#calina agrees

[punchdrunkdoc]

Part 4, Chapter 19

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness? Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 4 parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics

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PART 4

Chapter 19

Matt shifted his weight in the chair, eager to stand up and stretch his legs after spending most of the past 16 hours sitting on his ass.

Eight hours in a cramped economy seat to London; 6-hours in a hard plastic chair in Heathrow awaiting his connection; another two-hour flight to Geneva, then a 30-minute cab ride north of the city. After all that travelling he was stiff, jet-lagged, exhausted, and running 48 hours behind Calina. 

But he’d almost caught up to her now. He’d made it to Switzerland. He’d made it to the UN compound. And he’d made it inside. 

That last step had always been the main obstacle in his plan to find Calina - although calling it a plan was massively overstating things. 

“You’re flying halfway around the world on a wing and a prayer,” Foggy had said while dropping him off at JFK. “And I know you like to think you’re charming and can smooth talk your way into anywhere, but this is the UN, man. The United Nations.”

“I’ll figure something out.”

“Please tell me ‘figuring something out’ doesn’t involve stowing your suit in your carry-on and sneaking onto the base as Daredevil.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you that.”

“Matt!”

“I’m kidding, Fog. It’ll be fine. And if it doesn’t work out, at least I’ll have tried.”

“Well, as grand romantic gestures go, I can’t fault you on this one, buddy.”

“It’s not a gesture. I’m just done being passive when it comes to Calina - I can’t wait around here again for her to come to me.”

Despite ample time - 16 hours of it, in fact - sitting on his ass with nothing else to do, Matt never did figure out how he was going to get admitted to the Widow’s base. So he was surprised and immensely grateful when fortune decided to smile on him for once in his life. 

He’d been in the middle of a tense standoff with the heavily armed soldier at the checkpoint leading into the base, when Katya had driven past. After spluttering out a shocked greeting, she’d made some calls and gotten him escorted to this room in the building adjacent to the Widow’s barracks. 

Which meant he was close, so close, to where Calina was. But he apparently needed to go through some vetting process first with the owner of this office.

The door behind Matt opened, and a brusque female voice called out, “Mr. Murdock?”  

Matt got to his feet, shifting his cane to his left hand and holding out his right. “Yes. Dr Gossard, I take it?”

There was a moment of hesitation. Then he felt the older woman take his proffered hand. “That’s right. It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Murdock.”

“Call me Matthew, please.”

“Matthew,” she agreed, settling into her chair behind the large desk. 

“You said ‘finally meet’,” Matt commented, sitting back down. 

“Yes. Calina has talked about you. Although, I find it interesting that she never mentioned you were visually impaired. Why do you think that is?”

Matt had no idea. But the question told him one thing at least. “You’re Calina’s therapist.”

“Guilty as charged.”

Matt adjusted his glasses, suddenly confronted with the possibility that this woman knew a hell of a lot more about him than he was comfortable with. “So you and Calina have spoken about me.”

“Actually for the first five years, she did everything in her power to avoid speaking of you. But over the past couple of months, yes, we’ve talked about you. It’s my professional opinion that you’re integral to her recovery. Which is why I have to ask you - what exactly happened between you and Calina earlier this week?”

Matt responded with a closed-lipped smile and a shake of his head. “I don’t think I’m comfortable sharing that without Calina’s permission.”

He sensed the doctor studying him for a few moments, her pen tapping against her lip as she did so. “That’s a good answer.”

“I wasn’t aware this was a test.”

“No? Why do you seem so nervous then?”

Matt stopped fidgeting with his cane, and consciously relaxed his shoulders. 

Dr Gossard just laughed at his efforts. “You look almost as uncomfortable in that chair as Calina does. I wonder if it’s profession or character that’s to blame.”

“Meaning?”

“You’re a defence attorney correct?”

“Yes.”

“Then I imagine you’re the one used to asking the questions, to steering the conversation. Have you ever been in therapy?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no.” 

“Hmmm, that makes me wonder if it’s character instead, then. Do you have secrets you’d rather people didn’t pry into, Mr. Murdock?”

Matt raised his eyebrows. “Did you ever consider there was a third option? That maybe I’m a foreign national who sought unauthorised entry to a UN paramilitary base, and I’m worried about being deported?”

“Something tells me you don’t worry yourself too much over matters like that.”

Matt shrugged. “I’m a really good lawyer.”

“Be that as it may, I have to commend you for making this trip. I think Calina will be pleasantly surprised.”

Matt tried not to exhale in relief. It was the first hint that the doctor was actually going to let him see Calina. All of her probing questions and taunts up until now had felt like the prelude to being thrown off the base, or arrested - or both. 

“She needs someone with a bit of backbone,” the doctor continued. “Someone who won’t let her…wallow…in her more negative thoughts, or run away when things get difficult. But she also needs someone who can be patient with her. Can you be patient, Matthew?”

He was back to ‘Matthew’. He took that as another positive sign. “I can be whatever she needs.”

“Another good answer.”

“Well, since I’m doing so well, can you answer a question of mine?” Matt asked, trying to keep the snark out of his voice.

“If it’s permissible within the bounds of doctor-patient confidentiality, yes.”

“How is Calina? She was upset the last time I spoke to her.”

Gossard sighed, sounding genuinely concerned. “She’s still upset. We both agreed that she needed a little space from the other people on base, so her and Nika are staying down by the lake for a couple of days.”

“Is Nika another Widow?”

Gossard laughed again. “In a manner of speaking.”

Matt frowned at the strange answer, but had a more important issue to raise. “So where does that leave me? Will you allow me to speak with her?”

Gossard’s chair creaked as she leaned back and swivelled it side to side. “There are people higher in the chain of command than me who aren’t happy with your presence here, and would answer ‘no’ to that question. But as I explained to them, this is the Widows’ home. They’re not conscripted soldiers on a base. They’re women who stepped up and volunteered to help when the world went FUBAR. They’re entitled to have visitors in their home. The issue just never came up before.” 

“Calina’s always led the way,” Matt commented, with a note of pride in his voice. 

“She has. And she doesn’t give herself enough credit for that.”

“I know. But I do.” Matt had always thought of her as unbelievably brave. 

“I believe you. It’s one of the reasons I’m going to allow you to stay here, with Calina.”

Matt sat upright, not expecting that. “Really?”

“There are some conditions,” Gossard warned. “You don’t get free run of the place. Katya will escort you to Calina’s room to pick up some more clothes for her. She will then escort you directly to the chalet by the lake, and you will remain there for the remainder of your stay - which is to be no more than 5 days.”

Matt got to his feet and held out his hand again. “That’s more than generous. I appreciate it, Dr. Gossard.”

She grasped his hand in hers. “Don’t make me regret it.”

With that barely-veiled threat, he was dismissed. Katya was waiting for him outside, leaning against the wall of the corridor, hands shoved in her pockets. When she spotted him, she straightened up and took his arm, steering him towards the exit and outside into the fresh wintery air. “It’s just until we’re away from other people,” she whispered, indicating her hold on him.

“How many people here know about my…?” 

“Secret abilities?” she guessed. “Just the Widows.”

“Not Gossard?” The way she’d spoken about secrets had made Matt wonder. 

“No,” Katya laughed. “She may seem omniscient, but it’s just an act.”

She tapped a number onto a keypad and led Matt inside another building. This one was quieter, the hallway empty. But Matt could hear murmured conversations and the sounds of cutlery scraping against plates from a large room off to his left.

Katya released his arm. “This is home,” she said. “Calina’s room is just down here.”

His first impression of Calina’s room was that it was depressingly empty. 

As Katya opened a small closet and grabbed some clothing, Matt took in the space. There was a single bed pushed up against the window; a desk next to the door; a tiny en suite bathroom with just enough room for a shower, sink and toilet…and that was about it. It reminded him of his dorm room in college - functional but impersonal. 

And so empty. 

Matt ran his fingers along the shelf over the desk, finding nothing but a single book and a small framed photograph. He traced the spine of the book and flipped through it, smiling sadly when he realised it was the copy of Jekyll and Hyde he’d once gifted her. But where were her other books? Where was the small collection she’d started in New York? Why wasn’t every spare inch of space taken up by the novels and scientific texts and volumes of poetry she’d surely amassed over the past five years?

He replaced the book and lifted the frame next. “What’s this photo of?”

“Hmmm? Oh, it’s Calina holding a baby. The mom - Karen, I think she’s called - gave it to her as a Christmas present last year. It’s a nice picture.”

His fingers glided over the glass front, as if he could discern the image beneath just through touch. The thought of Calina with a baby in his arms made his heart ache in a way he didn’t want to think about…

He quickly replaced the photo and resumed his exploration of Calina’s life. There was a dressing gown draped over the end of the bed. He rubbed the material between his fingers, frowning at the feel of simple cotton, when he knew how much Calina loved to wrap her skin in silks and cashmeres and other sumptuous fabrics.

A target hung on the back of the door, a throwing knife sticking out of it. Matt touched the handle, imagining the whistle as it flew across the room, the thump as it sank into the wood. Was that how Calina occupied her time? Instead of reading, she threw knives?

His foot hit something soft as he turned away from the door. He bent down and ran his hands over a fleece-lined…dog bed? A chew toy lay abandoned in the middle of the bed, the rubber ring still slightly damp with saliva…

And Gossard’s laugh suddenly made sense. “Nika’s a dog.” 

Calina had a dog. 

Suddenly the small, barren room seemed slightly less depressing. The lack of books, the lack of comforts…it was all slightly more bearable. 

Because she had a dog. 

“Well, yeah,” Katya replied, zipping up the closure on the bag. “The two of them are attached at the hip. You should have seen how crazy Nika went the other day when Calina returned home.”

Home. 

This was Calina’s home. And while there was barely anything homely about it, it was her home, nonetheless. Her sisters were here. Her dog was here. Her work was here.

Her life was here. 

And he’d gotten angry at her for wanting to return to it. For daring to leave him in New York. Matt hung his head, still turning the toy over in his hands. Jesus, he was an asshole sometimes. 

Would she even want him here, after the way he’d behaved? 

Was coming here the right thing? Would she be happy to see him, or would it just upset her again?

The questions plagued him as he followed Katya outside once more. His footsteps grew heavy as they trekked across a clearing and along a path through the woods. And the closer he got to Calina, the more apprehensive he became.

“I’ll let you go the rest of the way on your own,” Katya said, startling Matt out of his introspection. “I assume you can tell which way to go?”

Matt nodded. He’d picked up the scent of the lake a couple of minutes ago, as well as the sounds of footsteps on pebbles, and a dog woofing happily.

“Good.” Katya turned to leave, but hesitated for a moment. “I’m glad you’re here,” she finally said.

“Really?” Matt replied, not feeling particularly glad of it himself. 

“Yes. We haven’t had much luck persuading Calina that she’s the same person we love and care about. She seems to think she’s become this…irredeemable, cowardly, crazy woman.”

Matt thought back to the other night. To Calina’s words. 

‘You should be angry, or something. Disappointed.’

‘I’m a complete mess.’

‘You have a lot more faith in me that I do in myself.”

It broke his heart that she thought so little of herself, when she was the bravest, most amazing woman he’d ever met. 

And if nothing else came out of this ‘grand gesture’, convincing her of that would be worth the whole damn endeavour.  

——— 

Calina threw the stick as far as she could, and Nika took off, loping along the water’s edge to retrieve it. One of her back paws landed in the water, and she hopped away on three legs, shaking off the moisture. 

Calina smiled. Her dog did not like to get wet. In fact, this was the closest she’d gotten to the lake since they’d been out here. 

Calina, on the other hand, loved it. Not getting wet, per se - it was far too cold for that - but the tranquility of the lake, with the mountains looming in the distance, and the blue sky overhead…it was all so peaceful.

Exactly what she needed after her trip to New York. And after her fight with Matt. 

Although calling it a fight was overstating things. She’d yelled and ranted and shoved him around, and he’d just…stood there and taken it. She’d insulted him, screamed lies at him, and he’d held onto her, desperate to make her stay. 

She winced as her words rang in her head - as they’d been doing pretty much on a loop for the last two days. 

God, she’d been so cruel to him. 

The anger had overtaken her so quickly, so completely, until she’d felt like she was watching herself from afar, spewing hate and falsehoods, not recognising the sneer on her face or the venom in her voice. 

And it wasn’t hard to pinpoint the trigger - her rage usually bled from fear. 

She’d let herself imagine the pain of losing Matt again - of going through that grief again, after giving her heart to him a second time - and it had terrified her. Anger had followed, because it was a much easier emotion to deal with, even when it ended up hurting the people she loved. 

Calina sighed and kicked at a pebble as she walked along the shoreline, wishing she had the courage to call Matt. To explain it all to him and apologise again. The frantic phone call to Karen that he’d intercepted - the one she’d made after the rage had worn off, and shame and regret had flooded in - hadn't been enough. She needed to talk to him. 

But she was hiding away here instead, like the weak, pathetic chicken-shit coward that she was. 

Nika barked, the sound jolting Calina out of her self-flagellation. It wasn’t her playful bark - it was the one that alerted to danger. 

Calina grabbed the gun from her holster and spun around, taking aim at…Matt?

———

Matt dropped their bags and held up his hands. “Are you still that mad at me, sweetheart?”

“Matt?” Calina answered. Her voice was barely a whisper carried to him on the pine-scented air, but he could detect a multitude of emotions in that single syllable. There was plenty of shock. A dash of fear. And what he prayed was hope.

Her dog barked again, a series of short, sharp noises that screeched against his ears. The sound seemed to shake Calina out of her stunned inertia. She holstered her weapon, and shifted on her feet.

Matt sensed the tension in her muscles. He could hear her heart racing, and the sound of the rocks beneath her boots as she shifted her stance.

“Don’t run. Please don’t run.” Matt whispered the plea under his breath, begging her not to give in to her fear.

But she did run. 

Straight towards him. 

She flew across the pebbled shore, her long legs eating up the distance between them in seconds. Matt braced himself just in time to catch her as she launched herself in to his arms. He clamped her firmly against him, holding her off the ground. She held on just as tightly. “You’re here,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his neck as she spoke. “You’re really here.”

“I’m here.”

Nika bounded around them, barking and growling. Calina slid back to her feet and called out to her companion. “Ami, Nika. Ami.”

The dog calmed down immediately, responding to the command. Matt smiled, recognising the word for ‘friend’. “Your dog speaks French?”

“Well she did grow up in Switzerland.”

Matt laughed, all of his earlier trepidation forgotten - things couldn’t be so broken between them if Calina’s first reaction was to run into his arms. Well, her first reaction had been to pull a gun, but he was choosing to see that as a survival instinct and not a bad omen. 

Matt crouched down, offering his hand to the dog. A wet nose nudged him as she sniffed and familiarised herself with his scent. He ran his fingers through her thick coat, and scratched behind her ears. “What breed of dog is she?”

