#and i got out of bed to go turn off her dialysis machine alarm

[spaghettificationstation]

hey google how to not get pissed off at a senile person you have to take care of

[bloodfromthethorn]

Can’t Wake Up

Sitting beside a hospital bed was bad. Sitting beside a hospital bed waiting for your friend to wake up so he could tell you who had kidnapped your missing partner was oh so much worse.

Part six of the July of Whump 2021 prompt challenge.

Also on AO3. 

..

It was starting to feel like Jack had spent more of his nights sitting in uncomfortable hospital chairs beside uncomfortable hospital beds than he had sleeping in his own apartment. No doubt if he were here, Mac would laugh at the notion and spout of some facts about the psychology of time moving slowly when you’re worrying about something, but then, that was rather the issue, wasn’t it? Mac wasn’t here.

Instead, what Jack had was a house in total disarray, a missing EOD tech, and a heavily drugged best friend who, six hours after being found, was still absolutely refusing to stir.

Arriving at Mac’s house to find the tell-tale signs of a fight and no blond in sight was a memory Jack never, ever wanted to repeat. Then he’d quite literally stumbled over Bozer’s body where it had slumped down beside the kitchen counter and Jack had momentarily forgotten all thoughts of Mac in his desperate scramble to find a pulse. He didn’t breathe again until he did, nearly collapsing with relief when he established Bozer was alive and seemingly not hurt.

Of course, he then had to revise that assessment when the paramedics he’d summoned discovered the track mark on the crook of Bozer’s elbow. Some hurried bloodwork panels had identified a heavy-duty anaesthetic that shouldn’t pose any real health risk, thank god, but that still left him sleeping it off while Mac was in trouble out there somewhere in the world. Even with Riley digging through every security camera and system she could find, the afternoon had slipped away with absolutely no progress on where Mac had gone or who might have taken him.

Somehow, someone had managed to get into Mac’s neighbourhood, break into his house without tripping the alarm, dose Bozer and nab Mac, and then flee the scene without ever once showing their face. Riley hadn’t even managed to identify a vehicle out of place on traffic cams – they’d momentarily thought they got lucky when they spotted a handyman van, but one completely unnecessary tac-team raid and a very confused plumber later, Matty was left making apologies and Jack returned to Boze’s bedside without success.

He ran a frustrated hand over his face with a sigh.

It felt like his day had been going on for a hundred years, but the very thought of sleeping was impossible. Mac needed him and despite what the nurses had been trying to tell him for hours now, Boze wasn’t looking so hot either. According to the Phoenix med team, he just needed to sleep off the drug and then he should bounce right back; even if they were wrong, they were keeping him in for observation to make sure they caught any unforeseen negative reactions. Jack wasn’t entirely convinced – he wouldn’t be until Boze opened his eyes again and, hopefully, told them what happened to Mac.

Without anything else to go on, Bozer was their only lead and he wasn’t waking up. If he didn’t – or if he did and he didn’t know where Mac was – Jack had no idea what he was going to do. Something Mac wouldn’t approve of, probably.

For now though, Jack couldn’t focus on that. All he could do was sit there and monitor the slightest changes in Boze’s vital signs as he gradually came out of sedation. Riley had wanted to be right there with him, but her connection was better in the War Room, and being able to use the big screen came in handy when she was juggling too many data feeds at once; the compromise they’d struck was that Jack had promised to call her the second anything changed with Boze, and she’d agreed to do the same if she found any information about his missing partner. So far, his phone hadn’t buzzed once.

“I don’t know if you can hear me in there man,” he said quietly to the silent room, “But if you can, I really need you right now buddy. Mac really needs you.”

Boze slept on, undisturbed. Jack took a shaky breath, sighed, and leaned back to settle in for the wait.

..

No matter how much Jack hoped and prayed and stressed and bargained, the clock ticked past midnight without a single stir. Another blood test had revealed that the levels of the drug pumping through Bozer had decreased substantially, but it was still clinging on. Jack was of half a mind to demand they get him hooked up to a dialysis machine to speed up the whole process, but even with everything going on he could understand that the risks outweighed any possible benefits. He wasn’t about to gamble with Boze’s life on the off-chance he had information about Mac.

Mostly he whiled away the time staring into space and desperately trying not to think of where his partner might be in that moment. Unfortunately, he never had been particularly good at not assuming the worst, and he had a long, dark history of run-ins with the lowest of the low to provide him with some truly impressive imagination.

He was able to distract himself for a brief while when his primary tac-team switched out at the end of their shift. All of them requested to be kept on despite the fact that they’d been working for a solid twelve hours – Mac was well-liked, and Jack had made a point of ensuring he got to know the boys with guns who always ended up running in to save the day – but he’d insisted they go home to get some rest. When they’d refused, citing his own hypocrisy since he had no intention of leaving the medical bay, he’d let them bully him into agreeing to call them when they got a lead on Mac. With that sorted, he’d settled in to brief the replacement shift who’d all immediately grasped the seriousness of the situation. At the rate they were going, by the time they did eventually catch up with Mac, Jack would have half of downtown LA backing him up.

“How’re you doing, man?” He asked when he returned to Bozer’s room. The nurses had been given orders to call him if anything changed, but it was clear at a glance nothing had. “You’re making me sleepy just looking at you, y’know?”

Like practiced steps of a dance, he shuffled back into his seat and cursed as his bones protested.

