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paper-n-ashes · 3 years

Text

sparks and embers - chapter 5

Characters: Poe Dameron x Original Female Character, Kylo Ren x Original Female Character

Story Tags: Explicit (18+), Canon Compliant/Divergent (Set after TLJ), First Person POV, Love Triangle, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Porn with Plot, Hurt/Comfort, Kylo Ren hates Poe Dameron

Chapter 5 - Bubble

Words: 5.8k

Chapter Tags/Warnings: Tiny mentions of illness, mention of parental death, gratuitous use of the 'there was only one bed?' trope

Read on AO3 or Start from the beginning

I scurried away as lightly as my feet could take me, heart thumping as I made it to the other side of my quarter’s door. Holding my breath, I listened as Poe shuffled down the hallway, waiting for him to knock on the wooden shield I was hiding behind, exposing his knowledge of what I’d done. But it never came, instead hearing his hobbling steps enter the ‘fresher, water hissing out of the tap.

Thank the stars, maybe I’m safe.

I hurried to shut off any remaining light sources, climbing into my bed to bury my face under the sheets. Holding myself in frozen silence, the rushing water stopped, and muffled uneven footsteps paced back down the hallway.

Eventually, the realisation of what had happened started to settle into my brain. What I’d heard him do. What I’d done. What he’d said.

He was thinking of me.

A blush prickled my cheeks, the heat in my lower abdomen dulled but still noticeable. I tried desperately not to think of what could have happened if we’d kissed earlier, if I hadn’t pulled away so sharply. It nagged at me, this sudden desire damning me for not giving in to the urges ignited from Poe’s presence. I would have known what his skin felt like connected to mine, I would have known the smell of his sweat, I would have known what his lips tasted-

Stop doing this to yourself. It will only hurt more.

My eyes squeezed shut, obeying what the voice told me. I began to make a list of everything I had to carry out when the next day broke, the patients that had standing appointments, the treatment notes I had still yet to finish.

Being in my own bed for the first time in days made it easier for me to drift off into a quiet slumber.

When my chronometer buzzed at 0700 I groggily opened my eyes to the new morning, wishing I’d had more than 4 and a half hours’ worth of sleep. I nuzzled my face into the pillow for a few moments, hoping for nothing more than to extend my peaceful resting.

But my first consultation was set to take place within the hour, and I still had to make time to do the vitals check on Poe that had to be… rescheduled. A pang of embarrassment and heat spread quickly through my chest at the memories, rustling it down into the back of my consciousness. I needed to start focusing on my work again.

No more distractions.

Pulling myself up slowly from the bed, my eyes glanced outside the window to the still rising sun, rays of light now pouring in past the clear glass and hitting me with a subtle warmth as my legs moved over the side of the mattress. I allowed myself to bask in it for a minute or two, hoping it would somehow invigorate my enthusiasm for the day ahead.

No such luck.

Making my way into the ensuite fresher, I frowned as my reflection came into view. I looked exhausted. Copper hair was beginning to unravel out of the low plait I spent most days wearing, errant strands stuck to the skin on my forehead. A rosiness had settled into my cheeks, starkly contrasted to the rest of my face, another indication of the minimal sleep I’d had.

My eyes were slightly droopy, hazel irises only half visible. Sluggishly, I took the elastic holding together the weaves of my plait and shook the hair free, fingers combing through to soften out the knots created from tossing in the night.

Slipping off my clothes, I stepped into the shower, pressing the start button to an instant rush of molten water, basking in the sensation of the pressured stream massaging my aching muscles. I hadn’t realised how sore I was from the long trek I’d completed for Poe, but it was all too noticeable now when my body pulsed in delight from the searing heat flowing into my skin.

After freshening up to my normal state of being and donning my usual work attire - a light button up blouse and deep navy slacks, I worked to reform my hair into a loose plait that sat over my shoulder, twisting the strands smoothly down my chest.

It took me a few minutes of hesitation before I could push myself to walk out of my quarters. I was nervous. Not only for the way Poe and I parted, but also for how I’d caught him hours later. How was I supposed to not blush after hearing the way he moaned my name? How was I not supposed to refrain from thinking about the way it had made me come instantly?

He’s your patient. Just treat him like anybody else.

That’s the thought that ricocheted through my mind as I paced down the hallway, steady breaths preparing me for the rush of bashfulness I knew I wouldn’t be able to avoid. Rounding the corner, I saw the hospital drapes had been closed to shield Poe’s bed from view, moving closer to hear the relaxed sounds of his breathing muffled through them.

Damn, he was still sleeping.

I had been hoping he would already be awake, simply to avoid the awkward disturbance of restful sleep. I hated it, hated shaking patients into consciousness just to prod them with medical equipment. I could always tell they despised me for it. But there was no other option. I had put this off for long enough.

My fingers slipped through the drapes’ opening and slowly forced them apart, thinking Poe’s eyes would immediately open at the rattling of metal rings against the rail. But as my stare scanned his body, then his face, he was still snoozing soundly. And it was anything but elegant.

He laid on his back, diagonal across the length of the mattress, the uninjured leg poking out from the sheets and foot completely free from the support of the bed. His casted arm was resting on his stomach, hand reached under the night shirt, exposing his lower abdominal muscles and the flickers of dark body hair trailing down from his navel. The other, bandaged arm was flung backwards over his pillow, face pressed into the cloth covered bicep, mouth hanging open, chest slowly rising and falling in his deep slumber. I wanted to giggle, but settled for a quick smirk before moving to the bedside.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, I shook him gently. “Poe?”

He rustled only slightly, mouth closing and forming into what I could only conceive as a smile.

“Poe?” I called to him again, the pressure on his shoulder harder this time. “It’s time to wake up.”

“Alex?” he breathed sweetly, eyelids still not unlocked, my chest tightening at the way he said my name. I barely had time to process it when his eyes suddenly flitted open, pupils widening at seeing my face not far from his. He recoiled almost instantly, neck sprouting upwards from the pillow in surprise, quickly jerking around to survey his surroundings.

“I’m sorry to wake you,” I said tenderly as he rushed himself back into a normal lying position. “It’s just… I need to take your vitals and check how those burns are healing.”

He shook his head rapidly in an attempt to rid himself of the morning haze. “Sure,” he coughed, voice gravelly. “Go for it.”

I pulled the leads from their hooks on the wall and positioned them on him, both of us pitted in silence. He wouldn’t look at me as I waited for the results to appear, instead staring straight at his feet, struggling to hold down the irritability peeking though in his expression.

“You’re not much of a morning person, are you?” I observed, failing to stifle a laugh.

He simply shook his head, still not letting his eyes deviate. “I usually am. This morning… Not so much.”

“Did you not sleep very well?” I began to enter his stable vitals onto my datapad, writing a few notes detailing his recovery so far.

His jaw tightened. “I didn’t get to sleep until pretty late.”

“Oh,” I breathed, urgently trying to abate the rush of blood to both my cheeks and in between my legs. “Were you in pain? Hungry? I’m sorry I didn’t come and check on you.”

I wasn’t about to tell him that I’d tried and failed. I didn’t want to embarrass the both of us by reciting how I managed to catch him in such a… vulnerable position.

“You’re sorry?” he puzzled, eyes finally reaching mine as I sheepishly looked up from my datapad.

“Well… um… yeah. What happened last night-”

“Stop,” Poe interrupted, his expression finally softening. “Stop apologising. I’m the one who should be asking for forgiveness.”

“But I-”

“Alex.” Poe stopped me as I started to unravel the edge of his bandage. “I shouldn’t have been so… forward. You were right. It was inappropriate. You’re... my doctor, and I shouldn’t have put you in such an uncomfortable position.” There was a tinge of shame flickering in his bronzed irises, his jaw taut. I could sense there was still more waiting on his tongue. But I didn’t want to pursue it further than that. I didn’t want to get caught in the black hole of wondering why he’d felt so strongly in that moment to kiss me.

“Let’s just both be sorry and forget it ever happened,” I smiled.

He reciprocated my soft grin. “Sounds great.”

Neither of us were going to forget about it.

“Thanks so much Miss Jago!”

I waved my midday patients off from the front entrance, the burnt, crumbling ruins of Poe’s X-wing still disturbing my view of the Raxus countryside now brightly illuminated in the heat of the noontime sun.

“See you in a month!” I called as the small children, twin siblings, scurried to catch up with their parents who had already begun their several hour journey home. As much as their monthly visits warmed me, I hated they had to make it so often. It was unfortunately necessary to treat the musculoskeletal disease they had been born with - one that slowly ate away at their muscles. They were mere infants when their parents had brought them to my door, tiny little bodies wasting away for an undiscernible reason. Thankfully with a diagnosis, regular check-ups, injections and medication, I’d helped them grow into normal little kids.

This was the impact I wanted on the world.

I’d left Poe to his own devices after finalising my assessment of his injuries. His X-rays indicated adequate signs of healing, most of his wounds mere red lines, and the severe burn on his left arm had healed extensively, so much so that I hadn’t needed to replace the bandage over his skin.

It was still obvious he’d sustained damage, but the scarring that’s taken place of the seared flesh looked like it had been healing for a long time. I knew in my bones that it wasn’t the bacta that did all that work, and hoped yet again Poe wouldn’t somehow come to that realisation.

“Huh, I thought you said there was third degree burns under there,” he had questioned, still seeming impressed.

“There was,” I answered shortly. “Bacta and time does the trick.”

He hadn’t inquired beyond that, once again accepting bacta as a wondrous miracle cure. Which it was, but not to this extent.

I stepped back into the clinic room and returned to my computer, typing a few last notes into the twins’ file.

“They were cute,” Poe chirped across the room, sitting at the portable desk I’d provided for him to continue working on BB-8 while I was with patients.

“I’ve been seeing them since they were babies,” I said flatly, still concerned with my inputting.

“I can tell,” he added. “They actually seem excited about coming to the doctor. Didn’t even cry when you gave them the needles. They must like you.”

I hoped he was too far away to see the manifestation of a stroked ego display on my face. Hitting enter on the last of my records, I stood out of the chair to make my way to Poe’s makeshift workstation. “How’s the repairs coming along on your little friend?”

“Slow,” he huffed. “Especially with my arm still in this cast.” He looked up at me then, asking a silent question.

“No,” I stated sharply. “The cast isn’t coming off until tomorrow.”

He made a playful attempt at a frown and returned his concentration to the complicated weave of wire and metal in front of him. Humans, and most aliens, seemed a lot less complicated to fix than this.

“The crash really messed him up bad huh?” I noted, kind of too obviously.

“Yeah, but his circuits seem to be a little more fried than I would have expected. He’s got big impact dents, a decent amount of smoke and fire damage, but that doesn’t really explain a lot of the wiring damage I’m seeing in here.” Poe pointed to the domed inside of BB’s head, a maze of tiny circuit boards connected to an absolute mess of melted copper wires.

I didn’t have a very educated mind concerning robotics, but still made my guess anyway. “Electrical sparks maybe?”

“Hm,” Poe hummed. “It seems that way. Although hardly anything that would have been caused by fire or ejection into a concrete wall.” He was deep in thought again, attempting to precisely pull apart the wires with fine pliers. But he was right, the cast did impinge on the proper use of his hand.

“How about a break?” I chimed, truly believing he needed it.

He raised an eyebrow. “What kind of break?”

“A break from this, using your brain and uh… hands.” I tried to smile cheerfully but it felt a little more like pity. “We could go for a walk, get your rehabilitation started.”

Poe’s eyes sparkled at my suggestion. “Oh thank the maker, I thought you were never letting me out of here.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’ll take that as a yes then?”

“Absolutely!”

It took an infuriatingly long time to convince Poe to use any type of walking aid, outright refusing the z-frame, snubbing the bilateral crutches, only begrudgingly accepting to use the walking cane he was leaning on now as he finally got a chance to inspect the remnants of his near-fatal crash landing.

“I made it out of that,” he said faintly, and I couldn’t decipher whether it was a question.

“Just,” I reminded him.

He turned to look at me, eyes widened, glowing with disbelief. “Have I said thank you enough yet?”

“You’re getting there,” I chuckled. “You’re just lucky you crashed on my doorstep. Who knows what would have happened otherwise…”

I knew. He’d be dead.

“Lucky is right,” he mused, the shimmer in his eyes not having faded yet.

“Come on, let’s get you walking.”

I turned in the direction of the north village’s path, stepping in relaxed strides as to not tempt Poe into further straining himself. He followed my instruction, limping beside, albeit much less unsteady than he’d been without the cane.

We were quiet as I allowed him to focus on the task of walking, not wishing to distract him from learning how to safely put one foot in front of the other again. Soon he had settled into a steady rhythm, and I glanced sideways to see Poe’s face finally survey his surroundings.

Luscious green fields rolled out in every direction in front of us, large plots of land lined with wheat grass and varying vegetation, all separated by short, rustic wooden fences. Trees dotted the path we took, tall and flourishing from years of undisturbed growth. I could hear the canaries whose nests littered their branches start to chitter at the sound of our footsteps, many high-pitched chirps fluttering from under the cover of shrubbery.

“It’s beautiful here,” Poe marvelled, his face almost as bright as the sun that shone over us. “I can see why you picked this place.”

I smiled warmly. “I did a small amount of research.”

Hours and hours.

“Evidently. Although, a thought did come to me…”

“Hm?”

Poe was quiet for a few beats as we strolled slowly along the gravel path, then asked, “Why didn’t you bring anyone with you? Why do this all alone? Don’t you miss your family?”

Kriff. Pulling out all the difficult questions.

“Well… I suppose I’ve always worked best alone. Even through my training I found it would take me less time to come to the correct answer or work through a procedure if I didn’t have anyone interrupting me.” I stopped with a realisation of how the words spilled out my mouth. “Uh… did that sound too conceited?”

Poe chuckled. “A little. But I understand. Some people are just wired that way.”

I laughed with him in response, hoping he would forget the rest of his queries.

“Alright, I can understand the lack of co-workers. But what about family? Raxus is an incredibly far place to travel from Coruscant. I can’t imagine you simply cut all ties and left one day to live in the Outer Rim, alone.”

Yet that was the cold reality, the truth lingering through every day I spent on this planet.

“Are you okay?”

Poe had noticed the shift in my mood, the subtle pain in my expression.

I nodded with a smile that didn’t dissolve into the rest of my face. “They understood. They just wanted me to be happy.” I swallowed slowly, focusing all my concentration on keeping the tears from forming at my eyes.

I need to get off this subject fast.

“What about your parents, don’t you miss them while flying to every corner of the galaxy for the Resistance?”

Poe stopped suddenly, myself following suit, and he smirked a little. “I do. My father is on Yavin 4, lending a hand to the civilian defence of the colony I grew up in. And my mother…” His eyes softened as he reminisced, the smile never fading from his lips. “She passed when I was 8, so I’ve... missed her for a long time. And I’m sure she misses me from wherever she is now.”

Our eyes met, a swirl of profound soothing energy radiating between us under the midday sun. He didn’t know it, but the shared feeling of loss in the family we would never be able to see again was a comfort to me, to know someone else sensed the weight of grief on their shoulders too.

We were still for a few moments, both ruminating within our own minds, until our footsteps simultaneously crackled on the ground again. As we walked, I could almost feel a tangible stripping of the hardened layers I’d built over years to frame my consciousness, never daring to let anyone get too close to the core, the truth.

The way Poe spoke without hesitation of consequences, the way he so willingly trusted me, the lightness that it made me feel, I couldn’t help but want to mirror his energy. I wanted to let him in.

You’ll regret it.

You know what? I don’t care.

At first we talked of our childhoods, recounting the differences between the sprawling, artificial cityscape of Coruscant and the vast jungles and rainforests that encompassed Yavin 4. Poe spoke of climbing Massassi trees with his father, attempting to learn how to track Woolamanders by scent alone, and his first hazy memories of sitting on his mother’s lap, playing with the controls of an X-wing.

My memories were more rudimentary by far, as I recalled my schooling in classes of hundreds, learning how to transverse the maze-like Level 4860 without becoming lost, and the rare trips to the higher levels that I journeyed with my parents just to see the sky.

As we made our way back towards the clinic, we regaled each other of the differing sides of war, him attempting to avoid the injuries of battle while I took pride in mending them. It was effortless the way we conversed, a lack of discussion never opening up to an awkward void of silence. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so weightless, the heavy shackles of my long-kept secret feeling looser around my soul.

A twinge of disappointment tugged at me once we’d reached the clinic building again, wanting to remain in this floating bubble of contentment for so much longer. But there were still patients to see.

Poe was visibly drained from our long hike, a small tremor of exhaustion and pain beginning to tremble through his body as he eventually hobbled back into his hospital bed. I was able to renew his analgesia drip before a knock at the door indicated my 1400 appointment had arrived, albeit a little early.

To my surprise, and relief, it was a small crew of east village tradesmen, tools in hand, having carted along the scrap parts that would hopefully put my comm-tower back in working order. A familiar, gruff looking man with kind eyes, salt and pepper hair and a short beard framing his jaw, reached out to greet me.

“Alexys!”

“Vixur,” I beamed back, embracing him in a curt hug. “Thank you so much for coming. I hope the trek wasn’t too tiring.”

“Nothing we haven’t done before.”

The 3 others with him nodded in agreement. I recognised their faces but couldn’t find their names hidden away in my brain. They were all considerably younger, so I assumed they hadn’t needed my care so much over the last couple of years.

“These are a few my trade students, to help me. So… where’s this broken comm-tower?”

My eyes moved to look behind them. “Uh... under the wreckage. Just over there.”

They all craned their necks around in unison, Vixur’s face falling into look of unease. “This might take a little longer than expected Miss Jago.”

I gritted my teeth into an apologetic smile. “I know. But anything you can do to get it working would be unimaginably helpful. The comm-tower allows me to order supplies and do my research. I’ll be useless without it after too long.”

“Guess we better get to work then,” Vixur remarked, giving me a warm smile before ushering his crew towards the metal debris.

My chest thumped with appreciation for the older gentleman I’d known since I’d arrived on Raxus, one of the few who volunteered their time to assist in building my clinic. It was one of the things that cemented my belief I’d made the right choice to settle on this planet, just to help people like him.

As the four men began to carefully take apart the burnt metal frame of the X-wing, I returned inside to find Poe already back behind the workstation with BB-8’s insides splayed across the metal.

“I thought you were resting,” I scolded.

He didn’t look up, attempting exactly what he’d been struggling with before leaving the clinic. “I was bored. I’d rather be sore and busy.”

I chuckled under my breath, my rear almost reaching my desk chair before another knock resonated into the room.

An infected foot wound, an angry rash, a burning pain during urination. Just a few of the patients whose appointments brought little in the way of fascination for my afternoon.

Poe continued his work silently behind the hospital curtain to provide at least some privacy for my examinations. I felt the aura behind the screen grow intense with repulsion as I discussed the less than glamourous issues with my patients, burying the need to smile at the thought of Poe’s sickened face. Being in this line of work for so long allowed me a resistance to the kind of aversion most people felt being faced with nauseating and embarrassing conditions of the human body.

I had just waved farewell to my last patient of the day, when Poe’s voice suddenly piped from behind me. “How do you do this every day? I thought I was going to be sick hearing that woman talk about her foot,” he winced.

I turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been in battle, but can’t handle a little pus?”

“Blood and ugh… pus… are two completely different things.”

“Hm… Poe Dameron, pilot extraordinaire, Commander of the Resistance fleet, battle hardened military man, is afraid of a little pus?”

He took my mocking with good humour, conceding. “Don’t tell anyone okay? Wouldn’t want my enemies knowing my one weakness.”

