#and because i was being a 'difficult patient' they sent me home with pamphlets on how to deal with bpd along with the bipolar ones

[moontyger]

WASHINGTON (AP) — Bleeding and in pain, Kyleigh Thurman didn’t know her doomed pregnancy could kill her.

Emergency room doctors at Ascension Seton Williamson in Texas handed her a pamphlet on miscarriage and told her to “let nature take its course” before discharging her without treatment for her ectopic pregnancy.

When the 25-year-old returned three days later, still bleeding, doctors finally agreed to give her an injection to end the pregnancy. It was too late. The fertilized egg growing on Thurman’s fallopian tube ruptured it, destroying part of her reproductive system.

That’s according to a complaint Thurman and the Center for Reproductive Rights filed last week asking the government to investigate whether the hospital violated federal law when staff failed to treat her initially in February 2023.

“I was left to flail,” Thurman said. “It was nothing short of being misled.”

The Biden administration says hospitals must offer abortions when needed to save a woman’s life, despite state bans enacted after the Supreme Court overturned the constitutional right to an abortion more than two years ago. Texas is challenging that guidance and, earlier this summer, the Supreme Court declined to resolve the issue.

More than 100 pregnant women in medical distress who sought help from emergency rooms were turned away or negligently treated since 2022, an Associated Press analysis of federal hospital investigations found.

Two women — one in Florida and one in Texas — were left to miscarry in public restrooms. In Arkansas, a woman went into septic shock and her fetus died after an emergency room sent her home. At least four other women with ectopic pregnancies had trouble getting treatment, including one in California who needed a blood transfusion after she sat for nine hours in an emergency waiting room.

Abortion bans complicate risky pregnancy care

In Texas, where doctors face up to 99 years of prison if convicted of performing an illegal abortion, medical and legal experts say the law is complicating decision-making around emergency pregnancy care.

Although the state law says termination of ectopic pregnancies isn’t considered abortion, the draconian penalties scare Texas doctors from treating those patients, the Center for Reproductive Rights argues.

“As fearful as hospitals and doctors are of running afoul of these state abortion bans, they also need to be concerned about running afoul of federal law,” said Marc Hearron, a center attorney. Hospitals face a federal investigation, hefty penalties and threats to their Medicare funding if they violate the federal law.

The organization filed complaints last week with the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Service alleging that different Texas emergency rooms failed to treat two patients, including Thurman, with ectopic pregnancies.

One complaint says Kelsie Norris-De La Cruz, 25, lost a fallopian tube and most of an ovary after an Arlington, Texas, hospital sent her home without treating her ectopic pregnancy, even after a doctor said discharge was “not in her best interest.”

“The doctors knew I needed an abortion, but these bans are making it nearly impossible to get basic emergency healthcare,” she said in a statement. “I’m filing this complaint because women like me deserve justice and accountability from those that hurt us.”

Conclusively diagnosing an ectopic pregnancy can be difficult. Doctors cannot always find the pregnancy’s location on an ultrasound, three doctors consulted for this article explained. Hormone levels, bleeding, a positive pregnancy test and an ultrasound of an empty uterus all indicate an ectopic pregnancy.

“You can’t be 100% — that’s the tricky part,” said Kate Arnold, an OB-GYN in Washington. “They’re literally time bombs. It’s a pregnancy growing in this thing that can only grow so much.”

...

Troubles extend beyond abortion ban states

Serious violations that jeopardized a mother or her fetus’ health occurred in states with and without abortion bans, the AP’s review found.

Two short-staffed hospitals — in Idaho and Washington — admitted to investigators they routinely directed pregnant patients to other hospitals.

A pregnant patient at a Bakersfield, California, emergency room was quickly triaged, but staff failed to realize the urgency of her condition, a uterine rupture. The delay, an investigator concluded, may have contributed to the baby’s death.

Doctors at emergency rooms in California, Nebraska, Arkansas and South Carolina failed to check for fetal heartbeats or discharged patients who were in active labor, leaving them to deliver at home or in ambulances, according to the documents.

Nursing and doctor shortages, trouble staffing ultrasounds around-the-clock and new abortion laws are making the emergency room a dangerous place for pregnant women, warned Dara Kass, an emergency medicine doctor and former U.S. Health and Human Services official.

“It is increasingly less safe to be pregnant and seeking emergency care in an emergency department,” she said.

[invisibleoctopus]

one thing that always bothers me about gatekeepers/fakeclaimers who are like "we're just making sure people who ACTUALLY have these problems get help we only accept REAL mentally ill people" is that this kind of shit turns away ppl who are questioning and need help with whatever Thing they have going on and it in fact hurts "the REAL not-fakers who ACTUALLY have this mental illness/neurodivergence" who might be discouraged from accessing help because theyre the type of mentally ill that gets terrified of being labeled a faker just for simply being wrong about which mental illness they have

[certifiedskywalker]

The Person I Love - Klaus Hargreeves

Ever since you met Klaus Hargreeves, you knew you were in it for the long haul. You didn’t care about his past or his powers; you only wanted him. But when drugs begin to consume him, you’re left with a choice. Get him the help he needs and miss him or watching him kill himself slowly. You love him too much to watch him suffer.

AN: Okay, she’s a long one!. Any feedback/suggestions you have would be greatly appreciated!

Warnings: Angst, cursing, drug abuse (it comes with the territory), and slight sexual joke/implication(?)not really though

You had never known a sober version of Klaus. As much as you hated to dwell on the thought, you were certain he was high when he met you. How could someone like him smile at you like he did without being influenced by chemicals coursing through his veins. Perhaps it was meeting you, speaking to you, that upturned the corners of his mouth, but the rational part of you denied that as fact. However, in your darkest moments, you liked to think that smile was unaltered by any sort of pill. It was what made the nights less difficult and the days not so long. That thought made it all worth it when you woke up next to him, that same smile on his lips as he reclined in the hospital bed.

“Does this gown make me look fat?” “Never,” you say, smiling right back at him. The smile fades for a moment as you rub at sleep still clouding your eyes. By now, you were used to falling asleep in uncomfortable chairs; however, despite your experience, your body retained each ache. “You didn’t have to stay,” Klaus says softly, eyes taking in your tired expression. You slumped in the chair, turning your head to stare at him with an all too loving gaze. “You know that I do,” you hum in reply, “wouldn’t have it any other way.” It was a lie. Both of you knew that. You would love to have Klaus sober, to know that he was safe with the temptation of drugs behind him and the threat of death a far off cry. “Careful,” Klaus tsked, “grow any more honorable and you’ll turn into Luther.” You smile at the mention of his brother. You hadn’t actually met the man but, from what Klaus told you, his overbearing sense of morality was stupefying.