“Half-husky, half-german shepherd. All trouble.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about her in New York?”

“I, uh, tried to. That morning. I was going to tell you that I needed to come back here, to see to Nika and…other things, but then…”

“But then I completely overreacted,” Matt finished, rising back up and taking her hand in his. He brought it to his lips, and pressed an apology to her skin. “I’m sorry. I should have let you explain—”

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry,” she replied. “God, the things I said, Matt, I didn’t mean any of it—”

“Hey,” he said, kissing the back of her hand again. “I know. I know it was just the anger speaking. Can we please just forget that morning ever happened? Can we start over?”

“I want to,” Calina whispered. “I just don’t know if I can. You’ve seen what I’m like now—”

“I have. I’ve seen you fall to pieces, and I’ve seen you panic. You’ve ran from me, and you’ve lashed out at me, and you’ve tried to hurt me, but I’m still here, Calina. I’m still in this.” He took her other hand, and held them both firmly in his. “And I want it to work. I want us to work. I want us to get to know each other again. I want to learn about your new life, and find my place in it. The only thing that matters is if you want that too. Do you? Do you want to be with me?”

She swallowed sharply, and Matt held his breath, waiting for her response. “Yes," she said. "Yes, I- I want to be with you, Matt. Even though it scares me to death, I want to be with you.”

“It scares me too, sweetheart. It always has. But it will be worth it, I swear. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you never regret it.”

Calina took a step closer, and squeezed his hands. “And I’ll do the same for you.”

Matt closed his eyes, releasing the tension he’d been carrying for days. He tipped his head forward to rest against hers and smiled. They stood like that for a long moment, hands clasped, heads bowed, with the heat of the setting sun sinking down towards the mountains behind them…and it almost felt to Matt like they were exchanging vows. 

All the rest - the issues they still had to face, and all the practicalities they had to work out - all of it felt irrelevant in that moment as they pledged themselves to each other. 

Matt captured her lips with his, sealing his commitment with a kiss.

————–

Shout-out to Nora Robert's The Search for the 'Ami' line. I love that book and couldn't resist!

Chapter 20

We're going to be spending the next few chapters in Geneva. It's vacation time, baby! There'll be lots of talking and learning about each other. Lots of sex, and lots of mushy stuff. Stay tuned!

Tag list: @hollandorks @stilldreaming666 @sio-ina-bottle @tearoseart-blog @acharliecoxedfan @freckledbabyyy @chezagnes, @ricearoni84 @brittbratt4567

If you’d like to be added - let me know!

[nityarawal]

Rona- Could you please keep working on Dr. Kazi to write a letter now?

Did you find a Dr who can do the AI challenge for court today? Whose quickest at problem solving dissolutions?

IEHP psych sounds like a scam on street people. 

They are mass murdering us in apartheid! Courts kill 1000 per court annually!

Did Dr. Kazi review Dr. Cash's reports and connect?

Dr. Cash is my Forensic psychologist working pro-bono to clean up IEHP fraud. He wrote Psychology for Dummies! 

Can you make sure clerk didn't lie about canceling her rancid creepy court Dr's appointment? I don't agree with crap warfare anymore.

Care. 

Not court.

Dr. Kazi- 

We needs Tick Bight Report From Dr. BROWNING and

Dr. Nadia at Dr Queresheri's 

See Complaints about her Nurse Darlene Violating hippa rights. 

They both left. Darlene is being prosecuted for allowing her boytoy to rape daughter Melody Gray- and now we worry she stole her daughter- in foul play for him. She tried to hurt Melody with RO but Judge is on our side and DA has been asked to restrain iehp trolls.

Handyman Dennis Sketchly & Alex Dustin Grover- militia planted Tick in bed in December. No pets. It was a nazi trick and I've been slummed by Idyllwild Realty & militia 20+ times. I'm a realtor. I can find a nice home. Can you keep court Rats away though. I'm camping because of budget- but also to avoid militia court trolls. So sick of them. I call it fast now when I spot that bs!

X and my brother previously smeared me to the community about private personal medicine choices etc. 

Not interested in selling courts more data. 

We need refunds for 18 months filmed & caged!

Many court hookers abused me for them. 

Darin David Joye broke heart bullying me into Plea bargains for "job," with Abi Odam- my mediator coach I hired for 6 months!

Many hired to seduce/rape/sell etc. 

We think I have lymes, spirochetes, and cyst in brain- possibly skin/female cancers. Extreme fungus growth from dirty conditions at court and being a state refugee tortured on Apartheid stipend. 

It doesn't cover rent! 

Financial fraud from x and courts, blue Shield insurance- has made it hard to see as many naturopaths as I would like but I have extensive training and am a researcher/journalist. I'd like an honorary doctorate for civil service I've done globally on this Apartheid resolution. Noble peace prize? 

NEED SPIROCHETE REPORT

FROM DENTIST DR. CAREY O' REILLY IN ENCINITAS - He's leading expert and posted many videos of our Mouths gingivitis bacteria on YouTube. 

He was mortified my x brought disease home too.

He treats kids too.

Advanced Dermatology- 2 reports/labs

Dentist - 

Riverside Healthcare- labs

Dr. Keane fired

Dr. Singh charged with attempted murder on Probate fraud with thousands of attys/judges/clerks/scams.

I re-endacted probate. I'm not dead. 

I sent Dr Murphys gay Forensic psychologist report with Ashby Clark Sorrensons help- before he attempted my life with Grant Funk & X team with ROs.

Murphy says I'm a genius with a .001% highest vocabulary & IQ. He said courts were too dumb to understand my family of Geniuses. 

Dr. CASH - FORENSIC PSYCHOLOGIST

wrote Psychology For Dummies

Need Metropolitan Hospital report 

For Dmv.org registration for Judge Hodges at Traffic courts. His clerks had me raped many times in 5 years and robbed with Psyche abuse in Judge Judith Clark's murderous courts.

I won and need refunds on wrongful rental car arrest. I proved competency once again. Courts are literally ill with doubt. Murdering is a gruesome job- they suffer- and we don't care. 

Charge them please. 

I was also hospitalized and 5150'd by x to Las Calinas on a murder attempt. I had a dire allergic reaction when an officer dosed me with Depakote and said it was vitamin d. I Begged to go to the hospital. 

Monday they attempted to force me to die on 12 drugs in Psyche court- no call out under Mathew Robert's for Lori Clark Viviano's bribes in public defense rapes.

I appealed and won medical freedom and competency. 

I was hospitalised in Riverside too by psychologist boss Carmel Benson on bribes- raped from work for months- then neighbor murdered!): I always prove competent immediately and don't appreciate my bosses selling me on black market. 

Mary Schmitz and Joan did this at their animal Rescues and I was beat up from work over expired car registration. 

We all know SSI doesn't cover housing or food! 

How to pay for government extortion as a refugee camping? 

Cop Rape is imminent daily. Scary! 

Need Calm And Ground Julie Steiger reports and receipts for 11 months of out of pocket court ordered therapy. She quit early on bribes with CPS & attys. Shes involved in foul play at Idyllwild arts now caging children that didn't appreciate 12+ teachers molesting them! Need $5k + damages in refunds!

I was caged at RPDC shortly after she quit. I got x rays of broken ribs there and Covid2. Please submit data. 

I paid for a year of therapy with Blue Shield Dr Amy Bell. She witnessed violence and saw me immediately after. So did Rebecca Stewart at my Leucadia acupuncturist.

Sunil and I saw several couples therapists. His atty Dr. Alan Silverman was referred by his Mistress paralegal- his x neonazi converted Jewish whore. She doubled on bribes at CPS and called herself a court officer after 7 years of winning her custodial real estate battle with Sunils next atty Jeff Fritz- and my real estate- free help- at my expense with kids for years! These peeps mixed my family! Jeff retired- hired Lori Clark Viviano. She arranged hit and run. Kids and I had to see chiropractors for years in Encinitas, Carmel valley and Idyllwild. Then they attacked my cars, homes & kids. Dr. Alan Silverman teaches Dr Gardner grooming yo pedophiles with Sunil's other lover Daniel Smachtenberger from physics in college. Daniel has lymes and probably gave early spirochetes when Sunil was cheating and stashing cash as UK spy. 

I worked for months with Therapist Tima Ivanova- she quit - conflict of interest with a friend who investigated murder of my property manager. 

I had one other awful iehp therapist that would multitask on the phone and barely heard me. It was hurtful. T Mobile also didn't work at most homes so it's a major hassle to waste time on bad iehp Drs!

I did 18 months of State therapy incarcerated too. I hated it. A Dr. would ask a question & walk away. It was 1-5 minutes of terrorism generally. 

Close that 3rd world detention slavery center! 

I never met a good Dr there and met thousands of worst psychiatrists & a plethora of rushed ignorant Dr's.

Dr. Kazi also found out that I'm allergic to tomatoes & peanuts as a result of ww3 hostage for terrorism. When is the president defending Persian Americans slaughtered in Apartheid by a million Jewish attys & neo nazi defense team? 

Need professional Mammogram order 

Get last ones- Dr Natalya did an awful breast exam! Need real obgyn!

Encinitas Dr said fibrocystic breasts.

Hospitals wouldn't let me have vitamin d or vegetarian diets for 6-9 months in Christian terrorism.

Need to go over 9 labs w/ Dr Kazi next week!

Scripps La Jolla ICU report from 2017 Mark Milton beating with victim reports filed for DA. 

Head injury is best if I practice my own medicine. Courts failed in covid 1,2 &3 Germ warfare. They're filthy! 

Any professional would close down with health department!

Judges have eye sight & contract/real estate training issues. They didn't pass bar? Perhaps!

I need a dissolution. Not another attempt on my life! Dr's steal from my work and family time. I know I'm entertaining. I've never met an iehp Dr or County service that can help heal practical health issues. I have 20+ hairballs & bio matter. I know how to take care of myself as a yogini, mom & educator journalist. We feel sorry for awfully sick court people- but they stole and hurt us in their Kinks. They don't deserve to keep Job's and we need Sanctions on all services rendered plus refunds on every single Offenders license. Thousands took bribes. Mother Nature wants family united.

Israel is just another gaslighting drama- an attack on family/sacred. We're not amused- nor impressed. Our kids need to live in their homes safe. We don't want government raping our families in schools, Apartheid nor courts. They failed my family, Israel, Lahaina and Pres wrote an Iran check to the wrong person. 7 billion go to Persian Americans too. Annually. Tell Jewish Doctors & lawyers to soul search and make reparations for millions of Slaves in America. It's a gross civil emergency what our defense team has done.

They are mass murdering.

Let me know if you can do a conclusive disclosure from all these Dr's. Iehp won't help. None of their Dr's are credited. Medical? Send me your favorite Dr's info only on referrals. I'm very prudent for myself and my sisterhood. Our lives were attempted- so we whistleblow- to stop abuse for our Dr's, patients, students, teachers and mothers. I speak on behalf of 2b mothers globally who demand end of Apartheid. 

We need 50/50 defenses/dissolution and defend rapists immediately with vasectomies and maximum charges. This is sick a rape has to be reported over 20 years in USA. Not one woman nor child ever thought psychiatrist drug induced rape was good for them or anyone's Psyche. How does it make you feel? 24 officer rapes. Police reports at Metropolitan Hospital. 

You can get kids files from the same Dentist, and Christine Wood is there Dr. At El Camino pediatrics. Dr. Eric eisen felt Dr's Clogged their organs with drug warfare & they bloated sick in pictures! You're not meant to take pharmaceuticals for more than 30 days but court Dr's constantly murder & OD. Mom said kids had nightmares so Sunil rufid them. Did he rape them when they were under? His bf reccomends this kind of drugging/grooming/pedo is famous dad and they both consult on mommy murders/rapes in court. I need ROs from all these gross stalkers from x monk David Kaplan's circles! 

I saved myself several times. 

I will now too.

You need to gather ALL medical files! I saw 3 horrible medical dentists. I need my money so I can practice medicine as I was trained at best ayurvedic medical and psychological college in globe.

No one is selling me again. Please do your job so moms can do ours appropriately.

I also wrote all my sandiego Dr's for you on intake forms? Please get my MD Dr. Blaine's files and rest. Those were best Dr's prior to hospital bullying into iehp.

Jay Curatolo is PS promising to provide a DA victim report and fair speedy trial and dissolution. They've literally used 1000's of employees to extort everything we have. We're so done with these bastards! 

7 years is a lot of data!): 

Thank you!

Peace!

Merci!

Nitya Nella Azam Davigo Moezzi Huntley 

On Tue, Oct 10, 2023, 9:16 PM nitya rawal <nityahuntley@gmail.com> wrote:

Thank you for your help! I will leave state tomorrow & get my daughter-  until Dr can assure my safety from rapists. 

No, I didn't even eat. 

War is terrifying on one's family. ):

10/10/2023

Afternoon Songs 

Anjali- 10/10

We're All Crying 

For Israel

Crying For Anjali

Didn't You Get The

Memo

My Sacred 

Family

Almost Desecrated

Israel We Love You

Jews We Love You

But Why You Let Your

Neo-Nazi Attys 

Take Our Kids...

https://www.tumblr.com/nityarawal/730854352139517952/10102023-afternoon-songs-anjali

On Tue, Oct 10, 2023, 5:11 PM PDUC Team <team@palmdeserturgentcaremd.com> wrote:

Hi Nitya,

Attached are all the lab results we have received. Unfortunately, like I have mentioned earlier, his stand remains the same, the letter would be beyond our scope of determination. I do hope you were able to call the number I gave you. 

Please do not reply to this message, we are more than happy to accommodate any of your concerns over the phone. 

Cheers, 

Rona

7603405800

From: nitya rawal <nityahuntley@gmail.com>

Sent: Tuesday, October 10, 2023 4:29 PM

To: PDUC Team <team@palmdeserturgentcaremd.com>

Subject: Re: Referrals

 

Thanks! Could you send my blood labs too? Did you get my other emails for Dr. Kazi? How's his court letter coming?

Nitya 

On Tue, Oct 10, 2023, 3:28 PM PDUC Team <team@palmdeserturgentcaremd.com> wrote:

Hi Nitya, 

As we spoke about, attached are your referrals approved by IEHP. I opted not to include the psychiatry as you do not want anyone in Hemet. Below would be the details I have given to you: 

Psychiatry Walk-In Clinic for IEHP

(760) 674-7132

Address: 41990 Cook St., Suite F-2002, Palm Desert, CA 92211

Monday – Friday, 9am – 5pm

I understand that you do not want to use IEHP because of previous experiences but just for the sake of time, I would highly recommend for you to contact the above walk-in clinic while waiting Dr. Kazi's approval for the letter you are requesting so you will have options. 

Please do not reply to this message, we are more than happy to accommodate any of your concerns over the phone. 