“Somehow I don’t think I’ll be making contact to help out the First Order anytime soon.”

“I would hope so,” he stated lightly, “We don’t need someone like you patching up all the holes we put in their soldiers.”

I knew logically he meant it as a joke, but it still minced at my insides, a flush of irritation coursing through me, and he could tell when my face fell.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, remorseful. “When you’ve been involved in war for so long it’s easy to become a little… indifferent about the other side’s casualties.”

Indifferent? More like ignorant.

How stone hearted did one have to be to consider the deaths of millions at the hands of fleets and armies just par for the course? To deem the deaths of those who just happened to be on the opposing side not even worth a second thought?

I worked my whole life to keep people’s hearts beating, and people like him could so easily stop them, seemingly without guilt. He made my work, past and present, feel absolutely pointless.

People would keep dying as collateral, and those who sentenced them to that fate didn’t even care.

All the positive emotions that had bubbled up for Poe during our walk today suddenly popped, disappearing into the air in an instant, leaving little behind.

I looked to Poe with narrowed eyes, my tone icy. “Good thing there’s people like me who actually value life instead of readily wanting to take it.” I marched from his hunched frame towards the hallway, too tired from the day to spend more time arguing about war again.

“Alex! Wait a second! I didn’t mean it like that!” he echoed from behind me, his voice ricocheting off the walls as I stormed away.

Slamming the door of my quarters, it was difficult to deny the tears of frustration threatening to break from my eyes. I feared his stubbornness wouldn’t allow any reprieve, and it appeared I was correct when I heard his disjointed footsteps becoming louder. Gritting my teeth, I felt the burning sensation of bile simmering in my stomach. His knock was faint, and not accompanied by his voice asking for me.

I strode back to the door and swung it open. “What?!”

Poe’s eyes grew wide at my snapping question, not appearing as hostile as I’d imagined. “The tradesman is at the door asking for you,” he muttered sheepishly. I was rattled for a moment at his lack of antagonism, before pacing back to the front entrance as he slunk onto the hallway wall, letting me pass by without challenge.

Vixur was there to greet me just inside the door, a sly smirk curling his lips. “Who was that Alexys?”

“He’s a patient, the one who survived the crash that wrecked my comm-tower,” I grumbled, in no mood for Vixur’s assumptions.

“Right. Sure.” His smile didn’t fade quickly enough for my liking. “Anyway, we’ve managed to clear most of the wreckage, and start our rebuild. But I’m afraid it’s still not even close to being finished.”

“I can’t say I wasn’t expecting that. Sorry it’s such a big job.”

“It’s perfectly alright, I had a feeling you wouldn’t have made a trip to the village unless it was important. We’ll set up camp out here for the night and hopefully have it running tomorrow.”

The thought of these men shivering in the frosty Raxus night, for what was really Poe’s benefit, made me feel heavy with quiet fury.

“No Vixur!” I protested. “You and your students don’t need to spend the night out in the cold! I’ve got four hospital beds in here, and they’re at least somewhat comfier than the ground. And so much warmer.”

“I thought you said you had a patient?” Vixur’s eyes drifted behind me, and I turned to see Poe leaning against the hallway door.

“Oh, he doesn’t require my treatment anymore. I’ll find a place for him. There’s plenty of floor space in this clinic.”

Vixur seemed to successfully gauge my mood, unease twisting his expression. “It wouldn’t feel right taking away a bed from the man who survived that crash.”

“It’s fine, really. He hasn’t proven to be half as selfless as you and your men have been today. It’s honestly the least I could do for you.”

I could sense why Vixur was wary. I had never acted like this before, vindictive and petty. But Poe’s hideously callous mindset had wrestled out a restrained wrath that was bubbling to the surface.

“Well… okay then. I’ll round up my boys and bring them inside. Much appreciated Alex.”

I swivelled on my heels to Poe’s downcast expression, knowing he’d listened to the conversation. “You can move BB-8 and your things into my office,” I said flatly, before beginning to strip the sheets off the bed he had called his for the past couple of days.

He didn’t say anything, mouth clamped shut as he followed my orders and collected as much of BB as possible into his arms.

It took him a couple of trips, and I faintly twinged with contrition as he limped back and forth from my study. But it was quickly buried in the heap of bitterness weighing heavy in my chest.

After renewing the sheets of the bed and helping the men settle into the clinic for the night, I showed them where to help themselves to my food stocks and offered them use of the ‘fresher. They were hideously thankful, and it made me contemplate what kind of sleeping arrangements they had in their village to be so appreciative of the lumpy hospital grade mattress I was providing them. It only soured my mood even more.

Yet another thing that war bestows.

It was mildly surprising that Poe didn’t pounce on an opportunity to debate with me in a way to clarify his stance, wondering how long he would let me have the last word. He had skulked away into the study to continue his repair on BB-8, his solemn aura a far contrast to the spiky air that hung in the air around me.

I fell into my usual nightly routine of reading, bathing, and dinner, begrudgingly making Poe a meal and placing it in front of him without muttering a word. He let out a soft ‘thank you’ as I left back to my quarters, and the same pang of guilt tried to rise up again, this time a lot harder to submerge.

It didn’t sit well in my body, this cold resentment that continued to churn through my blood. It felt foreign and unknown to my usual state of being. I knew it was because I hadn’t had to face a person like this, who deemed war and death necessary companions, in such a long time. I found myself impatient for Poe to leave, to return to an existence being surrounded only by those who had been too traumatised by war to ever consider it an acceptable burden in life.

It was starting to get late in the evening, my weariness from the day becoming increasingly powerful as I lounged on my sofa, waiting for Poe to get out the ‘fresher so I could instruct him he was to use my bed for sleep tonight. The doctor side of my brain had eventually won despite my irritation, pressing that he was still a man who had painful injuries and needed a comfortable place to rest them.

The ‘fresher suddenly opened, Poe rushing past my door back into the office before I had a chance to stop him.

“Poe?”

He slinked his head around the corner first, seemingly startled I had called for him, before shifting his body slowly into the entryway.

“Yeah?” His voice was gentle, albeit slightly hollow.

“You’ll be sleeping in my bed tonight,” I asserted, tone firm and professional.

Poe cocked his head to the side. “With you?”

“No,” I sighed, exasperated, thinking that fact would have been obvious. “I’ll be on the couch.” I patted the pillow and blanket I had beside me.

“Right, of course,” he mumbled. “I thought you had banished me to the floor.”

I took in a slow breath, trying to be more cordial than I felt. “It wouldn’t be good for your recovery.”

“You don’t have to. I could take the couch.”

I shook my head. “It wasn’t a question.”

“Right,” he conceded, quicker than I expected. “Are you going to sleep now?”

“Yeah,” I yawned. “As your doctor, I would suggest you do the same.”

His face seemed bruised at my coldness, and I felt a lump form in my throat as guilt tried incessantly to escape into my expression. But I was too tired to care anymore, and sleep would mean I was closer to being free of his mood-altering presence.

I pulled the pillow over to the opposite side of the sofa and fluffed out the blanket so I could slip myself under it, facing away from Poe still self-consciously standing at the door. I heard him eventually tread over to my bed and climb in, the faint rustling of fabric filling the air until there was silence between us, yet again.

I tried my best to sleep. But I was restless, mostly from the discomfort of my sleeping place, the couch providing little in the way of relaxation for my tired body. There was also an incessant torrent of thoughts nagging at me, unable to stop turning over the conflicting emotions I had towards Poe.

In such a short time I felt so close to him, so connected, both care and desire climbing higher with our time together. Now that already fragile bond was frayed at the edges, threatening to snap in two.

In reality I barely knew him, spending only a handful of days in each other’s lives, yet somehow within that meek time frame I’d felt more attached to this man than anyone I’d encountered in my lifetime.

But his differing morals couldn’t be denied, and they wounded my soul, made me feel useless in this already overwhelming universe. What hope did this galaxy have when even the self-proclaimed heroes of the war don’t see themselves as murderers too? Did they think because their ideals were more noble that it allowed them to freely kill without care?

It didn’t seem to matter what side someone found themselves fighting for. Each had different causes, different reasons behind their crusade, but they produced the same outcome. A whole lot of death.

I heard Poe sit up all of a sudden. “Alex?”

“Hm?” I answered groggily.

“Can we talk?”

Next Chapter

Tag list: @tlcwrites @roanniom @foxilayde @blackberries45 @hopeamarsu @caillea @princessxkenobi @leatherboundbirate @blowthatpieceofjunk @mylifeisactuallyamess @poedameronloverx @lightsinthedistancee @paterson-blue

(Please let me know if you wanted to be added)

#poe dameron #poe dameron x original female character #kylo ren #kylo ren x original female character #star wars #star wars fanfiction #adcu #adcu fanfiction #poe dameron x reader #kylo ren x reader

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kidney9-9 · 4 years

Note

the reader is tom (holland’s) girlfriend and she gets diganosed with cancer?

Hi anon ! hope you like this! Thank you for sending this in! just a small disclaimer, I don’t know lots about cancer, so I sort of used the symptoms I went through with my autoimmune disease. If you have any questions, send some asks or message me :))

Masterlist

Tom Holland x Reader (Fluff/Angst) Warnings: cancer, sickness, swearing, mention of blood Word Count: 1.4k

You coughed harshly, leaning away from your boyfriend as he watched on worriedly. “Babe, you alright?” He asked, rubbing circles into your back. You nodded your head to him, as another coughing fit went through your body, and you covered your mouth with your arm, closing your eyes tight. “You sure?” Tom questioned, as you leaned over the couch, starting to feel lightheaded from all the coughing.

“I’m fine,” You pushed out, breathing in deep after sitting back up straight. You gazed over to him, apologetic, “I’m really sorry, I think this cough is just bugging around my system a little longer than usual.” You explained, wiping the small tears from your eyes that formed from the fit.

Tom pulled you in for a hug on the couch. You sighed into his chest, as he wrapped his arm around you. “Do you think we should take you to the doctor’s? It’s been about three weeks, babe.” Tom mumbled down to you, softly wiping your hair from your face.

“I’m fine, just going to stick it out for another week. I’ve got too much work to do, I don’t think I can afford a sick day.” You explained back to him as he sighed at your answer.

Tom kissed the side of your head, speaking up again, “You sure, babe? I want you to feel better.” You nodded back to him, smiling at his care for you. Tom kissed your head again, making you giggle back, but it caused you to cough again, and you quickly stood up away from Tom, leaning down into your cough. He stood up quickly, holding your hair and your shoulder as you squeezed your eyes shut, feeling your throat and chest start to burn.

“It’s going to be okay, babe.” Tom whispered affectionately, furrowing his eyes in concern at you. You breathed in, slowly standing up. You wiped over your mouth, glancing down at your hand, and scowling at the blood from your cough. Tom leaned over, peering down at your hand with a gasp, “Fuck, you sure you don’t want to go to the doctors?” He mumbled, gazing back to your face with a frown.

“Yeah, probably just coughed too much or something…” You trailed off, gazing back to your hand with a grimace.

Another week passed by, and you managed to finish your work. Tom kept insisting to take you to the doctors, but you declined. It just pissed you off that this thing kept bothering you. First the coughing and blood, and now you were even started to lose your energy faster. A pounding was constantly in your head and your chest always hurt when you laid down, and anytime you moved, you found yourself more stressed and exhausted.

You were barely even lifting your eyes awake when you stood for longer than an hour. Of course, you didn’t show Tom any of this stuff, you even told him that blood in your cough was a one-time thing. It wasn’t though, it happened every day now, and you tried drinking some water to sooth your throat, but it never helped.

Today it was the worst it has ever been. It was a Sunday, so thankfully you didn’t have work and Tom insisted on staying with you when he heard your scratchy voice over the phone. “I made you some soup, babe. And got some breadsticks as well; maybe we can watch a movie?” He called out from the kitchen. You slowly grinned to yourself, feeling lucky to have such a caring boyfriend. You cleared your throat to respond but groaned when you felt a knot of blood come up again.

You quickly spit it out in one of your tissues, “Thank you, Tom. You’re the best.” Your voice came out finally, as Tom started to pour some soup into a glass bowl for you.

A loud crash rang out from the kitchen, making you jump up from your seat, “Babe, you okay?” You exclaimed, rushing into the kitchen. Tom glanced back up to you, then down to the bowl with a sigh, “I’m sorry, it spilt on me.” He explained.

You shook your head, “It’s all good, don’t worry. I’ll go get some supplies.” You responded, coughing out from your reaction. You shouldn’t have ran like that, since now you started to feel faint and you couldn’t breathe in correctly.

You took a few steps away from Tom as he thanked you, before you chocked a cough out again. Black spots rained in your vision as you took another step. “Are you okay?” You heard Tom ask, but you couldn’t respond. Another step in front of you, you tried breathing in but you were coughing uncontrollably, blood spilling from your mouth.

Your next step failed, and you crashed onto the floor, passing out.

When you woke up, you were in a dimly lit room, and you frantically moved your head around, trying to see where you were exactly. “Tom?” You questioned, seeing him sit next to you, with his head hanging low, and his hand on your bed.

He quickly sat up, head hitting the wall behind him, causing him to groan. “Babe, you’re awake! How are you feeling?” He exclaimed, hand sliding into yours and griping it lightly. You tilted your head back to him, and glanced down seeing yourself in a hospital gown, “What happened?” You asked, confused.

Tom sighed, brining his other hand to his face and rubbed it. “Babe...we’re running tests right now, and I swear, you are going to be alright. I promise you will,” You cut him off by squeezing his hand, and shaking your head to him.

“What- what’s happening to me? Where are the doctors? Just tell me, please.” You ranted out, feeling scared as Tom frowned back to you, as another heavy sigh came out from him. He started to rub his face again when he felt the tears start to form, and you frowned at his red face.

“Please Tom, what’s wrong?” You questioned, trembling from anxiety as he shook his head, leaning down to you. He kissed your forehead, and squeezed your hand again, harder this time.

“They…they think you have lung cancer. They’re running tests again, but you’re going to get a biopsy soon… I don’t know.” Tom explained, as tears started to run down both of your faces. You shook your head again in denial, scoffing at him in disbelief.

You furrowed your eyebrows together, ripping your hand from his. “I don’t have cancer, what the fuck? I have a cold or something, it’s fine… I want to leave; I know I don’t have cancer!” You exclaimed, groaning at the number of IVs in your arms. Tom shook his head at you, trying to smile sympathetically but he couldn’t.

“Please, babe, stay here.” Tom begged, as you tried moving up in bed, making you cough harshly. You glanced over to him, fear in your eyes, “I can��t have cancer.” You responded, crying as the pain in your chest doubled, when you moved around.

“It’s crazy, but we’ll make it through together, okay babe? I love you and I will stay with you. We’re going to do get through and be happy, and you’re going to be healthy again. Please, stay here, I want you to be okay, I love you.” Tom pleaded, as the door opened with a few of the nurses. You tried not to look or focus on them, and only gazed at Tom.

You hesitantly nodded back to him, gaining a small grin from him. “I…We’ll get through it.” You repeated his words, closing your eyes, and laying back down with a shiver. “I love you too.” You finished up, as Tom leaned down to kiss your cheek.

You didn’t know what else to say or think weeks later, knowing you have cancer. You started your treatments immediately, but you felt almost numb to them. Tom was always there for you though, holding your hand and giving your shoulders or cheeks kisses randomly, and whispering sweet words to motivate you. Sometimes you couldn’t get out of bed, sometimes it was because of how sick you felt, and other times it was because of how you coped. Tom still stuck with you through the lows, supporting you through everything and anything.

He loved you just like before, as you loved him.

Taglist: @lozzypoz321 @belleknows (taglist open!)

#tom holland #tom holland angst #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland/reader #tom holland/you #tom holland fanfiction #thank you for sending this in!#love y'all #kidney9-9

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tired-sunwitch · 5 years

Text

Herbs/spices A-z

Anise - wards evil, happiness, divination, protection. Treats cough and cold, helps headaches and hangovers. (avoid with slow blood clotting meds)

Agrimony (churches steeple, cocklebur, holly rope, st. john herb) - protection, banishment. Aids sleep and diarrhea. (don’t take if diabetic, or pregnant/breastfeeding)

Alfalfa - prosperity, money, fortunes, sun. Energy booster, laxative, cleanser, prevents cholesterol absorption. (avoid with slow blood clotting meds, immune system suppressants, or on birth control pills)

Ashwagandha ( Withania, poison gooseberry, winterberry) - adaptogen, treats fatigue, helps with memory and mental clarity, mild sedative, somnifera (soporific) (don’t take if diabetic or if pregnant/breastfeeding)

Astragalus (Huang Qi) - banishments. aids fatigue, anti-inflammatory

Basil (st. john wort) - dispells confusion, love, projection, wishes, luck, success, protection, banishment, fidelity, trust, money, trust, deception, clarity. Calms, relieves pain, fatigue, improves clarity, eases a headache, antibacterial, aids bug bites

Bay - divination, purification, protection, vision, wisdom, strength. Eases indigestion, coughs, colds, and fever (don’t take with narcotics or sedatives)

Bladderwrack (fucus vesiculosus, black tang, cudweed, rockwork,) protection, sea, and wind, travel, money. Aids arthritis, joint pain, digestive disorders, heartburn and anxiety (external use only)

Boneset (eupatorium perfollatum) - protection, exorcism, treats cold, cough and constipation. (don’t use if pregnant/breastfeeding, severe diarrhea w long term use)

Black peppercorn - exorcism, protection, curses. Anti-inflammatory, heals ulcers, arthritis

Borage (starflower, Bannon, bugloss, bee bread, ox tongue, cool tankard) - power, courage. Treats colds and bronchitis (don’t take if pregnant/breastfeeding, seizures, don’t give to children)

Broom (genistein, lupine gorse, laburnum, blood from a head) - protection, money, purification, wind, divination,. Diuretic, cathartic (top only, poisonous in large amounts, vomiting, lowers blood pressure, extreme upset stomach)

Buchu (agathosma betulin, bookoo, diosma) - prophetic dreams. Diuretic, antiseptic, antiinflammatory (don’t take if pregnant/breastfeeding, stomachache, hepatoxic)

Catnip (Nepeta Cataria) - love, luck, optimism, quarrels, mind control. Reduces stress, aids mood and sleep, soothes teething, colic, diarrhea, and anxiety. (causes drowsiness, don’t take with lithium/sedatives)

Chives (Kudda, Nira, Allium Schoehpprasum) - love, protection, divination, hex breaking. Reduces blood pressure, vitamin A K B-complex, copper, zinc, calcium, aids digestion (Poisonous to dogs)

Chickory (blue dandelion, succory) - grounding, health, protection, vitality. Therapeutic, aids digestion

Comfrey (Symphytum, ass’s ear, soapwort) - money, safe travel, stability, endurence, protection. (poisonous and toxic - liver and kidney failure, cancer, can be absorbed through the skin, don’t give to children)

Calamus (dragons blood, sweet edge, sweet flag) luck, healing, money, protection. (external use only, poisonous in large amounts - hallucinations, vomiting, nausea)

Caraway (meridian fennel, Persian cumin) - luck, blessings, courage, love, protection, lust, health.