“So, what happened this time?” Your question prompted silence from the man before you. He tore his green eyes away from your face and fiddled with his hands that rested in his lap. The IV stuck into his hand shifted with each movement and you wondered if Klaus had grown too comfortable with the feeling of needles under his skin.

“Ya know, the usual,” he brushed off your worry with practiced ease, “overdid it. You know I was never any good with fractions and conversions.” Klaus chuckled, hoping his laughter would coax a grin your lips again. When it didn’t, Klaus knew something within you had been altered by this hospital stay. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” You ask, eyes widening now with shock. “Klaus, what’s wrong is that the nurses here are on a friendly, first name basis with you. What’s wrong is that we have had more sleep overs in this room than we have had at our own homes.” You were standing now, trying to distract yourself from the tears that were beginning to gather in your eyes.

“Y/N,” Klaus started to speak, but for the first time in his life, no words came to mind. You frowned at his new found quiet and continued. You stepped up to the foot of the bed so you could look directly at him as you spoke.

“This is the fifth time you’ve told me you ‘overdid it’ and I’m starting to…” you bit your lip at the thought and Klaus sat up in his bed. You turned your gaze back to him, taking in his wild mess of chocolate curls and the guilty concern written across his face. “I’m starting to think that maybe you’re doing it on purpose.”

Klaus’ jaw snapped shut and any words he had gathered died on the tip of his tongue. His eyes took in your form, from your baggy clothes that told him that, when the doctor called you, you had been ready for bed, and to the bags under your shining eyes. All signs of your worry and lack of true rest; a privilege you lost when you put your name down as Klaus’ emergency contact. You never told him that you did that, or how it felt more like a marriage certificate as you signed your very soul over to him and his bad choices. What hurt him, hurt you in ways he could never fathom. Not even now.

You sniffled and the sound filled the air around you. Still stuck in stunned silence, Klaus could only watch as you strode over to the chair. Fishing under the cushion, you pulled out pamphlets from the check in desk and the papers you had been given. You handed them out to him, your hands shaking when his fingers brushed against yours to grab them.

“That’s the doctor’s recommended treatment plan,” you murmured as Klaus trailed his gaze over the papers. His eyes caught the title of one of the foldables you had stole from the desk, reading ‘Steady Oaks Rehabilitation Center’. It was then he turned his head to look at you again. Green eyes become glassy as he stared up at you.

“I don’t-”

“It’s just something to consider, Klaus,” you said softly, too tired to be any louder than a whisper. “Let me know what you decide.” You leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. His skin felt cold when it brushed against your lips and you couldn’t tell if that was the cause of the shiver down your spine or the overwhelming love you felt for him shooting through your body.

“I’ll call you,” Klaus said swiftly, as if he were frightened that you were going to leave before he could give you any semblance of reassurance. You gave him a half-hearted smile and nodded.

“I’ll be waiting,” you replied before slipping out of his hospital room, the image of that first smile dancing in front of your eyes. He watched you go, eyelids fluttering in a vain attempt to quell the tears in gathering in his eyes. With the hopes of distracting himself Klaus opened the pamphlet for the rehabilitation center. A pen fell from it’s folds and into his lap.

Looking from where it fell, Klaus saw a blue header underlined in dark ink. ‘Coping with a Loved One’s Addiction’, bolded in it’s print. A sudden and violent sob shook Klaus’ body. His shoulder sagged and his face contorted in pain. Now he knew; he knew just how much his hurt had hurt you. Not even Ben had to tell him.

Klaus didn’t call for a while. You waited nonetheless, loyal as a dog and never not consistent. Whenever you were home you’d spare glances at the phone hung on the wall of your apartment, just waiting. When you woke and the receiver was flashing you’d be sent into a panic. You’d listen to every message, waiting for the familiar, lyrical tones of Klaus’ voice asking what you were up to and if you wanted any company.

Not once did you hear his recorded greeting and when you tried to call him, the line beeped once until it cut off. Silently, you prayed to any and all powerful beings that Klaus was only behind on phone bills not, like his landline, dead. The only shred of hope you clung to was that the hospitals had not called you either. However, that one solace did nothing to dull the ache in your heart. You missed Klaus dearly and desperately.

On one particularly rain-ridden day, your longing was nearing the point of madness. Worried had plagued your heart for close to three weeks now. While it wasn’t unusual for Klaus to disappear for long stretches of time, he always called. Always. You were about to call the police, the hospital, even some of his family members when your phone rang.

Rushing towards it, you saw that the number was unknown. A strange combination of numbers that was foreign to you ran across the caller ID. A new wave of anguish washed over you. You picked up the phone, pressing it to your ear in the hopes that whoever was on the other end had something good to tell you.

“Hello?” You asked bitterly, unable to hide your disappointment. A few long moments of silence passed as you heard muffled shuffling noises on the other end. “Hello?”

“H-Hey you.” The voice was unmistakable and it made your whole being tremble with shocks of emotion. “Sorry I haven’t called. These piss-hats don’t allow phone calls until ‘the patient shows a growing sense of responsibility and stability’. What morons, right?”

“Klaus!” You said, tears flowing from your eyes and you giggled at his impression. He chuckled on the other end and you could almost hear that smile of his.

“Y/N!”

“I’ve missed you,” you gushed into the phone, leaning your shoulder up against the wall. You twirled the coiled cord between your fingers as you sank into the sound of Klaus’ voice. “So you checked yourself in?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah, I did, I just,” Klaus mumbled the rest, making it hard for you to pick up.

“What?”

“I checked myself in, yeah.” He said quickly and you noted the slight panic in his tone.

“What did you say after that?” You pressed, the phone against your ear became your life line as you waited for his reply. All you could think of was Klaus, standing against the wall of the center he was in, smiling like he did. You missed that smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Are you hearing things, Y/N? I sure hope not, because that’s my thing.” You giggled softly, shaking your head at his humor.

“Klaus,” you groaned teasingly, your back fully resting on the wall of your apartment. You heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end, the kind that told you that what you said shocked your friend somehow. “Klaus?”

“Say it again, please,” his voice was almost a whimper. The sound of it made your heart ache while goosebumps simultaneously rose along your arms.

“Klaus,” you repeat, in a lower whisper this time. He sighed on the other end and you could almost feel his breath tickling your neck like how it did when he whispered a joke in your ear.

“I miss you,” he keened, “so much, I didn’t know it was possible.” Your breath caught in your throat at his words and you longed to be with him in the moment. To see him, not in your mind, but in reality; be able to reach out and touch him, give him comfort.

“I miss you too,” you murmur and that’s enough for him. It has to be. His phone call time is running out, the woman in her uniform tapping her wrist with a scowl.