Twenty minutes later, the door cracked open and Riley inched her way inside with a coffee holder in one hand and her rig in the other. When he scrambled up to help her, she thrust the two coffee cups in his direction and planted herself firmly in the second chair to resettle the laptop on her knee. Programs Jack wasn’t about to try to even understand whirred away on the screen.

“One on the left is yours,” she said in greeting, nodding at the coffees. “Thought you could probably use some caffeine if you aren’t going to sleep.”

“Hey, hey, you don’t get to hassle me about it when you’re still here too. When was the last time you slept, huh?”

She sighed heavily, reached for her coffee, and shook her head. “It feels like years ago.”

The best Jack could offer her was a grim smile and a gentle knock to the shoulder as he retook his place at Bozer’s bedside. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“I still haven’t found anything,” she said after a long moment of looking over her slumbering friend. Jack already knew that because she’d have told him if she had, but the self-accusation in her voice was hard to miss. He whipped around to face her.

“Sweetheart, that’s not on you. You’re doing everything you can and sometimes that just ain’t enough. It’s not your fault.”

She digested that for a moment, and Jack got to watch the heart-breaking shift when the last ten hours caught up to her and her gaze suddenly turned watery. He had his arms out and was pulling her into his tightest hug before she had a chance to say a word.

“It’s okay,” he murmured in her ear as his shirt grew wet. He smoothed down her hair idly with one hand. “Don’t you worry none, it’s going to be alright. It’s okay.”

“I’m scared Jack.” Her voice was small and tremulous.

His breath caught in his throat, heart clenching painfully. “Me too darling. Me too.”

..

For all their waiting, when the moment finally came it all felt a bit anticlimactic. There was a slight uptick in Boze’s heart rate, and then five minutes later his eyes blinked open and he turned to look at the pair of them like nothing was amiss. Jack was so worn down by stress and exhaustion that it took him a second to realise he wasn’t imagining things.

“Boze? You with us?”

He blinked. “Jack? Riley? What-” His eyes did a quick circuit of the room, then down at the wires and monitors he was hooked up to. They let him do the math on his own and by the time he turned back to them, the sleepy haze had entirely vanished. “Guys, Mac’s in trouble.”

They’d known it all along, really, but the confirmation still felt a bit like being stabbed with a rusty blade. Still, Jack limited himself to just nodding. “We know Boze. We were kinda hoping you could help us out with what happened.”

Bozer was already trying to pull himself up, tugging off his pulse ox and chest tabs as he went then glaring at the monitors as though it was their fault they were suddenly beeping in alarm. Riley pointedly leaned over and flicked them off in turn. “You remember that mission three months ago, in Bolivia?” Boze was saying. “With the human traffickers?”

Riley was already tapping away at her laptop, pulling up mission reports and key phrases and a whole host of information Jack was distantly sure she should have access to.

“Yeah,” he said instead of questioning it. “We cut off the supply and took down that big guy running the thing. Cameron?”

“Callahan,” Riley corrected without looking up.

“Yeah,” Bozer agreed instantly, snapping his fingers. It was hard to remember how still he’d been just a moment ago now that he was all but vibrating with animation. “Him. Turns out he had a brother. Guy busted in through the back, got the drop on me and Mac. Brought some friends with him for good measure. I didn’t catch all of it, but he said something about wanting to make him pay for letting his ‘merchandise’ go.”

Something sick turned over in the pit of Jack’s stomach but now was not the time to dwell on the more horrific aspects of society. Now was the time for action, and if Jack had his way that action was going to be violence.

Riley’s fingers were like lightning over her keyboard.

“Ri, you got something for me?”

She didn’t break stride. “Not yet, but I think I’m about to. Go get your team, I’ll call you.”

Jack hopped to his feet with sudden energy, clapping a warm hand to Bozer’s shoulder before snagging his jacket and darting from the room. That was one member of his team safe – now it was time to save the other.

Now continued in part 2. 

[wonderful-writer]

15 - Great Escape

Summary: Tensions run high as Clarke and Y/n still don’t trust Mount Weather. Upon the reveal that an officer with severe radiation burns is nearly healed less than a day later, the girls make a break for it and discover a secret that Mount Weather has been hiding for years.

Word Count: 3.43k

Based Off: 02x02, “Inclement Weather” & 02x03, “Reapercussions”

The next day, you and Clarke sat on her bed, trying to figure out the map. “It just doesn’t make sense. No exits, no emergency plan, nothing.”

Jasper looked over the rail of her bed and said, “It’s not bad. Maybe they’ll hang it up on the walls here one day.”

You smiled at your brother and he smiled back, turning his attention to the door as Miller and Maya walked through. 

“Miller,” Clarke said, sitting up on the bed with you. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

You gave a short wave to him, which he returned. “Yeah. It only took, what, 3 surgeries?” 

“I hear you guys are fitting right in.” His tone seemed upset, puzzling you. Clarke looked to Maya and she looked away bashfully before handing a bottle of pills to Miller.

“Twice a day, don’t forget. You’ll be okay in a few days.” She slipped the duffel bag off of her shoulder and handed it to him, turning to Jasper and walking away, while Miller put his bag on the bunk next to Clarke’s.

Not long after, alarms startled you and the other delinquents as maya turned and made her way out of the room. Clarke stopped her and you got to them in time to find out that the alarms meant that someone from the patrols had returned injured.