Cardamon - clarity, concentration, confidence, courage, lust, love. Relieves pain, uplifts mood, improves digestion, mental clarity, and memory

Calamintha - healing, optimism, High in methanal, treats contusions and bruising, depression, and grief

Cilantro - money, healing, love. Folates, vitamin c, a k, b6, antiseptic, antispasmodic

Cinnamon (winter wood) - protection, money, lust, wealth, prosperity, healing, strength. relieves pain, uplifts mood, relieves fatigue, natural disinfectant, improves digestion and appetite, Bark: soothes sore throat and cough, antiinflammatory, (avoid taking with antibiotic meds)

Clove - protection, exorcism, love, money, purity, business, relieves digestion, pain, uplifts mood, improves clarity, helps bronchitis (don’t take with slow blood clotting meds, liver changing meds, anticoagulants)

Coriander - health, healing. relives pain, fatigue, improves digestion and mental clarity, reduces nausea

Deer Tongue (Dichanthelium Cladestinum) - luck, love, psychics, legal matters

dutchman's breeches - love

Devils bit (succisa pratensis) - Exorcisms, love, protection, lust. Diaphoretic, demulcent, febrifuge, properties, aids cough and fever

Dill - protection, fortune, lust, love money. Vitamine c, a, aids insomnia, hiccups, diarrhea, mental problems, boosts immunity, anti-inflammatory, aids arthritis, increases apatite

Dittany of crete - spirit work, divination,, astral projection

Dock - healing, fertility, money, laxative, astringent (poisonous to chickens, horses, and cattle)

Dodder (Cuscuta) - love, divination, knot magic

Elecampane (inula helenium, horse heal, elf dock) - love, protection, divination, clairvoyance, kills worms in the stomach (don’t take in large amounts, if pregnant/breastfeeding, diabetic, or allergic to ragweed.)

Epazote (Mexican tea, dysphonia, ambrioids, wormwood, Jesuits tea, payau mastruz, herba Sancta maria) -health, protection, aids digestion and flatulence

Feverfew - protection, prevents migraines and headaches, arthritis, fever, muscle pain/tension, lowers blood pressure, increases apatite (don’t take if pregnant/breastfeeding)

Frankincense - protection, courage, luck, spirit work, exorcisms. Anti-inflammatory, antiseptic, improves digestion, expectorant, sedative

Galangal - protection, lust, health, money, anti-microbial, anti-inflammatory, anti-fungal, pyroxene, vitamin c, iron, potassium, heart-healthy, aids cough and cold and sore throat ( don’t take if pregnant/breastfeeding)

Gotu kola (centella asiatica, astatic, pennywort, herb of longevity, Brahmi, tiger herb) - stamina, health, calming, focus

Ginger - bitterness, love, money, success, power, treats cramps, nausea, flu treatment, diarrhea, and fever (avoid with slow clotting meds)

Goldenseal (eye root, orange root, yellow puccoon) - healing, money, divination, anti-viral, anti-biotic, aids digestion, eases cold and fever, minor cuts/bruises, congestion (don’t take with liver meds, are pregnant/breastfeeding, or have high blood pressure)

Horehound (bull blood, the seed of Horus, marrubium Vulgare) - protection, mental powers, exorcisms, antiseptic, expectorant, vermifuge, aids nausea and vomiting

Horsetail (equisetum) - Fertility, charming

Hounds tongue (beggars lice, dog tongue, rat and mice, Cynoglossum officinale) - curses, surprises, healing

Hyssopus officinalis - purification, protection, divination, astral projection, soothes cold and fever, sore throats, asthma, rheumatism, indigestion, expectorant

Kava Kava - visions, protection luck (fatigue, deep depression, don’t take pregnant/breastfeeding)

Licorice - love, lust, natural sweetener, aid menstrual cramps, boosts the immune system, relieve pain/stress, prevents heart disease.

Majoram - healing, protection

Meadowsweet (meadwort, queen of the prairies, filipendula ulmaria, bride of the meadow, queen of the meadow) - love, peace, divination, happiness, aids rheumatism, soothes stomach and acid reflux, astringent, antibacterial anti-inflammatory (don’t take with warfarin)

Mint (Mentha Piperita) - strength, arguments, virtue, vision, money, luck, love, exorcism, travel, protection, aids anxiety, colic, flatulence, indigestion, IBS

Mistletoe (devils fuge) - difficulties, fertility, health, protection

Morning glory - affection, happiness, peace

Mullein (Verbascum thapsus, clot, hag taper) - courage, protection, health, love, divination, exorcism, aids cough, earache, sore throat, analgesic, antibacterial, relieves asthma, burns, insect bites, and diahrea.

Mustard - health, fae magic, fertility, protection

Myrrh - protection, wards, banishments, love, death, weddings, luck, money

Myrtle (murtus) - love, death, weddings, luck, money, youth, fertility, peace, meditation, uplifts mood, anti-inflammatory, aids in healing skin

Paprika - heat, fire

Parsley - festivity, protection, death, bad luck, helps with anemia, diuretic, fatigue, (don’t take with slow clotting meds)

Patchouli - invisibility, fertility, lust, money

Peppercorn - protection, banishments, courage, love, relieve nausea, anxiety, indigestion, IBS, colic, diarrhea, cough and cold, anti-inflammatory (avoid if you have acid reflux disease, take cyclosporine, or liver meds)

Ramson (allium ursinum, bear paw, eagle) - festivals, creativity, health, antibiotic, antiseptic, reduces blood pressure, heart attacks, and stroke

Rosemary -beauty, feminity, empowerment, protection, love, lust, willpower, memory, nightmares, cloud vision, curses, improves focus, and memory, blood pressure, circulation, antiseptic, antidepressant, eases indigestion

Saffron - warnings, mirth, love, healing, wind magic, psychics, strength

sage - cleansing, virtue, immortality, longevity, wisdom, wishes. Aids cold and fever, hot flashes, cramps, rashes, and sore throat

sagebrush - purification, exorcisms

sandlewood- purification, love, protection, wishes, spirituality

sea salt - cleansing, purification, consecration, grounding, protection, sea magic, mermaids

Solomon’s seal (Polygonatum) - protection, exorcism

spearmint - healing, love, energizer, uplifts mood, relieves pain and fatigue, breaks up congestion, improves appetite, soothes itchy skin, anti-inflammatory (wear gloves when dealing with raw spearmint)

sugarcane - love, lust

Tansy - health, longevity

Tarragon - healing, protection, consecration, iron-rich, aids circulation, vitamin c, a, calcium

Tea - fortune, courage, strength

tea tree - relieves pain, natural disinfectant, vapors help with breathing

Thyme - courage, healing, sleep, loyalty, strength, courage, purification, anti-bacterial, antiseptic, eases cough and cold, expectorant, relaxes muscles, uplifts mood, anti-inflammatory, improves digestion and appetite, natural disinfectant (don’t take with slow clotting meds)

Tormentil (potentilla erecta) - protection, love

Tumeric - purification, strength, anti-inflammatory, reduces cholesterol (don’t take with slow clotting meds)

Urva Ursa (ursi) - psychic increase, earth, grounding

vervain (enchanters plant, verbena, yerba de Santa ana, cross plant, Juno’s tears, pidgeon grass/weed, herb of grace) - enchantment, bindings, blessings, peace, fortune, youth, fear, nightmares, curses, wisdom, sleep, banishments, love eases tension and stress (Poisonous in large amounts)

Witch hazel (hamamelis) - protection, clarity, aids acne, cuts and bruises, insect bites, minor burns/sunburns, colitic, antiseptic

Wood aven (geum urbanum) - earth, grounding, meditation, astral projection

#correspondences #herb correspondences #spice correspondences #my post #herbs #spices #witchcraft #traditional witchcraft #garden witch #green witch #kitchen witch #solitary witch

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goldeneyedgirl · 4 years

Text

charity fic: all in the stars

So, some of you might be aware of the Move to Higher Group fan-zine that was being put together. It is an awesome project and I cannot wait to see the final product.

I’ve decided to release my fic independently, with the same goal of raising money for the Quileute Tribe’s Move to Higher Ground Project. There is an amazing post right here by lemonadebottlecap that covers the history of the tribe and the misconceptions that Twilight spread - I’ve also reblogged that right below here.

So I will cheerfully suggest and implore you to donate to the Move to Higher Ground Project - even just $1 would be amazing.

I’m not asking for anything for the fic, but in the spirit of the zine and the fandom renaissance, please consider it. <3

Onwards to the fic

all in the stars.

Mary-Alice doesn’t speak much. She hasn’t for a long time. Mostly, she rocks and murmurs and stares. Sometimes she cries or shrieks, but that happens less and less since the doctors started her on the shock treatments. She shivers and stares and mutters, and the staff leave her well enough alone. Mostly.

(Matron hopes she dies this winter, she heard her say it to the nurse; she’s a fragile thing, all bird bones and sharp edges from her body eating away at itself. Her lungs rattle and her chest aches and her head always hurts and she knows that, one way or another, death is coming. It won’t take much to send her on her way.)

The nights are bitterly cold, and she shivers as she stares out the tiny barred window at the stars. No one knows what she’s looking for, or looking at; she’s been having treatments so long, and lived in the dim gloom of her cell for so many years, that her eyesight is greatly degraded - if she were free, she would be considered legally and irreversibly blind. But she stares, right at the stars, as if she’s searching for something.

(Her sight in the real world is nearly gone - she sees shapes and the shift of shadows, but everything is quite smeared, like looking through deep, murky water. But her other sight, of things that are to be and things that could be, that is still as sharp as ever, even if it doesn’t always make perfect sense.)

When she eats, she struggles to focus on her tray, to judge space and distance. Some of the orderlies laugh at her fumbling (hands shaking, eyes squinting, tiny body hunched over her singular meal of the day) and she is left to try and feed herself, barely managing to consume half before she has spilt it everywhere, or she gives up out of frustration and exhaustion, out of disgust of the taste of turning milk, of cooling animal fat and rancid vegetables. When she is taken to her treatments, and sessions with the doctors, she tries to guide herself with one thin hand on the wall. Mostly, she’s manhandled - dragged into the rooms with the report she was being ‘difficult’ and the unspoken promise of punishment, or ferried about in an ancient wheelchair.

(She used to count her bruises like the constellations in the sky, blooming black and blue, purple and green. Her very own Aurora Borealis. Back then, they were just needle sticks. Then they stretched out, wrapping painfully around her torso, her thighs. They swelled with blood and kept her from sleep. They made her easy to manipulate, fingers roughly pressing down on a raw spot to make her bend to their will. Now the bruises don’t fade, they linger - overlapping and constant, and it’s too hard to see them to bother counting them. She cannot tell the difference between a shadow and a bruise now, anyhow - her cell is dark, her eyes are dying, and there is always pain, no matter where she touches on her skin.)

Elias arrived (arrives? Sometimes the passage of time is hard to track) sometime ago. He was… he simply was, in the beginning. Another set of hands moving her around, sticking her with the needles, frowning and judging and damning her. And then one day, for no reason at all, he brought her an extra blanket and wrapped her up tight against the cold. He brought her cold tea, over-steeped and bitter on her tongue, but insisted she drink it. He looked at her with eyes that had seen too much, had tried and failed and run right through every ounce of hope and benevolence he could manage, so he had given up. Until now (then?).

(She knows she would have died that night, from the cold of the night and the shock of the ice bath, for want of a blanket and something to drink. Except he swept in, with his red eyes and the clean blanket and bad tea and held her hand in his, his gloves warming her skin. He stayed, she lived, and the future went spinning off into a kaleidoscope of possibility, lighting up her mind. She’s already lost her words by then, but she wants to tell him, however this all falls together, she forgives him and thanks him for his kindness. That she knows what he is, what he has done, and it is not her place to pass judgement on anyone, man or immortal.

That any kind of light in the dark is a beautiful thing, no matter how long it is lit.)

—

To say she dies when Elias bites her, when he presses venom into her wrists and throat and prays to a god he hasn’t believed in for many years, is a fallacy. It is a polite lie, a bedtime story for children. It is fiction designed to absolve the villains of the piece - doctors in clean, white coats; nurses with shark-smiles and vindictive natures.

(She has died a little every single day since her parents sent her to the asylum. That is true, if quite dramatic.)

What killed her, truly? It might have been the distracted nurse, overzealous in her dosage; it could have been the blow to the head when she fell against the desk in the doctor’s room, shoved by an irritated orderly in charge of shepherding her around. It might have been the addition of an imprecise voltage or two from a dismissive doctor. It might have been all those things bleeding together. But by the time Elias bites her, changes her, there is very little of Mary-Alice Brandon left - just a failing body struggling so hard to make it to the next hour, minute, second. Her heart thumps slowly, her lungs rattle with oxygen, her eyes glassy and unseeing. She does not know what is coming for her, and how Elias intends to protect her.

(If she could speak, she would talk of the change like being in the middle of space, of watching the rush of stars and galaxies, of colours and combustion and the swoop of the unknown, great and terrible. It was like being a tiny spot of dust in an expansive, ornate concert hall - terribly insignificant and in the presence of true greatness. But she is far enough gone that she doesn’t even know of the Hunter that stalks her, doesn’t know that when she wakes, she will be a brand new girl, an entirely new person who will be able to speak and think and run and see.)

It happens exactly how it is supposed to. Elias is old enough to know the tricks, to leave a false trail miles long that sacrifices more than one innocent, maybe a mad little inmate or two, as he carries Mary-Alice to sanctuary. She is an easy burden, still and silent, and Elias continues his futile pleas to god that this will work, and she will be born anew, and he won’t have immortalised her misery and suffering. In his long life, he has never seen an impaired vampire, one that has carried their damage and their disease over into eternity, and he hopes Mary-Alice will not be the first.

(Her galaxies surround her, in black and navy blue, violet and emerald. Rich gold, too bright to look directly at, streaks across the endless space. The stars wink at her, and some of them blink out - futures that are not hers to have, she decides. The light of the remaining stars is warm on her face and limbs, fills her chest to bursting, and she wants to cradle them in her arms, hold them tight forever.)

—

They nearly make it, you know. One day, two days, the third day dawns with no sign of the Hunter; not a scent on the breeze or the still of the woods. Just little Mary-Alice’s thin little breaths and faltering heartbeat, curled into a ball of blankets in the grass. Elias’ hand strokes her hair, and he remembers another sickly girl, brittle and dying. Long gone, in a forgotten grave in a corner of the woods an ocean away. It makes him feel ashamed, like he only helped Mary-Alice to fit her into the place left by another; that he is not so good to help her simply because of her suffering. But in truth, why else pick her, of all of the poor souls in that ward?

(Her old self is almost gone, as the stars slowly decline and the colours begin to fade. She cannot excuse his motivations when she does not know him or remember him. Or remind him why he was precious and good and kind to her. In her memory, his star has blinked out and gone, another lamp extinguished.)

She whimpers then, and it is their undoing - he is startled by her sudden noise; hope and concern knotting in his chest as he leans over her. It is also enough for a lurking Hunter, downwind to surprise his target. He is angry, a rippling red rage, at being tricked and turned around - at his precious quarry being snatched from under his nose and the stench of Elias’ venom taking hold of her blood. The Hunter is no loser; he is his own champion, one that takes sick delight in broken, bloodless girls whose throats are raw from screaming, and whose bones never fit back together right. One that has lost the battle but will win the war, and salt the earth just to spite Elias.

(In her last seconds, Mary-Alice sees. She sees Elias and the Hunter locked in battle; she sees Elias’ destruction and then she sees the Hunter come for her, still lost to the change. She sees what he does to her, how he mutilates and breaks her to punish her saviour, who is already ash in the air. And as quickly as the images press around her, they are gone, like confetti in the air.)

Elias is angry, angrier than he has been in a long time as the Hunter is upon them, and he drags the Hunter away from his charge’s prone body.

(Just a little longer. A little more time…)

—

She has a choice to make now; one she won’t remember. There are only a handful of her stars left, and she needs to pick one.

(She sees herself rise, red-eyed and confused but determined. It’s an easy trail to follow, watching the Hunter feed broken limbs into his fire with a smirk on his face and delicious plans for the girl in the glade. He’s taken the other man’s coat, and that strikes rage into her heart. He doesn’t have time to turn around before she has his head off and into the fire. She crouches in front of the fire, and watches carefully as it burns lower. It’s only when she’s left with ash and smoke that she rises, feeling heavier and sadder than she thinks she should be able to feel and slips off back into the forest, to a future yet to be decided.)

No, she doesn’t want to be sad anymore. She was sad before, she’s tired of sad.

(She runs south. She runs through the forest, faster and faster, to escape the one that is coming for her. When she stops running, she hides. She’s frightened, fearful, like a hunted rabbit. Her heart is quiet, but it still feels like it wants to burst from her chest in fear and she is completely and utterly lost, in all the ways that someone can be and she doesn’t know what to do.)

She doesn’t want to be afraid either.

(Golden eyes. A warm smile, one that makes her feel like her chest is full of starlight again. A scar on his neck that her fingers worry over, as if she can protect him from the pain. A kiss on her nose, her cheek, the corner of her mouth before his lips graze her ear.

“I love you, Alice. Irreversibly and forever,” he murmurs and, and…)

That one. That’s her. She’s Alice; she gets to be Alice, chooses to be Alice - Alice who is happy and loved and safe and precious. Alice, who loves him more than anything in existence. She could burst with how much she loves him. She could have a million choices, a million stars, and that will always be the one she chooses and holds tight.

(“Forever.”)

—

And she opens her eyes, clear and bright and ruby-red. She spies the moss and the ferns, her discarded blankets, the bugs in the dirt. She sees feeble light of dusk pushing through the trees. She smells water and dirt and trees and … smoke.

(“Alice.”)

Getting to her feet, her throat burning and her mind too full of everything that is new and unknown around her, and the ominous promise of the smoke hovering in the air, she holds the image of the man with the golden eyes in her mind and she begins to run.

(“I love you.”)

She runs North with nothing but hope and a name, spoken by the one who loves - or will love (she forgets that time moves differently when you can’t see what’s coming) - her best. She runs away from disaster, from pain and fear and sadness, and everything she came from, a brand new girl on her way to a brand new life.

(“Irreversibly and forever.”)

—

#twilight fic #alice cullen #jalice #my fic #my fic: all in the stars #mary alice brandon #twilight renaissance #mthg #mthg zine #twilight zine #twilight fans #charity #charity fic

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blackknotbegone · 2 years

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Black Knot Be Gone is the one-stop solution for all kinds of bacterial diseases found in plants. Bacterial canker usually occurs in plants due to two closely related bacteria that infect the stems and leaves of plums, cherries, and related Prunus species. Flower, leaves, and stem infection can be seen during the mid-spring. Use the black knot fungus spray to get a unique bacterial canker treatment. For more info please contact 607-343-7781.

Visit: https://www.blackknotbegone.com/

#bacterial cankers #black knot fungus #black knot be gone #black knot disease treatment #fruit tree fungus treatment

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starqueen87 · 4 years

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October 4, 1951: Henrietta Lacks died from cervical cancer at Johns Hopkins Hospital.

Henrietta Lacks was an African-American woman who was the unwitting source of cells (from her cancerous tumor) which were cultured by George Otto Gey to create the 1st known human immortal cell line for medical research.

This is now known as the HeLa cell line.

In 1955 HeLa cells were the 1st human cells successfully cloned.

HBO announced in 2010 that Oprah Winfrey and Alan Ball were developing a film project based on Skloot's book, and in 2016 filming commenced, with Winfrey in the leading role of Deborah Lacks, Henrietta's daughter.

The film The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks was released in 2017.

DIAGNOSIS:

On January 29, 1951, Henrietta went to Johns Hopkins Hospital because she felt a knot inside her. It all started when she asked her cousins to feel her belly, asking if they felt the lump that she did. Her cousins assumed correctly that she was pregnant. But, after giving birth to her fifth child, Joseph, Henrietta started bleeding abnormally and profusely. Her local doctor tested her for syphilis, which came back negative, and referred her to Johns Hopkins.