“Keep missing me,” he begged, “I have to go Y/N. I’ll call you again when I can.”

“Klaus, wait,” you begin but he keeps going.

“Oh and tell my landlord to suck a dick, okay?” You stifle a laugh.

“Okay, but hold on,” you start again but he stops you once more.

“I gotta go, Y/N,” he says quickly, but he pauses after a split second before adding, “I love you.” Your mouth opened but no words came out, only his name again. Like a prayer, it fell from your lips, a promise that rang in both of your ears.

“Klaus,” your voice is low, quiet, timid from his admittance.

“I know,” he replied, pressing his forehead to the wall next to him. He liked to imagine you were doing the same in your apartment. Maybe you were even wearing one of the shirts he had left there from a long ago stay on your couch. He hated that couch.

“I lov-” The line went dead before you could finish and you felt your very life force drain. Angrily, you hung the phone up on the receiver with tears welling up in your eyes. “I love you too,” you whispered with a sad smile, “I love you too.”

On the other end, Klaus was staring daggers at the woman who had plucked the phone from his grasp. He opened his mouth, a sense of rage he saved mostly towards his father threatening to spill out from his lips. The woman only huffed at his expression, raising an eyebrow in wait. Klaus bit his tongue, knowing that if he acted out now they could keep him here longer.

“Well,” he said once he had taken a few breaths, “that was quite rude.” The woman grumbled something under her breath before pushing him along. As they walked down the narrow hallway, Klaus’ mind exchanged the blue painted walls for those of your apartment. If he tried hard enough he could see you in your kitchen, swaying slightly to the beat of the music playing from the nearby record player.

It was a sight he had seen many times before. On those nights where he had stayed over, back pressed to the couch in your cramped living room, he would pretend to still be sleeping. His eyes would be barely open, just enough to catch your movements in tune with the music. The image brought a smile to Klaus’ lips as he was led back to his room. As his door shut behind him, he silently hoped you were smiling because you loved him too.

It was cold the day Klaus was to be released. Nonetheless, you stood outside the rehab center, nervously picking at your nails. It was a habit that you had adopted from Klaus. Now you knew the action spawned from his symptoms of withdrawal. Puzzles pieces of his life started to fall together before you, amplified by his time away.

In your waking hours, thoughts of Klaus consumed you. You thought back to any and every memory you had of him in between hoping he was eating and wishing he were with you. The phones calls were all too rare and much too brief for your mind to cease thinking about his occupation of your heart. What made it all the more wonderfully worse was that the calls didn’t end with the same longing ‘I love you’ as the first one had.

You had rationalized that Klaus said it by mistake, caught up in the heat of the moment, or meant in a way that was purely platonic. From the moment you had met him, you knew Klaus was full of undying compassion. His loyalty went without question and was nothing but constant; unless the hunger for his next high rendered him powerless. So it wouldn’t surprise you if he had meant his words without the punctuation of romance. For, from the moment you had met him, Klaus was never in a relationship for very long.

It was that alone that held you back from telling Klaus how you truly felt about him. You didn’t want to lose him in the same way so many others had. Instead, you made yourself comfortable as a dear friend, the friend that gave Klaus a place to stay when his newest partner told him to get lost. It was similar to the present moment. Once he emerged from the rehabilitation center, Klaus was going to call your couch home for a while.

The thought of having him around again made you smile to yourself, warming your cheeks against the Autumn chill that had taken over New York. It was clear things would be different, Klaus would need extra attention, but you were willing to give him that. Hell, you were eager to. You peered at the clock, biting at the inside of your cheek as you calculated just how much longer it would be until Klaus was by your side again.

Your brows furrowed as you did the math, wondering if perhaps the clock was a few minutes too fast. A few people washed out onto the sidewalk you stood upon, blocking your view slightly. With a groan, you craned your neck until you could see the time again. Five minutes until you could see him again. Could that be right?

“And I thought I was bad with time, ha!” Klaus’ voice made you spin so quickly on your heels that you reached out for him to stabilize yourself. “Whoa, easy!”

His long fingers wrap around your wrists, holding you still as you take him in. The sight of him fills your soul like air in your lungs, like you need him. His bright green eyes scan over your features, that signature smile playing on his pink lips. One of your hands lifts from his arm and trails up to grasp his chin. The facial hair he had been growing out was styled, making him look older than he did when you last laid eyes on him.

“I like this,” you said, rubbing your thumb over the hair on his chin. Klaus let out a breathy chuckle so light he matched the tone of his eyes.

“Hoped that you would,” he teased, his teeth curling his bottom lip a moment as he took in your face. Cheeks and nose rosy from the breeze, your neck wrapped in a scarf he had stolen for you long ago. It had been too long. “You’re the only one worth looking good for.”

Silence rests between your bodies, everything you both want to say read like poems in your eyes. You feel stinging behind your eyes as you peer into Klaus’ green ones. Carefully, as if he were broken glass, you skirt your thumb across his cheek. His breath hitches for a moment and he feels that pulling in his heart; that same feeling he left whenever you left the room.

“I’ve missed you,” you say at the same time, prompting a mess of laughing sobs from your throats. You only shake your head, wrapping your arms over his shoulder and leaning into his frame. Instinct falls over Klaus as his arms find their places on your waist. He presses his face into the crook of your neck, closing his eyes when the smell of your soap and the feeling of your body on his overwhelms his senses.

You held each other for a while. People gawked at the sight of you two as they passed by. The sidewalk seems to grow more crowded as Klaus clung to you tightly. A few more minutes go by until Klaus pulls away from you. Despite the smile playing on his plush lips, the glimmer that had shone in his eyes seemed to fade.

“I am absolutely starved,” he groans, patting his stomach to emphasize it’s emptiness. You grin at him, having missed his childish demeanor. He smiles at the sight of yours and extends his hand to you. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” you play along, taking his cold hand in yours. His finger’s intertwine with yours as if it was where they were meant to be. As you start to walk, Klaus recalls the wonderful and colorful people had he met. While he talks, you spare a glance up at him. His curls bounce with each step and the lines in his face deepen as he tries to impersonate one of the other patients he had met. He was still your Klaus only, hopefully, sober.

When you don’t laugh at his sorry attempt of a baritone voice, Klaus turns his gaze on you. His smile holds true even as he stares at you with slight confusion. Lips parted and eyes, with slightly dilated pupils, appear more like a soft, yellow-green in the sunlight. You swear you had seen a puppy in the park one day with the same expression.

“What?” He asked, nudging his shoulder against your as you both continue to walk. He lifts a hand to pull his eyelid away from one of his eyes, a twisted grin on his features. “Is there something in my eye?”