You and Clarke turned to follow her, but Jasper grabbed you by the wrist and spun you both around. 

“Hey, Y/n, what are you doing?”

“Maybe they found survivors. If our people are hurt, we have a right to know.” 

“I’m pretty sure we shouldn’t just go wandering around.” 

You both had left before he could properly finish his sentence, following after Maya. Jasper ran to catch up with you.

“Who attacked them?” Clarke asked the man who was briefing Maya.

“What are they doing here?” He asked the girl.

Clarke turned and took the keycard from the man behind her, pressing it to the keypad beside the door.

“Stop! It’s not safe!”

“It is for us.” You said, walking through the door with Jasper. 

You ran down the long hall with Clarke, passing paintings as you went. She stopped as the hallway ended and split off into two directions. 

“Guys, slow down!” Jasper called after you. You ignored him and followed Clarke into the first door on the right. “Stop pushing so hard, these people are--”

He stopped himself as he saw the body on the table, covered  by a clear plastic sheet. You and Clarke looked at the wound, before she continued Jasper’s sentence.

“Are lying to us. That’s a bullet wound. Grounders don’t use guns.” 

“Unless the grounders got the guns from us,” Jasper tried. 

“I don’t think so.” You stepped in. “I think our people are alive out there.” 

You turned around with Clarke to see what Jasper was looking at, when Dr. Tsing and two other men, all in hazmat suits, brought in a man covered in blood and burns from the radiation. Another man in a hazmat suit led the three of you out of the room and the quarantine ward, back into the regular halls of Mount Weather. 

Jasper went back to the 48’s living quarters, while you and Clarke went to the dining hall to confront Dante.

“We need to talk.” Clarke demanded.

“Sure. Let’s talk over breakfast.” The man agreed.

“Who shot that soldier?” You asked abruptly. 

Dante guided you and Clarke to the corner of the room to talk privately. “The patrol that was looking for your people was attacked by what you call grounders.”

“We’ve fought grounders. They don’t use guns.” You explained.

“I never mentioned guns.” Dante defended. “Sergeant Shaw was shot by an arrow.” 

“That’s not true. I-I saw the wound.” Clarke countered.

“Sometimes, we feel so strongly about our people we see things that aren’t there,” Dante told  you. 

“We’d like to see the body.” You asked. 

“Of course,” Dante smiled and went to put his plate away. You looked at Clarke with suspicion about the situation, her looking at you the same way. Both of you knew something was going on and were determined to figure it out. 

“Come with me.” He directed you back to the quarantine ward and you waited in an empty room for Dr. Tsing to bring in the body.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” She said as she wheeled in the gurney. “We had to finish decontamination.”

She stood next to Dante as you and Clarke stood beside one another on the other side of the gurney. 

“Thank you, Dr. Tsing.”

“The man with the burns,” Clarke brought up. “How is he?”

“He’s improving,” Dr. Tsing told her with a little bit of hesitation.

“We would like to talk to him,” You mentioned.

“Sir,” She addressed the President. “Only patients are allowed in medical.”

“We can arrange that,” Dante told you. Dr. Tsing pulled down the sheet to Sergeant Shaw’s waist as Clarke pointed to the round object sticking out of his chest.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a dialysis shunt,” Dr. Tsing replied. “We all have them in case of exposure.”

“Would you like to see the exit wound?” She asked you. You and Clarke nodded and she began to pull Sergeant Shaw's arm to get his body on it’s side, showing you the exit wound.

“Sergeant Langston was forced to push the arrow out in the field.” She and Dante, who helped hold the body, let go as she went to the cupboard behind her to retrieve the arrowhead.

She showed it to you and Clarke, who seemed to begin to believe the fact that she only thought she saw a bullet wound, but you didn’t. If Sergeant Langston was forced to push the arrow out on the field, why would they still have the arrowhead? Why would he keep in to give to the medical staff instead of leaving it where they put it after it was out?

After that, you went back to the living quarters, which were much less lively than this morning. Jasper approached you and fell in line with your walk.

“What did President Wallace say?” He asked.

“He showed us Shaw’s body.” Clarke told him. “It looked like an arrow wound.” 

“Maybe because it is an arrow wound?” 

“Or that’s what they want us to think.” You suggested. “What? They could have doctored it.”

“Y/n, you sound like a crazy person. Why do you want to screw this up for us?”

“Yeah, well, I’m not. The arrowhead was still bloody when they showed it to us and they said they had to push out the arrow in the field. No one keeps the arrowhead of an arrow if they’ve already removed it from a body.”

“And we don’t even know what this is.” Clarke said.

“This is… safe. This is food, a real bed, clothes, and my personal favourite-- not getting speared by grounders. How long do you think they’ll let us stay here if you two keep this up?”

“Did someone threaten you?” Clarke asked him.

“Heh, no. No. It’s common sense. Look, we’re guests here. Not prisoners. What would you do with a guest who kept calling you a liar and generally acted like an ungrateful ass?” Jasper asked.

“Kick their ungrateful ass out.” Miller responded from his bed without looking up from his book.

“Right now, our biggest threat to us is you guys.” With that, Jasper walked away and left you and Clarke standing there. You didn’t feel like a threat. You knew these people were lying to all of you. You and Clarke just had to prove it to everyone.

Later that night, the 48 were all hanging around in the dining hall, doing their own things. Music played and everyone chatted while you and Clarke sat in chairs near the entrance, her holding the map she drew. Frustrated, she balled it up and threw it in the trash.