Cheers, 

Rona

7603405800

[erigold13261]

Please tell us that Matvey is getting what he deserved. As in alone and miserable looking at his daughter being successful. (Once again, fuck people who beat their children. Everyone deserves a second chance but still. I have a bad feeling he didn’t change even if there were chances.)

I... don't think he has changed at all. I kinda WANT him to, just so I can use him more as a character in Tatiana's life because I like his design, but in all reality I do not see someone like Matvey ever changing even if given many chances, which he was.

So he is probably the same bitter asshole that hurt Tatiana and drove Anatoli away. Honestly, I can see Calina leaving him because of his controlling nature, and possibly she got pregnant again and did not want him to hurt this other child or possibly her once Anatoli left their lives.

I don't think he would be miserable though. If anything, he is probably happy to not have a family. I have this idea in my head that his family was extremely traditional, so once he got married he felt obliged to have a kid that he didn't want. And once Alyona died, he was just so angry and upset that he was "saddled" with Tatiana that he started changing and taking his anger out on her. The same anger that his father took out on him when he was young. (He was offered to let Tatiana stay with the rest of the Qwartz family but he took that as an insult and kept Tatiana out of principle instead of love).

And that abuse he had as a child is not an excuse to his actions, but an explanation. Matvey chose to continue the cycle of abuse that his parents placed on him. And instead of being like Neon's parents, who changed after losing their first kid (or at least were willing to change if Neon gave them a chance that he was obviously not obligated to give them), Matvey doubled down and probably got a lot worse.

He probably doesn't even know Tatiana is the same person as his son as I don't see him keeping up with news and also just flat out refusing to see his "son" as a woman, still deadnaming Tatiana and complaining about both his sons being miserable traitors to the family whenever he talks about Tatiana or Anatoli to any friends he might still have (probably also abusers who tell him he did nothing wrong and all the blame is on the rest of his family, only furthering their toxicity).

So yeah. Matvey is not going to become some nice guy or have a change of heart. I can see Tatiana and Anatoli meeting up at some point and maybe thinking of inviting their father over so they can talk and see if he changed. Or maybe at some huge get-together Neon suggests Tatiana invites her father as he is inviting his own parents and that maybe her father changed (which she would only agree to if she and Anatoli talked because even though Matvey didn't change, it looked like he did because he treated Anatoli better than Tatiana, but that was only because Anatoli was not trans, and it wasn't much better).

Well he didn't change, and I can see him making some incredibly asshole-y comments or causing a scene that gets Purl to try and fight him (Purl you are strong, but I'm sorry he is going to destroy you) which either has Tatiana or Joust step in to break up the fight/fight Matvey. Honestly, I would love it to be Joust because when they were younger Tatiana would fight Joust's dad for being abusive to him and this would be Joust's way of finally repaying Tatiana back (not that she ever wanted to be repayed, but Joust has always wanted to make it up to her for how awesome and supportive she was).

Okay, sorry! I am rambling now ideas I want to play with one day when I have time! Long story short! Matvey is not changing and is not miserable unfortunately. He has a successful business making specialized clocks/watches that help timekeepers stay grounded when messing with times, but also fixing old clocks and watches. Something that Tatiana and Anatoli were supposed to learn how to do, but neither wanted to carry on the family business (even though Anatoli kept his watch and passed it down to Cyril).

[steelandblood]

For whoever you want:

🪨 Someone gifts your OC a shiny rock. What do they do with it?

👎 Is there someone your OC can’t stand, despite them being on the same side or sharing basic values?

🌳 Would your OC survive for a week on their own in the wilderness?

Thank you so much for the ask💗 these are such great questions!

🪨 Someone gifts your OC a shiny rock. What do they do with it?

Mirwen would keep and cherish it forever. It's not like she cares about useless pretty things ( or at least she did a great job of convincing herself she doesn't) but she basically never received anything without being expected to do something in return. So someone just gifting her something, for no reason than that apparently they actually like her would legit make her cry.

👎 Is there someone your OC can’t stand, despite them being on the same side or sharing basic values?

Rauna does NOT like Firiende, while the others think she is really cool and so awesome. They both can raise people from the dead but Firiende's methods are far less conventional than Rauna's so she does not like or trust her on principle, even though she works for her and agrees that objectively she did nothing wrong.

🌳 Would your OC survive for a week on their own in the wilderness?

Has a pretty good chance of survival: Mirwen, Alysa, Adan

No way they will survive on their own: Calina, Thancur

Will survive but only thanks to magic: Rauna, Firiende

[toonmania25]

Harmony AU

A RML and MLP crossover

Kyla harmony is a panromatic happy-go-lucky Pegasus pony from equestria where she lives with twilight sparkle and the mane 6. Kyla plans to spread friendship and harmony around the world but is interrupt by a wicked unknown mare name calina crownheart who plans to take over equestria

She attacks the mane 6 and drains their magic

Twilight gives Kyla a mysterious amulet and tells her run to the portal to Camelot high. Calina noticed this and destroys the portal as soon as Kyla went and was taken to another world

Meanwhile in o-town Filbert has news that he is moving out of o-town to bollywood which made heffer and (mostly) rocko devastated. Rocko has severe anxiety about people might leave his life. Heffer calms that he'll never leave rocko side no matter what. But this interrupts when something crash lands on rocko's yard. Rocko and heffer looks to see Kyla in a coma rocko and heffer takes Kyla inside to wake her up. When she wakes, she was startled at first but rocko calms her down and asked her how did she crash land to o-town. Kyla says she doesn't remember but she wants to go home. Rocko and heffer agrees to help get their new friend back home.

[pencilwritesshiz47]

Amina and Time

 MGR Chapter Four

[Previous] [Next] [Masterpost]

TW: food

Princess Amina Hollan sighed, and leaned up against the palace wall. She had been waiting for her parents to exit their latest Royal Council meeting, so they could eat dinner together, but that had been two hours ago. And based on her knowledge of Calinian politics, she wasn't sure when they would leave.

But now the princess was getting hungry, so she decided to head off to the kitchen.

She grabbed her phone and turned on its light so she could see and started walking down the hallway. It was incredibly silent—you could hear a pin drop.

As she walked, she thought about what she had overheard.

The subject of the meetings had been the Xan Ruz attacks. The Council had gotten together the day after the attacks and were on their third day of discussing what to do. Due to the treaty that ended the War of Misconception, no country could send aid without a formal request of help from the country's leader. No such request had come from the kings, so they couldn't do anything there. But with the ominous message broadcasted on the alert a few days earlier, they couldn't exactly do nothing. Hence the debate.

She paused and turned left into the entrance to the East Wing. There, in behind a pair of fancy double doors, was the dining room. She pushed on them, and with a creak, they opened.

The girl pushed a button on the wall, and a few torches lit up, illuminating the dining room. It was quite majestic, with a long table that looked like it could seat over twenty people in the middle of the room. On it was a silver table liner, as well as some assorted tchotchkes. Decorating the walls were a few paintings, including one of Amina's favorites—a portrait of Lord Cal and Queen Inas, great heroes of the First Great War, who happened to be the creators of the island and the first elementists.

She walked towards the end of the room, where the kitchen was located. She kept the door open, so the light from the dining room made it just bright enough to see.

A few minutes later, she had finished making her dinner of choice—a porcelain plate filled with cheesy crackers, a china bowl with butterscotch ice cream, a crystal goblet of chocolate milk, and a single baby carrot. She set her meal on the prep counter, pulled up a stool, and started to eat.

Suddenly, she heard something. Footsteps, maybe? They sounded like footsteps, but the sounds were softer and seemed to be far apart, as if whoever was making them wasn't touching the ground all the way. Amina quickly shoved her dishes under the counter next to some silverware. It could be her mother, and she really wasn't looking for a speech on healthy eating tonight.

As the footsteps grew closer, she sucked in her breath. She knew it was probably just her parents or a member of the castle staff, but she still felt unsettled.

Then, there was a pause, and the figure entered the doorway.

It was a woman. She was tall, quite a bit taller than any human or sprite she had ever seen in her life, maybe seven or eight feet. Her hair was brown and curly, and it seemed to cascade down her back like a waterfall. Her eyes were a sparkling hazel, and there was a light dust of freckles against her skin. She was wearing a sparkling cyan dress that cut off at her knees and had a sweetheart neckline.

But what captured Amina's attention was the silver pendant around her neck. It was like a closed pocket watch, but there were odd symbols on it. It looked like a language, but if it was, it wasn't one from this planet.

The woman walked over to her, and she hopped off the stool, slowly moving backwards. Noticing this, the woman stopped.

"It's alright."

Her voice was like caramel. Smooth, yet rich. Beautiful and powerful. Something about her was... right. The woman wouldn't hurt her.

"Who are you?" the princess asked.

The woman smiled. "I am Time, and it's guardian."

Amina stared her. This was the legendary Time? The one who was the only one besides the gods who could control the events of the world? The one who created the concept of time? The leader of the time elementals?  It wasn't that this woman couldn't be Time, it was just that if she was, why would she be here? According to the stories of old, she didn't interfere with Izani affairs, so this was extremely unorthodox.

"Why are you here?"

Time smiled sadly. "Do you know what my job is?"

She thought for a second. "To guard time?"

The woman chuckled. "Yes, but not just that. My guarding of time results in Izan's safety and stability. So really, maintaining that is my job. Therefore, when dangerous things plague your world... I must find a way to stop them. And you are part of the solution."

Amina blinked. "Are... are you serious? You can't be serious! I'm nine, almost ten. I’m literally just a kid! There is no way I'm a part of any solution to whatever's going on."

"I knew you'd say that. But that doesn't matter. I know that you're a part of the team."

The princess furrowed her brow in confusion. "Team?"

Time nodded. "Team. You'll meet most of them soon."

Amina looked around but saw nothing but pots and pans. Time chuckled. "No, they aren't here. Now listen, this is very important. You will need to pack for a longer journey. Bring Inas' sword. At 22:27 exactly, you will follow Lady Elisabeth Melly as she sneaks out of the Council meeting. Make sure to stowaway on the boat."

Barley knowing what she was agreeing to, she nodded. "Pack, sword, stowaway at 22:27. Got it."

Time got up, and turned to leave, then stopped. "Oh, silly me. You'll need this," she said, handing the girl a box. "Do not open it until you see her. It will bring her out of her trance and briefly weaken her."

Amina started to ask who "her" was, but Time was gone.

She looked at the box in her hand. It was a bit bigger than her palm and carved into it's wooden surface were intricate patterns featuring two women. She felt like she knew them, but she couldn't put her finger on it...

But now wasn't the time to look at that. Now was the time to figure out what to do. According to Time, she had a part in something. And the only way to find out was to stowaway with Lady Elisabeth. She was destined for something. Not just for sitting around castles, but for something truly important and exciting.

She looked at the time, 21:42. Exactly 45 minutes.

She went to the pantry, looking for food she might need. There wasn't much, except a box of breakfast bars. They weren't her favorite, but they would have to do.

She ran out of the kitchen and dining room to her bedroom, bars and mystery box in hand. She placed them on her bed, and after a moment of thought, grabbed her pink backpack from the back of her closet. In it, she shoved a few dresses, some books, her toothbrush and hairbrush, and a foam toy she had been low-key obsessed with for the past month.

She put the food in there and placed the box in the front pocket. She looked around her room. This was it. She was really leaving this place on an adventure.

She went over to her desk and grabbed a sheet of paper. With her glitter gel pen, she wrote a quick note to her parents, explaining that she was safe and would be back soon. She walked out, then stopped. She was missing something.

She walked back in, looking for whatever it might be. And then she found it, right on her bedroom shelf.

Her family picture. Not a fancy one for a royal portrait, but the one she had taken a year earlier when they had gone to Julington for some festival. Her mom was in the back, a smile on her face. Next to her was her dad, holding her now three-year-old brother, Humza. And then there was her between them. She had remembered feeling a bit out of breath, not realizing the timer was a three-second one instead of a ten-second one. But she had made it for the photo.

She would miss them.

She grabbed it and added it to her pack. She was ready.

✧✧✧

The armory wasn't that far from her room, thankfully. It was a dark and a bit musty room with all sort of weapons—swords, spears, bows and arrows were everywhere. She worried that it might take a while to find it (It was 22:03 now, only 24 minutes left), but then she saw it.

Hanging at the top of the wall directly in front of her was Inas' famous Black Iron sword. It was still in its sheath, decorated with spiral patterns. She had only seen it in pictures—and now she was about to steal it!?

She sighed. She had to do this. And anyways, wasn't it technically her birthright as future queen of Calinas?

She spotted a stool in the corner and after placing her backpack next to a shield, she dragged it over. She got up on it, and reached for the sword, barley grasping it. After a few tries, she finally un-hooked it from it's pin. She wanted to pull it out of its sheath and swing it around (she knew a little bit about how to use a sword), but there wasn't time.

She looped the sheath to the ribbon around her waist, picking her backpack back up, and checked the time. 22:25. She started to jog over to the meeting room.

Two minutes later, she was there. She ducked under a tapestry, and in moments, a teen the princess recognized as Lady Elisabeth walked out. She followed behind her, trying not to make a sound.

Soon, the noblewoman made a sharp left turn. Amina wasn't sure why she would do this, there were no exits there, until she realized what she was doing.

She was climbing out the window.

She had left it open, and after a few moments the princess climbed out.

(Amina silently thanked the Gods that they were on the first floor.)

Lady Elisabeth was running over to two figures in the water. That’s when she realized she wasn't sure how she would ever sneak on undetected. But then she remembered something.

She was a night elementist.

She chuckled, and quickly used her powers to make her area darker. If anyone spotted her, they would just mistake her for a passing shadow.

Soon, she made it over to the boat. She worried that someone would notice the slight rock of the structure as her weight was added to it, but a girl with brown hair in a long braid seemed to be arguing with Lady Elisabeth, and the other girl was staring off into space so hard, Amina thought she wouldn't even notice if she tipped the boat.

She crawled under a bench, setting her backpack next to her. She didn't know what she was doing. She didn't know where she was going. And she certainly didn't know who she was traveling with. But that didn't matter now. What mattered was that she could help fix things.

Right?

Taglist:

@dorkdukess

@xonar-verse

aaaaaaaaaa

(hey look, i finally published this!! oh gosh. anyways, sorry it took so long, it’s just that this really sets off the plot, and I’ve had like,,,, four different versions of this chapter playing around in my head.)

Please let me know:

If you want to be added or removed from the taglist

If I’ve made any spelling mistakes

If I’ve made any grammar errors

Your general feedback

Your questions

If I should add any other trigger warnings.

Reblogs are way more helpful than likes, which don’t really do anything for me!

Thank you, and have a great day/night.

[grootiez]

The Joys of Raising a Teenaged Groot- Chapter 61: Discussion

The next day, Groot had just got done his daily therapy session and had his feeding tube hooked up to his morning formula. Rocket and the other Guardians were bringing the teenager back to his room to relax for a little bit before he had to go to Calina for his speech therapy lesson when Azrik approached them in the hall.