You stifle a laugh, shaking your head at the goof of a man beside you. “No, just good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back,” Klaus agrees, his tone falling into one more serious as he gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. You both round the corner of the street and soon, Griddy’s Donuts comes into your line of sight.   

“I don’t see why we had to come home to have tea. Don’t they have tea at Griddy’s?” You ask, reaching into your cupboard for the stash of tea you had kept. Finding the right brew, you pulled two mugs down as well, setting it all out on the counter. You glance over at Klaus who, despite being in your apartment before, wandered about your small living room like a weary traveler.

He liked the way you had said ‘home’, as if it was shared. As if you had both lived there together for years and, in a sense, Klaus could argue that you had. Nights he spent sprawled out on your couch, whining about everything and anything while you listened. You always listened. Home, he thought, he could get used to that.

“They do,” Klaus says finally, turning away from your book shelf to smile at you. “But I wouldn’t wish that rat poison on my worst enemy. Tea shouldn’t smell like monkey shit.” You giggle as you pour water into the kettle. Klaus didn’t realize how much he had missed the sound of your laughter.

“Good to know,” you muse. Setting the kettle on the stove, you start a low flame beneath it. As you waited to see some steam, Klaus turned his attention back to your bookshelf. His eyes skimmed over the titles of works he was horribly unfamiliar with. It wasn’t until he reached the few bottom shelves when he felt more knowledgeable.

“Your vinyl’s are as dusty as my father’s closet,” Klaus teased, pulling at a few of the cardboard sleeves to read the artist’s name. “I should know,” he added, “I spent a lot of time in closets.”

“I haven’t used it in a while,” you explained. You strode out of your tiny kitchen and over to where Klaus had crouched down. His fur coat brushed the hardwood floor of your apartment, nearly concealing his sneakers from your view. He looked so small as you stood over him.

“Why ever not? There’s always time for music!” He exclaimed, standing with a record in his hand. You didn’t get a chance to look at the title or tell him that, ever since he had checked himself into rehab and out of your life, all the music had bled from your life. Any song you had dared to listen to reminded you of his smile and brought you to tears. You had cried enough with just the crushing feeling of missing Klaus, so you figured it was best to give music a rest until he returned.

“I was just busy, I guess,” you mumble as Klaus slid the record from it’s sleeve. With nimble fingers, he placed the disk on the player and set the needle. When he faces you again, the side of his mouth is quirked upwards in a shy smile that was only reserved for you.

“Too busy to spare a dance?” He extends his hand to you as the first few notes of Elton John’s ‘Rocketman’ crackled on the record player. “I’ll lead,” he added, “if that helps.”

“Says the man with two left feet,” you joked before taking his hand. Klaus chuckled, pulling you to the middle of your living room so you would both had more space.

“You only say that ‘cause you’re jealous.” As he spoke, Klaus intertwined your fingers with his once more and rested his other hand just above your hip. Even through your clothes, you could feel the coldness of his fingertips.

“Hm, me jealous? I don’t think so,” you jeered back, placing your own hand on his upper arm as Klaus began to waltz. Your bodies moved together as if they were never parted. Klaus smiled at you wickedly and dared to take a sneaky step closer to you. Your face went pink at the action, his proximity to you making your heart beat even faster.

“Then why do you look so flustered, my dear?” Klaus’ tone drips with smugness when the pet name slips over his lips. He only called you ‘dear’ when he wanted something. You could remember the first time it had happened a few months into your friendship. Klaus had pulled you to a parade of some sort in the city in July. The sun was beating down on everyone and you were taking a drink from your water bottle when he spoke up.

“Can I steal a sip, my dear?” The name had sent the butterflies nesting in your stomach into a frenzy. You couldn’t remember now if you had even replied to his question. All you did recall is handing him the bottle and Klaus throwing a skinny arm over your shoulders.

That was the same day you realized you were falling for your friend. Klaus looked so carefree as he danced down the street, following the brightly colored floats with music blaring from their speakers. He had asked you to dance then too. Both of you had made absolute fools of yourselves but even when he wasn’t trying, Klaus made it look graceful, easy. It was so easy to be with him.

“Where’d you go?” Klaus’ new question pulled you back from your reflection. His dark brows were knitted in slight concern and you felt the hand he had your hip rub against your side in an attempt to bring you back to the present.

“No where,” you said, giving him a smile, “I was just thinking.” Klaus huffed, his expression losing it’s rare face of worriment.

“That’s awfully dangerous.” You nodded, biting your lower lip as you debated in your mind to tell him. To tell him how much you had thought about him while he was gone, how much you really loved him and ask if he loved you.

“Yeah,” you murmured, “it is sometimes.” Klaus must have sensed the change of mood because he dropped his hand from yours. Soon it found its place on your other hip and was pulling you even closer to him. To press away any space between your bodies, you wrapped your arms over his shoulders and around his slim neck. Your head now rested against his chest and you could hear the quick, steady beat of his heart.

“Then don’t think,” Klaus murmured, his breath stirring strands of your hair.

“That’s easier said than it is done,” you replied with a sigh. Hoping to hide from your own thoughts and Klaus’ field of vision, you pressed your face deeper against his chest.

“Drugs help,” he said, so nonchalantly it scared you. You pulled away and gave him a look of fear. Klaus took in your wide eyes and parted lips, realizing he had gone too far. Before he could apologize you spoke up.

“Are you still using?” You didn’t know if you wanted him to tell you quickly or slowly. If he had to think it over, he was using, but if he answered too fast he could be lying. Every idea tormented your brain in a barrage of guilt and annoyance. All you wanted was a moment, untainted, with him.

“Y/N,” Klaus started, stepping close to you once more with his hands reaching for you waist. You hadn’t realized you had pushed yourself so far away from him. “I’m not using.”

“So it’s just you?” You asked, leaning into his renewed touch.

“Well, you’re gonna have to be more specific on that.” You cocked your head to the side and Klaus smiled at your confusion. “Ben is here. Luckily this place isn’t haunted.” You sighed and pinched his shoulder before falling against his chest again.

“Hi Ben,” you said softly, eyes skirting around your living room as if by chance, you could see his spectral form. Klaus laughed suddenly and you felt him shake his head.

“He says ‘hi’ too,” he mumbled something afterwards, directed towards Ben, and you smiled.

“And something else, I presume?” Klaus exhaled through his nose and glanced down you in his arms. Swaying to the sound of Elton John’s voice, you looked so soft. Klaus nodded to your question before sinking into your warmth and the lyrics that filled the room.

“What did he say?”

“Oh you know,” Klaus scoffed, trailing off in the hopes you would drop the topic. Klaus peered over his shoulder and his eyes found Ben. He stood in your kitchen, shaking his head at the sight of you both. Klaus lifted a hand from the small of your back and gestured for his brother to go away. Ben sighed and walked down the hallway of your apartment.