“Langston,” One of the guards said, catching your attention. “Where are you going man? Tonight’s movie night.”

“I gotta pass. Doc says I got one more treatment.” He replied. Just a few hours ago he was red and covered in burns, how had he looked almost untouched by the radiation now? 

You looked at Clarke, wondering if she saw the same thing. She followed Langston and you followed her, watching as he got in the elevator to go to medical before heading back to the living quarters. 

“Only patients are allowed in medical,” She muttered, looking at the sharp corner of the bunk bed. You nodded at her from the other side and she removed the bandage from her arm as you did with yours, running your arm across the corner, cutting your stitches as Clarke did. 

You could’ve reopened your stab wound, but cutting it with the edge of the bed would have been really hard to do and you couldn’t have reached it by yourself. However, the cut on your arm proved to be enough as Clarke collapsed soon after she cut herself. You weren’t bleeding as much as her, but you extended the cut further than it was, passing out a couple of minutes after. 

After the bandages were placed on your arms, you and Clarke woke up, watching as Dr. Tsing walked to the door at the other end of the room and scanned her keycard to go into the restricted room. 

Clarke got out of her bed and you followed, watching her try to wake up Langston, but to no avail. The burns on his hands and face were no longer as bad as before, also noticing that his dialysis shunt was in use, pumping blood into his system. 

Your eyes followed the tube from the machine and into a pipe, following said pipe along the wall, until it disappeared. Clarke tried opening the door that led to the other room, but it was keycard activated. You took a step back and noticed a vent, just beside the door.

“Clarke,” You whispered, pointing to the vent once she turned around. You opened it, using all of your upper body strength to climb into the vent, Clarke following after. You crawled the length of it, pushing the opening on the other side until it clattered to the floor, allowing you to get through.

The first thing you heard was the mechanical whirring and a ventilator hissing, realizing what it was for when you looked around. Two people hung from their feet, monitors and wires connected to them as they were unconscious. You noticed a tattoo on one of their bodies, marking them as a grounder. 

Tubes were taking their blood and circulating more back in, bringing you and Clarke to the same realization: They were using grounders for their blood.

You turned after Clarke called your name, seeing even more grounders in cages, moaning in pain. They reached out to the two of you as you passed their cages, watching Clarke bend down to one of them. You did the same, recognizing who was in it as you bent down.

“Anya?” You and Clarke asked. 

“I’m gonna get you out of here,” Clarke assured the woman as she struggled with the lock. After she couldn’t get it open with ehr bare hands, you and her walked away to find something to open the cage with. 

Clarke found an electrical pipe and ripped it from the wall, using it to break the lock open. You opened the cage door while Clarke started helping Anya out of the cage. Dr. Tsing came into the room and caused you to panic, Clarke pulling herself into Anya’s cage with her while you hid at the end of the cages, praying she wouldn’t see you. 

As soon as she was there, she was gone, and You moved from your hiding spot to meet Clarke and Anya and help support Anya by putting her other arm around your shoulder like Clarke had done. You made it over to one of the doors that said it was the end of the containment area, entering a room with no other doors. The doors behind you slid closed and you began to panic as Clarke attempted to pry them open. 

An alarm similar to the one from when you tried to leave started to blare and Clarke stepped away from the door, back to where you and Anya stood.

“What is that?” She asked. 

“I don’t know,” Clarke responded. The floor gave out beneath you and all three of you began to fall, sliding down some sort of chute. You landed among more bodies, most of them still breathing. Barely alive, but alive nonetheless. 

You three began to panic, getting out of the body ridden cart, while Anya stayed sitting, checking to see if the boy in front of you was still alive. 

“Anya, take my hand!” Clarke yelled. Anya accepted and pulled her out of the cart, landing on a railroad. 

“We’re out.” Clarke said, noting the door that would lead us back into the mountain. You looked around and saw what looked like a pile of clothes, moving towards it. 

“Hey. Come on, get dressed.” You said, kneeling down and picking up the clothes. “We’re not going to cover any ground dressed like this.”

Clarke followed, picking up some boots and sorting through the clothes as Anya still rested on the cart.

“I won’t leave my people behind.” She said. 

“Anya, listen to me. My people are still inside that place, too,  but they have guards. They have weapons. Once we get out of here, we can find help. We can come back.” Clarke assured her.

“There is no ‘we’.” Anya snipped. You heard voices come from the other end of the tunnel and Anya noted that someone was coming.

“Not just someone. Reapers.” Clarke said. Anya went to pick up a boulder to fight, but Clarke argued that she could barely stand. 

“I have a better idea, come on.” You got into the empty cart on the tracks, helping Anya get in while Clarke threw the clothes into it. She hopped in and you all closed your eyes as the reapers approached the cart, tossing the bodies from the cart you fell into along with you three.

The cart began to move, wheels creaking as they moved along the tracks. You tried your best to stay still and keep yourself covered as the reapers hauled one of the bodies from the cart and away from you. You heard him scream and Clarke got up to check if the reapers were distracted, which they were.

“Okay, come on.” 

You and Anya sat up, but she went over to the other person laying in the cart.

“What are you doing? Let’s go.” Clarke asked, keeping her voice low. 

“Yu gonplei este odon.” Anya whispered, snapping the man’s neck and saving him the misery of being torn apart by reapers. 