“Hey, can I see you guys in the conference room?” Azrik beseeches the Guardians as Groot whines, clearly tired and in need of a nap before he went to Calina’s office to work on using his speech device.

“Yeah.” Rocket replies as the Guardians follow Groot’s aide to the conference room. “What’s this all about?”

“We’re going to start the process of letting Groot leave here and stay at home on the weekends on a trial basis.” Azrik stated as he held open the door for the Guardians to enter the conference room as Drax pushed Groot inside.

The Guardians took their seats in the big fluffy brown leather rolling chairs and Drax parked Groot in his chair before he took his seat next to him.

“Um, Drax, do you mind if you bring Groot to the middle?” Azrik asks as he gets the Hologram projector ready. “We’re going to be appealing to the insurance company for them to reinstate Groot’s life insurance plan and it would help if they saw him in person.”

Drax gets up and moves Groot to the center as the Guardians moved their chairs to make enough room for the teen. Once they were all settled, Azrik spoke again.

“Now, let me get a representative on the phone and we’ll get started.” Azrik says as he inputs the insurance company’s contact information to get them on the other end. Once he gets through the various prompts and is talking to a real person, her image appears on the hologram.

“Hello, I am Zorthir, and what are we discussing today?” The man introduces himself.

“Hi, Zorthir, I’m Azrik of Bright Horizons Child and Adolescent Rehabilitation Center, and I have a patient in my care here whose insurance policy was canceled and his family and I would like to reinstate it.” Azrik states as Zorthir begins typing on his computer.

“Alright, and what’s the patient’s name?” Zorthir asks as he brings up a database to search.

“His name is Groot.” Azrik answers.

“And what is Groot’s last name?” Zorthir responded as Azrik looks at Rocket.

Rocket panics. Groot hasn’t had the need to have a last name in his entire life. Even when Groot was taken from the Guardians’ custody and placed in an orphanage for a period of time while the dysfunctional family (mainly Rocket) fought their hardest to get Groot back, the sapling was referred to by a random string of letters and numbers rather than by a name. It was only when Rocket gained legal custody of the young Flora Colossus, that Groot was granted his name by the judge.

“Um, well, um...” Rocket was struggling to speak. “Well, um, you see, um-.”

Peter leaned over to the raccoon’s side. “Well, Rocket, isn’t Groot legally your son?”

“Yeah, but-.” Rocket responded as he looked at the humie.

“Well back on Earth, Groot would take up your last name.” Peter explains. “You are his father after all.”

This got Rocket thinking. He nodded as he said “Alright, Quill. I agree.” Rocket states as Zorthir types in the rest of Groot’s immediate information.

“Now, Azrik, I need to ask you a few questions before I’m able to proceed with Groot’s reinstatement.” Zorthir began. “The first one is I don’t have any of Groot’s medical history on file. Do you mind sending me that information?”

“I can and I’m doing that right now.” Azrik replies as he taps on his tablet and sends Groot’s medical information over to Zorthir.

“Okay, and I’m trying to look up Groot’s current insurance plan and it says that he’s deceased.” Zorthir glances at his computer as Rocket holds his emotions in. “Do you know what the story is with that and what’s his prognosis now?”

“Groot came to us from Zanara Trauma Center.” Azrik explains.

“Why did he end up there? That place is where they send the sickest of the sick, people who’ve been in traumatic accidents, or for those who need intensive medical treatments.” Zorthir questions.

“His father, Rocket, can explain what happened that night.” Azrik responds as Zorthir turns his attention towards the raccoon.

Rocket tries to hold back his emotions. Surely reliving and having to retell the worst night of both his and Groot’s lives was not going to be easy for him.

“I, um...” Rocket began, trying to not choke up. “Groot, um, Groot was in a bad mood that night and he went up to his room. Gammy went up to his room five minutes later to check on him and that’s when we discovered that Groot ran away from home by climbing out of his bedroom window. I then went out to look for him.”

The next part was hard for Rocket to talk about. “I-I finally found Groot... But be-before I could get to him...” Rocket choked up. He couldn’t finish the rest of that fateful night.

“It’s alright, Rocket.” Azrik consoles the raccoon as he dries his eyes with a tissue. “I can explain the rest of the story if need be.” He tells Zorthir.

“Go ahead.” Zorthir permits as he gestures.

“Well, Groot sustained multiple stab wounds, as well as a black eye and both of his legs and his left arm being broken as a result of the attack. Groot was in so much pain that by the time that he was done, he had to be put in a medically-induced coma and on life support.”

“Were there any further complications?” Zorthir asks as he wrote down everything that Azrik was telling him.

“Yes, while Groot was being put in the coma, he stopped breathing, going into cardiac arrest, and dying on the table. This all happened twice before he was stabilized.” Azrik stated. “His nurse said that he lost a lot of oxygen and could have suffered irreversible brain damage.”

“And what was his prognosis on that first night?” Zorthir questioned Azrik.

“Groot’s prognosis wasn’t good.” Azrik began. “His injuries were so severe that he wasn’t expected to live through the night. If he did survive, Groot would more than likely be severely brain damaged and bed ridden for the rest of his life, unable to interact with the people he’s around and having to be supported by machines for the rest of his life.”

“What is Groot’s prognosis now?” Zorthir queried.

“Well, as you can see, Groot is able to interact with everyone, he speaks using a speech device, and as you can see, he is not bedridden and can get around using a custom made manual wheelchair.” Azrik stated as Groot smiled.

“About when did Groot get his wheelchair?” Zorthir asked.

“He got it the first day that he started therapy here, so about a couple months ago.” Azrik answered.

“Now, that chair that he’s sitting in, that’s a custom-made one, correct?” Zorthir replied as he looked at his paperwork and Azrik nodded. “Those are expensive because of the modifications needed to make Groot comfortable in it and Groot’s insurance was cancelled when he obtained it because on his policy, he was listed as recently deceased, or else we would have covered the cost of it completely. Now, on the order form it lists a Mr. Peter J. Quill as the holder of the credit card that was used to pay for it-.”

“Wait a second...” Peter growls as he stands up and turns to Rocket, fists clinched. “You said that you paid for Groot’s chair yourself...” The humie was furious now as Rocket turned in his seat to hide a snicker. “Rocket...” The raccoon still couldn’t stop laughing to himself as Peter made him look at his angry face. “You stupid ball of fur and trash, what the HELL are you laughing at?”

“Just an idiot who can’t even keep an eye on his own wallet.” Rocket snickers as Quill reaches over to slap the rodent.

“Boys, boys!” Gamora scolds the two as Rocket hisses at Peter, baring his teeth in a defensive manner. “I’m sorry for their behavior, but these two numbskulls are always bickering like an old married couple.”

“Hey!” Rocket and Peter chimed in at the same time. “No we don’t! I would never-.” They both finish in unison together as they slowly turned to look at each other.

“Shut up, Star-Munch!” Rocket snarls as he leans against his chair’s armrest, ready to pounce on Peter. “Everyone here knows that you waste money on useless junk anyways, so I made you buy something that’ll benefit somebody else than you.” He then looks at Peter to apologize. “I’m sorry, I should’ve asked you first before I maxed out your credit card...”

Before Peter could say anything, Zorthir responds. “Since Groot clearly needs his chair to get around, I will approve it getting covered by insurance, which reminds me, Azrik, can you please send me all of his medical records and diagnoses?”

Azrik swipes his finger across the holographic pad in his hands. “Just did.” He says as Zorthir hears a notification ding on his end and he read the files Azrik sent him.

“Alright. I’ll get Groot re-enrolled into our system on his original policy.” Zorthir informs the Guardians. “Luckily, there’s a few things his policy covers the cost on.”

“Like what?” Gamora questions.

“For starters, all of Groot’s daily and specialty medications, as well as his formula would be covered.” Zorthir began. “It also says on his records that he uses a communication device to talk. About how long has he had it?”

“He got it the day before he got his wheelchair, so at least for a few months now.” Azrik replies. “And he’s gotten better and better with using it to communicate.”

“Alright. When I reactivate Groot’s insurance plan, Rocket, since you’re his primary legal guardian and caregiver, you will be reimbursed for the amount of the wheelchair and his talker.” Peter stood up from his seat. “Wait a minute! Rocket stole MY money FROM MY bank account! So shouldn’t it be ME who get reimbursed from the insurance company?!?!”

“I’m sorry, but as he is listed as the only parent or legal guardian, as well as Groot’s primary caregiver, Rocket is the only person entitled to any monetary compensation from Groot’s insurance policy due to his medical needs.” Zorthir explains as Rocket holds one of his paws up to say something.

“Wait a minute.” Rocket interrupts. “Quill, I’m sorry that I haven’t been truthful with ya from the day we first met.” He apologizes as Peter scoffs, knowing that the raccoon is secretly trying to finagle something that Peter would have to pay him back with later. “I’m sorry that I went behind your back and stole your credit card in order to pay for Groot’s chair. I was greedy and didn’t want to pay for it myself. So how about I pay you back the full amount and... here.” The raccoon gets out his holographic currency exchanger and transfers the appropriate amount of Units to Peter.

Peter was dumbfounded by the gesture as he got out his own currency exchanger and saw the Units were in fact back in to his banking account.

“Wow, Rocket, uh, thanks.” Peter’s gratitude is apparent as Rocket just ignores it and shrugs it off.

“Now, back to the situation at hand, are there any further things that need to be discussed?” Zorthir questions.

“Yes, there are a couple of things that we’re looking into for Groot. The first thing is, he’s made tremendous strides in his recovery and we’re thinking about letting him go home for the weekends and come back here for the weekdays so that we can continue his care and various therapies that he needs.” Azrik stated as Groot looked at and smiled at Rocket.

“That would be a good step in his recovery and I’m in agreement with it.” Zorthir then cleared his throat. “But, your house will need to be evaluated and certain modifications made in order for it to be accessible for Groot. Now, we would cover any and all necessary renovations and all of the required equipment, but it’ll need to be inspected by a certified contractor and approved before Groot could go home.”

“Okay, we agree with all of that. Is there anything else that Groot would need when he comes home?” Gamora inquired.

“Yes. Because of Groot’s various conditions, he will need a personal care nurse to take care of him, give him his medications, and monitor his progress over the weekend.” Zorthir explains. “After that, if things improve we can hopefully increase the time that he’s home to a week at a time. I would expect all of you to pay attention to Groot's needs and help out wherever possible.”He implores the Guardians as they all agree.

Zorthir then shuffles the various amounts of paperwork on his desk. “Okay, then. I think that concludes our meeting.” He declares as he begins to stand up as Groot taps Azrik’s shoulder.

“Wait, there’s actually something that we need to mention.” Azrik says as Zorthir sat back down. “A few days ago, Groot got the opportunity to test out and drive a power wheelchair. He did so well with it, we decided that he would be a good candidate to get one of his own, fully customized to his needs.” Azrik explains as he sends over a copy of the order form for the chair in question. “The thing is, Groot would need all of the specialized features like the electric tilt, recline, powered leg rests, and elevated seat in order to be completely comfortable. He would also need things like the attendant control in case he can’t drive the chair himself and one of his family members need to do it for him.”

Zorthir looks at the order form intently. “I see. A customized wheelchair like this isn’t exactly cheap and can run in the range of 30-40 thousand Units. Thankfully, this is the kind of thing that Groot’s newly reactivated insurance plan would cover the complete cost on. So good news, Groot! You’ll be getting your new wheelchair when it’s ready.” He declares as he signed off on the form as excited shouts could be heard coming from Groot as Azrik ended the conference.

After about fifteen more minutes of talking between Azrik and the Guardians, they left the conference room so that Groot could continue on with his day. The excitement couldn’t be contained within Groot as the Guardians made their way back to the teenager’s room for a well-deserved celebration. ———————————————————————————————

@trashpandaorigins @madness-on-the-milano @madcatz6277 @blaketoziers @butterflyinthewell @canuckscot @i-sudoku @janetgenea @lothirielswanmarvel @netbug009 @pineapple-crow @rocket-roquill-raccoon @rocket-ringtail-raccoon @rr4901 @sesshouki @skarabrae-stone @thatcrappypuppy @vic394 @woozletania @whoop-whoop-grocket———————————————————————————————

Read on Ao3.

[archiveddvrpg]

In fair Verona, our tale begins with CALINA SOKOLOVA, who is TWENTY-FIVE years old. She is often called CLEOPATRA by the MONTAGUES and works as their EMISSARY. She uses SHE/HER pronouns.

Her life began as the lives of most LEGENDS do: a far cry from the way they’re bound to end. She came into this world kicking and screaming, but not a soul was there to see it—no shepherds, no kings, not even her own mother. For the first few hours of her life, the world hardly knew she was there at all; she’d snuck into it unnoticed and unannounced, though certainly not for a lack of trying, and she’d have left it that way too, had fate not laid her in the arms of a woman who’d prayed for her for years without ever having known her. A princess of the dark alley she’d been born in and nothing more, she was given a roof over her head and a name to call her own, something to remember her by and something to come home to when the world got a little too cold. Calina Sokolova was born from the ASHES of the nameless girl she might’ve been, a child spared from the pain of being forgotten because she’d never been known in the first place, and for a time, she was loved. Her new mother promised her what her first one never could—that she’d never be alone—and for fifteen years, she made good on that promise. The diamond she’d found in the rough grew into a young lady with a mind that could save them both from the comfortable gutter they called home, and by the time Calina was on the cusp of adulthood, they’d scrounged enough money for her to go to Novosibirsk in search of work and a better life. Things were looking up for the girl who’d always thought to keep her head down.

And then the sickness set in. It was subtle, nearly gentle, in the way it took hold of her mother, the way it stole the light from her eyes and turned her sun-kissed skin a ghostly pale, and Calina HATED it for that, for likening her mother’s demise to the wilting of the flowers they’d both so loved to pick. Her desperation to see the woman who’d given her a life far greater than the one fate had dealt her to live led her to spend every penny they had trying to save her, to buy one more day, one more hour, one more minute with her, but in the end, she lost her, and the world kept turning in spite of it all—in spite of her. The sun rose the next day as it always did, CRUEL in the way it shone as if nothing at all had been lost, and Calina was left to pick up the pieces of a life that could’ve been, a life that should’ve been. It was in the days and weeks following the only real tragedy she’d ever known that she learned the difference between savagery and true destruction, the difference between spilling blood and KILLING HOPE. What truly haunts people is seldom the means by which things meet their ends, the maladies and blades and disasters that take, but what remains and what once was: a necklace her mother always wore, the smile she’d loved so much.