“I actually don’t know,” you teased, “that’s why you’re here.”

“Here to act as the conduit in which you flirt with my dead brother? I knew it,” Klaus said, his voice sad, over-dramatically so. “And here I thought you truly loved me. Y/N, you’re cold hearted.”

“I do,” you said quietly, with a tone of voice that dripped with a sincerity that cut through Klaus’ playful show.

“What?” He sounded genuinely confused at your words and looked the part too when you pulled yourself away from his chest to look into his eyes. The vibrant green was darker now in the low light of your apartment.

The question hovered between the two of you for a while longer. Your mind was racing, wandering through every possible outcome that your next few words could bring about. Klaus, on the other hand, wasn’t thinking at all. One of his hands trailed up from your waist to your cheek. The skin was soft to the touch and it took every ounce of will power Klaus had in him not to kiss you then and there. He wanted to kiss you so desperately but, for once in his life, he was ready to wait.

“I do, love you,” you breathed out, as if the words flowed straight from your heart and through your mouth. Klaus’ green eyes seemed to sparkle at your words and the smile that graced his lips sent a wave of adoration over the entirety of your being.

“I love you too,” he said, his voice quiet. It was as if he were a child on the playground, telling his best friend a long kept secret. “Over the phone I meant it. I couldn’t stand not seeing you when I wanted to. I wanted to see the person I love,” he brushed his fingers over your cheek, “and now I can.”

“So poetic, was that Keats? No, wait. It was Dickinson, wasn’t it?” You ask teasingly, prompting Klaus to chuckle. You had never heard him lay it on so thickly before; at least not when the subject of his affections was you.

“You know I never paid attention in literature class,” he leaned a little closer to you. “I always thought, why read poetry when you can make it yourself.” His body was now flush with your own, his hand holding your jaw now. His words melted you into his touch and you found yourself leaning up towards him.

“You should share more often,” you vex, pleased with the sudden mask of confidence that now rested on your features. You weren’t entirely sure where it came from, but you were happy with the results nonetheless. “Maybe I will,” Klaus beamed, his forehead now resting against your own. A few stray brown curls tickled your skin, but you didn’t pay much mind to them. You only hum in response as the music began to fill the quiet between you. Eager, you craned your neck upwards, silently granting Klaus the permission he had been waiting for.

Full of want and unhindered passion, Klaus pressed his lips to yours roughly. You expected nothing less than the rawness that made up his existence. He was himself with you, no drugs required. Your hands slipped into his hair, tugging lightly at the strands as Klaus held your close to him. His lips were soft, softer than you ever imagined.

Testing the waters, Klaus grazed the tip of his tongue against your bottom lip. Bending to his will, your mouth parted and the kiss deepened. His hand on your cheek traveled back down to your waist, the other squeezed at your hip. Just as Elton John’s voice faded out, the whistling of the kettle on the stove reached your ears.

“Fuck the tea,” Klaus mumbled against your lips as you started to pull away. His green eyes were dark and lips more of a red color after the bruising kiss you had shared. His gaze danced across your features and he could feel every fiber of his body screaming for you. “Better yet, fuck m-” Klaus began but you pecked his lips again to quiet him.

“You’re the one who wanted the tea,” you pointed out. Klaus watched at you pulled away from his lips, a smile resting on your features. He could only imagine he wore the same expression, if not more dopey and messy.

“I actually want you, the tea was simply a diversion,” he explained, following you into your cramped kitchenette. He studied you as you turned the stove off and prepared the tea bags to steep. The domestic sight sent a shiver down Klaus’ spine. It was a scene he could grow used to seeing. He heard a cough suddenly and he peered down the hallway.

“I actually wanted the tea,” Ben grumbled, but he gave his brother a thumbs up. Ben had done the same thing the day Klaus had met you. Klaus could remember Ben poking at his stunted courage, trying to get him to go up and speak to you. He was glad in that moment, happy for the curse that his father had called a gift. Now, Klaus smiled at his brother. Turning his gaze back to you, Klaus saw a glimmer of possibility shining in your eyes.

[ajokeformur-ray]

May I have a mach too, please? 😳 I have borderline dissorder that makes me need constantly atention from the person I'm in love, and If I don't get it I feel extremely sad. I am a shy person but with a strong character, making friends is a very hard thing to do for me. I am quite asocial. I talk a lot with very reliable people, I can do monologue for hours. I like to feel protected, loved, feel like a little girl. I am very childlike and facetious. (Sorry for my bad English)

Hi, angel! You sent this in a long time ago so I hope this is still something you’ll enjoy! Thank you for being patient with me!😊💗

Total word count: 1, 806.

Arthur // wc: 918.

If anyone understands what it means to suffer in day to day life, it’s Arthur. He may not know what borderline disorder is upon first learning of it, but Arthur has regular appointments with Doctor Kane and he can easily find out with her. He would read out loud from his government issued brown battered journal all of the things which you said to him the night before during a candid conversation, and Doctor Kane would frown. She would reach into one of her drawers in her overcrowded desk, bowing under its own weight and hand Arthur a pamphlet which details your disorder. Arthur would spend long hours reading from this pamphlet and he would listen to you and follow what you say to the letter. Nothing is more important to him than you are, and he proves that to you every single day. You feel extremely sad if you don’t receive the attention which you need from your loved one, and Arthur is an all or nothing person; which means that naturally are you surrounded with love and never for even a second can you doubt his love and devotion for you. Arthur tells you every single day, in every available moment, that he loves you and all the reasons why. He, too, also needs constant reassurance, so loud are his demons and so vicious are his thoughts. You silence them every day, just as he does for you. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows, for both of you struggle daily and exhausting is it even on your best days. During the days when Arthur can’t be for you what you most need him to be, he is deeply apologetic and devotes the rest of the evening, those scant few precious hours, holding you close and giving you what you deserve. It’s the least he can do for you and it’s undoubtedly  the very same you would do for him in that same situation.

It’s really hard for you to make friends and you’re very shy. Arthur, for his part, is also very shy and keeps to himself. As such, it’s takes a long time for the two of you  to even start a friendship. You have a strong character and Arthur also has hidden depths and is frequently underestimated and in this way do you gravitate towards each other, both sensing that there is more to the other person than first seems to be. You are asocial and Arthur was socially isolated for much of his life, so both of you are lost when it comes to social interactions. However, that sense that there is more to each other guides you through each interaction and you slowly fall together. It isn’t easy, and sometimes you wonder why you bother, but then you look into Arthur’s hypnotic sea green eyes and you remember all of the reasons why.  There is nothing either of you won’t do for the other, and even when or if miscommunications happen between the two of you, there is so much love between you that you can overcome anything. It’s hard for you to make friends and it’s just as hard for Arthur to make friends too, so the two of you typically spend much of your time together; you are each other’s best friend. As the two of you get to know each other, you discover each other’s hidden depths and you realise that you were right: there is more to Arthur than meets the eye. You wonder how you ever survived before him. You are asocial and when Arthur comes home from work and your own day is over with, the two of you spend a quiet evening together on the worn sofa watching The Murray Franklin Show and talking quietly. You rarely go out in the evenings and neither of you would ever have it any other way. You have both found your forever home and though 8J is the apartment, your home is in the arms of the other person.