You moved to get the clothes out of the cart with Clarke, jumping out and moving back down the tunnel without being seen. You got dressed as you ran, Clarke cursing as you couldn’t find your way out.

“Damn it! This place is a maze.” 

Anya coughed and stopped running for a few moments, giving you time to shrug on the jacket you found. “What are they doing to us?”

“They’re using your blood.” You responded. “We saw a soldier come in with radiation burns; hours later, he was fine.”

“It’s like your blood is healing them somehow.” Clarke told her. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” 

“Come on, this way.” You and Clarke started walking again and Anya went the other way. You turned around to catch up with her. “Hey, what are you doing? That’s the way back to the reapers.”

“You go your way, I’ll go mine.” Anya said. 

“Anya, we need to stick together,” You told the woman. 

“I told you, there is no ‘we’.” 

“I saved your life.” Clarke rebutted.

“You saved my life because you need me.” Anya corrected her. “I know the way back to your people. I know where the traps are hidden. You’d never make it alone.”

“We don’t have time for this.” Clarke decided, turning back around with you. “Our best chance of making it out of here alive is together. All we need to do is keep moving and hope—“

She turned and saw no traces of Anya, causing the both of you to whisper her name and go the way she went. You turned around once more and started running when you saw firelight, indicating that the reapers were coming. 

You kept running through the tunnels, pausing every little bit to catch your breath and check to see if reapers were behind you. You stopped abruptly when a reaper started towards you both from the direction you were running in. You went to the natural light on another pathway, but another reaper stopped you, and you turned around and saw even more coming from that direction.

It was safe to say you were trapped, and likely going to die. You backed yourselves up to the tunnel wall as the reapers closed in on you, but as a high-pitched ringing filled your ears, the reapers cowered away and covered their own. You and Clarke looked to your left to see two guards in hazmat suits. One with a flashlight, and the other holding the device that caused the sound.

“Get the hell away from them! Now!” The reapers started to run away and the one holding the flashlight turned to you.

“Clarke Griffin and Y/n Kane, you’re coming with us.”

The guards led you back to the door and as you approached it, Clarke began to speak. “I saw everything. I know what you’re doing to them.”

“That’s why you’re both going in the harvest chamber with them.” The guard told you. 

“Alpha-Delta 2, we’ve reached the intake. Two prisoners in custody.” He spoke into the intercom.

“Your mission was to bring back three. The outsider cannot be allowed to leave this mountain. Alpha-Delta 1 is coming out now.” A voice came from the intercom. 

To your surprise, Anya jumped down from somewhere you couldn’t see and attacked the guard that held you. Clarke grabbed the mask from the man who was at the intercom, leaving him to the radiation. 

“His mask!” You shouted. 

Anya pulled the mask off of the other guard and told you she found a way out. You both followed her back down the tunnel, but not before Clarke grabbed the discarded gun. You ran just as more guards came through the door. 

You both ran with Anya, stopping at an opening that led to a very far drop into water. 

“Wait, there has to be another way!” Clarke yelled over the rushing water.

“There isn’t,” Anya shouted back.

“Just give up, girls. You have no place else to go.” The guards shouted as they aimed at the three of you.

Anya looked between the two of you and jumped down into the water, Clarke calling her name as she went.

“We don’t have to kill you two. Do you hear me? It doesn’t have to end like this.” The guard told you. “Just surrender.”

You and Clarke kept looking from the guards to the lake below, weighing your options. Clarke dropped her weapon and you put your hands up, walking towards the guards. As they looked away you turned and ran, jumping into the water with Clarke, when everything went black.

You woke up again on rocky terrain, coughing up the water that had entered your lungs. Clarke was beside you doing the same thing, and Anya beside her, waiting for you to finish. You rolled over and sat up, hearing Clarke thank Anya for saving her.

“I think we should go back to the dropship first.” Clarke suggested. “So I can see who my people--” Anya smashed a rock over Clarke’s head and straddled her. 

“We’re not going back to your dropship. You killed 300  of my warriors. I can’t show my face without a prize.” She tied Clarke’s hands together with rope and then did yours, you putting up no struggle to void getting hurt any further.

She hauled you both up and tied a longer rope to both of your bound hands, dragging you along like you were her pet. You didn’t know that this was what was going to happen when you escaped Mount Weather, and now you had to try and fight your way out of another bad situation and try to get home. 

Taglist:  @soullessbabee​ | @hyperion-moonbabe-art3mis​ | @dummythiccwitch​ | @sireddobrev​ | @gxvrielle​ | @hurricane-abigail | @holyhumorliteraturelight

[timotey]

Ficlet: A Piece of You (Now a Part of Me)

Dark Blue Kiss/Kiss Me Again ficlet, PeteKao. Set at some point in the future.

Notes at the end of the fic. For @inlovewithjdramas. Sorry it took me so long.

Pete is in a car accident. Kao isn’t. They both end up in the OR.

🤕🤕🤕

He wakes up to dull pain. All over, really. He doesn’t understand. He tries to move - and then, a much sharper stab, in his abdomen, so sharp in fact that it steals his breath away. He gasps.

A rustle, a soft voice, “Son? Pete, are you awake?”

His dad.

Clenching his teeth, Pete turns his head to the side and cracks his eyes open, just a little. “Dad?” he croaks out.

