#after getting initially annoyed because wars was being irresponsible

[skyloftian-nutcase]

An Eventful Night (LU in Healthcare)

More Plot :D

Legend is an unwilling hero, Hyrule nearly has a breakdown when dispatch doesn't get the info right, and Twilight make s a new friend and begins Project Make Wild Like Puppers.

Just a fair warning, Hyrule's section is a little intense but not graphic and it has a good ending.

(AO3 link)

Legend winced as his lower back ached. If he stepped the wrong way, if he reached the wrong way, it would throb annoyingly. He hadn’t thought he’d done anything particularly strenuous at work last night, but he supposed it was all just catching up to him.

Grabbing a heating pad, he headed for the den where he could lay on the floor where the fuzzy carpet was. Enough cushioning to not make it worse, enough firmness to help his back alongside the heat.

Walking into the den, he froze and frowned. “You’re in my spot.”

“But this is the best spot on the floor!”

“Rav, that’s my spot.”

“You wouldn’t kick me out, would you, Mr. Hero? This area is so comfortable—”

Legend groaned, rolling his eyes. “Ugh, fine, just scoot over a little.”

Ravio chirped happily, scooching as minimally as possible and barely leaving any room on the rug for Legend. Sighing heavily, the travel nurse slowly lowered himself down and situated the heating pad under his lower back. The pair laid down beside each other in comfortable silence before Ravio broke it.

"Have you ever thought about how insignificant we are in comparison to the rest of the world?”

“Rav, for heaven’s sake, just let me—”

Legend felt his phone vibrate and he bit back another grumble. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled it out and saw that it was from Warriors. That was enough to make him plop it down on his stomach without reading it. He was already sore and growing steadily more annoyed, he didn’t need whatever sassy remark that irritating soldier could come up with adding to it.

“Well, what I was going to say is, we—you know, we’re so, so tiny in comparison to everything else happening in the world,” Ravio continued thoughtfully, gesturing towards the ceiling with a hand.

“We don’t matter, I get it,” Legend snapped.

Ravio glanced at him, looking concerned. “I wasn’t going to say that. What I was going to say was that despite how small we are, we still make a difference. You do every day, you know.”

Legend side eyed his roommate. “What in the world has gotten into you? Have you been off for a few days?”

Ravio nodded, smiling.

Legend rolled his eyes. “Of course you have. You get way too philosophical when you have time off.”

“Nothing wrong with contemplating things!”

“I’m not a hero, Rav.”

“Of course you are!! You, all the nurses and techs and doctors and physical therapists and respiratory therapists and everyone, you’re all heroes!”

“Is that why you sell my stuff?”

“One does have to make a living—”

“You have a job, Ravio.”

“B-but what if it isn’t enough, you know I need comforts and the world can be so unpredictable and scary—”

Legend’s phone buzzed again. Sighing even more heavily than last time, Legend snatched the blasted object to put it on do not disturb when his eyes caught some of the words in the texts.

—help and I don’t know what—

Furrowing his brow, the travel nurse unlocked his phone to read the messages fully.

hey need a a favor wellaact ually actually maybe more of yeah I need a favor look I might be a liytle tipsyandd cant drive ok hang on swearica n type ha stnadby Ok. Typing slow. Need a drive. Ride Whatever I can’t drive myself an I need help and I don’t know what else to do Don’t want Wind to see me like this pls

Legend stared at the mess of texts. He… what? Why was Warriors drunk texting him of all people? He typed, Can’t you call Time? Or Sky?

Time would fuss Sky would worry Pls Ledge?

Legend frowned. You think I won’t fuss?

You alwayssfuss

His ire flared. I do not!!

LEDGE RIDE PLS

This night couldn’t get any worse. UGH FINE YOU MORON JUST TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE

As Warriors started typing, Legend sat up, hissing as his back protested. Ravio looked at him confusedly. “Where are you going?”

“I have to pick up an idiot,” he answered, heading for the front door where the jackets and shoes were. He could just go in his pajamas, it wasn’t like he was getting out of the car, anyway. When Warriors finally replied, he looked up the address…

…And grew steadily more confused. The bar was in the Seer District, where Warriors lived. Why couldn’t he just call a taxi, or maybe even walk?

Shaking his head, Legend hopped in the car and drove to the location. He texted Warriors and saw the door to the bar open.

His friend stumbled a little as he stepped out, but he steadied himself. Smiling at the car, he nearly fell into the door, making Legend jump, before he opened it and laughed. “Hey, Ledge!”

Legend tossed a few items into the back so the passenger seat was clear. “Get in, idiot.”

Warriors climbed in with as much grace as a newly born foal, hitting his head while doing so. It was honestly so sad it almost made Legend feel bad for him.

Almost.

“Thanks, man,” Wars slurred, slouching in the seat.

Legend waited a moment and then said, “Close the door.”

Warriors managed to latch his fingers around the handle by the third try and slammed it shut.

“Buckle up.”

The nurse spent another minute fumbling with the seat belt before Legend finally snatched it out of his hands and locked it in place.

“Now, where are we going? What’s your address?”

Warriors stared off into space, body language weary all of a sudden. “Anywhere.”

Legend grew even more bewildered. “What?”

“Anywhere,” Warriors repeated. “I don’t give a shit. Nowhere. The woods. A shelter. Anywhere.”

“Wars, your address—”

“I don’t wanna go home.”

Legend was about to argue, growing agitated, when Warriors rolled his head to the side to look at him. His drunken cheer from earlier was gone, and his exhaustion was more evident than ever. His eyes, usually sharp and analytical, were dark and dull.

“Ledge, I don’ wanna go home,” he said.

“What about Wind?” Legend asked hesitantly.

“I told’im I was working.”

Legend’s chest tightened. Warriors wouldn’t lie to Wind just to go out drinking. Something was genuinely wrong.

Sighing, he made a decision and put the car in drive, wordlessly getting back on the road as his mind went through different scenarios over what was happening. Warriors slouched more in the seat, staring ahead. When they finally slipped into a parking space, his friend looked around, disoriented. “Where…?”

“We’re at my place,” Legend answered. “Come on.”

Legend exited the car without any more explanation, taking a deep, steadying breath and heading for the door that led to the stairwell. He paused, reconsidered, and headed for the elevator instead just as Warriors stumbled out of the car. The travel nurse grabbed his hand and guided him into the elevator. Both were silent until Warriors gasped just as they reached Legend’s floor.

“You’re a real one,” Warriors giggled, leaning heavily on Legend and ruffling his hair. “Thanks.”

Legend snarled, shoving him off and then yelping and grabbing Warriors as he almost fell in the opposite direction. “Just shut up and walk, good grief.”

The pair reached Legend’s apartment, and he promptly dragged Warriors to the den. He gave Ravio a quick gruff, “Move,” and stomped across the room as his roommate squeaked and scurried out of the way. Warriors stumbled to the sofa and promptly collapsed onto it.

Sighing heavily, Legend went to the kitchen, grabbed a glass of water, a bottle of Tylenol, and a trash can. When he returned to the sofa Warriors was staring at the ceiling, his brow crinkled together.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled as the travel nurse approached him.