Johns Hopkins was their only choice for a hospital, since it was the only one in proximity to them that treated black patients. Howard Jones, her new doctor, examined Henrietta and the lump in her cervix. It was like nothing he had ever seen before. He cut off a small part of the tumor and sent it to the pathology lab. Soon after, Jones discovered she had a malignant epidermoid carcinoma of the cervix Stage 1 (cervical cancer).

Lacks was treated with radium tube inserts, which were sewn in place. After several days in place, the tubes were removed and she was released from Johns Hopkins with instructions to return for X-ray treatments as a follow-up. During her radiation treatments for the tumor, two samples of Henrietta's cervix were removed— a healthy part and a cancerous part— without her permission. The cells from her cervix were given to Dr. George Otto Gey. These cells would eventually become the HeLa immortal cell line, a commonly used cell line in biomedical research.

Lacks returned for the X-ray treatments. However, her condition worsened and the Hopkins doctors treated her with antibiotics, thinking that her problem might be complicated by an underlying venereal disease (she had neurosyphilis and presented with acute gonorrhea at one point as well).

DEATH:

In significant pain and without improvement, Lacks returned to Hopkins on August 8th for a treatment session but asked to be admitted. She remained at the hospital until her death.

Though she received treatment and blood transfusions, she died of uremic poisoning on October 4, 1951, at 12:30 A.M. at the age of 31. A subsequent partial autopsy showed that the cancer had metastasized throughout her body.

BURIAL:

Henrietta Lacks was buried without a tombstone in a family cemetery in Lackstown, a part of Clover in Halifax County, Virginia. Her exact burial location is not known, although the family believes it is within feet of her mother's gravesite. Lackstown is the name of the land that has been held by the (black) Lacks family since they received it from the (white) Lacks family, who had owned the ancestors of the black Lackses when slavery was legal. Many members of the black Lacks family were also descended from the white Lacks family. A row of boxwoods separates the graves of whites from those of the blacks buried in the family cemetery. For decades, Henrietta Lacks' mother has had the only tombstone of the five graves in the family cemetery in Lackstown.

In 2010, however, Dr. Roland Pattillo of the Morehouse School of Medicine donated a headstone for Lacks after reading The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks. The headstone, which is shaped like a book, her grandchildren wrote her epitaph:

"Henrietta Lacks August 01, 1920 – October 04, 1951

In loving memory of a phenomenal woman, wife and mother who touched the lives of many. Here lies Henrietta Lacks (HeLa). Her immortal cells will continue to help mankind forever. Eternal Love and Admiration, From Your Family"

RECOGNITION & LEGACY:

●In 1996, Morehouse School of Medicine in Atlanta, the state of Georgia and the mayor of Atlanta recognized the late Henrietta Lacks' family for her posthumous contributions to medicine and health research.

●Her life was commemorated annually by Turners Station residents for a few years after Morehouse's commemoration.

●A congressional resolution in her honor was presented by Robert Ehrlich following soon after the first commemoration of her, her family, and her contributions to science in Turners Station.

●Events in the Turners Station's community have also commemorated the contributions of others including Mary Kubicek, the laboratory assistant who discovered that HeLa cells lived outside the body, as well as Dr. Gey and his nurse wife, Margaret Gey, who together after over 20 years of attempts were eventually able to grow human cells outside of the body.

●In 2011, Morgan State University granted her a posthumous honorary degree.

●On September 14, 2011, the Board of Directors of Washington ESD 114 Evergreen School District chose to name a new health and bioscience high school in her honor. The new school, scheduled to open in the fall of 2013, will be named Henrietta Lacks Health and Bioscience High School. "It is such an honor to name our new school after a person who so impacted the world of medicine and science," said school board member Victoria Bradford, who also served on the naming committee. "It is also a privilege to be the first organization to publicly memorialize Henrietta Lacks by naming this school building after her."

●October 11, in Atlanta, Georgia, is Henrietta Lacks' Day

IN THE MEDIA:

■In 1998, a one-hour BBC documentary on Lacks and HeLa directed by Adam Curtis, won the Best Science and Nature Documentary at the San Francisco International Film Festival. Immediately following the film's airing in 1997, an article on HeLa cells, Lacks, and her family was published by reporter Jacques Kelly in The Baltimore Sun.

■In the 1990s, the Dundalk Eagle published the first article on her in a newspaper in Baltimore City and Baltimore County, and it continues to announce upcoming local commemorative activities.

■The Lacks family was also honored at the Smithsonian Institution.

■In 2001, it was announced that the National Foundation for Cancer Research would be honoring "the late Henrietta Lacks for the contributions made to cancer research and modern medicine" on September 14. Because of the events of September 11, 2001, the event was canceled.

■In 2000 Mal Webb released a CD with a song about Lacks called Helen Lane.

■In her 2010 book, The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, Rebecca Skloot documents the histories of both the HeLa cell line and the Lacks family. Henrietta's husband, David Lacks, was told little following her death. Suspicions fueled by racial issues prevalent in the South (see Night Doctors) were compounded by issues of class and education. For their part, members of the Lacks family were kept in the dark about the existence of the tissue line. When its existence was revealed in two articles written in March 1976 by Michael Rogers, one in the Detroit Free Press and one in Rolling Stone, family members were confused about how Henrietta's cells could have been taken without consent and how they could still be alive 25 years after her death.

■In May 2010, The Virginian-Pilot published two articles on Lacks, HeLa, and her family.

■On May 17, 2010, NBC ran a fictionalized version of Lacks' story on Law & Order, titled "Immortal". An article in Slate called the episode "shockingly close to the true story."

■On May 31, 2011 Jello Biafra and the Guantanamo School of Medicine released the CD Enhanced Methods of Questioning with a song about Henrietta Lacks and the HeLa immortal cell line called "The Cells That Will Not Die".

■In May of 2012, self-proclaimed "Middle Eastern-psych-snap-gospel" band Yeasayer officially released "Henrietta", the first single from their third album "Fragrant World". Lead singer Chris Keating reports that Henrietta Lacks' legacy inspired the creation of this song.

LAW & ETHICS:

◆Neither Lacks nor her family gave her physician permission to harvest the cells. At that time, permission was neither required nor customarily sought. The cells were later commercialized.

◆In the 1980s, family medical records were published without family consent.

◆In March 2013, German researchers published the DNA code, or genome, of a strain of HeLa cells without permission from the Lacks family. This issue and Mrs. Lacks' situation was brought up in the Supreme Court of California case of Moore v. Regents of the University of California. On July 9, 1990, the court ruled that a person's discarded tissue and cells are not their property and can be commercialized.

◆In August 2013, an agreement by the family and the National Institutes of Health was announced that gave the family some control over access to the cells' DNA code and a promise of acknowledgement in scientific papers. In addition, two family members will join a six-member committee which will regulate access to the code.

#HenriettaLacks #HeLa #AfricanAmerican #woman #unwilling #human #cells #mustread #blackhistory #knowledgeispower

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gum-recessiongrowback-blog · 4 years

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Gum Recession Grow Back

Despite the fact that dental care was certainly not a concentrated branch of Ayurveda, it is actually consisted of in its own Shalakya Tantra (body of surgical operation). Problems including impairments of the oral cavity, oral plaque buildups and diseases were actually taken care of in ancient India. Standard medicine may manage various contagious as well as chronic problems. For more about Grow Back Receding Gums

Research has presented that all sort of eating sticks illustrated in old Ayurveda content possess therapeutic as well as anti-cariogenic buildings. Its oil taking (Kaval, Gandush) practice is actually asserted to cure about 30 systemic ailments.

Gum Regrowth Treatment

Amla (Emblic myrobalan), is actually a basic rebuilder of oral health. Bilberry fruit (Vaccinium myrtillus) and hawthorn berry (Crateagus oxycanthus) support bovine collagen, reinforcing the gum tissue. Liquorice root (Glycyrrhiza glabral) markets anti-cavity action, minimizes cavity enducing plaque, and has an antibacterial impact. Use risk-free, quality items as well as techniques need to be actually made sure based upon readily available proof if standard medicine is to become acknowledged as part of main health care. Scientific verifications of the Ayurveda dental health strategies can justify their consolidation right into modern dental care. Promotion of these methods using ideal media would certainly benefit the basic populace by offering additional assurance in the old techniques, thus protecting against dental caries and also loss. Keyword phrases: Ayurveda, kaval, oral health, oil taking, traditional medication Go to: INTRO

Ayurveda is actually an all natural system of medication which grew in India some 3000-5000 years ago, a body of standard medicine belonging to the Indian subcontinent, now performed in various other component of the world as a form of corresponding medicine. [1] The earliest literary works on Indian medical technique appeared throughout the Vedic duration in India. The Susruta Samhita as well as the Charaka Samhita are its earliest authoritative messages. [2] Over the centuries, Ayurvedic practitioners built great deals of medical preparations and surgical procedures for the treatment of several health problems as well as diseases. [3] Although dentistry was actually not a specialized branch of Ayurveda, it was actually featured in its own device of surgery. In ancient India, concerns like impairments of the mouth, oral plaque buildups and also diseases might be handled and also also treated.

Gum Regrowth Treatment At Home

Conventional medication is actually the sum total of knowledge, capabilities and strategies based on the ideas, opinions as well as knowledge indigenous to various cultures that are actually used to preserve health, and also to prevent, identify, boost or deal with physical and mental illnesses. Standard medication that has been actually embraced by other populaces (outside its own indigenous culture) is commonly labelled complementary or even holistic medicine. Natural medicines consist of herbs, organic materials, plant based prep work, and finished herbal products which contain portion of plants or even various other plant products as energetic components.

In some Asian and African nations, 80% of the population depends upon typical medication for main medical. In a lot of established nations, 70% to 80% of the populace has actually made use of some type of substitute or corresponding medicine. Organic treatments are actually the most preferred form of standard medicine, and also are extremely beneficial in the global market place. Yearly incomes in Western Europe got to US$ 5 billion in 2003-2004. In China sales of items headed to US$ 14 billion in 2005. Organic medicine profits in Brazil was US$ 160 thousand in 2007. [4] Ayurveda and also oral health

In Ayurveda, dental health (danta swasthya in Sanskrit) is upheld be actually really individual, varying with each person's nature (prakriti), and also weather modifications resulting from sunlight, lunar and planetary effects (kala-parinama). The body system constitution is actually classified based upon the preponderance of several of the 3 doshas, vata, pitta as well as kapha. The domination dosha in both the personal and also attribute finds out medical in Ayurveda, featuring dental health.

Natural Gum Regrowth

[5] Most likely to: EATING STICKS

Ayurveda suggests chewing embed the morning along with after every meal to stop ailments. Ayurveda insists on making use of herbal combs, around 9 inches long as well as the density of one's little finger. These natural herb sticks ought to be either 'kashaya' (astringent), 'katu (acrid), or 'tikta' (harsh) in flavor. The approach of making use of is to crush one point, chew it, and consume it little by little. [6] Toothbrushing is actually a task executed with a 'tooth brush' which is an exclusive little brush designed for make use of on teeth. Nibbling a therapeutic stick equivalent advised by a Vaidya, or other typical practitioner, might validly be actually upheld be equivalent to the western-pioneered activity of 'brushing the teeth ', however it is actually not adequately similar to become given the exact same name, especially given that sticks that are munched are made use of totally in different ways coming from combs.

It is actually advised that chewing sticks be acquired from new controls of details plants. The neem (margosa or even the Azadiraxhta indica) is a famous organic chewing stick. The stems need to be actually well-balanced, soft, without leaves or knots and also drawn from a healthy tree. Nibbling on these stems is strongly believed to result in attrition and levelling of attacking areas, help with salivary secretion and, possibly, assistance in oral plaque buildup control, while some stems have an anti-bacterial action. With reference to the individual's constitution and also dominant dosha, it is actually specified that folks with the vata dosha dominance might establish atrophic and also receding gums, as well as are encouraged to utilize chewing stick to bitter-sweet or even astringent preferences, including liquorice (Glycyrrhiza glabra) and black catechu or even the cutch plant (Acacia Catechu Linn.), specifically.

Natural Gum Regrowth Treatment

[7] Pitta dosha leading individuals are highly recommended to use chewing stick to an unsweetened flavor like the branches coming from the margosa plant (Azadirachta indica or even natures neem) as well as the arjuna plant (Terminalia arjuna). Those with the kapha dosha prevalent are probably to have light as well as hypertrophic gums and are actually asked to utilize chewing sticks with a poignant taste, presenting the fever nut (Caesalipinia bonduc) and the typical milkweed vegetation (Calotropis procera). Present-day research has actually revealed that all the chewing sticks defined in historical Ayurveda content (circa 200 BC) possess therapeutic and also anti-cariogenic properties. [8] Saimbi et al (1994) assessed the anti plaque effectiveness of Neem remove, Ayurvedic tooth grains and also commercial tooth pastes. Neem extract prevailed as well as commercial tooth pastes were actually the last. [9] In one more research study Venugopal et al (1998) assessed a total amount of 2000 children (1-14 year age group) in Mumbai for cavities incidence. Those children who were actually utilizing natures neem datun were located to be less impacted along with cavities. [10] In southern India, mango fallen leave is actually largely used for cleaning teeth. A clean mango leaf is actually washed and the midrib is cleared away. Fallen leave is actually then folded up lengthwise with shiny surfaces encountering each other. It is rolled into a round pack. One point of the pack is bitten off 2-3mm to develop a raw surface area which is rubbed on the teeth - pack is actually held in between the thumb as well as the forefinger. In the end, the midrib, which was first removed, is actually made use of as a tongue cleaner. Sumant et alia (1992) assessed the efficiency of mango fallen leave as an oral health help and also acquired interesting results. [11] Much higher soft down payment ratings were stated in team that made use of mango leaf. Cavities knowledge in this group utilizing mango leaf was similar to the group that utilized tooth comb. Mangiferin a substance found in mango leaves had considerable antibacterial property against particular strains of Pneumococci, Streptococci, Staphylococci, as well as Lactobacillus acidophilus.

Gum Regrowth At Home

The miswak (miswaak, siwak, sewak) is actually a teeth washing branch created from a branch of the Salvadora persica tree, additionally called the arak plant or even the peelu plant and also functions in Islamic health jurisprudence. The miswak is predominant in Muslim locations yet its make use of precedes the inception of Islam. Almas and also Atassi (2002) carried out research to analyze the effect of miswak and also tooth brush filaments end-surface structure on enamel. Twenty-one specimens were actually prepared; they were actually divided right into Aquafresh toothbrush team, Miswak group as well as command team. End results revealed that filaments end-surface texture play major duty in abrasive energetic activity as well as enamel tooth area loss. Miswak revealed smaller result on enamel as compared to Aquafresh toothbrush. [12] Almas and Zeid (2004) in a research to determine antimicrobial activity of miswak chewing embed vivo, particularly on streptococcus mutans and also lactobacilli confirmed that miswak had a prompt antimicrobial result reviewed to toothbrush. Streptococcus mutans were more at risk to miswak than lactobacilli. [Thirteen]

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hanniiesuckle17 · 5 years

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In The Sheets

A/n: not requested but I was watching House Md and thought I’d give this a try. Thinking of making it a series???

Member: Lee Jihoon (Woozi) ft. Seungcheol (S.Coups)

WARNINGS: Brief smut, mention of sex, swearing, mention of gore

Summary: Residency at one of the most prestigious teaching hospitals in Seoul doesn’t do much for one’s social life. Especially one’s sex life. Doctors resort to shagging in dark closets and on call rooms just to keep from killing each other. Y/n has a constant on going deal with one of the most famous attendings in the hospital. When feelings, jealousy, and a certain patient start to get involved, things fall apart.

Genre: smut? Not really, fluff, comedy?, intense, doctor!au, doctor!idol x doctor!reader, friends with benefits

The sounds of heavy breaths and strangled moans echoed in the small dark room. My body satisfied and tired, rolled off of the handsome doctor under me. Jihoon was quite the sight to see, but he always was after a round between the sheets.

There was no harm in what we were doing, because there was no emotion. Or so I thought. Lately these rendezvous with the dark, handsome, and calculating doctor had a knot growing in my stomach. The kind where when I saw him in the hall I couldn’t help but feel a little hurt when he didn’t at least smile at me.

I pushed the thought aside and decided to think about his chest rising and falling heavily beside me. “Top three.” He said with a tiny smile looking over at me. His dark hair fell in his eyes. “Top three times we’ve done it?” He shook his head and took a gasp of air before pushing himself up on his elbows. “Top three ever.” He leaned down and started attacking my collar bone with his swollen lips. Instinctively my fingers tangled in his messy black hair.

“Jihoon-” His slim form hovered over me and kissed every inch of skin he could find. Our attention was diverted at the sound of the door knob turning. Pulling the covers quickly over the both of us he hid me beneath the blanket and I pressed against his stomach, holding my breath.

“Dr. Lee?” I heard Jihoon shift and he did his best to make his voice sound drowsy. “Yes. What is it, Kim?” I tried to stifle a laugh as his cold and pissy personality started to come back and attack the poor intern or resident who ‘woke him up’. “Chief wants to see you in her office.” Jihoon muttered a cuss word under his breath before agreeing and shooing the doctor out of the room.

When the door fully closed, I pulled the covers away and got out of the bunk bed. I could feel Jihoon’s eyes on me as I grabbed my underwear and slipped them on. “Duty calls anyway, huh?” I was grateful I had kept my bra on and pulled on my pants before turning to Jihoon.

My eyes landed on the spectacles sitting on the desk and handed them to the man half sitting up in bed. Not only was Jihoon attractive, but he was incredibly smart. Definitely the best doctor in the hospital and leading Diagnostician in the city. It was a big turn on.

I checked my pager and saw a message. “Uh- I’ll be leaving first. I’ve got a surgery in an hour. I need to go prep.” I tossed on my shirt and threw on my doctor’s coat. “How come you’re the first to leave lately?” Turning I saw him out of bed and pulling up the pants of his scrubs. “I told you. I have a surgery.” If I spent much more time with him I’d be in more trouble than I already was in more ways than one.

Suddenly I was pressed against the wall, his bare chest pressed flush against mine. “You starting to get feelings? You know that’s against the rules.” Jihoon’s breath fanned across my cheek with a smirk. He loved the fact that I was shorter than him. I lied my ass off and hoped he didn’t notice. “Feelings for you? The calculating, emotionless, sociopath, genius doctor? Never.” He scoffed and looked me in the eye.

“I have emotions.”

“Yes, happy, mad, and horny. I’m familiar with all three of them.”

I gently pushed him off of me and fixed my hair in the mirror. “Are you on call tomorrow night?” He scratched the bridge of his nose and watched me through the reflective surface. I nodded and pulled my hair back with an old and stretched out rubber band. Jihoon’s eyes scanned my wrists and neck as my fingers tied back my messy hair.

“Bye.” With a quick smile I left the room and tried to calm my fast beating heart.

The sky was still dark out as I walked back to the hospital. Sleeping for three hours in my own bed was nice. My feet shuffled into the doctor’s locker room carrying my chai tea latte. Thank god for caffiene. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. If I didn’t know myself I would have though I was a broke college student in a crop top and sweatpants rather than a doctor. As I placed my bag in my locker the door opened.

Jihoon walked in, his black hair disheveled and covered by the blue hoodie he wore. His round glasses were perched on the end of his nose as he looked up at me. I seemed to have forgotten the fact that the attendings’ locker room was under renovation. “Morning,” He said with a smile. His eyes quickly scanned the empty room.

Sending a small smile his way I turned back to what I was doing. More specifically trying to ignore how attractive he looked in sweats and a t-shirt. The touch of his slender fingers on my waist surprised me. “What? No, ‘Good morning, Doctor!’” The comment itself seemed harmless and normal coming from him. However the way he said it to me seemed more playful than his usual sarcasm.