You talk a lot with very reliable people, and Arthur is the most reliable person of them all. During those quiet evenings on the sofa, you can monologue for hours and Arthur adores listening to you. He likes for it to be quiet while he watches The Murray Franklin Show so that he can fully immerse himself in his daydreams, but when the show is over and he is dancing with you across the cramped but cosy living room, Arthur likes to listen to you talk. “Come on, talk to me,” he quietly says, barely audible over the television. “Let me hear all about your day,“ and he will tell you about his day too. You tell each other everything, best friends are you. You like to feel protected and loved, and Arthur is a natural caretaker. These two things go hand in hand and your relationship is built on mutual trust and respect and your individual personalities perfectly complement one another. You are childlike and Arthur adores practicing his show on you, for you give him an authentic reaction every single time and over the weeks and months of your relationship his show and his sense of humour gets tailored to your own, so desperately does he want to make you laugh and smile. You are facetious and this fits in perfectly with Arthur’s dark sense of humour, for he, too, jokes about inappropriate things. The two of you are perfect for each other in every single way.

Joker // wc: 888.

By this stage in your relationship, yourself and Joker know everything about each other. There is nothing either of you can say or do which will surprise the other person, so deeply and so completely do you know and love one another. The both of you require constant reassurance and attention from the other person for different reasons. For you, it is because of your borderline disorder and for Joker, it is due to learned behaviours. He is not a narcissist, but due to being raised by a narcissistic parent, he inevitably exhibits those tendencies. The longer he is with you, however, the less he shows these signs, due to learning different behaviours. Again, it is not all sunshine and rainbows, and there are days when neither of you are what the other person most wants you to be. Clear communication and mutual trust and respect enable the two of you to discuss your feelings within your relationship, and this means that such times are usually smoothed over with well earned and well-deserved cuddles. He still has the pamphlet which Doctor Kane gave him all that time ago. Little does he refer to it now, preferring to rely on his own knowledge and experiences. There is nothing he won't do for you, and following recent events has that sentiment taken a darker tone. It is more ominous now, and more threatening to all except yourself. You are the safest person in all of Gotham and in Joker's arms do you find everything you have ever wanted or needed, even before you knew what those things were. Whenever you are sad or anything less than perfectly okay, Joker is there with an understanding, sympathetic smile and the calloused pads of his thumbs wipe away any and all tears which fall. You are his greatest priority and he will protect you and defend you with his life. 

Joker is the same man he has always been, it is only that he no longer cares what the world may think of him; Gotham wanted a clown and that was precisely what they got. The poor man chose his name but not what came with it and it breaks your heart to think about everything that he had to go through and still was he unseen, still was he unknown and still was he not listened to, by all except you; his one and only person who understands him. It is difficult for you to make friends and Joker is your biggest supporter. Just because his life is over, as a wanted man and a criminal, it doesn't mean that yours is and he will support you in everything. Your future is something which Joker defends with greater ferocity than you do. You are shy but your character is strong and Joker finds this juxtaposition amusing. If you ever get shy in front of him, he only giggles and cups your face delicately in his hands, his fingers splayed behind your ears, and he kisses you soundly until you quite forget what you were shy about. There is nothing he won't do for you and though he often werewolfs out in the filthy and dirty streets of Gotham, he also loves nothing more than coming home to you. You are safest at home and it is easier for Joker to protect himself when he isn't worried about your safety. If he lost you then he would truly be dangerous for only then would he have nothing left to lose and in a city like Gotham is that dangerous beyond measure. But the city got what it deserves and now, so does Joker in your arms. Nowhere else would he rather be.

Joker's protective streak is amplified by your enjoyment of feeling protected and loved; he is able to express this streak with you without the need of dampening himself down and with you is he his freest and truest self. Everything he does, everything that he is, is designed to help you and to protect you. Joker wouldn't want you any other way, just as you don't want him any other way. You can talk a lot and this grounds Joker more effectively than anything else. When his mind races and threatens to break the spirit of his soul, Joker asks you to talk. It doesn't matter what you say or how you say it, just so long as you do. You are his one and only person who understands him, and he never has to explain himself to you despite his unpredictable behaviours and unknown triggers and boundaries of his anger, because you understand him on a fundamental level, just as he does with you, so long have you been together and so deeply are you bonded. You are childlike and through you can Joker experience his own lost childhood. You remind him of a time which was stolen from him and he clings to you with everything that he has; his biggest fear is losing you. You fear the same and you work hard to maintain the rich relationship which the two of you have built together. Joker loves you for all of you and he would never want you any other way than how you so naturally are on your best day, your worst day and everything in between.

[pharmacyfollies]

Friday Night Fuckery: Pharmacy Follies

-Today was a clustershit. However, because I left work with a raging migraine, in which I took 4 different types of medication, and went straight to bed when I got home at 7pm yesterday, I think I was still drugged up which made my brain go numb. It could also be a survival mechanism due to the rampant stupidity I encounter on a daily basis. Who the fuck knows?

-The highlight of my YEAR(so far) was when V was talking about how Japan has low crime rates. Don't know if it's true or not but she was going on about it.....

V: "In Japan, they don't have no where near the crime we have here. It's like they know how to behave themselves. You know how people are always declaring a war on bad things like drugs, sexual harassment, bullying and shit like that? We should have a war on crime."

Me: "It would also help if people weren't such assholes."

V: "That wouldn't help. I mean, you're a huge asshole but you don't commit any crime."

She got a point there. ROFLMAO!!!! Fucking V! Boosting morale since 2000 and starting strong in 2018!!! *dead*

-I normally try to keep politics off of here but this shit right here. There's 3 things that make this shit hilarious. One, the sub-titles. Two, the sub-titles do NOT translate what he's really saying. Three, his laugh. That part is what sent me to my grave. ROFLMAO!!! *dead*

-I love Girl Scout Cookies. You love Girl Scout Cookies. Girl Scout Cookies are loaded with crack which is why we all love Girl Scout Cookies. Well, my friend's daughter is slinging that crack loaded goodness online so you can easily buy and get your fix!! You can thank me later when you're eating those Do-si-dos, Samoas or whatever the fuck you like as they all got crack in them! Clicky here!!