Legend paused a moment, exasperation temporarily forgotten, and then slowly put the items down on the table beside the couch. “Just go to sleep, Wars. And… and if you want to talk about what caused this… you know, when you’re sober…”

Warriors squeezed his eyes closed and turned away.

“…Or not,” Legend muttered, unsure what else to say. This had never been his strong suit. “Well, either way. Get some sleep.”

Grabbing a blanket, Legend tossed it over Warriors, making sure his friend was warm, and then went to his bedroom, shrugging when Ravio threw him a curious glance.

XXX

Hyrule bit his lip to hold back his laughter as he watched an entertaining video on his phone. His legs swung out carelessly in front of him, blowing off what little nervous energy he had reserved in him, a byproduct of being on call waiting for dispatch to send them to an emergency. On either side of him, seated in chairs and working on the computers provided for reports, were Dawn and Aurora, while Mo relaxed in a chair by the doorway. Scooting a little farther onto the table he was sitting on, he finally let out a laugh as he got a text from Mo with an edited picture of Aurora making an exasperated face.

Before he could have a chance to explain his outburst to the girls, the tones dropped and dispatch blared overhead: “Rescue 18, Medic 1896 respond to 89 Kawa Circle for difficulty breathing.”

Hyrule playfully shoved Mo as they headed towards the ambulance. “You can’t just send me stuff like that when Aurora’s right there, you jerk.”

Mo laughed as he hopped into the driver’s seat. “It was worth it for the look on your face.”

Rolling his eyes, the paramedic grabbed the mic and keyed up. “ECC, Medic 1896 responding.”

“Medic 1896, you’re responding at 2329 for a 21-year-old male patient with a trach who is ventilator dependent – family stated they were swapping out trachs and were unable to place the new one and are now bagging the patient.”

Hyrule’s cheer immediately drained out of him as Mo muttered a curse under his breath. Well… that escalated quickly. He started going through different scenarios and wondering how in the world he was even supposed to handle this. A patient with a trach was a patient with a surgical airway, which already put them far out of his scope of practice. He knew how to suction such an airway, he knew how to make those airways, but that was about all he could do. Placing a new trach into the airway? That was not in his training.

But it was in the family’s training. If he could just guide them to put a new trach in then that should resolve the issue. The reason this patient was having difficulty breathing was because he lost his connection to the ventilator.

As Hyrule went through all of this in his mind, Mo managed to pull up to the house, catching the medic off guard. He supposed it hadn’t been too far from the station. The fire department had already arrived and were inside; neither Hyrule nor Mo had heard a peep from them after their initial radio traffic indicating they’d gotten there.

“Well, fire isn’t saying anything drastic so it can’t be that bad,” Mo remarked as the pair hopped out of the ambulance, not bothering to take in equipment since the fire department would have already done so.

Hyrule hummed in acknowledgement, pushing the front door open and immediately his eyes fell on a group of firefighters huddled around each other on the ground. Hyrule squinted, looking to see what they were doing, wondering why they were in a circle on the floor when there was clearly no young man lying in their midst.

And then he saw it.

They were huddled around a baby.

Hyrule’s heart and mind stopped together, the world freezing around him, and his veins filled with ice.

Dispatch had gotten the age wrong. This wasn’t a twenty-one-year-old.

It was a twenty-one-month-old baby.

Hyrule found himself floundering, struggling to reorient his mind, having expected something completely different and not prepared for this scenario. He leaned over the firefighters and tried to ask what was going on, but it was apparent they were mentally scrambling as much as he was, and they told him nothing. He heard them speaking to each other about the baby’s heart rate lowering, which was an extremely ominous sign that the baby was about to going into cardiac arrest.

Oh, fuck. We’re about to code a baby.

Hyrule turned and immediately headed for the ambulance to grab more supplies, his mind whirling as he tried to run the protocol of pediatric cardiac arrest, as he tried to accept the fact that this child was about to die because he couldn’t breathe.

By the time the medic got back to the house, however, one of the firefighters met him outside. “The parents got the trach back in and they’re putting him back on the ventilator.”

Immediate relief slammed into Hyrule. That was the treatment the baby needed, the one thing he couldn’t provide. He threw up a quick thank you to the sky and saw Mo coming outside carrying the baby while another firefighter carried the portable ventilator just beside him. Hyrule did a quick assessment, much happier with how the baby looked – the little one was perking up quickly, recovering from his hypoxia. The parents followed next, and Hyrule talked to them briefly to get a sense of what had happened while the others settled the infant into a pediatric harness on the stretcher.

Once the baby was secure, Hyrule and Mo got vital signs and were both satisfied with what they saw. Hyrule gave a thumbs up to his partner and everyone else except for the baby, Hyrule, and the father stepped out as they headed to the hospital.

The trip was blessedly uneventful, with Hyrule trying to reassure the panic stricken father and keeping a close eye on the baby. Once they reached the hospital and transferred care, however, Hyrule and Mo both entered the EMS room and waited for the door to close before immediately yelling at the same time.

“What the fuck!” Hyrule threw his hands on the air. “Dispatch said twenty-one-year-old—”

“That was not what I was expecting to walk into—”

“And fire was saying fucking nothing—”

“Oh my gosh that was a disaster—”

“Why were they even doing a trach swap at freaking midnight—”

“Why the hell couldn’t dispatch get the age right—”

The pair panted for air, staring at each other, and then sighed heavily, leaning against the wall.

“Drinks after the shift?” Mo asked.

“Drinks after the shift,” Hyrule agreed.

XXX

Twilight squirmed once more, twisting around in the bed to no avail. He had a day shift tomorrow but he’d only just gotten off night shifts with one day break in between to reset his sleep cycle and it wasn’t working. It was almost midnight; he’d have to wake up in five hours as it was, he had to get some sleep.

Good grief he missed EMS. At least with the squad he could self-schedule and just stick to a consistent routine.

The thought process cut itself off hastily as his mind wandered to other aspects of his former career and he twisted sharply in the bed once more. Wild was fast asleep in the bed across from him, snoring softly.

At least someone was going to be well rested before work.

A noise caught Twilight’s attention, making him stiffen. It sounded like someone was sifting through trash outside the room. Their motel wasn’t exactly in the safest part of town, and Twilight immediately stiffened, slowly reaching for the pocketknife on the nightstand. As the noise continued, he crept out of bed, peering between the blinds, unsure what he was going to see.

There was no silhouette of a person, and Twilight squinted, glancing downward, and then he gasped.

Hastening to the door, he opened it gently so as not to startle the source of the noise. As he poked his head out ever-so-slightly, the black puppy froze in place, ears peeling back as it grew anxious.

“Hi baby,” he said softly, crouching down so he was at eye level with the little ball of fluff. “Where’s your home?”

The puppy watched him uneasily, its tail swishing slightly in a hesitant greeting. It stumbled towards him with uncoordinated steps, sniffing with its wet little nose. Once it got close enough it started sniffing Twilight’s face and neck, making him giggle. His response excited the puppy, who only sniffed him more and started to lick his face as he outright laughed and fell onto the ground, overwhelmed with puppy kisses.

“Twi, what in the world…?” Wild blearily asked from his bed before growing silent.