His father, dressed in scrubs and with a surgical mask on his face. Only his eyes are visible and they look old. Old and distressed and relieved and tearful. 

Pete tries again. “Dad? What hap’n?” What’s wrong with him?

His dad strokes his hair gently. “You had an accident, son,” he replies softly.

Accident? “Car?”

“Yes, a car accident,” his dad says.

A car accident. Where was he going? Pete racks his brain for a while - his mind is foggy and fuzzy and running sideways it seems - and then it comes to him: He was meant to pick up Kao from school.

Kao!

His eyes open wide, alarmed. “Kao?” he croaks out.

His dad leans closer, takes Pete’s hand in his - gloves, he has rubber gloves on - and assures him quickly, “He wasn’t in the car with you. He wasn’t there. I promise.”

Oh. The relief is so profound, so deep that it saps all of Pete’s strength - he had so little of it, how odd. His eyes close. “So where… where is he…?”

He doesn’t hear the answers. 

He falls asleep.

xXx

The second time he wakes up, it’s day. He doesn’t remember if it was day before; it’s all blurry. But now it’s day and he feels better. Much better, actually. And there’s a nurse puttering around his bed, a pretty older woman in scrubs whose eyes smile brightly above her surgical mask when she sees him awake.

“Good morning,” she greets him cheerfully.

Pete looks around slowly. “My dad?” he asks.

“I finally convinced him to go home and get some sleep!” the nurse replies, adjusting Pete’s blanket a little.

Good, Pete thinks. 

“And… and my boyfriend, Kao? Was he here?” Pete hopes that he was. But at the same time he hopes he didn’t just sleep through Kao’s visit.

The nurse clucks her tongue. “He tried - he was very adamant - but the doctor wouldn’t allow it.”

Oh. Pete guesses that only family members are allowed in the ICU - because that’s where he’s been staying, apparently - and it makes him sad, the thought that he might not get to see Kao before they let him out of here.

But then the nurse continues, “She ordered your boyfriend to stay in bed for at least one more day. The surgery went exceedingly well since you’re both strong, healthy boys--” Then she pauses and looks Pete up and down. “Well, apart from all the bruises and scrapes you suffered, honey. But, yes, you both passed the surgery with flying colors and you’re going to be just fine - in time. It was a major procedure, after all. Your boyfriend, though? All he seems to think about is you!” She sighs and shakes her head.

Pete stares at her as she rants about the foolishness of youth and then he cuts in with a sharp, “What surgery?”

The nurse falls silent and her eyes widen. She glances towards the door and shuffles her feet uncomfortably. “I thought-I thought your father told you…” she stutters out, apparently realizing that she said something she maybe shouldn’t have.

“What. Surgery?” Pete repeats firmly, glaring at her. The machines by his bed beep loudly, telling the world all about his anxious state of mind. What happened? Where is Kao? How is he?

Stepping closer, the nurse waves her hands quickly, trying to get him to calm down. “He’s fine. Your boyfriend is perfectly fine. I swear. I promise,” she blurts out, obviously realizing the cause of Pete’s distress.

And yes, those words do allow Pete to dial down his anxiety a notch. Still, he frowns at her and his voice is firm and unbending when he asks her, “What is going on here? Tell me now or I swear I’ll climb out of this bed and go find out myself!”

“Fine,” the nurse allows. “Your car accident, it really messed up your internal organs, mainly your liver. The doctors had to remove it.”

What?

“And since there’s no dialysis treatment for liver like there’s for kidneys, you needed a transplant immediately,” she continues. “Your father, of course, offered but he’s too old and his health isn’t up to something like this, even though he’s in a spring condition - for his age. So your boyfriend stepped in. From some past school project he remembered you two had matching blood types and…” She shrugs. “We did all the necessary tests and he was a perfect match.”

Pete stares at her. Kao… Kao gave Pete a part of his liver? There’s a piece of Kao inside him now? Pete touches his abdomen, stunned. “Is Kao-is he really alright?” he whispers. That he himself almost died will hit him later, he’s sure. But right now, all he can think about is Kao.

The nurse smiles. “He’s doing really well. Liver is actually a very adaptable organ. In time and with the proper medication and care, it’ll grow back and you’ll be both as good as new.” Then she adds, her smile turning fond, “You’re a really lucky guy, you know? Your boyfriend loves you very, very much.”

Pete smiles back, just a little; he won’t be able to truly relax until he sees Kao with his own two eyes, until he checks for himself that Kao’s really okay, he knows that. But he still smiles and petting his abdomen lightly, he replies, “I know.”

He loves Kao, too. Very, very much.

xXx

The third time Pete wakes up, it’s evening, the sun is about to set - and Kao is there. He’s sitting slumped in a wheelchair by Pete’s bed, dressed in a hospital gown. He’s holding his abdomen with his left hand and Pete’s hand in his right one, rubbing Pete’s knuckles with his thumb.

“Hey, love,” Kao greets him warmly when he sees Pete blink his eyes open groggily.

When Pete hears Kao’s voice, when he feels his touch, he’s immediately wide awake. “Kao,” he whispers, studying Kao warily, looking for signs of… something. Kao hurting? Feeling ill? Uncomfortable? But besides a slight twitch now and then when he moves wrong, there’s nothing. Kao really does seem fine.

“How do you feel?” Kao asks softly, staring at Pete with so much love in his eyes that it makes Pete’s throat thicken a little. 