-I swear to God, if the next person I take care of looks at me like I'm nuttier than a bag of squirrel shit when I tell them the total of their purchase and does not have their form of payment ready, I'm going to completely lose my shit, rip my tits off and beat someone over the head with them!!!

-Idiot: "I'm checking to see if my doctor sent over my son's prescription."

Me: "We haven't received anything yet."

Idiot: "I have this piece of paper here."

Me: "That looks like the prescription."

Idiot: "But I want to keep it."

Me: "If you want me to fill the prescription, I'll need that."

Idiot: "Can I get it back?"

Me: "No. It's a prescription. If I fill it, we have to keep it as it's a legal document from your doctor."

Idiot: "Can you call the doctor to get the prescription?"

Me: "Why would I call the doctor when you have the prescription in your hand?"

Idiot: "He said he was going to send it over but he gave me this to keep."

Me: "Well, if you just left from there, it can take a little while for the script to get here. If anything, I'd call here in an hour or so."

Idiot: "What if I make a copy of this? Can you fill it then?"

Me: "Yes, as long as you bring in the original. We cannot accept copies."

Idiot: "Ok."

So why in the fuck does she show up a few hours later complaining and wanting to talk to a manager about how she came in earlier to drop off the prescription and how it was inconvenient for her to go make a copy of it and bring it back. Who the fuck told her to go make a copy? Not me. She suggested doing that herself. I was going to tell her motherfucking ass off but I was taking care of one of my regulars and being that I felt another migraine coming on, I'm trying to behave myself before I end up snapping and killing one of these idiots.

-Pretty much. LMAO!!

-A PF fan shared this picture. This is what happens when the printer at work takes a huge shit on you but Jesus comes through to save the day. ROFLMAO!!!!!

Here's the story behind it...

So, a printer at work kept saying "paper jam in tray 1" and we couldn't find any paper jam. We figured it was the arm that is supposed to keep the paper secured, that wasn't staying put. We knew that if we called tech support, it would be a long while before they would be able to fix it or send us a new tray, and it would be difficult to work minus a printer. So we were determined to rig it so we wouldn't have to go through that headache. We tried pens, tape dispensers, spatulas, and vials. Nothing fit.

Now, there is a patient of ours that leaves a pamphlet from her church when she visits, and one time she gave us a pocket sized bible.

Well, we didn't really know what to do with it... until now... It fit perfectly, so now we have the word of God keeping the peace at work...

-Although I'm sure I'm preaching to the choir but if you have new insurance, please do NOT show me the OLD insurance card especially if you do NOT have the NEW insurance card. You might as well be showing me a freshly laid turd because that's just as worthy as your old insurance card. And getting mad at me and tattling to the manager at how I refused to look at your old insurance card is all for naught. Your old insurance is NOT going to pay for your prescriptions so there's NO NEED TO SHOW IT TO ME!! Why do I have to explain this shit to grown ass people?!

-This is the fucking video game from HELL!!!!! ROFLMAO!!!!!!

[winchesterprincessbride]

Political Animals-Part 11

This is an A/B/O AU.  You are the Omega artist daughter of Naomi Novak, a world-class heart surgeon who is running for Mayor of New York City.  After a meeting where your mother’s advisers call you a “liability”, she tells you that if you don’t do as your told she will cut you off.  You storm out and wind up in a bar a few blocks away.

The hottest Alpha you have EVER laid eyes on with a scent so mouthwatering you’re practically drooling offers to buy you a drink.  It’s just a drink, right? What do you have to lose? Only everything.

Characters: Omega! Reader, Beta! Naomi Novak, Alpha! Castiel Novak, Omega! Meg Novak, Claire Novak, Jimmy Novak, Alpha! Sam Winchester, Alpha! Dean Winchester, Alpha! John Winchester, Omega! Jo Harvelle

Big thanks to @moansmisha  for letting me use some of her ideas from this post.

Master List

Part 1 (all parts are linked)

Parts in bold are text messages

Our lives became very difficult after the press found out about Sam and me. The paparazzi hounded us everywhere we went.  Just as Sam had predicted, the election ceased being about our parents and we suddenly became the topic of conversation.

Of course, my mother used the free publicity to her advantage. She released a statement saying she was totally devastated that her dearest daughter had allowed herself to be taken advantage of by such an unscrupulous Alpha as Sam Winchester. And that she hid my Omega status for my protection.

“This is complete and utter bullshit.” I snapped, grabbing the remote and turning off the TV. “I’ve never been her dearest anything, and she hid my being an Omega because those PR assholes told her to.”

“You need to calm down, Babe. All this stress isn’t good for you or the babies.” Sam said gently, his large hand caressing my belly.

I had been forced to take a leave of absence from the gallery. As soon as I started to show, the press was everywhere. Julian, my friend who owned the gallery felt awful about it, but I understood.

John was constantly being asked questions about our relationship, and he always gave the same answer. “My son is an adult. His relationship has nothing to do with my campaign. Moving on…..”

One extremely stupid reporter had tried to ambush/interview Dean at the garage, and Dean went nuclear on him. He won’t be making that mistake again.They had even shown up at Cas and Meg’s house, and Cas’ practice, and scared a bunch of his young patients.  I felt terrible.

Sam’s firm has been forced to hire outside security to keep people out. Lucky for us Sam is one of the firm’s top earners so they haven’t even complained about the expense.

With the complete uproar in our lives, I had stuffed the envelope of pictures and the creepy note in a drawer and totally forgotten to mention it to Sam, he already had enough stuff to deal with.  I thought maybe they were from the same person who had tried to blackmail my mother and John.  But then he sent another even creepier package, and Sam got to it first.

I was making dinner and Sam was going through the week’s accumulated mail when I heard his sharp intake of breath and then he cursed. 

“Do you want to tell me just what the fuck this is, Omega?”

Sam rarely used that tone with me, so I knew he meant business. I immediately turned the chicken off and moved it to the back burner.  I dried my hands on a towel and joined him at the table. He had opened a manilla envelope that was mixed in with stuff from his office.

It was a strange mix of items. This time the folded piece of paper read: YOU CAN RUN BUT YOU CAN’T HIDE.

As I flipped through each item, the tight feeling in my chest got worse. There was a picture of me as a child swinging at the playground in Central Park. My father had been pushing me, but my father’s image had been burned from the picture. 

Sam’s long fingers moved over the faded newspaper article. It was from the New York Times heralding my mother’s first artificial heart transplant while she was teaching at NYU. She was pictured with some of her surgical team. Over my mother’s image was written LYING WHORE.