“Come on, buddy, let’s get you some food,” Twilight said as he scooped up the little puppy, who grew still in his hold. Closing the door and locking it once more, he turned to see Wild staring at him in bewilderment.

“You brought it inside?” Wild asked.

“Of course I brought him inside, he’s starving,” Twilight insisted. “Aren’t you, buddy?”

Wild sighed, laying back down and closing his eyes. “Just don’t put him on my bed, I don’t want him making a mess on me.”

Twilight nuzzled the puppy with his cheek. “That means I get all the puppy kisses to myself.”

“And the fleas, probably.”

Twilight paused in mid chuckle, his stomach squirming a little. Ah. Yes. There was that. Then he shook his head. “It’s okay. We’ll get him all cleaned up.” “We?”

Twilight rolled his eyes. “All right, all right, I’ll get him all cleaned up. Can’t sleep anyway. What are we gonna call you, little guy?”

Wild groaned. “We’re not actually keeping him, are we?”

“Of course we are! Where else would he go?”

“A shelter?”

“He’s a baby!”

“He’s a feral puppy. Might as well be a wolf, you don’t just adopt those—”

Twilight gasped in delight. “Wolfie! That’s great, thanks Wild.”

Wild’s mouth became a thin line and then he turned the other way with a defeated sigh. “You’re welcome. Good night.”

[behindheremeraldeyes]

sasusaku month 20

day 3- sleeping soundly

title: power nap

summary: every Tuesday, both Sasuke and Sakura go out for lunch during her break at the hospital. It’s a sacred tradition between them, but what happens when she’s too tired to even walk?

a/n: I tried to make a very cute pic this time so they could take a break from all the stress of being a ninja hahaha I have to admit that this theme made me want to miss the time when I could take more naps, and perhaps, I should start taking them whenever I can XD As always, I hope you enjoy this one! Have fun! PS: This story is still un-beta'd. My beta-reader is quite busy lately and she didn't have time for proofreading this one yet. Sorry for the mistakes you're gonna find!

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Rated K

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According to the big clock displayed above the central desk of the hospital reception, Sasuke had arrived just in time for her break. It was Tuesday, and just like every week, it was the day of their weekly lunch. He was on time, as always, and for some of the staff already knew what he was doing there, it wasn’t unusual for some nurses to look at him and whisper something to each other. Some would even giggle, eventually, and when they did, the Uchiha couldn’t help but wonder if seeing two people going out for lunch together was really that amusing.

It really was just lunch, after all.

A couple of months before, Sakura had been the one who had first created that tradition between them, saying it would be a nice chance for them to bond, and even if he liked to believe they didn’t really need an official reason to meet, the Uchiha eventually decided to play along. Every week since then, she would normally be waiting for him in front of the hospital reception, and as soon as their eyes met, she would greet him joyful before they could go find a place to eat. They would spend some time together, just the two of them, chatting while enjoying a nice and peaceful meal until her break was over. He would walk her back to the hospital, then, and he wouldn’t cordially wait until he made sure she was already inside.

Those were their Tuesdays. Simple, comfortable and consistent. 

They had fallen into that delicate and domestic routine, and it didn’t take long before he grew fond of that unaltered part of his new life. He enjoyed those moments to the point where he would sometimes catch himself growing excited for their weekly encounter and lose a couple of hours of sleep because of that.

Tuesdays had become really great days, for sure. 

And as soon as he saw her smiling, small figure talking to an old lady, he realized they were about to have another good day just the two of them.

When her green eyes made contact with his mismatched ones, a brighter smile lit up on her face and it didn’t take long before she excused herself from what seemed to be just a civilian wanting to chat. Ever since he returned to Konoha, Sasuke realized the pinkette had become quite popular among the elderly, and it wasn’t unusual for them to greet her with a wrinkled smile whenever they saw her on the streets. She would always treat them nicely, he realized, and perhaps that was the reason why they all liked her so much.

She walked up to him, then, yawning deeply as her heels clicked across the hospital reception. Now that she was standing closer, his eyes could see that she seemed to be a bit tired, her eyelids looking too heavy as they threatened to cover her eyes completely. There were dark circles around her eyes, and her breathing pattern was calm and slow. 

Apparently, someone had had a rough day.

“Hey there—” She started, but her words were cut by another yawn that escaped her lips. The back of her right hand went to cover her mouth, and she blinked twice before fully opening her eyes. “—Sasuke-kun.”

“You look tired.” He said, simply, his face unaltered.

She looked at him, lifting her brows in surprise. The pinkette was still not used to how straight-forward he was, but it didn’t take long before her lips curled up. “Is it that evident?”

“Aah.” He agreed. “The dark circles around your eyes are quite big.”

“Ugh.” She pouted, her small hands now touching her face. “I guess not even all that make up could hide them in the end.” She smiled weakly at that, her head tilting to the side.

“Bad day?”

“Not really. It’s just that I got home pretty late last night.” She started, and soon they were walking towards the exit of the building. She stretched her arms above her head, moving her shoulders in order to relax her muscles a bit. "That mission took a little longer than I had initially expected and I didn’t really have much time to sleep.”

“Oh, I see.” He nodded in understatement, remembering she had, indeed, talked about a mission Kakashi had selected her for. If he recalled it correctly, she had been sent to Amegakure so she could help the new governors establish a new health care system based on medical ninjas. It was something the Shinobi Alliance had decided to do together, and though it would cost her many days of going back and forth to the village hidden in the rain, Sakura seemed very excited about the outcome. “At what time did you get back?”

“I think it was around 2am or something like that… I just know Kakashi-sensei wasn’t there when I went to his office to report back.”

“2am?!” He sounded surprised, his brows arching at her words. No wonder why she looked that tired. “And at what time did your shift at the hospital started today?”

“My shift officially began at 7am, but I was already here by 6:30am. I had an important surgery scheduled so I came in earlier to prepare everything.”

His dark eyes grew wider now, and suddenly, he stopped walking. Sakura couldn’t really be serious at that moment. She was basically telling him that she had returned to the village from a long trip around 2 in the morning, and instead of taking at least the morning off, she was already up before 6am and operating at 7am.

Normal people shouldn’t push themselves that hard. 

She had definitely spent way too much time alone with Naruto, he thought.

“You've barely slept, Sakura.”

“I know…” She said, yawning once more. “I'll get some sleep when I get home.”

“And at what time will that be?”

“It won’t take long. Probably around 7pm.” Her voice came out softly and an innocent tone lingered to it. Her eyes held no malice, and at that moment, he really thought she was even worse than the Dobe.

Maybe she had hit her it during the war or maybe it happened during her time spent training with her master, because there had to be something really wrong with that girl’s head. At that moment, she was barely being able to hold herself up, yawning every three seconds, and yet, there she was, all smiles on her face as she was ready to go out with him for lunch. Even knowing about that mission at least 1 week before she had to go, Sakura had decided that it would be okay to sign in for a 12h shift at the hospital the day after she got back. Couldn't she just haven been a decent person and allow herself to get some proper hours of sleep at least once? 

Apparently, the answer was a big, irresponsible and tired no.

Perhaps, he wasn’t the only one who needed to have some sense knocked into him. 