Pete shrugs. “Good. Like someone pulled through the wringer but… good. Thanks to you, from what I heard,” he adds, turning his hand in Kao’s and squeezing it.

Kao smiles.

Pete’s next words startle him, though. “You shouldn’t have done that. What if something went wrong? What if-what if you hurt yourself for nothing? What if--” 

He cuts himself off because his mind still can’t work its way around the fact that Kao really did that. That he willingly let them cut him open and carve out a part of him, that he gave a piece of himself to Pete, just like that.

“You would’ve done the same thing,” Kao replies.

“No, I wouldn’t have,” Pete snaps back but there’s no heat behind his words, no real conviction. Rudeness is his knee-jerk reaction to… well, to fear. Not of his own injury or death but of Kao’s.

Kao smiles again and lifts Pete’s hand to press the back of it to his own cheek. “Alright.”

Pete… Pete looks away. The fondness in Kao’s face, the understanding in his eyes, they make his throat grow thick again. He hates dealing with emotions. He hates that Kao knows him so well. 

Well, not really. No. He doesn’t.

Kao brushes his lips across the back of Pete’s hand before pressing it against his cheek again. “How about you just promise me to take better care of yourself from now on, huh? A piece of me is now a part of you so, you know,” he shrugs,  “I have a rightful claim to you. And I’m not giving you up.”

Kao’s words, they make Pete’s chest feel all warm, they make him happy. Still, he grumbles as is his wont, “Well, it’s not like I blew my tire on purpose. Could happen to anyone.”

But Kao’s response is a simple, soft, “I know.” He doesn’t bicker back. And when Pete looks at him, he sees the stress of these last… who knows how many days reflected in face. Pete can’t even imagine what it must’ve been like for Kao. He doesn’t want to imagine himself being in Kao’s place, seeing Kao--

Pete clears his throat. “Alright. I promise,” he mutters and when Kao’s whole face brightens, he looks away again. Kao’s happiness makes Pete… it makes him... it’s so… 

“I love you, Pete,” Kao tells him.

And squeezing Kao’s hand tight, holding onto it as if it were his lifeline, Pete replies, softly but with much feeling, “I love you, too.”

xXx

Notes: I based this fic on a Hawaii 5-0 episode and the comings and goings in the transplant ICU on my own experience from when my mom got her kidney transplant. It might differ by the country, though.

[justjessame]

Babysitting Butcher Chapter 34

The logistics of letting a human guinea pig out for a day wasn’t nearly as difficult as I imagined. The hard part was convincing the man I adored to believe that my mom and I were more than capable of going house hunting while manning a cellphone armed with alarms set for each of my manual dialysis scheduled without getting distracted by shiny things.

“Billy,” I was doing a bang up job of NOT rolling my eyes during this, the fourth attempt to convince him that he was better off at work, “you need to type up those reports, and Mom and I BOTH have the alarms set, PLUS she had Dad have the car company add it into their online system just in case. And I KNOW for a fact that the doctors here are planning on calling to make sure I don’t forget, and you’ll probably check in during the day too.” I was trying to smile. I really was, but honestly. “I’m not writing the reports again.” There it was, the gauntlet. Tossed at his feet.

Billy’s lips quirked in a way that said he wanted to argue, but knew he couldn’t. Not without looking like he was shirking work. “Fine, but I plan on calling every-”

“Single time I’m due for a treatment,” I finished for him, leaning in to kiss him deeply. “I don’t doubt it for a moment.” I winked at him when I broke the kiss. “Still overprotective and ridiculous.”

“Still fucking proud of it,” he nudged my nose with his and dipped in for another kiss, arms around my lower back, holding me lightly since I was hooked up to the regular machine still. My heart rate monitor skipped a few beeps, but no one came running because that was a common occurrence with Billy around. “Gonna at least send me photos of our new house?” I smiled up at him, loving the fact that he was being more agreeable with the entire idea of it all.

“I plan on sharing videos of the ones that look promising so we can go back and look again together, Mr. Butcher.” I bit my lip when his eyes widened. “What?”

“You want me to go with you, again?” I nodded, and his smile lit up his face, making him go from slightly frightening bear of a man to breathtaking saint who may make a girl’s panties ignite.

“How can we make a final decision if you don’t see them yourself?” I tilted my head to study him, thinking that I wanted to see him smile more, all the time if possible.

“Veronica Taylor, and you say I surprise you,” he shook his head and moved one hand so he was holding my cheek. “You’re a marvel.”

“Our house, Billy. You said it, OURS.” I smiled up at him.

 Funny little thing about a dialysis catheter, no matter if it’s ‘temporary’ or not, finding something to wear while leaving it somewhat available isn’t the easiest of tasks. Luckily, my mom, with MY key, was up to the challenge. She came back with more than one option, knowing that I liked to make my own choices. She also thought it smart to stick to flats, for which I wanted to and acted on the urge to hug her.

“Ronnie, calm down.” I was grinning when I pulled back and she rolled her eyes. “What? It’s not a terrible nickname.” My mother had HATED nicknames when I was little, it’s why I’d never really had one until Billy gave me one. And here she was using it.

She took a seat while I changed, the doctor had removed my lead from the machine moments after Mom arrived. A duffle filled with the necessary equipment was taken to her car waiting by the curb, while she was in my room with me in case I ran into trouble getting dressed in real clothing for the first time in forever.