I had to get these thoughts out of my head. “You giving me the silent treatment?” His grip became tighter pulling me so I was attached to his hip as his other hand moved in the locker next to me. I simply smirked and kept his stare.

“You never told me how hot you looked in sweats.” His fingers that drove my pulse through the roof found a patch of bare skin on my side. Jihoon’s eyes searched for any type of reaction. “Never seen you in anything, but scrubs.” His eyes crinkled with a smile. “Well, that’s not true.” He winked at me, inching the two of us closer.

“Fuuuuuucccckkk.” The door slammed open and I pushed Jihoon away and ripped my binder from my locker. I couldn’t help but smile at my colleague’s entrance. “Morning, Seungcheol.” The man smiled brightly at me and ran a hand through his shaggy blonde hair as he rounded the corner. “Hey beautif–Oh….Annyeonghaseo Doctor.” He bowed low obviously embarrassed of his previous action.

Seungcheol quickly shuffled over to his locker and he began changing. Slowly residents and attendings started trickling in. Some getting off a shift and some coming on. Changed into scrubs and my coat I walked over to Seungcheol who was looking at the bulletin board. “You know why we are reporting to the Diagnostician office this morning?” I shook my head and followed his line of sight to a new posting with three names and instructions.

Dr. Choi Seungcheol

Dr. Boo Seungkwan

Dr. L/n Y/n

“We all have different expertise. You do neurology, I am more of the surgical doctor, and Dr. Boo is am immunologist. Why do they need all of us?” Seungcheol nodded looking from me to the paper. “Yo Boo!” He called out into the room. When no one responded we both turned and found the brunette doctor passed out against the wall with a chart in one hand and a redbull in the other.

“Boo,” I kicked his shoe with no response. “Boo, we’re out of redbull.”

“You should probably drive.” He shot up the words drowsily falling from his lips. I laughed and helped Seungkwan up and told him we were were needed in Diagnostics. The three of us walked side by side down the hall down to the only diagnostics office. Entering I saw Jihoon with his feet propped up on the desk wearing a maroon button down with black jeans and his doctor’s coat.

“Well, took you three long enough. Welcome to Hell.” The Jihoon I knew was gone. In his place was the sarcastic and condescending Dr. Lee.

The three of us stood staring dumbfounded at the doctor. With an exasperated sigh he pulled a paper off his desk and read from it. “Congratulations….blah blah blah…..fancy words that are a waste of space….” He turned the page over as I looked to Seungcheol and Seungkwan for any type of clue as to what was going on. “Ah! Here we go. Welcome and congratulations. You three ‘doctors’; Dr. Blondie, Dr. Legs for Days, and Dr. Redbull have all been selected to be part of an elite Diagnostics Team for Mercy Seoul Hospital.”

He threw the paper flippantly back onto his rather cluttered desk. Jihoon stared at us expectantly. “Aren’t you supposed to be jumping for joy or some shit? This is a prestigious position. You get an amazing raise of four dollars an hour!” The sarcasm was dripping in his words as he sauntered to the front of his desk and leaned on it.

I wasn’t shocked at his words unlike my colleagues, however the question of why he chose me stood prominently in my mind. “Okay then. Love the enthusiasm.” He grabbed three files off his desk and tossed them to us. “First case.” I leaned against a bookshelf and scanned the file, listening intently as Seungkwan read the file aloud.

“Female, Seo Hyunri, 34 years old. She was admitted via the ER with symptoms of regular pneumonia with an abnormal fever.” My brain started working like putting faces to names, recalling disease after disease.

“Could be a clot in her brain. A clot in the right place could cause a fever.”

“Yes, the neurologist would think that.”

Jihoon looked at the three of us in frustration. At some point he had picked up the rubik’s cube on his desk and had started messing with it. “No. It wouldn’t cause one this high.” Seungkwan said flipping through the file. “Are we going to see the patient or…” Jihoon looked to Seungcheol. “What? No why would we need to?” Embarrassed by the question he shrugged and looked back at the file.

“Come on. Just say the first thing that comes to your mind.” Jihoon walked over to a whiteboard and in definitive messy handwriting wrote the symptoms in red marker. “Normal pneumonia?” Seungkwan asked. “Give her antibiotics or penicillin and she’ll be fine in a couple days.”

“While ER doctors aren’t the smartest, I doubt that they did not try antibiotics.”

“Late onset Tuberculosis.” The words fell out of my lips before I could think. Hesitantly I looked up to find Dr. Lee staring at me, his expression unreadable. “On the right track. What else?”

Scrambling I flipped through the file. “It says she works on a farm outside the city. If she’s not vaccinated, this time of year could make it easier for someone like her to catch it.”

“Still you would treat it with antibiotics.” Dr. Boo interjected. Jihoon nodded and stood up placing a complete rubiks cube on the desk. “Well then. Let’s take a field trip.”

The three of us stood staring at each other while he strode out the door.

“You’re supposed to follow me!” Scrambling the three of us rushed down the hallway to catch up with him. This was the opportunity of a lifetime to be taught and work with Dr. Lee. I wasn’t just going to let it slip away.

We entered a room with a middle aged woman lying on the bed. Jihoon confidently walked up to her and took her arm lifting it up. She was shocked, but stayed silent as he turned to us. “Abscesses. Something the ER quite clearly missed.” It clicked in my brain.

“Melioidosis…”

“Yes, good work L/N.”

“Blondie. Put her on ceftazidime. She should be better in a couple of days.”

With that he exited the room leaving the three of us standing awkwardly in our patients presence. Handing my file to Seungcheol with a coy smile I retorted, “You heard him, Blondie.” He sighed as Boo handed him his file as well. The two of us exited the room and parted ways.

On the way back to the lockers I was pulled into a patient room. The door closed and I looked to see Jihoon with a smirk. “You did good work today. I didn’t expect you to get it first.” I scoffed. That was the only kind of compliment he gave. Back handed.

“Why did you put me on the team? There are many other surgeons you could have chosen.”

“Yeah, but they’re not you.”

“Well I don’t want the reason I got this job to be because I’m screwing my boss behind closed doors.”

“Of course behind closed doors. People would see if they were open.” His arm came to rest on the wall beside my head, making the air very warm. “But that is the reason I was chosen.” He shook his head and looked down. “No. You were chosen because you are one of the smartest doctors in this hospital.” I raised my brow in disbelief, determined not to let him get to me.

“Okay, and you never agree with me. It helps to have a little push back sometimes.” I couldn’t help but let out a tiny laugh. His hand snaked its way up my hip and to the small of my back, drawing me closer. His lips touched the corner of my mouth and then traveled down to my jaw. It was then I noticed the beeping in the room.

“Jihoon, there’s a patient in here!”

“It’s okay. He’s in a coma we won’t bother him.”

He fervently pressed a heated kiss to my lips and I couldn’t help but melt. Every touch was like a lingering light that I could feel on my skin. Thankfully his pager brought me out of the trance.

“Fuck, Mingyu. Really? Now?” He turned it off and cupped my cheek kissing me again. It took all of my will power to push against his chest. “No… you should go. It could be important.” The words came out shaky and breath like. He scoffed and kissed me once more before exiting the room and closing the door.

My legs gave out and I sank to the floor letting out a heavy breath. “Holy shit…” What the hell am I doing?

All thoughts of Jihoon left my head when a 911 came through my pager and I sprinted out the door.

Masterlist

Requests are open my lovelies!!!

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kanwriteseverything · 5 years

Text

Iron Bullet Legacy: Chapter 3

Heartsick

Sitara’s POV

I log my patient care notes about the tea Lenny prepared, Torryn’s audible sighs of pain when he laughs, and the lack of apparent complications in treatment thus far. Using a cloth, I pick up the iron bullets I’d scattered on the counter and place them in his bag beside his weapon. It’s getting late, or becoming early, rather.

I don’t want to tell him why my hand looks robotic.

“Drink that, and rest.” I’m halfway out the door before I even organize my thoughts. “If you need anything, press the button on the wall.”

The outside handle of the ward locks, only answering to my touch and Lenny’s. I lean against the closed door, staring out onto the desolate floor of the practice engulfed in the pre-sunrise haze. My prosthetic nerves throb, deprived of magick. I’m tired.

Human man, what are you, really?

By some miracle, I do fall asleep upon returning to bed. More of a coma than anything else. My magick is all out of whack. I haven’t had to heal wound’s like Torryn’s since the war. Ailments, minor injuries, and the occasional hex, but not so many severe lacerations, let alone on a human. I don’t work on humans nearly as much as I did. Peacetime has been pretty good to the health of all people.

The practice should’ve opened over an hour ago. I pull myself together and hop down the stairs two at a time, only to find Lennox calmly juggling a.m. routines and restocking.

“Mornin,” she hums, identifying my presence without so much as a glance. “I tagged and shelved the tablets you crafted yesterday.”

“Sorry I slept so late. I meant to tag those myself.” I scan her work, straightening a few stray products on the salesfloor. The pricing and arrangements are perfect. She always has this place running flawlessly. How could I forget? There’s no reason for me to rush these days.

My hair has yet to regain its pigment and my hand still aches.

“Oh, and Torryn responded well to the brew, so I gave him solids earlier. Don’t eat the leftovers. It’s a human recipe and you won’t like it.”

Not really hungry anyway. “Did you check the wounds on his torso yet?”

“That’s next on list after exchanging a few of these candles.” The candles. Her life will be easier when she doesn’t have to keep so many lit.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him today.”

“Are you sure you feel up to it?”

“Just focus on the practice, Lenny. You’re doing a great job.”

Torryn is hastily flipping through a grimoire in the back room. He has too much energy for me this early. It’s like he isn’t even injured. I guess some people just bounce back that quick.

I need to meditate.

“Ah, Sitara!” He turns the book towards me. “What do all these symbols mean?”

Good morning to you, too. “You wouldn’t be able to read them even if you were holding it the right way.” I flip the text around and define a few of the scripts on the page. “Fire. Storm water. Counter clockwise.”

“Lennox said it was a spell book, sort of.”

I prepare new gauze as he continues to scour the pages. “Well, we are mages, after all.”

“It’s normal to you,” he squints at the symbols, “but we don’t have many on our side of the veil.”

“It’s harder for humans to use magick.” Their bodies aren’t built for it. Neither is mine, realistically. “I want to check on your wounds and change the dressing.”

He gently lays the open book beside him. “By all means, doc. Work your magic.”

I roll my eyes, but I don’t think he even realized the pun.

In the daylight, I’m able to take a better look at Torryn. His black hair is tightly nestled up in knot, with strays framing his face. He’s much livelier, smiling despite sitting before me in bandages. The old gauze absorbed residual bleeding in the night. His face is much less marred, thanks to the vervian salve, but I’m more concerned about making sure that gash on his stomach closes.

Torryn straightens up when he sees it. “That looks way better than it did at first.”

No wonder the first wrap job was a wreck, then. He was probably only half conscious when he did it. “I circulated a lot of magick through you so your wounds would heal.” I wasn’t sure he’d make it otherwise. The cut was deeper than I’d thought, and managed to destroy a vein that would’ve required surgery. Luckily, I was able to come up with the energy to repair it using the circulation. It’s almost all closed up now.

“Sounds painful.”

It’s magick, not electricity. “Well, you were out cold and couldn’t have felt a thing, so I guess you’ll never know.” I apply the last of the vervian salve around the laceration and secure a linen wrap around his waist, abandoning the gauze since he’s no longer bleeding.

He picks up the grim as soon as I turn away. “Oh, hey, what about this one, what does this one mean?” He points at the bottom corner of a page. “I’ve seen it before, and it’s all throughout this book.”

It’s a rune… my rune, rather. The one I use as my magick signature. Back when I was studying, I’d practice drawing it in all my books so it would look perfect. “Where have you seen it?”

“On the bullets for my gun, and a few documents I’ve come across on assignments.”

He is military then? A freelancer for the military? “There are runes on your bullets?” I can’t believe I hadn’t thought to check. I mean, he’s carrying an F3, for fae’s sake.

He digs one out of his bag at the foot of the bed. “It’s the same one that’s in the book.”

There it is. My rune stamped on the bottom of his bullets, his iron bullets, for his fae hunting gun… both of which I helped create.

I jump to change the subject. “Oh, Lennox said she made you breakfast. Do you feel okay?” It’s rare to have non-fae in overnight care, so we don’t usually need to prepare human cuisine. Torryn’s plate is empty, though.

“I feel fine. I guess I’m a little sore, but she made the best meal I’ve had in weeks.”

Looks like her time living with humans has come in handy again. Honestly, I might help with replenishing our stock and overseeing most patient treatment, but she’s more than capable of taking over this place now. I’m just waiting for the right time…

“Speaking of Lennox,” Torryn interrupts. “She was rushing around lighting candles this morning like her life depended on it.”

It doesn’t, but she thinks mine does. “The candles help stabilize and recalibrate energy.”

“She seemed really worried. What happens if too many blow out?”

“Nothing. We live in a sakura that’s naturally one of the best magick generators for fae.” The candles are only a supplement in case my disease flares up.

His eyes widen. “You live in a tree?” He sweeps his arms out and raises his furrowed eyebrows at me. “With this much of a fire hazard?”

I can’t help but smile, shaking my head. It’s hard not to find his brightness a bit charming. Brightness. That’s what I’d call it. A combination of his smile and vivacity and humor. “They’ve never caught even a bay leaf on fire.”

“Still, it seems overkill. Smells nice, but overkill.”

“They’re unscented. You’re probably just smelling the herbs and supplies.”

He dramatically feigns devastation, flopping back on the bed. “All these candles and they don’t even smell good?”

I break into laughter, taking his plate to return to the kitchenette. I think he’ll be safe to discharge as soon as nightfall, but I’ll give him honey and keep monitoring him until then.

“Sitara.” He stops me before I go, still sprawled out, staring at the ceiling. “Lennox said you’d get sick without the candles.”

What?

“I don’t think she meant to. It kind of slipped out.” He turns to me, his eyes soft. “But she didn’t explain why.”

I suck in a breath, debating my response. Why did she tell him that? “I already told you. The tree is magickal enough to sustain fae without the candles.” His expression doesn’t change. “Try not to jump around. I’ll be right back.”

Lennox is back at the front service desk documenting a new shipment of sorts. I rest my elbows on the side across from her.

“What’s up? How’s Torryn?”

“Fine, fine. Good, actually.”

She blinks up at me. “Why are talking to me in that I-know-what-you-did voice?”

“I don’t know. Why’d you tell Torryn I’d get sick if you didn’t light enough candles?”

Her face scrunches up. “Well…” she trails off. “You know, I didn’t mean to say it out loud. I was tired. It was supposed to be an internal thought, but I verbalized it, making it a verbal thought, and he was right there. I’m used to being alone in the mornings, and a bunch more had blown out overnight than usual…”

“Lenny,” I cut her off, “It’s not that. I just don’t want you to worry so much about me.”

“But you entirely depleted your magick yesterday when you were healing. You couldn’t even move your hand!”

I wasn’t confident I had the time to spare for meditation during the process. It was important to catalyze the tissue growth as much as possible before working topically. “I understand your concern, but…” I can’t bring myself to say it. The candles aren’t going to keep me from getting sick.

“I know, I know. Don’t worry about you,” she breathes. “I’m sorry I said that to him. I didn’t tell him anything else.”

I squeeze her shoulder before heading back to the treatment ward. “Forget about that. He doesn’t seem like a threat.” I think it’s okay to trust him.

I think I want to know more about him.

#writing #writer #fiction #series #story #author #kan writes stories #iron bullet legacy

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do-gums-growback-blog · 5 years

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Do Gums Grow Back?

Although dentistry was not a focused branch of Ayurveda, it is consisted of in its own Shalakya Tantra (device of surgical treatment). Concerns like impairments of the oral cavity, cavity enducing plaques and contaminations were handled in early India. Traditional medicine may treat numerous contagious as well as persistent problems. Read more about Will A Receding Gum Grow Back?

Research has presented that all kinds of eating sticks described in ancient Ayurveda content possess therapeutic as well as anti-cariogenic residential or commercial properties. Its oil pulling (Kaval, Gandush) practice is actually stated to cure about 30 systemic conditions. Amla (Emblic myrobalan), is an overall rebuilder of oral health. Bilberry fruit (Vaccinium myrtillus) and hawthorn berry (Crateagus oxycanthus) maintain bovine collagen, strengthening the gum cells. Liquorice origin (Glycyrrhiza glabral) promotes anti-cavity action, lowers oral plaque buildup, as well as has an antibacterial effect.

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Use of safe, top quality items as well as practices must be actually made certain based on available evidence if standard medication is actually to be acknowledged as aspect of main medical. Scientific verifications of the Ayurveda dental health practices can warrant their consolidation right into modern dental treatment. Publicity of these approaches using suitable media would certainly help the general populace by giving more self-confidence in the historical techniques, therefore protecting against dental caries as well as loss. Keywords: Ayurveda, kaval, oral health, oil taking, conventional medicine Go to: INTRODUCTION

Ayurveda is an all natural system of medication which grew in India some 3000-5000 years ago, a body of traditional medication native to the Indian subcontinent, right now performed in other parts of the globe as a kind of corresponding medication.

[1] The earliest literature on Indian medical technique appeared during the Vedic time period in India. The Susruta Samhita as well as the Charaka Samhita are its earliest authoritative messages. [2] Over the centuries, Ayurvedic practitioners developed large numbers of medicinal plannings as well as procedures for the treatment of numerous disorders and also ailments. [3] Although dental care was certainly not a specialized branch of Ayurveda, it was consisted of in its unit of surgical operation. In historical India, concerns including deformities of the oral cavity, cavity enducing plaques and diseases can be handled and also also healed.In another research of clients with hypertension, extreme gum disease was associated with damage left wing side of the heart.

How To Grow Back Receding Gums Naturally?

Typical medicine is the result of know-how, skill-sets as well as techniques based upon the theories, beliefs and expertises aboriginal to various cultures that are utilized to maintain health, and also to stop, identify, enhance or alleviate physical and also mental illnesses. Conventional medication that has actually been taken on through other populations (outside its own indigenous lifestyle) is actually frequently termed complementary or natural medicine. Organic medications feature cannabis, plant based materials, plant based preparations, as well as finished plant based products that contain parts of plants or even various other plant products as active elements.

In some Asian and African countries, 80% of the populace depends on typical medicine for primary healthcare. In many industrialized countries, 70% to 80% of the populace has actually utilized some kind of different or complementary medicine. Organic therapies are one of the most well-liked type of standard medication, as well as are extremely financially rewarding in the worldwide marketplace. Yearly profits in Western Europe connected with US$ 5 billion in 2003-2004. In China sales of items visited US$ 14 billion in 2005. Organic medication income in Brazil was actually US$ 160 thousand in 2007. [4] Ayurveda and oral health

In Ayurveda, dental health (danta swasthya in Sanskrit) is held to be incredibly self-loving, differing along with everyone's nature (prakriti), and weather modifications coming from solar energy, lunar as well as earthly impacts (kala-parinama).

Grow Back Receding Gums Naturally

The physical body constitution is categorized based upon the preponderance of one or more of the 3 doshas, vata, pitta as well as kapha. The prominence dosha in both the personal and nature identifies medical care in Ayurveda, consisting of dental health. [5] Go to: EATING STICKS

Ayurveda recommends eating embed the early morning in addition to after every meal to avoid diseases. Ayurveda insists on using natural brushes, about 9 ins long and also the thickness of one's little hands. These natural herb catches must be actually either 'kashaya' (astringent), 'katu (acrid), or 'tikta' (bitter) in taste. The technique of making use of is to crush one end, eat it, and eat it little by little. [6] Toothbrushing is actually a task accomplished along with a 'toothbrush' which is a special little comb made for use on teeth. Biting a therapeutic stick equivalent encouraged through a Vaidya, or even other typical specialist, might validly be actually held to be equivalent to the western-pioneered task of 'brushing the teeth ', yet it is certainly not adequately comparable to become provided the same name, exclusively given that sticks that are actually munched are actually made use of totally in a different way from brushes.