She lost her mother a second time—piece by piece—when she struggled to move on, to pull herself out of the hole she’d plunged into. First, she sold her possessions—the sweater she’d gotten for Christmas and worn so much it was like a second skin, the pots and pans and cutlery they’d prided themselves on using so artfully. When the money ran out and she found she had nothing left to give, she sold the only thing she had left: her body. She spent years working in a brothel for far less than she deserved, pulled in and TRAPPED into a never-ending circle of unpaid debts by a madame that preyed on those who knew no better or were too desperate for money to care. It was almost shamefully easy to become someone else, to be anyone or anything her clients wanted—anyone but herself, and she did her job so well that Calina Sokolova became little more than a distant MEMORY, a girl who’d once had it all and lost it—a girl who’d died with her mother. But it wouldn’t rain forever, it seemed. Salvation came when she least expected it, as it often tends to do, in the form of a red-haired stranger that paid off the remainder of her contract in full, and clever enough not to count her blessings prematurely, she walked out of the brothel a free woman with the knowledge that her FREEDOM would undoubtedly come with a PRICE.

To her credit, she wasn’t wrong, but she was also far from right. Damiano was not a man seeking to use her, to drag her by her hair from one hell into another; he was a man who wanted her cooperation, her allegiance. He, with the machinations of his war-worn mind, knew that she was a WRAITH looking for a soul to tie itself to. So he gave her one: Faron Vasiliev. Told of the girl she’d once been by a client of hers, all sharp wit and quiet ambition, he’d sought her out with a proposal of sorts, one she’d be equally foolish to accept as she would be to refuse: she could build an empire with him, or she could turn around and ask her madame for his money back. “Didn’t anyone tell you that you can’t make a whore into a housewife?” She’d asked, dark eyes narrowed in the way of a tactician looking for a suitable place to strike. Vasiliev laughed then, the sound every bit as unexpected as her question, and said, “I don’t need a housewife. I need a general.” And so a general she became. This is the story of a girl turned woman turned PHOENIX, a girl who learned that true conquering comes not from cutting a man down at the knees, but by making him kneel of his own volition. Calina Sokolova has not come to burn your city to the ground; she’s come to see you strike the match yourself. This is her TORCH SONG; remember her not only for who she was, but what she took from you—everything.

MONA CHEN: Mark. The Montagues and the Capulets war over territories like the Greeks warred with the Spartans -- as though Ares himself had a hand in the game that was being played. The Dark Lady is perhaps the most sought-after by the Montagues, Mona’s particular services being a rather coveted source of information and revenue. It seems, though, that Calina has gained the woman’s interest in particular. The emissary feels the weight of her gaze and the subtle knives that are meant to cut into her so that Mona might piece her apart. She has learned, though, to be an enigma, has learned to keep her cards close to her chest so that none might know the hand that she wishes to play until it is too late to step away from the game. Mona will be hers, though. Mona will rue the day that Calina ever learned her name. 

BORIS KOVROV: Distrust. She errs on the side of Faron’s judgment only when it aligns with her own, and though it tends to be a rather rare occurrence, they can both agree on this: Boris Kovrov is not to be trusted. Calina has seen her fair share of snakes in this world, ranging from harmless to utterly lethal, but she’s never known a man so confidently cunning, so elegantly manipulative. It comes as no surprise that he’s found his niche among the Montagues, surely, but there are few things their mob condemns more than treason, and he’s a known perpetrator of the art. But despite knowing what he’s capable of, she’s hardly compelled to do much more than keep a wary eye on him and rein him in from time to time; the real puppeteer stands just behind him, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

GRACE DALY: Suspicion. Brutal and gentle things alike have always left a bitter taste in her mouth, and the soldier’s affinity for red—for blood and lipstick and everything violent—has never sat well with her. It’s not as though Grace is the only one among their ranks with a love of savagery in its most base form, but she’s among the closest to the top of the hierarchy, and Calina knows—perhaps better than anyone—that wild things ought to be watched closely. So long as the woman’s teeth are bared in another direction, she won’t have to make her shut her mouth.

ALEXANDER RALLIS: Intrigue. She’s heard stories about him. Tales of conquering and red-tinted dreamscapes made into bloodied battlefields; fables of a self-made god who had built himself up from the husk of his own mortality and the dust of his enemies’ bones. Calina is indifferent to these tales as she is a firm believer that solid actions speak much louder than fickle words—but she knows that every myth carries a figment of truth. And that is what her reluctant intrigue towards the man stems from; a desire to glimpse the truth within the fabrications of glory that the consigliere is so enshrouded by. So far, the only true thing that she has been able to perceive is Alexander’s swift climb through the tenuous Montague ranks and it has prompted a strange wonderment within her especially when considering the fact that anyone who speaks of Alexander Rallis speaks more of his achievements than his beginnings. Calina understands how crucial a beginning is to every story and thus, she can’t help but wonder where it all started for him.

Calina is portrayed by BERTA VÁSQUEZ and was written by BREE. They are currently TAKEN by KIERSTEN.

[thatoneshadyshop]

4th of Sun’s Dawn, 2E 583

Sometimes, one despairs at one’s people.

It surely should not have proven as hard to have found a replacement journal. All one asked for was a leather bound journal which would be suitable for the humid climates of Valenwood. One in which the ink would actually remain, rather than simply seeping through overly damp pages. The Bosmer are allied to one’s people, after all, and tis hardly as if such a trivial thing is beyond the means that we chosen of the Divines can manage.

Yet twas not that simple. Of course not. There was form to consider, naturally, a consideration of which vendor was favoured, which shops one could be seen in, which family a Mer of one’s standing and name could be seen to do business with. There was the matter of colouring, of patterns, of decoration, on and on and on .... One came within an inch of being struck by Grandmother when she overheard one dismissing such concerns. What does it matter to one if the cover is an imperial or cardinal shade? What does one care if the pages be chiffon and cotton; much less if the vendor favours the Jor or the Joraire in matters of finance? What one desired was simple - a journal. A new, non-shredded, durable journal, in which one could record one’s thoughts and musings.

Pah. The Khajiit knows not the suffering he and his feral daughter have put one through. Bad enough they simply leave without so much as a warning, leaving one with no idea of where they are going, leaving one to worry and fret and imagine all sorts of machinations at play ... bad enough that, without forcing one to contend with the fashions and politics of the day! All for the sake of a pit of pique, and Ma’Riahni’s eagerness to express her displeasure in a tangible manner.

One supposes tis of little consequence. One has a journal once more, and one knows that Qau-Dar is safe. Asteril and the children have been to the tavern by the docks often enough by now to satisfy one of that. 

One can sympathise, one supposes. Tis hard for any Khajiit to be away from his Clan, and despite the alliance twixt our people’s, one’s kin are not what Qau-Dar is used to. One admits, one would have expected to have left the Isles by now as well, yet tis hardly as if the appearance of Pyandorean pirates to the north could have been foretold, nor that the damage to the ship required more extensive than anticipated repairs. Tis disappointing, yes, that the necessary materials are taking so long to arrive, and yet one supposes one can understand. Tis a time of conflict and strife, after all, and it must be expected that the needs of Her Majesty’s armies and ships must come before those of civilians. Especially when said civilians are outsiders.

Still. With Grandfather agreeing to have one of his agents oversee the repairs, and with Grandmother using her influence to speed the process as much as possible, it cannot be much longer till we depart. A fact which one is ... not as glad about as might have been expected. Returning to the Isles has been dangerous, yes, foolish, for certain, and stirred up more than one would have been comfortable with. And yet ... yet tis familiar. Tis all that one recalled. Tis ... tis home.

Pah. Sentimental foolishness. For all Grandmother has been welcoming, and Grandfather quietly approving, and Calina open in her affections, and the children excited to explore one’s home, and one’s nephews and nieces likeable and entertaining, and Asteril more alike to one than one would expected, and for ... For all that, there remains too much to undo, and one has forged a life beyond the Isles that cannot be ignored.

One has toyed with the notion of seeing Qau-Dar oneself. In all that has occurred, one has perhaps not spent as much time with him as one should, and perhaps ... but no, Grandmother is right. Qau-Dar obviously feels the need for space and time, and it would not be right or fair for one to invade that. No, better to give him what he seeks, and not to force the issue. He will come around. One has no doubt. He will.

[mj-blog-spot]

PROPERTY RELATIONS BETWEEN HUSBAND AND WIFE

Art. 80. In the absence of a contrary stipulation in a marriage settlement, the property relations of the spouses shall be governed by Philippine laws, regardless of the place of the celebration of the marriage and their residence.

This rule shall not apply:

(1) Where both spouses are aliens;

(2) With respect to the extrinsic validity of contracts affecting property not situated in the Philippines and executed in the country where the property is located; and

(3) With respect to the extrinsic validity of contracts entered into in the Philippines but affecting property situated in a foreign country whose laws require different formalities for its extrinsic validity. (124a)

Erlinda Agapay vs Carlina Palang

G.R. No. 116668 July 28 1997

FACTS;

Miguel Palang married Calina Vellesterol with whom he had 1 child. He then

contracted his second marriage with Erlinda Agapay, with whom he had a son. The

couple purchased a parcel of agricultural land and the transfer certificate was issued

in their names. She also purchased a house and lot in Binalonan, where the property

was later issued in her name. Miguel and Carlina executed a Deed of Donation,

wherein they agreed to donate their conjugal property consisting of 6 parcels of land

to their only child, Herminia. Carlina filed a complaint against Miguel and Erlinda for

bigamy.

Miguel died, and Carlina and Herminia instituted an action for recovery of ownership

and possession with damages against Erlinda. They sought to get back the riceland

and house and lot allegedly bought by Miguel during his cohabitation with Erlinda. RTC

dismissed the complaint and ordered the respondents to provide for the intestate

shares of the parties, particularly of Erlinda's son. CA reversed the trial court's

decision.

Erlinda Agapay vs Carlina Palang

G.R. No. 116668 July 28 1997

FACTS: Miguel Palang married Calina Vellesterol with whom he had 1 child. He then contracted his second marriage with Erlinda Agapay, with whom he had a son. The couple purchased a parcel of agricultural land and the transfer certificate was issued in their names. She also purchased a house and lot in Binalonan, where the property was later issued in her name. Miguel and Carlina executed a Deed of Donation, wherein they agreed to donate their conjugal property consisting of 6 parcels of land to their only child, Herminia. Carlina filed a complaint against Miguel and Erlinda for bigamy. Miguel died, and Carlina and Herminia instituted an action for recovery of ownership and possession with damages against Erlinda. They sought to get back the rice land and house and lot allegedly bought by Miguel during his cohabitation with Erlinda. RTC dismissed the complaint and ordered the respondents to provide for the intestate shares of the parties, particularly of Erlinda's son. CA reversed the trial court's decision.

ISSUE: Whether or not the properties from Miguel's second marriage be granted to Erlinda.

RULING: No. SC held that the agricultural land and house and land cannot be granted to Erlinda. The sale of the rice land was made in favor of Miguel and Erlinda. The provision of law applicable here is Article 148 of the Family Code providing for cases of cohabitation when a man and a woman who are not capacitated to marry each other live exclusively with each other as husband and wife without the benefit of marriage or under a void marriage. The marriage of Miguel and Erlinda was null and void because the earlier marriage of Miguel and Carlina was still subsisting and unaffected by the latter's de facto separation.

In the case at bar, Erlinda tried to establish by her testimony that she is engaged in the business of buy and sell and had a sari-sari store but failed to persuade us that she actually contributed money to buy the subject rice land. Worth noting is the fact that on the date of conveyance, May 17, 1973, petitioner was only around twenty years of age and Miguel Palang was already sixty-four and a pensioner of the U.S. Government. Considering her youthfulness, it is unrealistic to conclude that in 1973 she contributed P3,750.00 as her share in the purchase price of subject property. Since petitioner failed to prove that she contributed money to the purchase price of the Riceland in Binalonan, Pangasinan, we find no basis to justify her co-ownership with Miguel over the same.

Under Article 148, only the properties acquired by both of the parties through their actual joint contribution of money, property or industry shall be owned by them in common in proportion to their respective contributions. It must be stressed that actual contribution is required by this provision, in contrast to Article 147 which states that efforts in the care and maintenance of the family and household, are regarded as contributions to the acquisition of common property by one who has no salary or income or work or industry. If the actual contribution of the party is not proved, there will be no co-ownership and no presumption of equal shares.

[punchdrunkdoc]

Part 3, Chapter 23

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness? Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 4 parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics

Okay, this is an extra looooong chapter. But we're finally at the end of Part 3! And the last line in this chapter was written when I first started plotting this fic, over 18 months and 230 000 words ago...so I'm a little excited for you guys to finally read it!

————–

PART 3

Chapter 23

The hostess led Cross and Ranieri through the busy restaurant, and Matt tracked their movements as they weaved between tables, the scent of their mingled colognes getting stronger as they came closer to his and Calina’s corner. He had a brief moment of concern that Cross was headed straight for them - that somehow Cross had discovered that Matt was looking into him, and had come here to confront him-

But then Cross paused at the table behind Matt to greet the couple seated there. Cross obviously knew them well, launching into a recap of his golf game from that morning and laughing with the couple about the new wait staff at the country club. Cross was in his slightly smarmy, exuberant, rich-guy mode - a persona that Matt had started calling his ‘politician guise’. It was a far cry from the real Cross - the cold sociopathic monster who enjoyed torturing people - and the falsity of it grated on Matt.

After a few moments of inane chatter, Cross and Ranieri moved on, heading for the back of the restaurant where the VIP section resided, separated from the rest of the public by a locked door.

“Will you be able to hear what’s going on in there?” Calina asked quietly.

Matt shook his head. “I doubt it. There’s soundproofing in the walls.”

“Soundproofing? In an already private room? That just screams shady, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. I’m going to have to get closer - I can only pick up indistinct murmurs from here.”

“While you do that, I’ll contact Anya.”

“Anya? Why?”

“Because I think Ranieri’s presence here ties everything together.”

———

After the initial shock of seeing Ranieri had worn off, Calina realised that it shouldn’t have been a shock at all. It made complete sense. “We always suspected that the man behind the fear pheromone was the one who activated me to kill Governor Benson.”

Matt nodded. “In order to guarantee the supply of Arsonium for the pheromone.”

“Right. Aminev was the Red Room employee who dosed me for that assassination attempt, and Anya mentioned that she’d found his name in Ranieri’s laptop - Ranieri was looking for him after he defected from Volkov’s group. I’m guessing he found him - either he sent Aminev to Cross, knowing that he’d pay through the nose for a Black Widow to control, or Aminev told Ranieri about Cross.”

“Either way, Ranieri’s obviously decided to get into bed with another sociopath looking for power.”

“We need to find out what he’s telling Cross about the Widows and Volkov’s work.”

Matt nodded again, looking grim. “Agreed.” He gave Calina a quick kiss on the cheek and set off to do just that.

Calina watched Matt head for the restroom two doors down from the private VIP room, and hoped he’d be able to hear what Cross and Ranieri were up to from there.

Because this whole thing was giving her a really bad feeling.