I felt sick when I saw the pamphlet from one of my shows at the gallery. On the back under my mini-biography was written my birth date, underlined several times. There was also one of our professionally-done family Christmas cards this one during my awkward adolescence, complete with glasses and braces, but my father’s face had been gouged out with something sharp.

“I need to show you something, Sam. I’ll be right back.”

Sam raised his eyebrow when I handed him the other envelope. I saw his jaw clench when he got to the pictures of us together, and I knew he was trying to stay calm.

“Before you start yelling, this came the day the press showed up on our doorstep. I thought it was someone trying to blackmail us so I blew it off.” I said defensively.

Sam scrubbed his hand over his face. He suddenly looked very tired and very worried. “We need to show this stuff to my Dad, Y/N. I want to see what he thinks. In the meantime, I don’t want you to go anywhere alone. I think you have a stalker.” He stood behind me and put his arms around me. “I’m serious, Y/N.”

“I’m supposed to have lunch with Cas tomorrow. What should I do?“

“I’m gonna call your brother and bring him up to speed on what’s going on. Then I’m going to call my Dad. I’ll be in my office if you need me.” He gathered everything and took it with him, closing the door behind him.

By the time Sam was finished I had dinner ready and waiting. “Cas will pick you up here and bring you back afterward. We are having dinner with Dad and Dean tomorrow to discuss this, okay?”

That night Sam held me close and rubbed my already-swelling belly. “So what kind of wedding do you think you want? Something big and fancy?”

“No! I’ve had enough big and fancy crap with my mother to last me a lifetime. I think I’d like just us. And maybe your Dad, Dean, and Cas. And a party later when I am not so rotund.”

Sam tucked his head into the curve of my neck where he had marked me. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. ” You are beautiful, ‘mega. My Dad is golf buddies with the Mayor. Did you know he can marry people? And by the way…. Your belly full of my pups is just about the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.“ He growled, his voice doing all kinds of things to me.

“So you want to marry me now before I need a crane to get me out of bed, is that what your telling me?” I teased, pressing my lips to his.

“Woman, if you had any idea how freaking amazing you smell when you are pregnant……” Sam groaned.

“I bet I taste even better,” I whispered seductively.

Later Sam agreed I did.

The next day, a solemn Cas came to get me for lunch.  I could tell he was worried.  “Sam told me about the stuff in the mail.”  He said once we were in the car.  “Why would anyone target you specifically?” He asked me.

“I haven’t told Sam this yet, but I think it has something to do with Mom.”

Cas was concentrating on driving, but I could tell he was surprised. “Mom? Why do you say that, Y/N?”

I took a deep breath.  “There is something I haven’t told you, Castiel.”

He guided the car to the side of the road and stopped.  “You’re making me nervous.  You only call me Castiel when you’re in trouble.”

“Remember the day Mom and I had our last big fight?” I asked.

“How could I forget? My ears are still ringing.” He joked.

“Mom told me that day that Charles Novak wasn’t my real father.  That she’d had an affair with one of her med students when she was at NYU.  Dad found out and threatened her with never seeing you again if she didn’t break it off, so she told me anyway.

Cas was silent for a long moment. “Do you believe her?” He asked.

“I don’t know.  She told me he died a year later.  But Mom said the reason she hates me is that every time she looks at me I remind her of what she gave up. She also lied to me about my trust, Cas  She never had control over it, Dad made sure of that.  I had full control when I turned 21.”

Cas looked shocked. “I don’t know what to say.  She always told me she controlled your trust. I never questioned her.”

“There isn’t anything TO say.  I don’t think she and I can come back from this.  Not this time.  I just needed you to understand why.” A tear slipped unbidden down my cheek.

He nodded solemnly. “I do, Sis. I am so sorry for everything she has put you through.”

After lunch, Cas drove me home and deposited me in Sam’s arms.  “Please keep me informed.”  He said to Sam before leaving.  Sam promised he would.

Lunch with Cas had tired me out, so I took a nap before we went over to John’s.  It was rare that he had a night off from campaigning, and I felt bad that he had to entertain us.  Jo wasn’t able to be there until later so it was just me and the three Winchester men.

John promised to speak to the Mayor during their Friday golf game about marrying us before he effortlessly slipped back into detective mode.  “Is there anyone you can think of who would have a grudge against you, Y/N?” he asked me.

“What? No!” I said adamantly.

“It seems like this person wants her to know he can get to her no matter what,” Dean commented, flipping through the pictures.

“So the envelope of pictures came first?” John asked.

“Yes, but I saw it second because Y/N didn’t tell me about it until later,” Sam commented.

“And this other stuff, what is the connecting thread?” John asked out loud.

I turned to Sam.  “I think this has to do with my mother, Sam.”

“Why do you say that, Y/N?” Dean asked.

“My Mom told me recently that Charles Novak wasn’t my real father.  I didn’t believe her, I still don’t know if I do, but I think this person is someone from my mother’s past.”

I told them word for word everything my Mom had told me. “I don’t know if any of it is true. My mother consistently lies to me.”

Jo breezed in at that moment from work, all smiles and full of excited chatter at my rounded belly. I needed to talk about something else for a while so I turned to Sam.  “Your pups want gelato! Can we walk down to Caruso’s and get some?”

Jo clapped her hands happily.  There is a boutique on the way that has the cutest baby stuff! Let’s go look!”

John begged off, saying he had work to do, so the four of us went.  Dean was more interested in the gelato than the baby stuff, but he was being a good boyfriend.  He casually mentioned he hoped he had two boys so he could teach them about cars and be the “cool uncle”.

The boutique had some really neat things.  In the back of the store was a race car bed, and Dean began arguing with Sam over why his son needed a race-car bed.  Jo went back to intervene.

I was toward the front of the store looking at a hand-painted piggy bank when I felt a chill down my spine and I looked up.  There standing on the curb was a man in a black coat.  His eyes were slightly manic.  He held up a sign.  It said in block letters THEY HAVE BEEN KEEPING ME FROM YOU.  Then he turned and crossed the street, disappearing into the throng of people.

“No, wait!” I yelled.

I dropped the bank I was holding and bolted for the door, desperate to catch up with the guy with the sign.  It was him.  I just knew it!  The bank shattered on impact but I kept going.

Sam was already moving in my direction as soon as I spoke, Dean a second later.  Jo threw some money at the cashier for the bank.  I could just catch a glimpse of the man hurrying through the crowd on the other side of the street.  I quickly stepped off the curb and dashed in the street to try and catch him.

I was so intent on not losing sight of the man I never even saw the car.  The last thing I heard was Sam scream my name,��“Y/N look out!” Then I felt a jolt and pain and everything went black.

Part 12

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