It is actually suggested that nibbling sticks be actually obtained coming from fresh contains of certain vegetations. The natures neem (margosa or the Azadiraxhta indica) is actually a popular herbal chewing stick. The contains must be healthy and balanced, soft, without fallen leaves or even knots as well as taken from a healthy and balanced plant. Eating on these arises is felt to trigger weakening and levelling of biting areas, assist in salivary tears as well as, possibly, support in oral plaque buildup command, while some stems possess an anti-bacterial activity.

Will Gums Grow Back?

Apropos of the person's constitution as well as dominant dosha, it is mentioned that people along with the vata dosha prominence might build atrophic and receding gums, and also are advised to use chewing sticks with bitter-sweet or even astringent preferences, such as liquorice (Glycyrrhiza glabra) and black catechu or the cutch plant (Acacia Catechu Linn.), specifically. [7] Pitta dosha prevalent individuals are actually recommended to make use of chewing stick to an unsweetened taste like the branches coming from the margosa tree (Azadirachta indica or natures neem) and also the arjuna plant (Terminalia arjuna). Those with the kapha dosha prevalent are actually likely to possess light and also hypertrophic gums as well as are asked to utilize chewing stick to a pungent taste, presenting the high temperature nut (Caesalipinia bonduc) and also the usual milkweed plant (Calotropis procera). Modern investigation has revealed that all the chewing sticks described in ancient Ayurveda text messages (circa 200 BC) possess medical and also anti-cariogenic attributes. [8] Saimbi et alia (1994) checked the antiplaque efficiency of Neem extraction, Ayurvedic tooth powders as well as office tooth pastes. Natures neem extraction triumphed and also office tooth pastes were the final. [9] In yet another study Venugopal et alia (1998) studied a total of 2000 little ones (1-14 year generation) in Mumbai for decays occurrence. Those kids who were actually utilizing natures neem datun were found to be much less influenced along with cavities. [10] In southern India, mango leaf is actually largely made use of for cleansing teeth. A clean mango fallen leave is cleaned and the midrib is removed. Leaf is at that point folded lengthwise with glossy surface areas experiencing each other. It is actually rolled into a cylindrical pack. One end of this pack is actually bitten off 2-3mm to create a raw surface area which is wiped on the teeth - pack is held between the finger and also the index finger. By the end, the midrib, which was first cleared away, is actually utilized as a tongue cleaner. Sumant et alia (1992) examined the efficacy of mango leaf as an oral hygiene aid as well as gotten exciting searchings for.

How To Strengthen Gums Naturally?

[11] Greater smooth down payment scores were actually stated in team that used mango fallen leave. Cavities experience in this group using mango fallen leave was similar to the group that utilized tooth brush. Mangiferin a material current in mango leaves had considerable antibacterial characteristic versus certain strains of Pneumococci, Streptococci, Staphylococci, and also Lactobacillus acidophilus.

The miswak (miswaak, siwak, sewak) is actually a teeth cleansing twig created coming from a branch of the Salvadora persica tree, additionally called the arak tree or even the peelu plant and features in Islamic health law. The miswak is predominant in Muslim regions but its own use precedes the inception of Islam. Almas and also Atassi (2002) performed study to examine the effect of miswak as well as tooth comb filaments end-surface structure on enamel. Twenty-one samplings were readied; they were actually arranged right into Aquafresh toothbrush team, Miswak team and also control team. Outcomes revealed that filaments end-surface texture action primary role in rough active activity and polish tooth surface area loss. Miswak showed lesser impact on enamel as contrasted to Aquafresh toothbrush.

Do Receding Gums Grow Back?

[12] Almas and Zeid (2004) in a research to analyze antimicrobial activity of miswak eating stick in vivo, specifically on streptococcus mutans and lactobacilli confirmed that miswak possessed a prompt antimicrobial impact compared to toothbrush. Streptococcus mutans were even more susceptible to miswak than lactobacilli. [13]

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dental-pro-7-promo-code-blog · 5 years

Text

Dental Pro 7 Promo Code

Even though dental care was actually certainly not a concentrated division of Ayurveda, it is actually included in its own Shalakya Tantra (device of surgical treatment). Troubles such as impairments of the oral cavity, plaques and also contaminations were actually dealt with in ancient India. For more about Dental Pro 7 Directions

Typical medication may treat different transmittable and also persistent ailments. Study has shown that all kinds of chewing sticks defined in ancient Ayurveda text messages have therapeutic as well as anti-cariogenic residential or commercial properties.

Dental Pro 7 Gum Disease

Its oil drawing (Kaval, Gandush) technique is claimed to cure concerning 30 wide spread ailments. Amla (Emblic myrobalan), is actually a basic rebuilder of oral health. Bilberry fruit (Vaccinium myrtillus) and also hawthorn berry (Crateagus oxycanthus) support bovine collagen, enhancing the gum cells. Liquorice root (Glycyrrhiza glabral) markets anti-cavity action, reduces plaque, as well as has an antibacterial impact. Use safe, high quality products and also practices need to be ensured based upon offered evidence if standard medicine is actually to become acknowledged as portion of key healthcare. Scientific recognitions of the Ayurveda dental health strategies could possibly validate their unification right into modern-day dental treatment. Publicity of these techniques utilizing appropriate media would profit the standard populace by offering additional peace of mind in the ancient strategies, thereby avoiding dental caries and loss. Observe your dentist if you believe you possess gum disease due to the fact that the faster you alleviate it the much better. The onset of gum disease is actually contacted gingivitis. Keywords: Ayurveda, kaval, oral health, oil pulling, conventional medication Head to: OVERVIEW

Ayurveda is actually a comprehensive unit of medication which grew in India some 3000-5000 years back, an unit of traditional medication belonging to the Indian subcontinent, right now practiced in other portion of the globe as a form of corresponding medicine. [1] The earliest literary works on Indian medical technique showed up during the course of the Vedic period in India. The Susruta Samhita and the Charaka Samhita are its own earliest authoritative texts.

Dental Pro 7 Extra Strength Dental Solution

[2] Over the centuries, Ayurvedic experts created lots of medicinal plannings and surgical procedures for the treatment of numerous disorders as well as illness. [3] Despite the fact that dentistry was not a focused branch of Ayurveda, it was actually consisted of in its body of surgical treatment. In old India, problems including impairments of the oral cavity, oral plaque buildups as well as diseases might be handled as well as even remedied.

Conventional medicine is actually the sum total of know-how, capabilities and also methods based on the concepts, opinions as well as knowledge aboriginal to various societies that are used to sustain health, along with to stop, diagnose, strengthen or even deal with bodily and mental disorders. Standard medication that has actually been used by various other populaces (outside its own indigenous society) is often called complementary or even holistic medicine. Natural medications feature weeds, organic products, natural plannings, and ended up plant based items that contain aspect of plants or even various other vegetation components as energetic elements.

In some Asian and African nations, 80% of the populace depends upon conventional medication for main medical care. In numerous developed nations, 70% to 80% of the populace has actually made use of some type of alternative or complementary medication. Herbal therapies are the absolute most well-known form of conventional medication, as well as are actually strongly lucrative in the international market place. Yearly revenues in Western Europe connected with US$ 5 billion in 2003-2004. In China sales of products visited US$ 14 billion in 2005. Natural medicine revenue in Brazil was actually US$ 160 million in 2007.

How Much Does Dental Pro 7 Cost?

[4] Ayurveda as well as oral health

In Ayurveda, dental health (danta swasthya in Sanskrit) is actually upheld be actually very self-loving, differing with everyone's constitution (prakriti), and also climatic adjustments resulting from sunlight, lunar and wandering effects (kala-parinama). The body constitution is classified based on the preponderance of several of the 3 doshas, vata, pitta and kapha. The authority dosha in both the personal and nature calculates medical care in Ayurveda, consisting of dental health. [5] Most likely to: CHEWING STICKS

Ayurveda advises chewing embed the early morning in addition to after every meal to prevent diseases. Ayurveda emphasizes making use of organic brushes, about 9 ins long as well as the fullness of one's little finger. These natural herb sticks must be actually either 'kashaya' (astringent), 'katu (acrid), or 'tikta' (unsweetened) in flavor. The method of use is to crush one point, eat it, as well as eat it little by little. [6] Toothbrushing is a task performed with a 'tooth brush' which is actually an unique little bit of brush developed for usage on teeth. Munching a medical stick of a kind encouraged through a Vaidya, or various other conventional professional, may validly be held to be equivalent to the western-pioneered activity of 'brushing the teeth ', yet it is not adequately comparable to be offered the same title, specifically because sticks that are actually nibbled are actually utilized entirely differently coming from combs.

Dental Pro 7 For Loose Teeth

It is actually highly recommended that biting sticks be acquired coming from new contains of particular plants. The natures neem (margosa or the Azadiraxhta indica) is actually a widely known herbal chewing stick. The contains ought to be healthy and balanced, soft, without fallen leaves or knots as well as extracted from a healthy plant. Chomping on these stems is believed to cause attrition as well as levelling of attacking surface areas, assist in salivary tears and, probably, support in oral plaque buildup control, while some stems have an anti-bacterial activity. Apropos of the person's constitution and also prevalent dosha, it is actually mentioned that individuals with the vata dosha dominance might establish atrophic as well as receding gums, as well as are actually recommended to make use of chewing stick to bitter-sweet or even astringent flavors, like liquorice (Glycyrrhiza glabra) as well as black catechu or even the cutch tree (Acacia Catechu Linn.), specifically. [7] Pitta dosha dominant people are highly recommended to utilize chewing stick to an unsweetened taste including the branches coming from the margosa plant (Azadirachta indica or natures neem) and the arjuna plant (Terminalia arjuna). Those with the kapha dosha dominant are probably to possess ashen and hypertrophic gums as well as are inquired to utilize chewing sticks with a pungent flavor, pointing out the high temperature nut (Caesalipinia bonduc) as well as the popular milkweed plant (Calotropis procera). Modern research study has actually shown that all the chewing sticks described in ancient Ayurveda text messages (circa 200 BC) have medicinal as well as anti-cariogenic properties.

Reviews For Dental Pro 7

[8] Saimbi et alia (1994) examined the antiplaque effectiveness of Neem remove, Ayurvedic tooth particles and also commercial tooth mixes. Natures neem extract came out on top as well as office tooth mixes were actually the final. [9] In yet another research study Venugopal et al (1998) examined an overall of 2000 little ones (1-14 year age) in Mumbai for caries occurrence. Those youngsters who were using neem datun were actually found to be much less influenced along with tooth decays. [10] In southerly India, mango leaf is extensively used for cleansing teeth. A clean mango fallen leave is washed and the midrib is taken out. Fallen leave is then folded up lengthwise with lustrous surfaces experiencing one another. It is rolled right into a cylindrical pack. One end of the pack is actually bitten off 2-3mm to make a raw surface area which is rubbed on the teeth - pack is held in between the finger and the index finger. By the end, the midrib, which was first gotten rid of, is used as a tongue cleaner. Sumant et al (1992) examined the efficiency of mango leaf as an oral hygiene assistance and obtained appealing results. [11] Much higher delicate deposit ratings were actually disclosed in group that utilized mango fallen leave. Decays knowledge within this group using mango fallen leave resembled the group that used tooth brush. Mangiferin a material existing in mango leaves behind possessed significant antibacterial attribute against specific stress of Pneumococci, Streptococci, Staphylococci, and also Lactobacillus acidophilus.

The miswak (miswaak, siwak, sewak) is actually a teeth cleaning branch produced coming from a branch of the Salvadora persica plant, additionally known as the arak plant or the peelu tree as well as components in Islamic care jurisprudence. The miswak is predominant in Muslim places yet its own usage precedes the beginning of Islam. Almas and also Atassi (2002) administered investigation to analyze the effect of miswak and also tooth comb filaments end-surface texture on polish.

Instructions For Dental Pro 7

Twenty-one specimens were readied; they were separated right into Aquafresh toothbrush team, Miswak team as well as management team. Results showed that filaments end-surface structure play major part in unpleasant active task as well as polish tooth surface area reduction. Miswak presented smaller effect on enamel as matched up to Aquafresh toothbrush. [12] Almas and Zeid (2004) in a study to evaluate antimicrobial task of miswak eating stick in vivo, specifically on streptococcus mutans and lactobacilli concluded that miswak had an immediate antimicrobial effect compared to tooth brush. Streptococcus mutans were extra prone to miswak than lactobacilli.

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sp4c3-0ddity · 6 years

Text

burial rites

Summary

When the mission proves to be a huge waste of time, Pidge suffers.

//or, Pidge and Lance are assassins that get separated when they can't locate their target

Word count: 9325 (one-shot, complete)

A/N

uh yes this starts with whump/torture then goes into some comfort. modes of whump are waterboarding (a bit at the very beginning) and a character (almost) getting buried alive. if you’re uncomfortable with any of that, you may want to give this a pass OR skip to the second scene (just ctrl+f “***”)

my thanks to @rueitae for beta reading and @cgf-kat for validating the whump!! and to both of them for catching my inconsistencies

Read below or here on ao3:

Pidge gasps for breath as water drips down her face and soaks into her hair. Her throat and nostrils burn, so she coughs, searching for relief that can't be found with a drenched rag covering her face.

She tries to shake her head to knock the rag off, but rough hands still force her back so all she gets for her trouble is water up her nose.

Pidge's bare toes uselessly scrape the floor, seeking purchase, her arms wrenched high over her head with a chain looped through the thick rope binding her wrists. She grits her teeth against the nausea and dizziness and spits, "I already told you, I don't know where Lotor is! If I did, why the hell would I have come here?"

She's pleased with the steadiness in her voice even as her whole body trembles, with the cold of the water sliding down her back and the fear gripping her with each second that passes and she still can't assess her surroundings.

She'd guess they're in an unfinished basement, the same one she ventured into against her own - and Lance's - better judgment. And either they found and stole her earpiece - her one link to her partner outside the dilapidated art studio - after she hit her head and blacked out or the water damaged it.

(The last thing she heard through the earpiece was Lance shouting her name.)

"We've heard good things about your firm," her assailant with the higher voice simpers behind her. She lets go, Pidge gasping in shock at the release of pressure on the back of her head, but then thin, strong fingers grasp her chin and turn her face in a direction she still can't see through the rag over her eyes. "The agents have a reputation for doing their research, so if anyone knows where he really is, it would be one of you."

"Your logic...isn't logical," Pidge says, her breath too short. "You just used a cheap trap."

"It worked, didn't it?" the other, gruffer one says. "But we were expecting a hornet, not a mosquito."

It doesn't hurt; it's easy to underestimate her and she learned to use it to her advantage, so Pidge smirks under the rag. "Mosquitoes carry diseases."

"It doesn't matter if we don't let them bite." A blow falls against her face, making her gasp and whipping her head back so forcefully stars dance inside her eyelids. But it dislodges the rag from her face even as Pidge furiously blinks tears out of her smarting eye.

A quick scan of the room ascertains it is a dingy, unfinished basement with a dirt floor and flimsy walls with the boards only partially filled.

"Look what you did, Zethrid," the shorter of the two women chides, gesturing towards the rag. "Now she's seen our faces."

The bulkier woman raises her fist and sneers. "Like she'll be able to tell anyone about us after we're done with her, Ezor.”

A shiver of fear runs down Pidge's spine. Is this how it ends? She's been at this job less than a year, and this was her first real lead...

But no, Lance will be looking for her.

But how long will it take? Pidge doesn't know how extensive the network of tunnels is, not when she dangles from the ceiling of a room she didn't see during her brief survey. How far did they take her from the place at the base of the stairs where they found her?

Ezor steps towards her, a teasing grin on her lips as she trails the handle of her whip down Pidge's cheek. "So if you don't know where Lotor is, maybe there's something else you can tell us."

"Like what?" Pidge demands, her eyes narrowing.

"Oh, Zethrid, who was that one operative that escaped the boss?"

"He was a hacker, wasn't he?" Zethrid says. She crosses her muscular arms, shrugging. "Scrawny guy; wasn't much fun to wrestle."

"Right, that guy!" Ezor says. She claps her hands together, smiling gleefully. "But he was cute, at least, right?" When Zethrid just rolls her eyes and snorts, she turns back to Pidge. "Kind of looked like you, actually..."

Pidge's breath catches, her legs thrashing uselessly, but the chains hold her fast, and she's quickly gasping for air all over again.

"Look at that, Zethrid," Ezor says, resting a hand on her hip and appraising Pidge. "She does know something. What was his name?"

Pidge knows Ezor addresses Zethrid, but she can't stop herself from blurting, "Matt."

Ezor smirks. "Oh, yeah! Want to tell us something about him?"

"Eat shit!" Pidge hisses.

"Wrong answer," Ezor scolds her before her whip whistles through the air and strikes her cheek.

A scream tears out of her throat, more from the shock of rough wire thrashing across her face than the pain. But the fire in her skin comes a heartbeat later, when hot blood oozes down her face.

Ezor leans towards Pidge, her eyes narrowed almost thoughtfully, and observes, "Now they really do look alike."

Does that mean...did Matt receive the same treatment from these assholes? The thought makes Pidge's chest squeeze with fear for him...and anger.

But wait. "You said...you said he escaped," Pidge says. "W-when? From who?"

"Ah, ah, this is an interrogation, not a job interview." Ezor frowns, shaking her head as if she's disappointed. "We had such high hopes for you, didn't we, Zethrid?"

Zethrid just grunts and comments, "So...she's a dud. She doesn't even know where her own damn brother is."

Pidge's heart beats at the back of her head, painfully fast. She breathes shallowly, but refuses to look cowed, glaring up at Ezor. "Worried you wasted your time?" she hisses.

(Because she's worried she wasted hers.)

"Oh, torture is never a waste of time," Ezor says with a cheerful click of her tongue, "but in this case..." She glances over her shoulder at Zethrid. "I'd love to smack her around a bit more, but her partner will be on his way."

And that's Pidge's cue. She sucks as much air as she can into her aching lungs and screams.

Ezor clues in on what she's doing quickly, eschewing her whip and smacking a hand over her mouth. Pidge tries to bite her, tries to kick and headbutt, but she nimbly replaces her hand with the same sodden rag knocked off her face, only now she forces it between her teeth and ties it at the back of her head.

The gag is just one more thing on Pidge's lengthening list of hurts, so she rolls her eyes and glares - wishing looks could kill - at Ezor as she steps back to admire her handiwork.

"What should we do with her?" Zethrid asks. "You think boss lady would be interested in a pint-sized assassin? She can hold her against her brother."

"True," Ezor says with a thoughtful tap to her chin, "but I don't think we can get away fast enough, so ransoming her to her boss lady is out too." She hums, scanning the unfinished room for ideas before her gaze lifts to the dusty light bulb dangling from the ceiling.

Pidge's heart thumps painfully while they decide her fate, her stomach tied into a heavy knot of dread. She just dangles from the ceiling, both saliva and blood soaking into the rag that was just lying on the dirt floor, her arms sore as blood drains from them.

Well, at least she's not as dizzy anymore.

"We should just get it over with and kill her," Zethrid says.