A couple of seconds went by until the pinkette finally realized the Uchiha had stopped in his tracks. She turned around, then, her heels also stopping, as her green eyes were now looking at him with a confused expression. She tilted her pink head to the left, her lips pressed in a thin line. “Why did you stop, Sasuke-kun?”

“Sakura…” He stopped talking, his mind still trying to think about his next words. He knew he had to be helpful without sounding rude, but he could feel an urge to call her annoying running through his veins. Even if he really hated the idea of ruining their little routine, the Uchiha knew better than to believe she didn’t have more pressing needs at that moment. “Do you still have a couch in your office?”

“Yes, I do. Why?”

“Hn.” He nodded, his hand now hiding inside the pocket of his dark pants. “Go back upstairs then and try to get some sleep. You still have most of your lunch break.”

“What?” Her eyes widened and she unconsciously approached him. At that moment, her confused expression melted into a childish pout, and he would be lying if he said that face didn’t make him feel a bit moved. “What about our lunch?”

“We can just reschedule. You need to get some rest if you want to last until 7pm.”

“This is ridiculous, Sasuke-kun. I’m fine. I’m a bit sleepy, sure, but I’m also hungry. Come on, it’s Tuesday…”

The way she was batting her eyelashes at him made his heart skip a beat. Even if her current appearance was affected by her lack of sleep, Sakura still held traces of the cute girl she has always been, and like before, it was still hard for him to say 'no' to her. She had always known how to be pretty convincing around him, and at that moment, even if he knew she could use a power nap— or any kind of nap, for the matter— it was still hard for him to simply give up on their lunch.

It felt selfish of him— futile, even, because, really, it was just lunch— but he really wanted to go out with her so they could spend some time together. They had a lot of catching up to do, and even if he would mostly just listen to her while she talked about something that had happened at the hospital or at her missions, it was always great to see her looking that happy.

After everything that had happened in the past 3 years, Sakura needed happy times in her life. Both of them did. And if their happy could be achieved by doing something so trivial as going out for lunch, then it was worth fighting for it.

However, if she could use that time in order to recover from a tiring mission, how could he deny her such thing?

“You really need to sleep, Sakura.” His voice came out firm and with no hesitation. His eyes were locked with hers, and there was no sign in him that indicated that he would back off from his decision. “It will be good for you if you can rest a little.”

“But—“

“No ‘but's. You look like you were hit by a boulder and we both know how distracted you get when you’re sleepy.”

Her lips parted at his statement, but no words came out from her mouth. Even if she wanted to answer him that she was fine and that she wasn’t really that sleepy, they both knew it would be useless. The Uchiha, if anything, is as stubborn as his blonde best friend, and at that moment, he wouldn’t simply be convinced by her white lies.

A soft smile crossed her lips, then, and she shyly looked down for a bit before her glance returned to his eyes. Her hands were now hiding behind her back, and she bit her lower lip before deciding to talk again. “I bet every girl would love to hear such delicate words regarding her looks.”

“Tch." He scoffed. “You know what I meant.”

“Yeah, I’m just messing with you.” She giggled, softly. “Are you sure it’s really okay?”

“It is, don’t worry. Try to get some sleep and I’ll go fetch you something to eat.”

“What?” She asked, confused, her sleepy head clearly not working well anymore.

“I'll go out and bring you some food. You weren’t really thinking about skipping lunch, were you, Sakura?”

“… Of course not.” She said, looking away from his judging stare. Sakura was clearly lying— or, at least, trying to— and if not for her need to sleep, he would’ve certainly scolded her for being that irresponsible. 

Maybe next time, he thought.

“Hn, yeah, right…” He nodded, his eyes closing before he could start his way towards the exit. Their shoulders brushed as he walked past her, and though he knew she wanted to follow him, he was glad she didn’t. “I’ll be back soon with your food.”

“Fine.” She said, stretching the first syllable. “Next week lunch will be on me, then!”

“Aah.” He agreed, as he continued his way across the room.

“Oh, and Sasuke-kun!” She called his name, and immediately, he turned his head to look at her. She was smiling now, her arms crossed across her chest. “Don't forget to bring your food, too! We can still eat together in my office, right?” The cheerfulness lingering in her voice made his chest feel warmer, and even though her eyes were surrendering to her exhaustion, she still looked quite happy to have found a way for them to be together for lunch. She was smiling softly at him, and even if he had initially planned on bringing her food and leaving her to rest, Sakura had just convinced him to stay. With her joyful features and her sleepy expression, she had just managed to save their beloved tradition. 

It should be okay if he stayed for just a little, right? Just until she could finish her lunch, and then he would be gone. Yes, it would certainly be okay.

“I guess we can. I’ll meet you there.”

“Hai!” She said, and he began walking again. “I’ll leave the window open for you!"

At her words, his lips formed a soft smirk as he finally exited the hospital. Though she would normally tell both him and Naruto not to invade her office through the window, on that day, Sakura figured it would be easier like that. His ears captured the sound of her heels clicking as she turned back, and he just hoped she could get some sleep before he returned with their food.

It was going to be a different Tuesday, for sure, but he figured it should be okay as long as they could be together in the end.

–––––––––

Though there weren't many people in the small restaurant down the hospital street, Sasuke made sure to take his time before ordering so she could have some more sleeping time. With his eyes always checking the clock, the raven haired boy made sure to calculate a decent amount of time— given the circumstances, of course— for her to sleep and eat properly before going back to work.

For they have gone eating together multiple times already, he knew about her taste for vegetables and something lighter for lunch, choosing to order her the special salmon with a bittersweet sauce that was made of honey, rice vinegar and soy sauce. It was a very popular dish according to the guy who worked there, and he hoped she would like his choice.

The food inside the take-out bag was still hot by the time he reached the hospital, and he made sure not to waste a single moment before climbing up the walls to her office. His chakra-coated sandals helped him make his way up, and in no time, he was at her window, which had been left open for him. He was very careful while entering, making sure not to bump on any of her belongings. As always, her office was filled with piles of papers and medical books, and he wondered how she even managed to find anything in the middle of that mess.

Once he was completely inside, his eyes wasted no time before they could start their search for her, and quickly, they found her small and delicate figure still asleep on the couch. She was sleeping soundly, her shallow breaths escaping her slightly parted lips in a smooth rhythm. Her chest was going up and down in a slow rhythm, and if he had never seen her breaking large trees with her bare hands, Sasuke would even believe she was just a defenseless and powerless girl.

Sakura looked really peaceful like that, he thought, as he looked at her with softness in his eyes. She was so calm and tranquil, clearly too busy sleeping to even notice his sudden presence in the room. Back when they were younger and they had to camp outside during their missions, she would always wake up at the slightest noises, but at that moment, he doubted she would wake up unless he literally shook her awake.

She was really tired, for sure. She was all curled up on her couch, her head resting against a crumpled jacket that was serving as a pillow for the moment. Her pink locks were falling forward, covering the seal on her forehead, and there was a small pout decorating her rosy lips. 

Though he has never been the most sensitive person out there, it was undeniable that Sakura looked incredibly cute. His eyes— even if he was probably unaware— looked at her affectionately, and suddenly, a mix of tenderness and empathy coursed through him, and he had to hold back the urge to move her pink locks from her soft face.