I’d gotten a shower the night before. Billy had helped, much to the nurses’ amusement, and I even managed to get clean. Inside and out. So my hair was nice and smooth, my skin had a rosy glow, and I could ALMOST forget that I wasn’t leaving for good. Soon, I promised myself, as I slipped my feet into my shoes, soon.

 The realtor Mom had chosen was a friend of one of Dad’s clients. She met us at the entrance of the gated community and we followed her through to the first of five houses available in this area, but she had another four nearby if we weren’t excited by what we saw.

As Mom drove through the neighborhood, I was surprised when she made a dismissive sniffing noise. Turning toward her, she glanced at me and smiled. “It’s just, this isn’t really YOU, Ronnie.” I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Took her long enough, but hot damn, I think my mom was finally figuring out just who the fuck I was.

“I’m trying to keep an open mind, Mom.” I muttered, managing through sheer will to not crack up laughing. We pulled into the first driveway, behind the very perky agent and I got out my phone as Mom kept hers at the ready for the alarm.

 Mom was right, of course we both knew she would be once we drove through the gates and were surrounded by McMansions. Luckily, the agent, after waiting while I dosed myself during a video chat with Billy, took us to the other offerings nearby and further from other houses. Billy, typing while chatting through our tours, and my treatments (which Mom helped with on the third and fourth goes), helped me narrow the second trips to three houses. The agent, with the patient of a saint or a woman who saw a sale coming, smiled and confirmed that she’d keep an opening the following afternoon, since Billy refused to wait longer. Single minded, remember? And one more treatment, lunch at Mom’s insistence, and I was back at the clinic before Billy finished his own work day.

 Billy came to see me after work, because even with a running commentary throughout the morning, and even with a day planned for the following day, he couldn’t stay away. I shook my head when I looked up from my laptop where I’d been going over his reports. Editing out a few of his sentence enhancers before sending them in, I smiled as he took the chair across from me.

“Ronnie,” glancing up, I saw that he looked like a cat who ate a canary and sat back. “How are you feeling, love?” I raised an eyebrow, feeling suspicious of whatever had Billy looking like He solved the hardest riddle in the world. Wait.

“You did it?” He stared at me. “You found a way to get Homelander caught and tried and maybe publicly executed.” OK that last part might have been revenge porn on my part, but could you blame me?

His smugness dropped and he shook his head. “No. I haven’t pinned the Caped Cunt to the wall, yet.” Damn it. I felt a frown form, but then the doctors came in smiling and asked if he’d told me. Wait. What? “Not yet, she tried to guess, but-”

“Ah,” the head quack was still grinning and he gestured for me to get back on the bed. Shrugging I did as I was asked. “Well, Dr. Taylor, we have amazingly good news.” Yeah, sure, I thought. Like the time you had great news about the green jello. “We finally managed to isolate it.” It? I must have looked as stupid as I felt because he continued and explained. “The variation that you were given, we isolated it. The traits were completely muddled because the person who introduced them to your system mixed TWO variations.” WHAT?! “After all the testing, one of our interns chose to think outside the box, so to speak, and asked a question that we hadn’t.”

I was laying down as one of the other doctors approached and took a moment to check the lead that would normally hook into the dialysis machine, but hadn’t, since we’d planned on trying out the night machine that I’d be switching to eventually anyway. Another tech had three syringes filled with God only knew what, but the doctor was explaining to me, and Billy that once the intern had realized that they’d only looked at single variations and NOT coupled or tripled ones, they started testing those combinations. The antidote, they hoped, was in the three needles that they were about to inject into my catheter.

Billy stopped them. Always vigilant and careful, he had questions, which I was thankful for because my brain was still playing catch up. While he’d been smug and excited when he came in, he was also cautious. He wanted them to make me understand why they were sure they figured it out, and as they explained more fully, I watched Billy and it dawned on me. He thought I’d gone quiet and stupid because of my slip into madness and fear that he’d kill me. Jesus.

“Guys?” The doctors were on a roll and clearly enjoyed the sound of their own voices and their own intelligence, but I repeated my call for a moment. “I get it. You figured it out. Could you shoot it in and get me out of here already?” Shit, enough. Billy’s eyes were on mine, but I rolled mine. “Overprotective and ridiculous.” I muttered, as the first injection was given.

 Discharge wasn’t immediate. I mean, I’d nearly gone thermonuclear before. I’d have to stay for observation and I told Billy we still had to go to the appointment with the realtor anyway, who knew, maybe he’d love one of the houses more than the one we lived in currently and it would be truly OURS. Since the necessity for a machine was moot, or at least mootable, we squeezed together on my bed, refusing to spend the first night of what could be our future without fear hanging over our heads apart.

The beeping of my heart monitor lulled us to sleep and I didn’t steam, or feel too warm, or get dizzy all night long. I woke up needing to pee, and after I extradited myself from Billy’s arms, I trudged off to the bathroom, happy to find no blood anywhere. No spots in my vision came as I headed back into the room, and I felt hopeful. Even when the doctor joined us once Billy was up and marginally less rumpled than first waking and told us that I’d have to take the supplies with me same as the day before as a precaution and return for a check up after, I still felt positive.

They took blood, more tests, but this time it was to see if an actual antidote worked.  It was to see how much longer I'd have to be under observation.  Then they sent us on our way, to at least partial freedom, and at that point, I'd take it.  Because it was a pathway to the real full one, and that made all the difference to me.