It's not surprising, not really. Pidge expected them to kill her from the instant she opened her eyes and they started waterboarding her. But her chest tightens, regret making her heart heavy as she thinks of all the things she never got to do: reunite with Matt, design the perfect surveillance drone, finish Doctor Who with her mother, learn to ride a motorcycle, beat Lance's high score in Pinball...

God, she'll never tell Lance how grateful she is he agreed to their partnership, how she feels about him and his stupid flirty face and his stupid butt.

"Great idea, babe!" Ezor exclaims. She jerks a thumb over her shoulder and adds, "Why waste a perfectly good hole begging to be filled?"

Before Pidge can process the implication in her words, Zethrid smirks and unchains her from the ceiling. She gasps around her gag at the sudden loosening of her stiff muscles, held in one position for too long, but she has no time for any relief when her wrists are still bound together and Zethrid picks her up.

Pidge thrashes against her hold, jerking her fists towards Zethrid's face to no avail. She's beefy and indomitable, barely batting an eye on her muffled shrieks before she dumps her through a hole in the plaster wall.

Pidge tumbles to the ground, her elbows hitting and sending a shock through her arms. She stumbles upright to her cuffed hands and knees, heart racing in her throat and a stupid, pained whimper escaping her. "N-n-n—" she tries to say around the gag.

Dirt flies through the hole and scatters against the wall's other side and the floor. Pidge blinks a few particles from her eyes right as another cloud of dust joins the first.

She inhales some, sputtering through the gag. She presses against the wall as more and more dirt flies in, trying to push herself to her feet. But the hole in the wall is too high for her to even peer through, much less grab with bound hands and heave herself out.

Ezor chatters away on the other side. "You think her partner would know something about Lotor if we ask nicely?"

Pidge shrieks around the gag, pounding her fists against the wall even as the soil and plaster rise higher. Her blood boils with an almost alien rage; if they hurt Lance...

"Doubt it," Zethrid replies with a snort. "He's not a hacker like this one, so he'll be even more useless."

"Then the least we can do is bury him with her," Ezor says. "Wouldn't you like that, tiny assassin?"

Pidge would scream and shout curses at them if she could, but now it takes all her effort to raise her hands over her head, not when the dirt rises to her chest and the gag makes it so hard to simply cough and loosen the particles caught in her throat. She doubts there's a single orifice in her body clear of soil.

Her head throbs and spins again, her stomach turning, her whole body weighed down by the dirt. It's all heavier than she expected even after spending every spring - against her will - helping her mother lug bags of potting soil into the greenhouses.

Pidge uselessly tries to push dirt away from her. She swallows her rising panic, swallows all the pointless sobs that threaten to escape her. She has to live, has to find Matt and return home and—

An unmistakable gunshot rings out, and glass shatters before the room plunges into absolute darkness. And no more dirt rains on Pidge's head.

"Oh, welcome!" Ezor greets. "We were wondering when you would show up, but I wonder...how are you planning on shooting us if you can't see us?"

"Like this," Lance growls before he fires another shot.

***

Lance has killed more people than he can count since he joined the firm. He aimed and pulled the trigger with someone within sight of his scope, muttering under his breath all the crimes they committed without consequence until Allura sent him into the field to end them.

But no kill ever felt like these.

His heart races, blood burning with rage as he fires each shot. The darkness doesn't bother him - his other senses are good, and he can predict their next moves - but it clearly does them, so it gives him an edge.

Air whistles as the big one (he thinks) swings her shovel towards him. Lance steps back, raising the handgun and firing a single shot, a pained groan his reward. Usually he might smirk in triumph, but with his body pumped full of adrenaline and Pidge still out of reach, he can't celebrate.

A whip winds around his left arm, jerking at him, but Lance tugs back. The captor at the other end gasps in surprise, but before he can shoot in that direction, the whip goes slack and the room silent.

Lance stills, holding his breath and body poised to strike. His fingers tighten around the handgun, ears peeled for the slightest hint of sound.

The cocking of a gun greets him before cool metal presses to his temple. "You think you're the only one who gets angry when their partner's hurt?" the same chick that spoke to him demands, her voice harsher.

Lance grits his teeth. "Maybe you should've thought of that before you tried to kill mine," he sneers.

"Oh, honey, there's no tried about it," she retorts.

It's her final mistake.

The next gunshot is his and drops her instantly, but he doesn't bother checking if it did the job since a different frenzy grips him.

Lance flicks on his flashlight and shines it around the small, dirty room, heart pounding in his throat with each sweep that doesn't land on Pidge. A glint of metal chain links dangling from the ceiling fills him with anger all over again, at least until he spots the hole in the wall.

Lance runs towards it, towards a muffled whimper and wheeze that gets louder the closer he draws. "Pidge!" he shouts, reaching through before he even thunders to a stop.

Pidge's dirt-crusted, tear-streaked face stares up at him. He half-clambers through the hole, desperately shoving dirt aside towards the wall, enough that he can free her arms and wrap his around her body to heave her out with him.

They crumple to the floor, Pidge a shaking, coughing mess when he tugs the dirty gag away from her mouth. He wipes dirt off her face with the hem of his shirt, and though she's sitting here with him, her body blessedly warm and alive, his heart refuses to slow.

"Y-you're gonna be okay," he promises her, cupping her cheeks and kissing her dusty forehead.

Pidge nods, but not without a shudder ripping through her. Her fingers latch onto his shirt, and that's when Lance notices her wrists are bound with thick rope.

He fights the fresh wave of anger, instead finding his pocket knife and sawing through them. Pidge gasps when her wrists are freed, rubbing the raw, bruised skin before glancing around the dark room with wide eyes. "W-where did they—"

Lance reassures her, "They're not hurting you again."

Pidge meets his gaze, hers steelier than he expects to his relief. "G-good, but..." She trails off, frowning with something obviously on her mind.

"But what?" Lance demands. "Pidge, they—"

She shakes her head, and Lance decides against pressing, despite his frustration.

"W-we should do something about the bodies before we leave," Pidge suggests in a surprisingly steady voice.

"Y-yeah," he agrees, scanning the room till his eyes land on them, hatred filling him at the sight. "I think I know how."

***

Lance carries Pidge away from the scene, all the way through the dark, labyrinthine basement and up the stairs and out of the abandoned art studio. Outside it's later than when they arrived, at least an hour past sunset, but streetlights flood the area between the studio and their van.

Pidge weakly protested him picking her up at first, citing that he was probably tired after taking care of the bastards who tortured and tried to kill her, but when he held her anyway, she settled against his chest without complaint.

Lance wishes the first time he carried her like this was under better circumstances.

The streetlights throw Pidge's grimy, bloody, disheveled appearance into sharp relief. A grimace twists his lips, hot anger filling him all over again. A deep cut that oozes blood stands out against her cheek, one of her eyes is almost swollen shut, and her other eye is bloodshot. Dirt crusts her lips and skin, flecks of white plaster standing out in her hair, and when he makes the mistake of trying to dust some off, she winces when his fingers brush the back of her head. She looks small and vulnerable - more vulnerable than he’s ever seen her - bundled up in his jacket, and it hurts.

He could've prevented this if he tried harder to dissuade her from venturing into the basement, if he'd been faster to pursue, if he never agreed to the partnership she and Allura proposed, if—

Pidge coughs wetly, jerking him from his thoughts, and leans over to spit dirt-specked saliva onto the sidewalk. She groans, her arms flung loosely around his neck, and complains, "My mouth tastes disgusting."

Lance raises an eyebrow. "That was the grossest thing I've ever seen you do."

Pidge rolls her eyes. "You still laugh at fart jokes."

Heat fills his cheeks as he averts his eyes and mumbles, "They can be funny..."

She snorts but doesn't contradict them.

The van chirps when he unlocks it, and he carefully maneuvers Pidge in his arms to open the passenger door. He deposits her in the seat before his gaze roves over her face, taking in every bit - every speck of dirt or dried blood, every freckle, every eyelash - and not a little worried about letting her out of his sight.

Pidge stares back with wide eyes, color filling her cheeks. "Lance?"

"Uh..." He clears his throat and forces a smile he doesn't quite feel onto his face. "Seat belt?"

"Fine, Mom," Pidge grumbles, tugging it on with a click - but not without his jacket sleeves sliding down and flashing the bruises staining her wrists.

Lance shuts her door and quickly rounds the car, releasing a sigh of relief when he sits in the driver's seat beside her. But the silence that fills the car then is stifling, and he hesitates to turn the key in the ignition.

"What do you want to do now?" he wonders carefully.

"Take a long, hot shower," she says immediately.

"Maybe we...see Coran first," Lance suggests, peering at her from the corner of his eye. When Pidge shakes her head, her gaze fixed on her hands folded in her lap, he insists, "Pidge, you're hurt."

"Obviously."

Lance tries not to take her grumpiness personally. "But—"

"I'm not ready—I don't want to answer his questions yet," she tells him in a low voice.

"Then—"

"Take me home to clean up first, Lance," Pidge says, her eyes finally flicking back to him. "Then maybe we can...go to Hunk's. I would kill for one of his peanut butter-filled cupcakes."

Lance meets her eyes; in them he sees a plea for...normalcy, he thinks. Never mind the nasty cut on her cheek or her black eye or any of the other invisible hurts - physical or not - littering her body.

But he smiles and agrees, "Okay, we'll go with your plan."

***

Pidge can't find a rational excuse for Lance to sit in the bathroom with her while she showers. She walked just fine on her own power from the van up to her second floor apartment and has no problem undressing - reluctantly putting his jacket aside to launder and return to him later - aside from some soreness in her legs and arms.

Except for the stinging cut on her cheek, the swollen eye, the throbbing at the back of her head, and the burn in her throat and nostrils, she might be almost...normal.

But being alone right now fills her with an unreasonable fear.

She forces herself to bear it anyway; it's just a shower! Hot water washes away the dirt still caked on her skin and trapped in her hair, the heat easing the tension in her muscles, but when it comes time to rinse the blood off her cheek, it’s suddenly difficult to breathe. She draws back from the water, her heart stuttering in her chest, and washes the blood off with wet hands instead.

(What is wrong with her that she can barely clean herself without her air getting trapped in her lungs and her heart jumping into her throat?)

She concentrates on breathing, on the even pattering of water drops on the tub floor, and refuses to get lost in a spiral of thoughts. She scrubs and scrubs all the dust and blood and grime away until her fingertips are wrinkled and her skin pink and raw, before she turns off the water and nearly trips over the tub in her hurry to get out and towel off.

Lance sits at her kitchen table - cluttered with surveillance equipment prototypes she “borrowed” from the firm - when she emerges from the bathroom, cleaning his handgun with the same care she pays her tech. But he looks up at the sound of her footsteps, a smile lighting up his face...though worry colors it.

"How're you feeling?" he wonders.

"Better," she says, wiggling her toes and stretching her shoulders. Her heart finally slows and steadies, relieved to be done and refreshed despite her anxiety. She tugs the towel wrapping her hair off and drops it over the back of a chair. "You ready to go?"

"Are you sure you—"

"Yes," Pidge insists. She slips a sweater on over her tank top and shoves her bare feet into a pair of sandals.

She just wants to do something normal, and their post-mission ritual of coffee and cake at Hunk's bakery is normal.

(She also wants Lance to stop looking at her as if she'll break, but she doubts that'll happen after the day's fiasco.)

But then Lance points to his cheek and says, "You're bleeding again."

Pidge reaches up, eyes widening when her fingertips touch a damp, warm liquid. "Oh."

"Told you we should've—" He cuts himself off with a sigh. "Do you have first-aid supplies?"

"Yeah," she says, "in the bathroom." She turns to retrieve them, but Lance beats her to it, pushing his chair back and stepping past her with a few long strides.

He returns with a box of Band-Aids and tube of Neosporin before nudging her shoulder. Pidge takes it for a silent instruction and perches in a chair beside his.

Even though she's perfectly capable of doing something so simple herself, she lets Lance wipe the fresh blood away with a tissue and smear ointment - probably too generously - onto the cut. His fingers are gentle, his breath warm where it brushes her skin, and every sensation sends little shivers up her spine.

Which is a rather...useless reaction to have to someone - even Lance - patching her up, in her opinion. So she holds her breath and avoids his gaze as he sticks three bandages over the cut.

"Coran could've done a better job," he grumbles.

"Probably," Pidge agrees with a shrug, "but this is good enough."

"You'll probably end up with a scar, Pidge," Lance points out.

She tries a smirk on for size, though it feels...fragile and forced. "I'll look cool and edgy," she jokes. "No one will mess with me anymore." When Lance barely cracks a smile, she desperately adds, "I guess the unfortunate side effect is that my good looks suffer."

Now they really do look alike!

Lance's warm chuckle tears her from the depths of recollection. "Not so easy to do that," he says.

Pidge bites her lip, suddenly self-conscious under his gaze. She stands and throws away the bandage wrappers, saying, "We going or not?"

Lance holds the door open for her, but before she passes through his hand finds hers. The stupid gesture makes her heart stutter, and she's momentarily breathless when she looks up at him.

"What?" she says, quirking an eyebrow.

Lance frowns, reaching up with his other hand to smooth down one of the bandages on her face. "Nothing! Just..."

When he still hesitates - this is so not like him, and it has her chest tightening in worry - she squeezes his hand and says, "Then come on; Hunk won't be open all night."

***

Lance struggles to drive straight and not veer out of his lane. He can't take his eyes off Pidge - and not for the usual reasons.

He almost lost her to two psychos that tried to bury her alive, so he's not planning on letting her out of his sight anytime soon if he can help it. Waiting for her to finish showering had been hard enough, even when he found something to do with his hands, but a whole night?

At least he's guaranteed to see her in the morning - and make sure she survived the night - when they have to report to Allura for their botched mission debriefing, but now...

Pidge is too quiet, stuck in her own head while she gazes out the window. Lance searches for something - anything - to say that’ll draw her out, distract her, but for once he’s at a loss for words.

Several cleared throats and false starts later, Lance parks the van on the street in front of Hunk’s bakery. He steps out and feeds a few quarters to the meter, grumbling that maybe this time he should put this on his mission expense report - surely coffee and cake is a form of therapy? - before spinning around at the sound of the van’s door opening.

But it’s just Pidge, sliding out till her feet touch the ground. “So…” She shoves her hands into her sweatshirt pockets and nods towards the cheerfully lit bakery. “Who’s buying this time?”

“Me, if I have my way,” Lance says immediately, easily. The familiarity of the question sets him at ease, and it slips them into a routine.

Hit taken, mission complete, unwinding over sugar and caffeine while they chat nonsensically and decide what to leave out of their report to Allura until Hunk chides them for “keeping secrets”…

Lance doubts there will be much of that debate this time.

“You paid last time,” Pidge retorts. She leads the way to the door, and the bell overhead greets them with a cheery ring.

The heavenly intermingling scents of cinnamon, nutmeg, coffee, and chocolate saturate the air inside, almost suffocating in their strength. He inhales and smiles before raising an eyebrow at Pidge and wondering, “Did you even bring your wallet?”

Pidge rolls her eyes but mutters, “No…”

He smirks, already triumphant, and saunters up to the display.

Hunk stands with his back turned, working at the espresso machine. It hisses as it foams the milk before he pours it into a waiting pastel yellow mug. He slides it and its matching saucer across the counter, winking at Pidge. “I was wondering when you guys would finally show your faces,” he says before busying himself at the dessert display.

Pidge stares into the latte. “Is it flavored?” she asks, picking up the mug and staring suspiciously into it.

“Extra caramel, just for you,” Hunk promises.

Lance peers over her shoulder and muffles a snort at the art in the milk: a small face with a zigzagging grin and a pair of obnoxious glasses.

Just like Pidge’s little avatar.

“It’s a good likeness,” Lance compliments. When Pidge shoots him an unimpressed glance, he smiles apologetically…at least until Hunk hands him his own drink.

“What is…this?” Lance turns the mug around, but the squashed heart in his mug only manages to look like an upside down squashed heart.

Pidge laughs and nudges him in the side. “I think Hunk put more effort into my latte than into yours.”

“But…” Lance frowns before glancing up at Hunk and his cheerful smirk. “I thought we were friends!”

Hunk raises his hands defensively. “We are, but it’s late, so next time you want more impressive latte art you come earlier in the day.”

“But Pidge’s—”

“Pidge has a black eye, Lance,” Hunk says. “Of course I’m going to do something nicer for her.”

Lance rolls his eyes but doesn’t protest. Instead he looks to Pidge, wary that she might react to Hunk’s observation, but she just snickers and sets her mug on the counter before leaning over and saying, “I’ll have my usual, please, Hunk.”

“Peanut butter-filled cupcake?”

“You got it.”

While Hunk sets Pidge’s cupcake and a chocolate cake donut - Lance’s, per his request that Hunk always “surprise” him - on a tray, Lance extracts his wallet from his back pocket only for Hunk himself to say, “It’s on me tonight.” His eyes drift towards Pidge, gingerly perching at the edge of a chair in the corner with her latte in front of her; he leans across the counter towards Lance and mutters, “She looks like she needs sleep more than caffeine though.”

Lance represses a sigh and instead smiles; it’s not too hard, not when Pidge is safe and with him. “Well, you know our Pidge,” he says. “She’ll drink it and pass out an hour later if she has nothing else to do.”

“Right, well, make sure she doesn’t find something else to keep her awake,” Hunk advises. “I’ll come talk to you guys after I clean up.” Hunk claps Lance on the shoulder before grabbing a washcloth and wiping down the counter.

Lance takes the tray - because who is he to turn down a free dessert? - and takes the chair beside Pidge. He pushes her cupcake towards her.

“It kind of looks like a cardioid too,” Pidge says, tilting her head to look into his mug.

“A what now?” Lance leans over the mug, his head close to hers.

“It’s a trig function that resembles a squished heart when you graph it,” Pidge explains before raising her own mug to her lips.

Lance can’t remember a thing from high school trig, but he grins, a stupid fondness filling his chest when she meets his eyes. “You know, you’re cute when you talk nerdy.”

Pidge sputters into her latte, spraying coffee and milk onto the table. She sets the mug down, coughing, her face turning red. “Th-thanks, Lance,” she stutters.

Lance, startled by her reaction, grabs a napkin and hands it to her. “Oh, shoot, sorry,” he says. “Are you okay?”

Pidge coughs as she accepts the napkin. “Y-yeah, just…how many times am I going to choke in one day?”

Lance’s eyes widen, his stomach turning with guilt because…well, good going, him.

“But, uh, really…” She smiles slightly as she peels the paper wrapper off her cupcake. “Thanks for bringing me here and not to the firm.”

He returns her smile, her gratitude setting him at ease, as they both turn to their desserts. His donut is as good as a donut can be thanks to Hunk’s handiwork, and Pidge obviously relishes her cupcake judging by the speck of peanut butter icing that sticks to her nose.

Lance laughs and points it out for her to wipe away, then wonders why he didn’t just do it for her. Her feet brush his under the table, and the normalcy of the atmosphere unwinds some of the tension in his body. Warmth fills his chest, warmth and an immeasurable gratitude that they can even share sweets and coffee.

Until his shirtsleeve slides down his arm.

Pidge’s eyes widen when they land on the purple strip winding around his skin. Before he can cover it, her hand shoots out, fingers gently grasping his wrist and pushing the sleeve up further. “Lance, when—”

“Must’ve been during the scuffle,” Lance supplies hurriedly. “I can’t remember when.”

Pidge touches the bandages on her cheek with an absent look in her eye. Lance swallows, because he knows where her mind drifted, but before he can bring her back, she asks, “Is there anything—”

“Nope,” he cuts her off, smiling in what he hopes is a disarming manner. He was lucky to get away from that fight mostly unscathed, so he’ll be damned if Pidge fixates on his hurts when hers could’ve been so much worse. “It’s just a bruise, Pidge.”