He didn’t want anything to disturb her at that moment. She deserved those minutes of pristine silence, and he would do everything he could in order to protect them. After seeing her like that, it didn’t take long for the Uchiha to decide not to wake her up to eat, choosing, instead, to leave her food there so she could eat it later that day. 

The salmon would turn cold, sure, but he figured that she could heat it some other time.

A soft smile took over his lips, and slowly, he made his way towards the couch where she was sleeping. For it was a chilly afternoon, he took his dark coat off, covering her small body in order to keep her warm. The piece of fabric weighted over her small figure, and he watched as she tugged it closer to her with a comfortable expression on her face. After that, the Uchiha found a spot next to her, and since they had decided that they would eat together, he believed that it would be okay if he just ate his lunch there, by her side before it also turned cold.

Slowly and carefully not to wake her up, he fished his sandwich from the paper bag, taking a bite from it and allowing the tomato, the cheese and the basil to mix inside his mouth. The sandwich tasted very good, indeed. It was just a simple thing anyone could prepare, but it still tasted pretty special for him. His eyes would eventually drift from his lunch to her sleepy, little head; and even if her small breaths were the only sounds filling the room, Sasuke couldn’t simply find the words to describe how domestic and pure that whole thing felt.

It felt so casual and intimate, in a way he hadn’t felt in years. His heart skipped a beat at the thought, bringing a shy smile to his lips, and he mentally thanked her for bringing back that innocence to his life. As the months went by, he realized how much that girl alone could do for him— even when she was doing nothing more than sleeping by his side— and he wondered how many other things could she bring into his new life if he just allowed her to.

In a matter of weeks, Sakura had turned his Tuesdays into pleasurable days, and now, he wondered what else could she do were she to take care of the rest of his week.

A sigh escaped his lips, and quickly, he brushed that thought away. After a couple of minutes, he had finally finished his sandwich, satisfied with his pleasurable lunch, and slowly, he allowed his head to fall back a little so he could rest it against the couch. He closed his eyes, for an instance, solely paying attention to the sound of her breaths, lulling him into a moment of pure bliss.

His head was feeling lighter, his breath was matching hers, and suddenly, he felt an odd warmth against his leg. It caught him by surprise, at first, but it didn’t take long before his body grew used to that small contact between them. A feeling of calmness invaded his body at that moment, and soon, he emptied his mind from whatever bad thought could even dare disturb that moment. He felt his conscious slipping from his grip, then, knowing very well what would happen if he just let it go. 

He was going to fall asleep, he knew. He was going to fall asleep on a couch by her side, and even if that would probably be something hard to explain once they both woke up, Sasuke couldn’t find it in himself to care. 

It felt too good. It felt right and even if he had had a good night of sleep himself, he figured he could allow himself to rest for a bit. 

It was just a nap after lunch, after all. Was it really such a bad idea?

No. At least not at that moment. Not on that odd, yet ordinary, Tuesday.

fin.

[ao3gingerswag]

An old class have just hijacked an old Teams lesson from last year to use the chat for a gif war. It's kind of sweet, but it's almost midnight and they are 11year olds. I've just had to tell them all to go to bed like I'm Professor McGonagall. I tell you this because a) I get your teacher posts and b) I can imagine Cas being the same with Sam of "I know you are going to ignore my sound life advice and continue being sweet/annoying Dean but you really need to sleep now before you get grumpy"

dtcfvhgjbkn thats so funny and cute!!!!!!! 11 year olds go to bed u babies omg!! yes tho thats soooooo tru sam def stays up initially protecting dean but eventually just goofing around with him....usually dean has always been very good about putting sam to bed on time bc in the past sam never got enough sleep so dean always wanted him to get as much as possible....i love the idea tho of them, as they settle into being safe, becoming more like actual brothers, and dean learning to be a little irresponsible and silly just as a normal older brother would be. just like chilling with sam and goofing around with him well past his bedtime being like ey its cool im sure it will be fine! *cue next day sam is falling asleep standing up* fyghkjl and cas has to start being like guys...go to sleep. and both of them are like yeah yeah of course! right after we finish this game! right after one more round! one more round! :))) and cas is like aaaahhhhh cfghjbnk

[a-woman-apart]

Sometimes You Just Need a Nap (The Effexor Saga Continues)

So today, I started the day off well. When recording my voice diaries, I started to ramble a lot about how I’ve exceeded my food budget and spent money on medication I couldn’t even use. I was able to course-correct, though, and I came to the realization that my actions were justifiable considering everything that was going on. Also, even if I did make some poor decisions, this did not indicate a pattern of irresponsibility. I could forgive myself for being human and making mistakes. The only reasonable action to take following that realization was to strive to make better choices in the future.

As the morning bled into the afternoon, I started to feel more and more depressed, even though I had made some progress against self-criticism and self-doubt. I wanted to go to the laundry mat today and pick up around the house a little more, but I felt too weak. It was all I could do to go pick-up lunch (the responsible thing to do rather than paying for it to be delivered) eat it, and then collapse back onto the couch and cover myself with a blanket.

When I finally did go to take the nap, my sleep initially seemed fitful. I had strange dreams and thought I was hearing all sorts of noises. I woke up to what sounded like banging on the door, but when I looked out no one was there. I think the neighbors were just being super noisy today. Surprisingly, though, when I was able to get over the strangeness of it all, I realized that I felt so much more refreshed and energized than I had before. I still didn’t have the strength to run any errands, but I felt chipper enough to watch a movie, and so I did.

Sometimes, you just need a nap.

Of course, at the end of the day, I was back to being in an existential crisis. After my terrible experience of withdrawal with Effexor/Venlafaxine, I have decided that I want to take action against the manufacturers of the drug, or at the very least raise greater awareness about the harm that it can cause. If my experience with Effexor were unique to me, I would write it off as bad luck and would not be concerned. However, hearing the testimonials of so many other people who have been hurt by this drug and others like it, I am compelled to take action.

My boyfriend does not fully agree with my taking this course. He points out—rightfully so— that waging a war against a specific drug or class of drugs might be a waste of energy. The entire pharmaceutical industry, he said, was bork. We discussed how doctors are sometimes paid to prescribe medication. This is not to say that no prescribers have their patients’ best interest in mind, but it does mean that what they say needs to be taken with a grain of salt.

My boyfriend also cautioned me against strictly refusing to take a medication just because it falls in a certain category. I assured him that I still believe in medicine compliance but pointed out that the only psych drug that I have taken—as a bipolar patient— that has been more beneficial than harmful over an extended time period has been lithium. Even when things like antidepressants worked, I would have to be switched to a new one because they would not remain effective over time. Invega was wonderful, but the reproductive side effects were so bad that I had to be removed from it. I actually brought up the idea of my not needing antipsychotics for a long time, citing the irregular periods as a harm that I wasn’t sure was good for me to tolerate over the long term. It took me bleeding on/off for 40 days for them to listen to me.