The moment she’d set eyes on Ranieri, a pit of anxiety had opened up in her gut. It was the collision of her two worlds - her present with Matt, and her past with the Widows - and she knew it could only portend disaster for the future. Cross was powerful enough as it was, with all his wealth and influence and the fear pheromone he was using to blackmail key figures in the city. Add in mind-control serum or another Black Widow assassin to that mix and he could very possibly take over the world.

Calina grabbed her phone from her purse and sent off a message to Anya, updating her about Cross’ involvement in the serum, and the unexpected appearance of Ranieri. She’d call the other Widow later and give her more details, but she knew Anya would be intrigued enough by her quick missive to start digging and confirm Calina’s theory.

Meanwhile…she’d wait.

She was used to it. So many of her past missions were exercises in patience. In biding her time watching her marks, and waiting for the right moment to strike. But back then there were no idle thoughts to distract her, and definitely no fears or worries for her partner on the job.

This felt different. Her head was spinning with worry for what this new complication meant. And worry for Matt, who was becoming obsessed with taking down Cross.

Luckily, she didn’t have to wait - and worry - for long. Ten minutes later, Matt emerged from his stake-out in the restroom and made his way back to her.

She smiled at him - an almost involuntary reflex now whenever she saw him. She’d asked him once, if he could sense that. They’d been lying in bed, her head on his chest, his fingers trailing up and down her bare back as they filled each other in on their day. “I caught my reflection in the window today when you walked in,” she’d told him, recounting the moment he’d met her at the coffee shop around the corner from his office. “I was smiling like an idiot, for all the world to see.”

“Is that a bad thing?” he’d replied.

“No, just strange. Considering the way I was raised.”

“Well I like that you smile like an idiot when you see me.”

She laughed. Then tilted her head up to look at him. “But can you tell? When you walk into a room, can you sense that I’m smiling at you?”

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then brushed his thumb over her lips. “I don’t need to sense these move to know you’re happy to see me. I know in other ways.”

She’d spent the rest of the night trying to elicit what those ‘other ways’ were, using all her feminine tricks and wiles to cajole the secret from him, but he didn’t budge.

At this moment though, if he sensed she was happy to see him, he didn’t let on. There was no smile on his face as he approached their table. In fact, there was a stiffness to his gait that wasn’t there before, and his stubbled jaw was clenched.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I need to go. They’re leaving through a back entrance, and I don’t want to lose this chance to find out what they’re up to.”

“Okay. I’ll see you at home later. Be careful.”

She went to put her hand on his, where it rested on his cane, but he pulled away from her touch. “I need to go,” he repeated, and strode for the door.

The bad feeling in Calina’s gut grew stronger.

And it didn’t let up over the next several hours, as Matt followed Cross and Ranieri all over the city, and she was left to pace his living room floor alone.

He eventually returned as dawn was starting to break across the sky. Calina was napping on the couch, exhaustion and worry leading to a fretful, interrupted sleep. As his key turned in the door, she sat upright and called out. “Matt, are you okay?”

He didn’t look okay. He trudged into the living room, footfalls heavy and slow, and collapsed on to the chair opposite her. His 5 o’clock shadow had darkened into scruff and the suit he’d worn to dinner last night was rumpled and creased. He rubbed his hands over his face then massaged his temples, as if fighting off a headache.

“Matt,” she said again, softer this time. “What happened?”

“Nothing. Hours and hours of fucking nothing.”

“What do you mean?”

Matt sighed and let his head fall back against the chair. “I caught up with Cross and Ranieri after they left the restaurant, and tailed them to a club on the upper east side - an exclusive members-only club that was harder for me to get into than fucking Fort Knox.”

“But you managed right? I mean, you’re Daredevil, a few locked doors are nothing to you,” she tried to make her comment light, to help counteract the air of anger and frustration that seemed to simmer beneath Matt’s weary state.

It didn’t work. Matt just continued to recap his night in the same flat, bitter tone. “I eventually managed to find a way on to the roof that wasn’t guarded by a camera or security guard, but I couldn’t hear anything of use - it was too loud and packed with other people to make out Cross and Ranieri’s conversation. They left the club after a couple of hours, and split up. I followed Ranieri to the Waldorf, but he went straight to his room. He didn’t meet up with anyone else.”

Calina did the math in her head, and realised that several hours were still unaccounted for in Matt’s story. He never came home for his Daredevil suit to go out patrolling…so what did he do instead?

“Then what?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been gone practically all night, Matt.”

Matt sat forward, dangled his hands between his legs and stared at the floor. “I needed to think.”

Calina swallowed, suddenly more worried than she’d been all night. Matt’s voice as he said those words…his whole demeanour…

Something was really wrong.

“What did you need to think about?”

Matt clasped his hands together and squeezed until his flesh went white. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, as if hesitating to answer.

“Matt, what’s going on?”

He took a deep breath and lifted his head in her direction. “Does the name ‘Eliise’ mean anything to you?”

Calina frowned, thrown by the unexpected question. Then the blood drained from her face as she realised how he would have heard that name. “It was my alias in Italy, when I was going after Ranieri. He recognised me in the restaurant, didn’t he?”

“Oh, yeah. Turns out you were really fucking memorable. I mean, he was a little disappointed you’d changed your hair and weren’t showing as much leg as before, but he took great delight in describing his night with you to Cross.”

Calina exhaled in relief, glad her real identity as a Widow hadn’t been blown. “So he was bragging to look like a big shot in front of his new associate, so what?”

“It wasn’t baseless bragging. He was regaling Cross in lurid detail about all the ways he'd fucked you. And he wasn’t lying. I could practically feel his heartbeat through that bathroom wall, and he believed every single word of what he said.”

“Wait…are you saying you think I slept with him? That I had sex with him in Italy behind your back?”

“He wasn’t lying, Calina,” Matt repeated, through clenched teeth.

“Neither was I! I told you exactly what happened during that mission!”

“Like you told me exactly what happened to the man you killed across the hall?”

Calina reeled back, as if the words were a physical blow. “So I’m always going to be a liar in your eyes, is that it? Despite the fact that I’ve been honest and open with you every single day since then? Despite the fact that you claim to love me? Doesn’t that afford me the benefit of the doubt at the very least!?”

Matt jumped to his feet. “Yes! Of course it does! That’s why I’ve been wrestling with this all night! I couldn’t reconcile what you told me with-”

“With what Ranieri said? You believed a complete stranger over me?”

“No, not blindly. But you’re asking me to ignore everything my senses are telling me-”

“Yes! Because your senses aren’t infallible, Matt. All of your goddam trust issues stem from the fact that you’ve been lied to again and again by the people you're close to, which means you can’t always tell when someone’s being honest!”

“So now you’re throwing my past back at me? I just want the truth, Calina! What happened in Italy?”

Calina didn’t answer. Instead, she grabbed her cell from the coffee table and dialled a number.

“What are you doing?” Matt asked, as the sound of the phone ringing filled the air between them.

“Well, you obviously won’t believe anything I tell you, so I’m getting someone impartial to give you the truth.”

At that moment, Anya picked up the phone, sounding wide awake despite the hour. “Calina? I’ve been looking into this Cross and Ranieri thing, and I may have found something. They-”

“Not now, Anya,” Calina interrupted. “I need you to speak to Matt.”

“Okay…about what?"

“Tell him about Italy. About the serum I injected Ranieri with - and what it does.”

“Um, it’s a modified sedative. Designed to render a mark unconscious while also allowing for hypnotic suggestions to be implanted.”

“And what suggestions did you implant while Ranieri was unconscious?” Calina asked.

“That, um, you had sex with him.”

“Did I actually have sex with him?”

“No! Of course not. Calina, what’s this about? What’s-”

“I’ll tell you later.” Calina hung up the phone and looked at Matt. He stood with his hands on his hips, head bowed. “Satisfied?”

At Calina’s question, he lifted his head. Shook it once. “Calina, I’m sorry-”

“I don’t give a shit.” She shoved her phone in her pocket, grabbed her purse and stalked towards the door.

Matt caught her hand before she could yank it open. “Wait, don’t leave. We need to talk about this. I’m so sorry for-”

“For what? For doubting me? Not trusting me? Or for thinking I'm the kind of person who would cheat on you, and lie to your face about it?”

“Callie-”

“No. I can’t deal with this right now. I need to go.”

“Go? Go where? Please don’t disappear on me again.”

“Right now, I’m going to my apartment across the hall to get some sleep. Don’t follow me. Don’t call me.”

Matt squeezed her hand. Brought it to his lips and pressed a desperate kiss to the back of it. “Please, sweetheart-”

“No. I need some space, Matt. Just let me go.”

“I don’t think I can ever let you go, sweetheart,” Matt whispered against her skin. “But I’ll give you some space.” He dropped her hand and stepped to the side.

Calina walked through the door and didn’t look back.

———

Matt hit the punching bag with all his strength, the smack of flesh meeting leather creating a satisfying sound that rang out in the empty gym.

The pain that came a moment later was satisfying in a different way.

Matt had foregone the hand wraps and gloves for a reason. He’d come straight to Fogwell’s after the fight with Calina, wanting to take out all his anger and frustration on the training equipment…and wanting to punish himself in the process.

He couldn’t believe how thoroughly he’d fucked things up tonight.

No, that was wrong. He could believe it. It was one of his core personality traits, after all: the ability to sabotage every good thing in his life.

Like his relationship with Karen. He’d fucked that up because he couldn’t stay away from the toxic pull of Elektra. He’d fucked up his career and his friendship with Foggy because he couldn’t find the right balance between Matt Murdock and Daredevil.

He really thought he’d turned a corner this year. He’d mended the rift with Foggy, found friendship again with Karen, and had rebuilt the law firm with their help…but now he’d gone and fucked everything up with Calina. Because he couldn’t trust her.

No, that was wrong too. He couldn’t trust his trust in her.

Because he knew that she hadn’t lied to him about Italy. He knew she wasn’t the type of person who could be unfaithful. He knew there must be some explanation for why Ranieri believed the things that he did.

As soon as he’d heard the smarmy Italian telling Cross about ‘Eliise’, Matt had shook his head in disbelief. He knew it must be Calina he was referring to - the timing and location of the encounter fit with the Widow’s mission, and he seemed so sure he recognised Calina, despite the change in her appearance - but Matt couldn’t believe the story he was spinning about them sleeping together. He didn’t believe it. He knew that it had to be a lie, despite what his senses were telling him.

But as the night wore on, and he had little to do but sit on a cold, concrete rooftop as Cross and Ranieri’s conversation was lost to the din of the nightclub below, insidious thoughts started to creep into Matt’s mind.

What if…?

What if Calina had lied to him? She’d done it before, after all. She’d kept the secret of her identity for months. She’d killed people, and kept that from him.

What if sleeping with Ranieri was vital to her mission to take down Volkov? He knew how strong and overwhelming the Widows’ drive for freedom had been. They would have stopped at nothing to get out from under Volkov’s thumb. Would Calina have stopped at sleeping with a mark? She’d done that before in the past, as well…

Matt had hated the thoughts as they’d formed in his head. He’d screwed his eyes shut and pulled at the strands of his hair, as if he could physically banish them. He didn’t like that even a tiny part of him could think so ill of the woman he loved.

But he couldn’t seem to shake those thoughts. They took root over the course of the night, and he spent hours walking the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, wrestling with them. Trying to conquer them with the truths that he was sure of: Calina was a good person. She’d vowed to be honest with him. She loved him, and wouldn’t betray him.

But those wretched, malignant doubts just wouldn’t go away.

And look where they’d gotten him - pummelling his fists bloody and raw because he’d hurt Calina. Because he’d ruined things between them.

Why couldn’t he have trusted his initial instinct that Ranieri was lying?

Why couldn’t he have trusted his belief in Calina?

Matt yelled in frustration as he hit the bag so hard it swung away from him, a wordless shout of anger and pain that echoed off the crumbling walls of the gym. He caught the bag as it came back, and rested his forehead against the leather, panting with exertion. Warm blood trickled from the split skin over his knuckles, and he could feel the burn of inflammation in his shoulder where he must have pulled a muscle.

But the pain didn’t help. The self-flagellation wasn’t lessening any of his guilt.

And he was at real risk of doing damage to himself that wouldn’t heal with an icepack and a few bandages. He scoffed at the irony as he cleaned off the blood from his hands and the sweat from his brow. He never used to worry about himself in that way. Not before Calina. Not before he started to see a future for himself, with her.

He just didn’t know if that future existed now.

———

Calina couldn’t sleep.

She wasn’t surprised. Sleep had never come easily to her in this new post-Widow’s life. Not unless she was next to Matt…

Matt.

She sighed and rolled on to her back, staring vacantly at the ceiling over her bed. She wished she could cry or yell or hit something to get rid of this…numbness…that she felt. She’d left his apartment in a hurry, feeling like she was on the verge of breaking down, but when she reached her own bedroom just moments later, a wave of numbness had descended, until she was left like this - feeling empty, detached from her own emotions.

As if they were too big, too devastating to bear, and her mind was protecting her from them.

Or maybe it just meant that she was done. That she knew it was over between her and Matt, and her pragmatic side had decided that there was no point in wallowing in grief and pain over the loss.

No. The thought of it really and truly being over between her and Matt caused a sharp stab of pain through her heart.

A response at last. 

Because she loved him. 

Which was its own curse. Because it meant that she knew him. She knew his past and the way it had shaped who he was today. She knew why he’d reacted the way he had tonight…and a small part of her even sympathised with his struggle to believe her.

Hence, the curse. She should be allowed to be angry. To feel betrayed by his doubts. To hate him as much as she loved him.

But instead she was...numb.

So numb, the sound of a knock at the door barely elicited a reaction, even though it was probably Matt ignoring her wishes. “I said I needed space, Matt,” she called out as she dragged herself out of bed.

“We’re not Matt, so open up,” was the response.

Frowning, Calina opened the door to find Anya and Katya standing in the hall - along with a very unexpected addition. “What are you doing here so early?”

Anya pushed passed her into the living room. “After that weird phone call, we had to come and see what was happening.”

Katya rolled her eyes. “Tactful, Anya. We’re not just here out of curiosity. We came to see how you were. We figured you and Matt had an argument.”

“Is that why you brought a dog?” Calina asked, pointing to the puppy in Katya’s arms. “For comfort?"

"Comfort?"

"Yeah. I read that petting a dog lowers cortisol levels, and can boost dopamine and serotonin neurotransmitters in the brain.”

Katya looked down at the squirming mass of fur in her arms. “That would have been a good idea, actually. But, no, we’re dog-sitting Nika and didn’t want to leave her in the house while everyone else is too pre-occupied with what’s happening over Wakanda to watch her.”

“Wait, whose dog is she? And what’s happening in Wakanda?” Calina sat on the edge of the sofa and looked up at the Widows, glad there were a couple of mysteries to uncover that would take her mind off Matt.