“So is my black eye,” she points out with a pout that might be cute in any other circumstances.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t even notice this until you pointed it out,” Lance says…which is true. He was - and still is - too concerned about her state to care much about a bruise that isn’t even bothering him, so he extracts his arm from her warm grip and tugs his sleeve down to his wrist.

Pidge opens her mouth - possibly to call him out on what’s not a lie - but before she utters a word Hunk slides into the third chair at their table, batting his eyes at Lance. “Am I interrupting anything?”

“Nope,” Lance says at the same time that Pidge grumbles, “Yes.”

Hunk stares between them before saying, “You two are the reason I only work part-time at the firm.”

Lance gasps, indignant, and presses an offended hand to his chest. “Us? What the hell did we do?”

“Everything,” Hunk complains. “The bickering, the flirting—”

“The what now?”

“—the pranks.” He jerks a finger at Lance. “You were bad enough on your own, but it was all downhill when Pidge quit dispatch and joined you in the field.”

Lance glances at Pidge and wonders, “Are you just going to take this from him?”

Pidge, to his shock, snickers. “Yes, because if he hadn’t retired, we wouldn’t be blessed with his peanut butter-filled cupcakes.”

Lance eyes the distinct lack of crumbs on Pidge’s plate. “I can see how that benefits you, Pidge,” he says, “but the world is missing out on Hunk’s expertise.” He gestures towards his friend - some friend - and sighs. “Why, Hunk, why.”

“I had a higher calling than cutting brake lines and arranging accidents,” Hunk explains simply. His fingers, not often caught still, fold a napkin into a crane. “Baking is better for my nerves too, and if I really want a thrill, I just ask you guys or Keith about your missions.” He slides the finished crane towards Pidge before resting his elbow on the table and smiling. “So…how was today’s?”

Pidge tenses, but Hunk doesn’t seem to notice as he continues, “It must’ve been pretty epic if you wound up with a black eye.”

Lance crosses his arms, irritation crawling under his skin, and retorts, “Not how I would call it.”

“So you showed them?” Hunk grins and pats Pidge on the shoulder…

…or tries to. She shoves his hand aside, pushes her chair back, and announces, “I’m gonna use the restroom. Do you guys want anything?”

Hunk raises an eyebrow, obviously confused. “From the restroom?”

Lance half-stands and asks, “Do you want me to come—”

“Quit coddling me, Lance,” Pidge snaps before spinning around and stalking towards the back of the bakery.

Lance stares after her retreating figure, his heart heavy as he wonders if he should follow anyway. Should Pidge be alone right now? But her parting words sting and he doesn’t want to overstep, so he turns to Hunk and smacks him upside the head.

Hunk glares at him. “What was that for?” he demands.

“Are you freaking blind?” Lance exclaims, gesturing towards where Pidge went. “Can’t you tell she just had her worst mission ever?”

(And the worst it will remain if he has anything to say about it.)

“No!” Hunk says, raising his hands defensively. “I’ve seen you guys with worse injuries; you”—he prods Lance’s chest—“once sauntered in here with a broken arm and boasted that the other guy looked worse!”

A prickle of shame hits him, so he mutters, “Because I got the job done that time.”

“Then…” When Lance shakes his head, Hunk sucks in a breath. “What happened?”

Lance sighs, fresh anger spent, and buries his face in his hands. “It was a trap,” he says. “We spent almost two weeks surveying that art studio, checking for any funny business before going in, but our target wasn’t there. Instead we found two assholes that chained up and tortured Pidge, and they would’ve killed her”—by burying her alive—”if I hadn’t gotten there in time.” His fingers close around a napkin - the crane Hunk folded - and crumple it into a wrinkly ball. “I still haven’t found the nerve to ask her if they wanted information or were just plain sadistic.” He’s sick to his stomach just thinking about it and furious all over again.

Shooting those bastards and burying them dead was too kind a fate.

“God,” Hunk breathes. “How is she walking around after all that?”

“I don’t know, Hunk,” Lance admits. “She’s stronger than that though.” The restroom doorway draws his eye, but there’s no sign of Pidge. “We still have to report to Allura, and Pidge will have to talk about it.”

Because Allura will want to know everything; she’s nothing if not thorough, and if someone is luring the assassins working at her firm into traps, she’ll find ways to make them pay.

“I’m sorry I smacked you,” Lance says. He pats Hunk on the shoulder. “You didn’t deserve that.”

Hunk smiles. “I get it,” he says. “I’d be the same - all jumpy and angry - if someone tried hurting Romelle.”

“Your…fiancee Romelle?” Lance wonders with an eyebrow quirked.

“Do you know any other Romelles?”

With Hunk almost smirking at him, the implication sticks the landing. Heat rushes to Lance’s cheeks, so he does what any self-respecting assassin head-over-heels for his partner would do and buries his face in the crook of his elbow. “It is…not the same thing,” he grumbles into his sleeve.

“Of course not,” Hunk says sardonically, “because Romelle would know that I’m smothering her out of concern because I love her and that she can lean on me, while Pidge might not get that.”

Lance dares to peek at him. “What’s your point, Hunk?”

“She’ll be too shy to ask you for certain…kinds of help if she doesn’t know how deep your feelings go.”

“Are you saying I should tell her?” Lance wonders. “Now?”

“No, not now,” Hunk says, “but you really should soon. I’m just saying that…well, you’ll know what she needs from you better than I will.”

“What if…what if she doesn’t want whatever that is from me?” Lance asks, the very idea making his heart sink. He already feels impotent in the face of whatever trauma Pidge carries - he should’ve gotten there sooner - so what if she doesn’t want anything from him?

Hunk pats him on the shoulder and explains, “The least you can do is offer; if she doesn’t accept, then that’s okay too.”

“Right, I—” he cuts himself off abruptly when a motion in the corner catches his eye.

Pidge finally emerges from the restroom, the door swinging shut behind her, and returns to them. Her gaze shifts from the floor to his face, but the frown on her lips fills him with an odd dread.

“Pidge!” Hunk greets her. “I was beginning to think you fell in.”

She laughs, though it sounds half-hearted and fragile. “Not this time.”

Hunk then stands and wraps his arms around her, engulfing her in a hug without saying a word.

Pidge’s eyes widen in surprise, but she returns his embrace with her eyes pinched shut.

Lance isn’t jealous of Hunk, no, not at all…and Pidge looks so small and almost frightened in his arms that his chest tightens with fresh worry.

At last Pidge steps away from Hunk and turns to Lance, pushing hair away from her face - away from her swollen eye and the bandages standing out on her cheek - and clearing her throat. “I’m sorry I snapped at you, Lance.”

Lance blinks, surprised, and rubs the back of his neck, feeling more awkward around his partner than he has since…well, since ever. “Uh, it’s okay, Pidge.”

“It’s not,” she counters. She crosses her arms, her shoulders hunched, and adds, “You’re just trying to help.”

“Do you…want me to take you home?”

Pidge toys with the hem of her sweatshirt as she quietly admits, “I kinda don’t want to be alone at my apartment tonight.”

“You can spend the night in my spare bedroom,” Hunk offers.

Pidge sags and turns to him with a grateful smile. “Do I get carbs in the morning too?”

Hunk grins. “Only the very best carbs,” he promises.

Pidge laughs, a little more strongly this time, but then she looks to Lance and… “Then I’ll…see you in the morning at the firm when we have to face Allura?”

An almost alien panic grips Lance; they have to part so soon? But he forces a smile onto his face and says, “There’s no one I’d rather have at my side.”

Pidge’s smile falters, and for a second she looks like she wants to say something else.

But Lance remembers Hunk’s advice and blurts, “Unless you want me to stay with you.”

His heart pounds while he waits for her to either agree or deny, her face unreadable until a relieved grin stretches across her face. “Yes, I-I”—she clears her throat—”yes.”

Lance grins, but before he can even sag in relief, Hunk rests his hands on his hips and says, “You do realize there’s only one bed, right? You’ll have to share.”

Why the hell does he sound so damn cheerful about that? Lance for his part suddenly feels way too warm. “Uh, well—”

“Perfect,” Pidge says. Her fingers close around his wrist, and she bids Hunk goodnight before dragging Lance towards the stairs.

***

Pidge can scarcely believe there was once a time when she preferred solitude to Lance’s company. When she worked dispatch and had to call him to send him on a hit, he spoke too familiarly though they were near-strangers. Keith would simply grunt, and Hunk would be friendly but impersonal (at least until they got to know each other). But Lance…

Somehow, through chatting and teasing over the phone and a year-long partnership after she quit dispatch to better devote herself to finding Matt, she endured Lance…and he grew on her.

It’s an understatement of epic proportions when she can’t bear the thought of parting from him now, not after the day’s trials and his timely rescue. She expected to be more galled that this mission turned her into a literal damsel-in-distress, but now she’s just grateful the air she breathes is clean.

(Well, as clean as it can be in a city with too-lax regulations on carbon and particle emissions.)

She tries not to think too much about the possible implications behind her and Lance sharing a bed; after all, she wants him here, so she’ll have to live with it.

She strips down to her tank top in lieu of actual pajamas, watching Lance clutching his belt buckle and staring down at his dirty jeans. “You can take them off,” she tells him, shrugging as she jumps onto the full-sized bed. “It’s not like they’re hiding something I’ve never seen before.”

Lance looks vaguely constipated - it’s amusing though not an expression that suits him - but follows her suggestion, unbuckling his belt and shucking off his jeans till he stands in his t-shirt and boxer shorts.

(Pidge tactfully avoids eying his butt since the shorts are rather flattering.)

They slip under the covers. Lance’s body is a warm presence beside her, but she resists its pull on her. She’s already asked too much of him to just keep her company and spend the night with her.

(Never mind that she just kind of wants him to hold her.)

She faces the wall beside the bed with her back to him and tugs the blankets up to her chin.

She regrets it immediately when the sensation of something nearly covering her face has her gasping and her heart racing. She pushes the blanket down to her waist and sags, staring sullenly at the wall while she catches her breath.

“Pidge?” Lance says, the bedsprings creaking as he shifts. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she lies. “I��m fine.”

“If you’re sure…” When she doesn’t respond, he murmurs, “Good night, Pidge.”

Pidge bites her lip before replying, “‘Night, Lance.”

Sleep waits beyond her grasp, her mind buzzing with nothing but the day’s events to occupy it. She pinches her eyes shut and tries to force her recollection away from Ezor’s simper and Zethrid’s glower, tries not to think of dirt filling her eyes and ears and nose, tries not to recall how damn helpless she was, and how maybe it all could’ve been avoided if she wasn’t in such a hurry and surveyed the property a little longer, and how Lance could’ve been killed as easily as he rescued her, and how she almost died after finding out her brother escaped and—

“Pidge,” Lance’s voice, deep and husky in a way that might fill her with heat in any other circumstance, cuts into her thoughts, “you’re thinking too loud.”

Pidge freezes and exhales till there's no air left in her lungs (sort of). With her heart in her throat, she rolls over...and finds Lance already facing her, his eyes shining in the dark.

She reaches for him at the same time as he does her, her arms winding around his waist while his come around her back and pull her close till she can bury her face in his chest. She breathes shakily, careful not to press her nose too far, but she can still smell the faint but distinct scent of his spicy body wash.

His arms holding her firmly, his chest rising and falling so steadily, are the perfect comfort, so the dam she's built up all day bursts when the first broken sob escapes her.

***

Lance clutches Pidge as she cries, his shirt muffling her voice. His heart weighs heavily, useless as he ever was, but he runs a hand down her back and his fingers through her hair, careful not to touch the goose egg at the back of her head.

Her fingers grasp at the back of his t-shirt while tears and probably snot soak into the front. Lance doesn't care about the mess; he just wants Pidge to get better.

But better how? How does he erase what happened, turn back time so he can find her quicker or warn her that they'll find nothing in that damn art studio?

He almost lost Pidge - before she could even reunite with her missing brother! - and for nothing.

Lance reins in his rapidly rising anger and focuses on his partner sobbing in his arms. She needs to calm down - she's started hyperventilating, heaving great gasps of air, he realizes with alarm - so he urges her to sit up.

But he doesn't let her go; instead he pulls her halfway into his lap and starts talking.

"You're safe now, Pidge," he murmurs into her ear. "You'll rest, and you'll heal, and if you still want to go on missions"—the very thought of them separating on one again fills him with a heart-stopping fear—"I won't let anything like this happen to you again."

"Th-they were going t-to—they would've kill—b-buried me alive," Pidge whimpers, each word rising and lowering in pitch with her hysteria.

"I-I know," Lance tells her as a lump sticks in his own throat. He swallows around it, licking his lips before brushing them against her temple. "I-it was your worst mission, and we all have bad ones but never—never that bad."

Pidge sniffles. "W-when was y-your worst?" she wonders.

This one, is Lance's immediate thought, never mind that the only injury he sustained is an ugly bruise that'll heal within a week, but Pidge won't want to hear that. So he rubs her arm and sighs before admitting, "It was my first one."

Pidge's breathing is steadier now, so he lies down and drags her with him. She snuggles into his chest - he pretends not to notice her pushing the blankets away from her face - and says, "O-oh? W-what happened?"

"Really?" Lance pulls away slightly to look at her tear-streaked face. "You don't know? You mean you didn't read about my history before Allura pretty much strong-armed me into partnering with you?"

To his immense satisfaction, Pidge snorts. "I did, but it's not like the reports are the same as your recollection."

Lance, unsure he wants to know the answer, wonders, "What does the report for it say?"

"That you...rushed to take the shot without Shiro's approval," Pidge explains haltingly yet almost clinically. "The target got away, and in the pursuit he was injured. Allura recommended you be taken out of the field and train for dispatch instead, but Shiro fought for you to be given another chance."

That old, familiar shame drops into his gut, but Lance chuckles and says, "That's pretty accurate."

"Anything you wanted to add then?" Pidge asks.

"Yeah, I do." This time when he runs a hand down her back, he's not sure if it's to soothe her or brace himself. "I was doing my field training with Shiro, and even before I met him the guy was practically my hero."

"Understandable," Pidge says with a note of amusement.

"But I also knew I wasn't as good as Keith," Lance continues. "He'd already been on a few missions with Shiro, and I wanted to prove that I was better than him, so I ignored one of Shiro's orders and he ended up paying for it. We were just lucky we didn't get caught."

"So you think it was your fault Shiro got hurt and your target escaped?"

"Pidge, I know it was my fault," Lance insists with a sigh. "You said it's even in the official report."

"I guess I can't argue with that," she concedes, "but"—she pulls back, her fingers tangling in his hair as she tugs his head down to look him in the eye—"you know what happened to me was definitely not your fault, right?" Her gaze is startling in its intensity, and from this close he can see every shadowed curve and edge on her face.

Lance's breath catches; it's an awfully inappropriate time to be thinking of kissing her, but Pidge's reassurance means everything to him.

Though it does little to dispel his fears.

"Pidge..." He cups her cheeks, smoothing one of the bandages and wiping away the last of her tears. "I can think of a thousand and one ways I could've kept that from happening to you."

"Oh, well, I can think of maybe five or six," Pidge scoffs, "and I'm a genius, so you're wrong."

"Five or six are still too—"

"Lance," Pidge cuts him off with her hand resting on his jaw, "did you tie me up?"

"No, but—"

"Did you waterboard me?"

Shock grips him, his eyes flying wide. "Wait, they—"

"Did you crack a whip or pick up a shovel?"

"No." Lance grits his teeth and blinks away tears before burying his face - hiding it - in Pidge's hair, loose strands tickling his nose. "You have no idea how scared I was when I couldn't hear you anymore, Pidge." He fights to keep his breathing steady. "It was even worse than when I heard you scream."

"God, Lance..." Pidge's fingers trail through his hair, her breath warm and uneven against his neck. "You just—you have no idea how relieved I was to see you. You were okay, and you dug me out, and you haven't left me since, a-and—" Her voice wavers as she sighs. "I chose you over any other hitman at the firm, so stop blaming yourself, you—you foolish, beautiful goofball."

Lance's eyes widen, and when he leans his head back, Pidge avoids his gaze. "Did you just call me—"

"Shut up."

"—a goofball?"

Pidge snorts before she outright giggles, muffling the sound in the crook of her arm. And Lance, desperate to commit it all to memory, smiles while a heat fills his chest.

"Wait," he says, something Pidge mentioned sticking in his mind, "didn't you say that Allura assigned you to me?"

Pidge's eyes shoot open, and if Lance had to guess she must not have meant to let that slip. "I, well, that's technically true, but I...made my own recommendation."

"And you chose me over a veteran like Shiro or a standout like Keith?"

"Shiro was on the brink of retirement," Pidge explains, "and he's always treated me like a kid, so he was the last guy I'd want with me in the field while I'm learning and looking for Matt. And Keith has impressive stats, but he works better without a partner or trainee to keep track of." She tucks her hands into his chest, staring at her open palms. "You've been...more patient with me than I sometimes deserve, you taught me how to shoot straight—"

"Your aim was pretty bad when you started out."

"—you're fun to be around between missions and during long ones, and even when I was still a dispatcher I...tolerated you."

"Only tolerated?" Lance scoffs and rolls his eyes, but he's amused despite her word choice, happy to soak in her praise. "After all we've been through together?"

Pidge laughs. "Lance, that was over a year ago," she says. "I feel a little more strongly about you than just toleration now."

He's not sure why - not when she damns him with faint praise - but something in her tone sends warmth rushing to his face. He rests his forehead against hers and clutches her hands to his chest, saying, "Well, I'm flattered you thought so highly of me."

One of Pidge's hands escapes his grasp to caress his cheek, forcing him to repress a shiver. "Maybe someone else could've saved me as well as you did today," she murmurs, her gaze capturing his, "but you're the one I needed with me tonight."

"I'll be with you whenever you need me, Pidge," Lance swears, "and even when you don't, so long as you want me there." His heart pounds away against his ribs with the solemnity of his promise, and he wonders if Pidge can feel its strength under her hand.

"I'm with you too," she says.

Pidge surprises him when she slides closer and brushes his lips with hers, a kiss soft and tender as a whisper. "Thank you, Lance," she breathes. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

A smile pushes at his lips, and he can even feel the curve of her own against them. "Probably outmatch Keith."

Pidge hums. "I...understand the sentiment, but I think today proved that's not it."

"Then next time you save my life, and we'll call it even. Deal?"

"Deal," Pidge says with a soft laugh. "I forbid you from dying before you meet my brother anyway."

Warmth floods him, and he feels oh so ridiculously fond. "Oh, really?" Lance raises an eyebrow. "Would you fight an angel of death for me?"

"In a heartbeat," Pidge admits without hesitation and without shame, her tone fierce...though the yawn stretching her face ruins the effect.

Lance chuckles, though the exhaustion of the day tugs at him, urging him to sleep, too. "You ready to sleep for real?" he wonders. "And at a reasonable time?"

Pidge snorts then says, "I think so." She wraps her arms around his waist and presses her cheek to his chest right over his heart. "Just don't let me go."

"Never," Lance promises, because the least he can do tonight is keep Pidge secure in sleep. So his arms tighten around her, holding her close with one hand clutching her shoulder and the other carding through her hair.

(In the morning they'll worry about reporting to Allura and Pidge's invisible, long-term injuries, but for now they'll dream with the knowledge that someone who loves them and wants them safe sleeps in their arms.)

*** End ***

#plance #pidgance #lidge #flirtyrobot #bet you thought you'd seen the last of me #voltron #reem writes fic #seriously though heed the warnings #probably add the ao3 link when i reblog #although it's already up if you'd rather read it there

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