I have now effectively become skeptical of anti-anxiety medication as well, even as my anxiety continues to be a problem. Lithium, on the other hand, has been doing its job. It hasn’t eliminated the symptoms of bipolar disorder (or I wouldn’t be taking other drugs along with it) but I have not had a major depressive episode or a full-blown manic episode since being on the drug.

I told my boyfriend that I did not feel like I should sacrifice my physical health for my mental health. He rightfully said that sometimes you cannot strike that “perfect balance” where your psych medicines do not cause other health problems. I pointed out that it depends on what you are willing to tolerate. I have tolerated weight gain, excessive thirst, and the risks of serious—even life-threatening side effects— so that I can exist at a healthy baseline of functioning. I have actually been very fortunate that I haven’t had to deal with some of the gnarlier side effects, but I’ve had my moments.

On Wellbutrin (taken for depression), my vision was poor enough for me to need to wear glasses to read; I first noticed the vision problems upon taking Wellbutrin but thought that they were exacerbated by a physical problem. Surprise— no more Wellbutrin, no more eye problems. Were the vision changes more annoying that truly harmful? Yes. Would I take Wellbutrin again knowing that they caused that? Nope.

For me, habit-forming drugs and drugs that cause discontinuation syndrome are deal-breakers. Drugs that cause excessive drowsiness that does not go away are deal-breakers. Drugs that cause hypomania/mania are deal-breakers. Drugs that are used to treat anxiety—but may instead cause it—are deal-breakers. Effexor fell in the latter category for me, but because I was using it to treat depression, I was willing to tolerate the slight uptick in my anxiety. This was a mistake. When my psychiatrist implicated it in my mixed mania, it went from a small mistake to a big one. I had always known that antidepressants carried a mania risk if they were used for a long time, but I took the risk. Taking that risk almost ended me in the hospital.

There is also a possibility that the Effexor and the Abilify don’t mix well, because adding that second dose of Abilify fucked with me, too, and was actually a partial catalyst for everything that transpired after that. My psychiatrist both removed the extra Abilify and Effexor at the same time, and that was when my symptoms went from “hard mode” to “nightmare mode.” The rest is history.

Look, I only have one point here. My boyfriend has been on the same antidepressant medication—with excellent results—for years. Antidepressants save lives.

They also take them.

I am not saying that these drugs should not be available. Also, to the manufacturer’s credit—but not that much because they are forced by law to include drug information— if you go to the website and read the boxed warning you can see that there is a warning about discontinuation syndrome. It is true that it is the responsibility of the patient to read the warnings and be informed about the drugs. However, in most pharmacies when you go to fill a prescription, if a drug carries a particular risk, you usually receive consultation regarding how to safely take that drug. In the same way, just as doctors now warn about the risks of suicidality for children and adolescents who take antidepressants, they should be required by law to warn patients about the severity of discontinuation syndrome.

I am not convinced that it is necessary to push for Effexor to be removed from the U.S. market—even though it is already banned in parts of Europe—but I would like to see patients being more informed about what they are putting into their bodies. When you go to a psych doctor, you often trust them to make decisions with your best interest at heart. In my opinion, this is sometimes a misplaced trust. They either are not aware of the consequences of certain medications, or they are deliberately downplaying the side effects of these medications, so you won’t be “too scared” to take them. This is disingenuous and must be stopped.

My boyfriend is concerned for my health, but I assured him that I wasn’t becoming anti-medicine. I know that alternative medicine can be just as bad—if not worse— than traditional western medicine. Depression can often not have a “cause” outside chemical issues in the brain, and if those issues are not first addressed, additional treatment may be ineffective. If a person struggles to get out of bed, exercise, and participate in work, family, and group activities, they may need a “jump start” to at least raise their level of functioning to where they can begin to slowly reintegrate into society and their lives. It’s true that medicine works best when paired with therapy and the use of coping skills, but the most important thing is to get that person well enough to participate in their own recovery. Like I said, too, lithium has been a wonder drug for me. It doesn’t “cure” everything, it just brings me up to where I can handle doing the hard work it takes to maintain a healthy life.

Even lithium, though, is dangerous. It can cause thyroid and kidney problems, so frequent blood tests are required. There is no drug that is risk-free. If I want to get off lithium though, I won’t start sweating, vomiting, and having seizures. Capsule sizes exist in enough variety that I can taper off slowly and safely. I just feel that if withdrawal is at all a concern, that concern should be discussed upfront with the patient. There are no exceptions.

Even though today has been better than a lot of days, I still don’t truly feel like myself. The intermittent gastrointestinal problems and dealing with fatigue are still affecting my day to day life. It’s true, sometimes you just need a nap, but sometimes you also need to be able to trust the people who are involved with your mental health.

I don’t think that’s too much to ask.

[greyias]

FIC: By the Guidance of Stars - Chapter 4

Title: By the Guidance of Stars Fandom: SWTOR Pairing: Theron Shan/f!Jedi Knight Rating: T (this chapter) Genre: Angst, H/C, Romance, Humor Synopsis: The Coalition tries to heal in the aftermath of the Battle of Yavin 4, but not every wound is physical. A series of missing scenes set during the end of Shadow of Revan. Warnings: See Chapter 1.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Crossposted to AO3

As morning wore on, the drizzle eased into a light mist and the camp began to rouse. The mugs of caf had long since been drained and Theron had reluctantly forced himself to begin tackling the mountain of paperwork waiting for him. That afternoon’s unofficial debrief loomed in the back of his mind, and in an effort to distract himself, he’d thrown himself into filling in as many details of the entire Revanite debacle on his official report, starting all the way back to the initial mission on Korriban.

Well. Most of the details. There were some interpersonal things that would not be making their way into an official report. He was only a kiss-and-tell kind of guy when it was part of the official mission log. And this confusing thing he had with a certain Jedi Master was nobody’s business but their own.

Of course, focusing on his paperwork would have been much easier if he didn’t have to keep trying to stop one Doctor Archiban Kimble from second-guessing the excellent care of sneaky medical droids.

“Can’t you just read whatever the droid wrote and let it go?” Theron grumbled. “I have to finish this report.”

“And I have to make sure that all of my hard work on Rishi wasn’t undone last night.”

“It wasn’t.” Theron glowered at him and then pointedly returned his attention to the datapad. “Now go away.”

“Yeah, that’s not going to work this time.”

“What’s not? Speaking Basic?”

“Your overworked slicer schtick. No datapads during medical examinations. Doctor’s orders.”

“Didn’t stop you last time.”

“Yes, well, I made an exception then because my favorite Jedi was about to be blown to smithereens by your grandpa’s cult.”

“It’s a few more generations than just grandfather.”

“Eh, details.” The datapad was deftly plucked from the spy’s hands and stowed inside of of one of the medic’s inner pockets. “You get this back after we’re done.”

“You’ve got nerves of steel, Doc,” Theron warned. “I’ve shot people for less.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” The medic grinned. “I figure I’m safe. A certain Jedi is very fond of me and my untimely death would make her very sad.”

“And what makes you think that would affect my aim?”

The medic arched one dark brow, as if it was obvious. “You seemed pretty concerned earlier from what I saw. Holding hands and everything.”