Katya let the puppy down to explore and joined Calina on the couch. “She belongs to Yelena. She picked her up from the pound last week.”

Calina smiled. “That’s great. She said she always wanted a dog - I just thought she was planning to wait until all the Widows’ stuff was sorted.”

“Nope. She just decided that she’ll still do all the ‘Widows’ stuff’ and leave us to look after the dog while she’s gone.”

“Where is she now?”

“In Helsinki with Sonya. They’re freeing Ana - do you remember her?”

Calina had the vague recollection of an older, blonde girl who was a couple of cohorts ahead of her in the Red Room. “Not really.”

“Well, we found her in a mansion in the Finnish countryside, so Yelena flew out there last night.”

“That’s good that you guys found someone else.”

“Speaking of finding something,” Anya said. “I was looking into Cross and Ranieri like you asked-”

“That can wait until later,” Katya interrupted. “Tell us what happened with Matt.”

Calina groaned and sank back into the couch. The puppy took it as her cue to jump up on her lap. She managed the leap with no problem, and Calina could tell she was going to be big once she reached her true size. She looked like a cross between a husky and a German shepherd, and her fur was thick and soft when Calina sank her fingers into it. She continued to pet the dog as she explained the events of last night.

“So, thank you, Anya,” she said at the end of the tale. “For being so thorough in your description of my fake sexcapade with Ranieri that he’s never forgotten that night.”

Anya winced. “Sorry.”

Calina shook her head. “No, it’s not your fault. This was probably always destined to happen - Matt finds it hard to trust people, and I have a history of lying to him. What’s that phrase? ’Irreconcilable differences’?”

“I don’t believe that,” Katya said. “You’re not irreconcilable. You’ll get past this, just like your other..hurdles.”

Calina laughed at the word 'hurdle', which felt like a massive understatement. “I’m not so sure this time.” Her voice broke, and she could feel the barrier around her emotions start to break down, the numbness start to wear off, so she quickly changed the subject before the tears followed. “But enough about that. Tell me what you found, Anya.”

Anya didn’t have to be asked twice. She launched into a detailed explanation of how she searched Ranieri’s emails and his entire internet footprint via a software program she'd designed which utilised AI…until Katya had to beg her to get to the point. “Please, just give us the bullet point summary!”

“Okay, fine. It turns out Ranieri and Cross were boarded together at the same school in Switzerland for a brief period - before Ranieri was expelled for drug use, and Cross’ family emigrated to New York.”

“So they’ve known each other all this time?” Calina asked.

Anya shrugged. “It’s unclear how friendly they were for most of it, but their communications  definitely increased over the past couple of years. It looks like Ranieri was hustling on the side with Cross. He liked being in league with Volkov, but he had no loyalty, and he wasn’t as fanatical about the mission as Volkov was. He was in it for the money and power, and he saw no problem with stealing from Volkov to help him get in with another powerful man.”

“So he was the one that sent Aminev to Cross. He basically gave his old school friend a Black Widow assassin,” Katya added.

“That was the plan,” Anya clarified. “But Aminev got greedy. He was supposed to just hand over the tech to Cross, but he set himself up as the middle-man instead, getting paid to control Calina on behalf of Cross. But he fucked that up and got himself killed instead.”

“It’s a wonder Cross trusted Ranieri after that,” Calina mused. Cross didn’t seem the type to suffer incompetence in his associates.

“It didn’t matter. Ranieri had already done enough to secure his place in Cross’ inner circle.”

“How?” Calina asked.

“By giving him an old Red Room formulation. It had been superseded by the mind control serum, so Ranieri figured Volkov wouldn’t notice when the last remaining vials went missing.”

“What was the formulation?” Katya asked.

Calina had a sinking feeling she knew exactly what it was. “It was the fear pheromone, wasn’t it?”

Anya nodded. “A rudimentary version compared to what’s on the streets now. But yes.”

“So it all started with Ranieri,” Katya said, shaking her head in disbelief. “He gave Cross the idea of the fear pheromone, the basic formula to improve upon, and he even tried to guarantee his supply of the main ingredient - Arsonium Bromide - by giving him a Black Widow. That slimy, inbred piece of Italian trash started this whole thing.”

“Well, technically, the Red Room started it all,” Anya countered. “They came up with the fear pheromone in the first place.”

Calina let out a bitter laugh. “Of course it all started with them. All the pain that Cross caused with his experiments to perfect the pheromone, all the lives he ruined and the people he killed…it all stems back to the Red Room. To us. This is our legacy.”

Katya scowled at her. “What are you talking about? This isn’t on us. This is on Dreykov, and Volkov and all those other assholes in the Red Room. Our legacy will be stopping Cross - we're going to help you and Matt take him down.”

Calina nodded. She knew Katya was right. She and the other Widows were as much victims as those Cross had experimented on. They weren’t culpable. She was just feeling extra resentful and scathing about her past and her association with the Red Room this morning.

For obvious reasons.

And she wasn’t sure how she’d be able to work with Matt again on this, or anything else, but she appreciated her sisters' support. “Thanks, guys. For finding all this out, and for coming to check on me this morning. And for letting me pet the dog - I think it helped.” She smoothed her hand over one floppy ear and scratched behind it. The puppy immediately rolled over and offered her stomach for extra pets. Calina laughed and complied. 

“Speaking of the dog, why don’t you come with us while we take her for a walk. Clear your head a bit.”

Calina nodded. “Sounds good.”

Some fresh air and a playful puppy sounded infinitely better than wallowing in her bed alone for the rest of the day. 

———

As Matt left the gym, the sun was high in the sky and the working day was starting for his fellow New Yorkers. The traffic on the streets was growing, and the sound of shutters being raised on storefronts drowned out the chorus of birdsong.

Matt checked the time on his watch. He could head to the office...but he wasn't sure he was in the right head space for work this morning. And he didn't feel like going back to his apartment - not when Calina's absence would be palpable. Not when the air would still hold her scent - that would be more of a torment than a comfort right now.

So he walked. For hours. Aimlessly. Down tree-lined streets and across concrete avenues shaded by high rise buildings. He walked, concentrating on the feel of the ground beneath his feet and the steady beat of his heart, trying not to think about the fight with Calina. About how he could gain her forgiveness. About the possibility that he might never do so.

He walked…and eventually found himself outside Clinton church. For the second time in just over 24 hours.

God, had it only been a day?

Everything felt so different now. Not just in terms of the shock invasion from above, but the tumult in his own life. Yesterday he was planning to introduce his mother to the love of his life. Yesterday he felt such a sense of hope and optimism.

But now…

“Matthew?” 

Speaking of his mother…

“Maggie,” he replied.

Something in his voice must have worried her. Or maybe she caught sight of the blood staining the bandages over his hands. Either way, she came rushing over. “What’s wrong. What happened?” She took hold of his arm and guided him down the steps to the rectory attached to the church. He took a seat at the small kitchen table while she fussed over him, removing his bandages and cleaning his damaged skin with warm water.

It was strange. This church, the people in it - Maggie, Father Lantom - were the source of so much of the betrayal that had shaped him. And yet he still returned to it. Again and again. 

Was it a form of masochism?

Or was he subconsciously searching for answers? For an explanation.

“Why did you do it?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Maggie paused in the act of washing his wounds. “What?”

“Why did you let me believe I was all alone in the world?”

“Oh, Matthew.” Maggie dropped the cloth she’d been using and took the seat next to him. “I- I was so young when I had you. And I was so confused. I thought I was betraying God-”

“I’m not talking about that,” he bit out. “I know you were young. I know about the post partum depression. I don’t blame you for any of that. I want to know about later. When my Dad died, afterwards, my whole life…you let me believe I was alone. You lied to me. Father Lantom lied to me. I- I just need to know why.”

“Why are you asking this now? I thought you’d found it in your heart to forgive us.”

Matt laughed. “So did I. And maybe I have forgiven you. But the damage was done regardless.”

“What damage? You said everything you’ve been through led you to becoming Daredevil, and that you were content with that.”

“With that part of my life, yes. But the rest of my life? No so much.”

“What are you talking about. Tell me what happened.”

Matt sprang up from the chair and poked a finger in his chest. “I am what happened! I fucked it all up with Calina, because I couldn’t trust her. Because I couldn’t banish these thoughts that she was lying to me. Betraying me. Because that’s what I’m used to. That’s what I expect from the people who claim to care about me, and its ruining my fucking life!”

Matt turned away and gripped the edges of the sink, head bowed, as he tried to get hold of his rage. He could feel Maggie approach, then tentatively lay a hand on his shoulder. He fought the urge to shrug off her comfort, but a part of him didn’t want to undo all the progress they’d made together.

He didn’t want to do or say something in anger that would ruin this relationship too. But he was just so goddam frustrated! He could feel years of resentment bubbling up to the surface.

Maggie must have sensed it, because she finally gave him the answers he craved. “When your father was alive,” she said, in a faltering voice, “I convinced myself that coming to you, and telling you the truth would just hurt you. Confuse you too much. Then, after he died, I convinced myself that it would do more harm than good. Eventually…I realised the truth.”

“Which was?”

“I’m a coward, Matthew. I was too scared to face you, and own up to the biggest mistake of my life. To save myself from that, I hurt you instead. And I’m so, so sorry for that.” She pressed on his arm, getting him to turn and face her. When he did, she reached up to take his face in her hands. “But you, Matthew Murdock, are not a coward. You are the bravest man I’ve ever known. And the strongest. It takes both to be able to love someone - it isn’t something that weak people do.”

“I do love Calina. So much. But I just don't know how to give her that last little piece of my trust.”

“My dear boy, that’s where the courage comes into play. It’s a leap of faith to give over your heart and your trust to someone else, never knowing for sure if they’ll keep them safe. You just have to be brave and jump. I have a feeling that Calina won’t squander those gifts.”

“But will she trust me with her heart now? After the things I accused her of…”

“Only she can decide that. But you need to go and find out. Fight for her. Don’t just hole yourself up hitting bags of sand - figure out a way to win her back instead.”

Matt nodded. And then, because he was feeling so drained and emotional, and because she was standing so close, he gave in to the impulse to drop his head down to her shoulder. Maggie froze for a fraction of a second before wrapping her arms around him. He hooked one arm around her waist…and they were hugging.

His first ever hug from his mother.

He could feel in the slight tremble in her frame how much it meant to her. It meant just as much to him.

And he knew he needed to let it go. All of the resentment. All of the anger at her betrayal. Father Lantom’s lies. Even Elektra and Stick's offences against him. Everything.

He needed to truly forgive and move on - for his sake, for Maggie’s, and for Calina most of all.

Because he wanted to be a better man for her.

After a few long moments, he stepped away from the embrace. “Thanks Maggie. I, um, should get going, I guess.”

“To Calina?” she asked, in a slightly bossy tone.

“Yes,” he laughed. “To Calina.”

“Good.”

Matt stepped back out into the bright spring morning, feeling a renewed sense of hope. He wouldn’t let things end with Calina this way. He wouldn’t let things end at all. He loved her. And he knew she loved him. He just had to convince her to give him another chance.

And he was a lawyer - convincing people was one of the things he did best.

He set off back in the direction of this apartment, already mentally composing his speech to Calina. His grovelling, heartfelt and earnest declaration that would hopefully persuade her to take him back. In fact, he was concentrating so hard on what he would say to her, that he missed the first warning signs that something was wrong in the city.

Very, very wrong.

But then he heard the first scream. His head jerked up at the sound trying to pinpoint the location. That’s when another scream rang out, from a different direction. Then the sounds of multiple cars crashing all over the city. A plane going down in the distance...

And beneath all that noise, and chaos…a terrible, eerie silence was growing in the world. As if thousands of heartbeats and breaths and voices were just…disappearing. Being snuffed out at once.

That horrible absence grew and grew, and with it, Matt’s fear. He started running, that same urge from yesterday overtaking him - the desperate need to get to Calina. He barrelled past other pedestrians on the street, those who were rooted in place, looking around in terror. He felt himself run through flakes of…something. Too warm to be snow. Too insubstantial to be leaves or bits of paper floating in the air. He didn’t stop to figure it out, he just kept running.

Until suddenly, he started to feel...strange.

As if the ground was no longer beneath his feet. As if the air was no longer brushing against his skin. As if all his senses were dulled. He staggered to a halt, and grasped his chest, as if to reassure himself he was still…him. But his hand vanished before it could make contact.

There was no pain. No sensation to it at all. He    w a      s                   

j               u                       s                           t

                                    

 c             o                          

                                                         m

                                                                                    i

                                                                                           n

                                                             g              

 

 a       

                  p

                                                        a

                                                                                                      r

                                                                                                                                          

t…

————–

END OF PART 3

————–

Well, for those of you who aren't familiar with Avenger's Infinity War...the BLIP just happened! And I don't actually know for sure if Matt was blipped in canon or not, but in my story he was.

Poor guy!

Find out how he deals with it here...

Part 4, chapter 1

Tag list: @hollandorks @stilldreaming666 @sio-ina-bottle @tearoseart-blog @acharliecoxedfan @freckledbabyyy @chezagnes

If you’d like to be added - let me know!

[nityarawal]

Hope you all enjoyed April Fools weekend and lost a few leprauchans of parasitic intent in your lives too!

Hope we can make Thunder happen for my ladies soon - but peace with my family is essential now! Xo

Nitya

Suppanae for 4/3 & 4/13

To be arbitrated & mediated over phone & settled 4/3/23 in Vista Courts 

With my legal team below present, video conference televised or phone.

Sandiego, Riverside, LA Family Courts & PDs to dismiss expired orders for false charges with Pedos from Vista PD: Ashby Clark Sorrensen & Gay silencer Grant Funk who lied & Hustled on video about credentials on Las Calimas videos & calls- also Alibi Darin David Joye to be present & clear foul play with truth from Abi Odam & all testimonies emailed to: nityahuntley@gmail.com 

San Diego DA Summer Stephan to collect maximum refunds from all attys & damages + insurance on all their heads for ghosting me and failing their fiduciary duty to me as their clients -as the defense team continues to do- abusing constitutional civil and real estate laws respecting faith and family bonds.

Estrangement is a UK disease. 

We'd like to "Rewind" all businesses with Dr. Sunil Christopher Rawal- Including Rewind & revert back to 16-17 orders with all returned from scoundrels of courts that were involved in global ponzi scam against my family.

Peace - stop the war- on behalf of mothers of Globe & our daughters. 

Gay defense team failed every code of ethic and should never be allowed kids nor marriage rights. 

We gave you privilege - yet you attacked Vows we shared. 

No rapists shall have our privileges of faith again in union under God. 

I agree with Kim Reynolds of Iowa & will rally for that with her & my cause- to help #FreeBritney & #HalfPersianLivesMatter now. Nor more #HalfPrincessesLivesMatter Shaming from these ghouls in county and state offices. They're unpleasant and all are to be suppanaed abd charged on racist bribes.

