursts into applause and noticed in the light the glimmer of a tear in the corner of his eye. He wiped at it nonchalantly.

Without thinking about it, Jordynne leaned towards him. He turned to look over at her — his eyebrows furrowed as he studied her face. Moving forward, she gently pressed her lips to his. The applause thundered in her ears, but it was drowned out by the pounding of her heart as she felt Ethan kiss her back, deepening the kiss. Their fingers stilled laced together on his lap, his fingers squeezing hers.

“Jordynne…” He pulled away.

“I’m sorry, I—“ She closed her eyes, not wanting to see that look again. The one she was beginning to get all too familiar with. She didn’t want to have this discussion again — it killed her every time. She moved to take her hand back from his, feeling a little resistance as he held onto it for a moment longer until her hand was free. Standing up, she turned her back to him and leaned up against the railing of the private box.

“You know how complicated this is.”

Her body went on alert as she felt him step behind her. Turning around, he wasn’t very far from her — his eyebrows were furrowed in pain and longing, his blue eyes pleading.

“It’s not complicated, Ethan. Not for me.” She admitted, more tears welling up in her eyes, falling easily. Apparently, that’s all she could do today — was cry.

He raised his hand, brushing the lingering tears away from her face once more. Jordynne leaned into the feeling of his fingers on her face, pushing her face into his hand as he cupped her face.

“Dammit, Jordynne —“ His voice broke as his own tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. Moving his hand down, he grabbed onto her chin gently before pulling her face to his.

He kissed her softly, his lips moving over hers gently as his arms wrapped her into him easily. His fingers waved through her blonde hair as she circled her arms around his strong waist, her fingers grabbing onto the fabric of his suit jacket.

Even with the long, drawn-out kisses Jordynne finally felt like she could breathe again — the tightness in her chest suspending at the moment. Her heart thundering, her fingers winding into his clothes — anything to stay like this for as long as she could.

The house lights turning on broke the moment — and the pair pulled away reluctantly. His blue eyes stared at her pink lips hungrily — eyeing how the sensitive skin around her mouth was red from his rough stubble. “Come on, I — I should drive you home.”

The walked closely to his car, arms and fingers gently bumping into each other. It was casual enough, in case they saw someone they knew. But intimate enough for them to cause jolts of electricity to spread throughout Jordynne’s skin every time he touched her.

Ethan opened her door once again, before climbing into the driver’s seat afterward. The pair sat in silence for a moment — he didn’t reach to turn the car on, their seatbelts hanging off the sides of their seats. There was no music or light — they just sat in the silent, dark car — the streetlight from outside sending in a warm glow.

Then, within an instant, the pair turned to each other, pulling one another into the tight space of the car, the lips crashing onto each other once more. Ethan’s trained fingers went into her hair, tangling her blonde waves as he somehow pulled her more into him. Jordynne’s hands were on his chest and around his neck, feeling his warm skin and muscles, his hammering heart that was on pace with hers.

Ethan’s lips were fervent on hers, kissing her harder and deeper than he had in the Opera House. Her finger’s traveled curled around his shirt, knotting in fists as she pulled him against her and he groaned softly.

Jordynne had never wanted anything so bad in her life. Everything about this, about him, was making her mind swirl and heart pound in her chest. His cologne, the smell of his shampoo, his soft, thick curls, his hard muscular chest. How he still tasted like coffee even though it had been hours since he had his last cup. How gentle and tender his kisses could be, and the powerful, deep ones he was giving her now. The dinner jacket he kept in his car. How he opened the door for her. His whispers in her ear as he translated Italian for her.

A sudden knock at the window caused them to freeze. Pulling his mouth away from hers, Ethan looked sheepishly over his shoulder to find a parking attendant with his arms crossed over his chest. The man pointed to his watch and then to the parking sign just in front of them.

“I suddenly feel like a high school senior again,” Ethan said, smiling sheepishly and he started searching in his jacket for his car keys.

The pair burst out laughing, running their hands through their disheveled hair and clothes.

As the engine roared to life, the pair glanced over at each other, noticing their swollen pink lips, their skin flushed and breath still a little ragged. Biting his lip, Ethan turned on the radio and started to drive.

Jordynne stared out the window, watching the city lights blur as Ethan drove down the downtown Boston streets. She rested her head on the glass, closing her eyes and humming along to the song on the radio for a moment — the events of the day finally catching up with her. Her fingers tensed up into a fist as her thoughts started getting the best of her.

She opened her eyes as she felt Ethan’s hand on hers — his fingers working through her fist and relieving the tension. He intertwined his fingers with hers easily before placing their hands onto her lap. Looking down at her hands, she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. Glancing over at Ethan, he was focused on the road — his other hand draped across the steering wheel. His jaw was set though — he was thinking, his eyebrow furrowed just the littlest bit.

As his Mercedes pulled up next to her building, Jordynne gulped. What happens next?

“Is it selfish that I don’t want tonight to end?” She asked quietly.

Ethan’s fingers squeezed around hers, “No… I’m not looking forward to facing reality tomorrow either.”

She reluctantly pulled her hand away from his, searching for her purse at her feet.

“Here, let me walk you to the door.” Ethan moved to take off his seatbelt, but Jordynne stopped him.

“It’s okay.”

“No, I insist—“

“Honestly, it will just make saying goodnight so much harder.” She bit her lip, her eyes lingering on his mouth.

Ethan nodded understandingly. He moved his hand off the steering wheel, gently pushing back a piece of her blonde hair behind her ear. His touch lingered, before moving down her jawline and grabbing her chin. Gently, he pulled her face to his — placing a soft, long kiss on her lips. She only got a moment to kiss him back, before he pulled away.

“Thank you for tonight, Ethan.” She said quietly, her hand grabbing the door handle.

He cleared his throat, a little nervous, “Did it help?”

“Get my mind off Mrs. Martinez? Not really.” When she saw his shoulders deflate, she quickly spoke again. “But I feel better, you know?”

A tender smile spread across his face, “I do. I’ll see you tomorrow, ok? No more guilt.”

“I’ll try.” She played with the hair that Ethan had tucked behind her ear. “Goodnight,” Opening the door, she stepped out into the cool night air. Taking the few steps to her building, she looked back to see Ethan still waiting, peering through the windshield. Unlocking the entryway door, she gave him a small wave before stepping inside. Watching the door close, she saw the black Mercedes speed away.  

Part Fifteen