Theron wasn’t able to suppress the curse that slipped out. It wasn’t exactly a private area they’d been in, but he had hoped everyone had been too busy with their celebrations to notice that unplanned moment. Of course, unplanned moments seemed to be the norm with her rather than the exception.

Not that he had the greatest track record with sticking to a plan — he tended to fly by the seat of his pants at the best of times. But even if he’d wanted to, he never could have accounted for that ridiculous pirate costume she had picked up from a street vendor for her undercover persona. Nor for the way she got drunk during one of Jakarro’s cantina outings—forcing Theron to figure out how to transport a hopelessly inebriated Jedi back to their hideout without either of them getting shivved in a back alleyway. Or the way her grip on him had lingered before she’d left for that last battle on Rishi, practically shouting the order for Doc to stay behind and take care of him.

And actually if Theron thought about it longer, the one consistent factor in all of that had been the medic currently pulling out his scanner so he could begin to examine the chest of his very reluctant patient. As Doc had been the one to help her pick out that stupid outfit, had left an entire pitcher of fruity alcoholic drinks on the table after leaving their team gathering in a snit, and had been just as annoying at insisting on making sure Theron didn’t have any life-threatening internal injuries just like he was now.

The medic let out a quiet chuckle, apparently mistaking the reasoning for the glare pointed in his direction.

“Don’t worry, I made a lot of loud and rousing toasts over in my area of camp. Your aloof reputation is safe amongst the larger crowd.”

“I get the impression that wasn’t for my benefit,” Theron grumbled.

“No, it wasn’t.” Doc narrowed an eyebrow at the tiny screen in front of him, and started to do some more detailed scans over the previously injured area, as if he needed to double-check something. “But if getting a camp of Imperial and Republic troops inebriated in the early hours of the morning is what it takes to get that woman a small moment of peace, I’ll make that sacrifice for the greater good.”

“How magnanimous of you.”

“It’s a heavy burden sometimes, being such a hero.”

“Are you still drunk?”

“Eh, sober enough to look you over.”

“I think I feel safer with the droid.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you are a horrible patient?”

“Probably about as often as you’ve gotten complaints about your bedside manner.”

“You be quiet and let me finish.”

“And if I don’t?”

“I’ll call your mother over here.” Doc grinned.

“I swear I’m changing my last name when I get back to Republic space,” Theron muttered darkly.

“I’ll still know.”

“Two can play at that game, Archiban.”

Doc shot him a dirty look, but returned to fiddling with his scanner. “Look, I know you’ve got your own reasons, but still… thanks for looking out for her.”

Theron indeed had his own reasons, but much to his chagrin, none of them seemed to stem from anything remotely resembling reason. Of course, he hadn’t really ever been accused of being the most logical agent in SIS. However, there was no way he was admitting that aloud. “I get the impression that you and your crew have been through a lot.”

“Some of us more than others,” Doc muttered darkly.

“Yeah.” Theron pursed his lips. “Got that impression too.”

Considering Grey’s reaction earlier, that was putting it mildly. He was regretting not having figured out what had been redacted before they had gotten to this point—and before he’d made a promise to not pry. Of course, that six month gap had nearly put him off selecting her for the Korriban mission completely. If he’d done that, then he wouldn’t currently have to be listening to Doc ramble on. Of course, then he wouldn’t have met her either.

Something inside his chest twisted. It was probably because he’d been an idiot and had drank too much caf this morning instead of having a real breakfast. He probably needed to find something more substantial before the debrief this afternoon. Or maybe he could just choke a ration bar down as he didn’t really have much of an appetite at the moment.

Doc gave him a funny look, almost as if he’d been reading the spy’s inner thoughts. Theron didn’t really want to get a lecture on his poor diet on top of everything else this morning, so he just glared at the ground instead.

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask.”

“I might be a spy,” he ground out, “but I can respect boundaries. I’m not going to force her to relive anything just to satisfy my curiosity.”

“While I appreciate the gesture,” Doc said quietly, “I think things are going to come to a head sooner or later, whether or not you ask anything.”

Theron glared at the ground, not sure what to make of the internal war raging inside of his gut. “She’s still got you and the rest of your crew. Should be enough, right?”

The medic let out a sad sigh and shook his head, but didn’t say anything else on the subject. There wasn’t much to say, Theron had already made a promise not to pry, and he wasn’t about to go back on that. Keeping promises wasn’t exactly something most people in his line of work did. Although this wasn’t work. This was… it was…

It was none of his damn business is what it was.

And he knew that. Despite his chosen profession, there were some lessons from his childhood he’d had a hard time shaking off. A lot of adjustments—sacrifices even—had to be made in order to get the mission done, because that served a higher purpose in a way he couldn’t with his natural born talents, or lack thereof. It was often a struggle to be the person that Ngani Zho had raised him to be, and beyond just that, he wanted to be a man of his word. At least with the important people.

And she was... yeah. She was one of them.

It took a lot to get under his skin, but that little Jedi had managed it quite effectively. And despite his best efforts, he was just along for the ride at this point, that much was clear.

“Well,” Doc said, barely managing to keep irritation from bleeding into his tone, “looks like between my wonderful skills as a medic, a little help from the Grand Master, and that barely adequate droid, you’re going to be just fine.”

“I already told you that,” Theron said, his own frustration mounting. “If you had just believed me then we could have avoided this whole awkward conversation.”

“Yeah, well,” Doc said lightly, stowing his medical scanner, “I had to be sure. It would be irresponsible of me if I didn’t ensure that you were in peak physical condition before taking on any… strenuous activity.”

The insinuation on what the medic thought of Theron’s intentions was all too clear, and he couldn’t help but snarl. “That is none of your damn business.”

“I’m just looking out for your welfare,” Doc grinned. “You wouldn’t want to sprain anything. That would definitely kill the mood.”

“I am not having this conversation with you.”

“I assume you know all about using protection—“

“Give me my datapad!”

“And I expect you to behave like a proper gentleman.”

Theron’s hand curled into a fist, and it took all of his effort to keep it down at his side. “Now.”

Doc sighed dramatically, but pulled out the requested device with dramatic flair. “Fine, fine.”

The spy snatched the device and started to move away from the medic with a quickness.

“Oh, and Theron?”

“What?” he tossed over his shoulder, not bothering to hide his frustration and not slowing his hasty retreat in the slightest.

“I meant what I said back on Rishi.” The joviality had faded from Doc’s tone, leaving behind a steel certainty. “I know every way to cleanly break any bone in the body. I would keep that in mind if I were you.”

“You threatening me?”

“Only if you hurt her.”

“You and Scourge should form a club.”

“Not my first choice, but I’ll consider it. If it comes to that.”

Theron beat a quick retreat to the safety of one of the private tents before he could be pulled back into anything resembling conversation with the medic. He had no desire to hear any more advice on his love life. Or hear about the ways in which he would be maimed if things didn’t somehow go according to Doc’s outdated notions of romance. For possibly the first time in his career, Theron couldn’t wait to get lost in the minutiae of the Republic’s endless trail of paperwork.

Next Chapter

[yearsblog]

t’s 11am in a slightly dilapidated rehearsal room on a King’s Cross side street, and I can just about overhear a discussion in which Dominic Boyce, the affable drummer of psychedelic indie-pop troupe Peace, is considering returning a recently purchased pair of vegan sandals. “In hindsight, maybe I should keep them and commit to it,” he says at one point. “Maybe they’d be good for Glastonbury. Give the people what they want.”

Today, Boyce is joined by a speedily assembled who’s who – quite literally in some cases – of indie, rehearsing for Wednesday night’s NME awards, where they will perform the Rolling Stones’ Gimme Shelter, and Buffalo Springfield’s For What It’s Worth. Rallied by the NME, the group will be joined on the night by Charli XCX, who right now is somewhere over the Atlantic, but today consists of Boyce and Sam and Harry Koisser from Peace, Olly Alexander from Years & Years, Pixie Geldof, Isaac Holman from Slaves, Izzy Baxter from Black Honey, Austin Williams and Cavan McCarthy from Swim Deep, and Joe Falconer from Circa Waves.

While you may not be overly familiar with each act’s entire back catalogue, everyone in the room today is very committed to raising money for refugees, and that’s a positive and wonderful thing. The plan is that anyone watching the performance online – or reading an article about its rehearsal – can text REFU to 70700 to donate £5 to the British charity Help Refugees. It’s the sort of thing that routinely prompts a kneejerk sneer, but it’s a simple and effective move and knees can’t sneer anyway because of biology. The morning moves slowly with dramatic highlights including a broken keyboard stand, a leaking battery, Harry Koisser being unable to see the colour red, and an absence of maracas. At one point, Baxter is handed a red, gold and green guitar strap. “I’m too white to wear that,” she observes, although it’s fair to say this is one room in London where it’s impossible to be too white for anything.

After a run-through of the songs and lunch in the pizza place across the road, we’re joined by the NME editor, Mike Williams, who has turned up to check on progress. I ask him whether this whole supergroup business might be better with a few more famous people.

“That’s a bit of a mean question,” he says. “We haven’t even approached the Dave Grohls and Lady Gagas of this world – we wanted it to be in the spirit of what Bands 4 Refugees were already doing. It wouldn’t have been right for NME to storm in and swap them out for big American artists.”

Asked to clarify the message that he’s hoping to send out by drawing awareness to the refugee crisis during the NME awards, Williams adds: “Politicians and people with influential voices are being irresponsible with their words and changing the views of otherwise decent people. There’s a negative and demonised view of vulnerable people not that different from us who have been badly affected by wars and terror attacks. We want to show a bit of the reality.”

It’s cheering – but also a bit of a rum old do – that in the current climate, the first major creative statement from the global music community has come in the form of the new Katy Perry single, Chained to the Rhythm, a song about echo chambers and numbness that she has described as “purposeful pop”. But isn’t it also frustrating that the best song choices for Wednesday night’s show are both more than 50 years old?

“A song like Gimme Shelter is incredibly powerful and the message will resonate with everyone in the room on the night and watching on Facebook Live,” Williams says. “That said, bands have told me in the past they don’t want to speak out because the internet is so unforgiving, but it feels like people have got to get over that now.”

Alexander chooses his words either far more carefully or far less carefully, depending on how you look at it. “The message I’d give Theresa May is that she should resign and take her entire cabinet with her,” he says. “Someone else should have a chance now. There’s lots of talk of Clive Lewis of late, isn’t there? Is he good? I don’t know. Maybe he’s just young and a bit hot.”

Alexander initially felt wary about becoming involved in Bands 4 Refugees. “A little bit of me always worries about the perceived vanity of ‘I’m supporting a cause’, but worrying what people think actually is a vanity problem,” he says. Currently midway through writing Years & Years’ second album, he acknowledges the pressure to write about world events. “It feels like that choice is more important now than it was a couple of years ago,” he says. “You could write a song about love, and people would go: ‘We’re living in a dumpster fire apocalypse and this is what you’ve chosen to write about?’”

A recent writing session helped put things in perspective. “I felt like I didn’t want to write about politics simply because I felt like I should, but then last week I wrote a song with the Pet Shop Boys. It’s inspired by a fairground in Margate called Dreamland, but while I was writing it, Neil Tennant said to me: ‘This makes sense right now with Trump closing the borders,’ and the song became something that touched on what’s going on in the world. I’d write lyrics and he’d say: ‘No, it needs to be more direct.’ He’d take a simple line and interject a subversive political statement. That’s the challenge as a pop writer, to do both at once.”

Baxter is more plain: “It’s important not to be like fucking Bono going: ‘You should do this.’ As an artist, you don’t have to answer all the questions, but you can still pose them.”

Most of today’s lineup has been assembled by Koisser, and while he’s keen not to take credit for dragging the other artists here (“All I’ll say is that I’ve probably been the most annoying person”), he hopes he can help start a bigger conversation among artists. “I’d like someone who’s a lot more important than us to see it and be inspired to do something gigantic on a level we can’t,” he says. Of course, if – meanness alert! – today’s supergroup did indeed want some more famous people, it might have made sense to ask for guidance from someone with experience in that field. Someone with a penchant for calling up superstars and getting them in a room in order to knock out a charity banger.

I mean, I wonder out loud, does anyone here today have any such contacts? It’s hard to know where to start, really. Isn’t it, Pixie Geldof?

“One or two names come to mind,” she smiles, a little wearily. “Yes, something like that may have happened before. And, yes, I see where you’re going with that. I don’t know what his plans are, but, yeah, I mean ... Band Aid is a Christmas song. Although I do like listening to the Tammy Wynette Christmas album throughout the year.” She’s clearly warming to the idea. “OK!” she eventually says. “I’ll have a word. Maybe. Oh, I don’t know.”

Back in the rehearsal room, Holman is handing out lollipops and, with each new vocalist added to the song, Gimme Shelter is sounding more and more unstable, like a pop Buckaroo. But by 5pm, it’s sounding pretty good. At one point, the band stops to debate whether the audience will clap along during the breakdown in For What It’s Worth. “Ignore the tables,” is one suggestion. “They’ll be too busy with their free dinners.” Someone else offers: “It all depends on how drunk they are.”

The group are limited to performing a faithful rendition of at least one of their chosen songs, a decision explained when I put it to Koisser that a tropical house version of Gimme Shelter might have made more impact in 2017. He says they needed the Rolling Stones’ approval to perform the song, “and there’s a thing that says you’re not allowed to change the genre or style. It has to be the same arrangement, structure, genre – and you can’t change the lyrics. Even if we wanted to do a tropical house version – and trust me, that went through my mind – we wouldn’t be able to.”

In the past, Mick Jagger has described Gimme Shelter as “a kind of end-of-the-world song, really. It’s apocalypse.” I pull Boyce to one side and ask: is the world about to end? He thinks for a while.

“I hope not,” he says eventually. “But it feels like the start of the end of something.”

The end of what?

“Humanity?”

He’s starting to look a bit troubled. “I mean I’m hoping it’s not,” he clarifies. “But something’s about to snap. It would be good to give it all another go, wouldn’t it? Start afresh.”

He’s sounding quite chipper about the prospect of life as we know it coming to an end. In fairness, the prospect of global apocalypse isn’t exactly unappealing these days. It would be great if that could wait until after the NME awards, though.