Women & moms needed those benefits of marriage laws for donestic harmony- yet they violated moms if faith in these bribes- mean dykes that rape women in divorce courts wont get privilege of marriage protections either.

They Lost privilege of divine union under God in America. 

We all need reparations for injustices and are homes, assets, children & assets restored.

Gratzia!

Merci!

Nitya Nella Davigo Azam Moezzi Huntley Rawal 

My team:

Attys: Roseline Farrel - defends against Persian American racism.

Anette & Carrie Hallneville: failed to mediate or change name.

Tara Yelman: revert back to 2016 orders pre Lori Clark Viviano murder.

Mathew Palmer: said Judge Kelly Mok wanted to hide defense team abuse rather than do family court Dissolution. 

Tony Dunne: screamed at me in urgent care hustling for another $50k on bribes!

Alicia Freeze: managed Alan Silverman's senile orders in 2016 and wrongful restraining from my beach home. She will handle emergency Dissolution and has my files. 

DA Summer Stephan ( charge her husband Judge Sabraw with $5m in bribes last year to traffic his daughter, me, mx kids at border and children whom are victims of divorce courts. Charge her officers for all rapes!)

DA Michael Hestrin & Sheriff Chad Bianco- raping and murdering our community

Officers:

Hanby, Mariano, Lopez & Lardaby testified that Dr. Singh attempted life to Judge Clark with whole nursing staff from Moeno Valley Hospital. 

Peggie Lorenz- useless Sheriff

Daniel Hidalgo- bribed Student Investigator 

Metropolitan Hospital:

Rape police reports

Forced drug full disclosures ( what did they dose and rape me with?) 

Allergic reactions to:

Covid parasites

Syphilis spirochetes in Hospitals

(FYI: Spike proteins are amoebas!) 

Haldol

Zyprexa

Geodon etc.

And all psych med abuse! 

Las Calinas:

Press charges for Dr. Anderson bribing cops to dose me with Depakote as vitamin D. 

Press charges against Dr. Tongue and every Dr. / social worker that was bribed to commit medical malpractice for x attys wrongful arrests. 

To charge with attempted murder and 12 rapes of children and I:

Ashby Clark Sorrenson & Grant Funk are notorious neo-nazi pedophiles in Encinitas. Grant Funk stole custody of toddler daughter; pimping mom on heroin to criminal thieving cop. 

Ashby made invitro children to molest from TJ rather than honoring fiduciary duty to me. 

He never should've had RO approved for business crimes in family law. (Nor should Viviano team to block from home settlement!)

Ashby lied and said he did family & real estate law- then extorted more money for Dr's and Theresa Truchi's fees. She shredded files and failed to perform. Darin David Joye is my Alibi and said I was a "job."

On phone safe (from home):

Parents: John & Mitra Huntley

Kids: Isha Kyan Rawal

Anjali Prana Rawal

Brother: Haydn Huntley

Cousin: Mary Mahoney Gill

Cusbands: Alidad Bahrami &

Kvon Moezzi 

My gigolos:

Darin David Joye ( works with Odam mediators on bribes & silencing.org)

Robert Dreyfuss ( father murdered by x-team hookers on acquisition of 2 homes!)

Jeremiah Curcie- marine who drunkenly raped me from Barbara Bradford Farm. (Suppanae mom Sarita Fischer, landladies Barbara & Mary Jane Bradford & handyman Eddy Lyons.)

Oliver Walker- dirty Marine college friend also estranged from mom and gave me bronchitis and ingrown hair infections at urgent care.

Justin Wild: Secret Service set up from Mary Schmitz ( aka defense team daughter and hooker- niece of Mary Kay Letourneau.)

Handymen:

Dennis Sketchley ( attempted murder with Alex Grover AKA Dustin and beat me out of Scenic home after slumlording from 54399 Valleyview with rat disease from Shane Stewart of Idyllwild Realty. Their gang killed Adrien on country club.)

Ryan Wickoff- also referred to Joan

James- referred me to Mary Schmitz

Mark Flannigan- brought used bed and sister works with County to steal children. 

Dr's- saw 9 since Valentine's health crisis from Lymes,, Giardia, Gingivitis - filling fell out last summer! 4 medical dentists only cared about filling.

covid Germ warfare:

Carole Meredith

Amy Bell

Tima Ivanova (her bff witnessed murders of property manager Emily Pearson & husband.)

Dr.  Adam Cash

Red Alinsod ( he had to get me anti biotics in OC when urgent care discriminated against me on head injury and ingrown hair!)

Julie Anne Steiger- Calm and Ground Counseling- CPS hooker took bribes to quit one month shy if 12 month comittment from Ashby Clark Sorrenson. 

Dr Natalya

Dr. Queresheri

Dr. Sina & Staff- Western Dental - cancelled filling 3 days in row- is having a dispute with their corporate office abd is court contentious & racist.

Dr. Nissan & Staff

All IEHP therapists at Calm & Ground Counseling:

Erin Bird 

Dr. Browning

Dr. Judi Milin

Dentists:

Dr. Galli

Dr. Cary O' Reilly

Dr. Tower

Dr. Yudin

Dr. Demorey

All 4 'Medical" Dentists & Metro dentists /Dr's. 

Good Drs:

Dr Blaine Jackson- Solana Beach

Dr. Red Alinsod urogyn.org

Dr. Eric Eisen- kids Dr doesn't feel forced drugs have been good for kids nor Sunils weaponising inside of my family with every low dirty trick possible. 

OBGYN- Encinitas

Naturopaths

Ayurvedic Drs

X- Team 

Dr. Sunil Rawal

Attys: Dr. Alan Silverman (senile)

Jeff Fritz (sociopath who represented Lori Clark Viviano & Diane Monteill Silverman on 7 year custody battle and real estate acquisition I managed. This is a conflict of interest.)

Dorian Silverman & husband Josh.

Monika & Ildiko Fodor - mail order spies

Sonya Sweitch Goodwin- Texas pedophile

Christopher Sunnen- atty attempted murder with investigator Mark Milton 

Daniel Smachtenberger- Dr. Sunil Rawal's pimp with Dr. David Farley Kaplan- bribed Dr. Singh and staff to attempt life with forced drugs, rapes and advertise my head as a Probate on Riverside Healthcare System. (See #FramingBritney & I Care Alot to understand psychiatry murder. Dr. Singh is reported to murder over 70 moms a year at Moreno Valley Hospital on bribes.)

James Smachtenberger- uses Daniel's hookers and pimps experimental illegal drugs to Daniel's  businessmen. 

Cathy Minchkin Bliss- worked for David Farley Kaplan at our NC Spiritual center selling real estate and groomed son in Osho pedophile sex cukt- see wild country on Netflix. 

Morgan Viviano on behalf of dead mom- Lori Clark Viviano

Judges:

Kelly Mok- fired

Assistant presiding judge Judith Clark- recall 

Judge Mathew Brower- recall for pedophilia as a Marine vet

Commissioner Ratekin- recall- doesn't understand real estate or ethics laws.

Judge Sawbraw- recall for pedophile scam at border & divorce courts.

Real Estate:

Neda Nourani

Atty Ken Carlsson

Broker: Roger Lee of Homesmart Realty

Broker: Mike Smith

Broker: Ryan Mahelona

Tina Molina on Tollgate murder of her mom Leslie Wiedner while hospitalized. 

Lexus:

David Santa Monica

California Car Rental wrongful arrest

Toyota Highlander Hit And run- arranged by x's  atty Jeff Fritz Thanksgiving 2016

Lexus Escondido to settle lemon with corporate + maximim damages for years of abuse/terrorism from gay defense team.

Airbnb:

All Raimondis 

Public Defense:

Jay Curatolo

Olesya Adam's

Jordan

Peter Pwun

Kristin Scogin

Mathew Robert's

Sherry Stone

Michael Ruiz

Melissa Ruiz

Whitney Ryan

Marni Entin

(50+ more generic PDs, rotating judges on bribes & Drs need to be added from files.) 

Congressman: Scott Peters

Governors: Jerry Brown

Gavin Newsom

Pilot/Sheriff/Mason/Mother Divine Peace Palace TM teacher & x fiance: Wally Devasier 

To bring airplane from Fairfield, Iowa MIU:

Dr. John Hagelin- Dr. Sunil's mentor that Begged me to date him for 3 years while Dr. Rawal was courting me. 

God mother: Helene Lindblom

Husband: Dennis Raimondi

Stepdaughter: Ayni Raimondi- AirBnb Manager witnessed foul play 

Lakshmi team:

Bruce Hauptmann

Daniel Martinez Hauptmann

Alex Martinez Valponi Devasier Taft

Wallers

Dr Eugene

Rewind Ap Dissolution Team:

Hunt Team:

Jessica Michelle

Mischa

Alan Hunt

James

Jonathan Budd

Andy 

Apple aps 

Rewind ap:

Elon Musk 

Dmv.org 

Reparations for Dr. Sunil Rawal & Daniel Smachtenberger's gay foul play. 

Herahub:

Bonnie Fletcher- viviano foul play client

Felena Hansen: owner

Vanessa Lillegren Elle: tried to hire Lori Clark Viviano- also given lymes std by sex sting thru divorce. 

Pro Bono attys:

Viveka Hess

Nadia Moussa

Atty Brendon Nelson (Wally's father-in-law whose probably younger than him!) 

Honorable Benny Waggoner (Wally's other father-in-law whose younger than him! Magistrate Judge in Iowa who sued our boss Bruce Hauptman- need reperations & recall their degrees.)

Mathew Rosengart- representing Britney Spears and I.

Laura 

Alicia Freeze- is to close case with Ashby Clark sorensen and do emergency divorce Dissolution with courts. 

Dad's atty:

Ed Noyes- need reparations on $50m Tahoe Sands Resort.

Len Labagh - dead- daughter Amy can come in his place.

Partners:

Bob Bernard's

Joel Bernard's

Hollies Bernard's

Judi Bernard's

Jeremy Bernard's 

Manager: Craig Rothen 

Wrongful arrests:

Reparations for every violent officer and atty since 2016 lies on DV record from Dr. SUNIL RAWAL- ALICIA FREEZE CLEARED FROM RECORDS!

Need $50b in reperations. 

1067 Neptune Ave in Encinitas, CA to be reinstated abd custody orders. I was found competent over 6 times. We've found court to be parasitic on bribes and cancerous in bodies- failing to perform ethically. 

Alibis: Najah Dawaji

Moral Askar

Kelsey Mullen - father is a probation officer in Iowa

Matt Dixon- ™ center chair

Ed Mally- Mayor- son was murdered in California

Jyoti- neighbor on country club murder 

Oceana Cotton

Dennis Sketchly

Radar

Alex Grover (aka Dustin)

Liquor Store Alex

Dorian

Radar

Jeremy Parsons- Sheriff

Sergeant Protero 

Moreno Valley Hospital Sergeant Vasquez 

[wardogxicarus]

Calina strode the halls with the confidence and calmness of someone that had been there for a number of years. Every side track, nook, and cranny was etched into his memory well enough that light itself wasn't needed for him. For Pierce's sake, though, he described their path and notable signage as they passed it. He had seen more than his fair share of new recruits and visitors get lost here.

Once warm enough, he pushed his hood and goggles off to reveal hair as dark as his goatee, though shocks of silver-white ran through it. Crow's feet at the corners of his eyes and skin weathered by the elements became easier to see- as did his chipper attitude.

"It sure is!" Calina agreed, "Nights can be brutal out here, but we've got plenty of gear rated for sub-freezing temps in case you need it." He came to a stop at a door. "Your guest room, Captain."

@anotherhumanpet

"Sí! Ha pasado un tiempo, así que puede que sea un poco lento, pero puedo seguir el ritmo lo suficientemente bien." He reciprocated Calina's shake with the same amount of strength, then tilted his head slightly at the pat to his arm. It wasn't unwelcome; Truthfully it was kind of nice, grounding even, but it carried with it a sense of familiarity he felt was undeserved for the likes of him. After all, he was new here, completely unknown to the staff of this base - or so he had thought anyway.

"Legendary?" The word was mumbled in disbelief and, behind his mask, Pierce visibly blinked in confusion as he struggled to process how such a word came to be associated with the likes of him. Maybe in his local timeline he was an infamous legendary traitor of sorts, but for him to be the opposite sort of legend seemed off.

He tried not to dwell on it for long though and fell in line behind Calina when the other agent took point. Then, as he finally took notice of the base's infrastructure, he whistled his amazement and admired the subtle, intricate beauty of its design. It wasn't missed how familiar the interior felt either, which part of him did appreciate. With any luck, it'd keep him from getting lost. "Fucking cold out here." He forced out a laugh, trying to be more light hearted than cranky with his complaints.

@wardogxicarus

[pettymoms-thearchive]

Yep i agree anon Quinns wife is a dope head and probably allowed Calina around truly when she relapsed. A bunch of junkies who definitely don't need another kid.

Disagree her wife is a great provider and is doing what she needs to in order to live a better life. People make mistakes and that is life. All we can do is try not to repeat those mistakesPeach

[faronvasiliev-blog]

@calina-s​ // IMAGINARY FRIEND AU

            lifespan with no cellmate

            'I regret that it takes a life to learn how to live.’                                              — Jonathan Safran Foer

There’s a girl cooling in an alley. Her dress is taffeta and pale, her eyes are open and there is clotted brown dried on her chest, a different shade on her elbows, her feet. Her lips are blue and her hair is brown, curled about her face, matted in the frozen dirt.

Slowly, he hesitates, squats down beside her. It is winter, and cold.

She must be around his age, young, dirty, frost creeping white on her fingers. With gloved hands, he presses two fingers to her eyelids, slides her sightless eyes shut.

Ice cracks under his feet when he stands again, ice climbing the brick walls. He turns, and walks to school.

There’s a girl in his bedroom. Her dress is taffeta and pale. Faron raises an eyebrow.

She stays silent, watching him. He watches her back for a moment, before putting his school bag down and sitting down to do his homework. Vaguely aware of her, a peripheral presence behind his back. At some point when he gets up to get water, she’s standing by the bed, somewhat less terrifying than the horror movies would suggest of ghosts and hauntings.

“You can see me.” She says, bluntly when he comes back, glass of water in hand.

“Yes,” Faron replies, and turns back to his homework. Perhaps she’ll be gone by morning.

The girl isn’t gone by morning. She’s sitting in his chair, looking at his math equations, at his textbook still open to the page they had been last night. He sits up in bed, and puts on his uniform, tightens his tie in a half windsor.

“... Breakfast?” He offers at the doorway, lacking anything else to say.

“I can’t eat.”

He blinks again. "Alright.”

In the end, she follows him out the door. It’s crowded in the morning, she- and decides a moment later, when a man walks through her shoulder, to stick behind him after all.

“So this is your school?”

“Mhm.” He’s humming in lieu of a reply, mindful of the other students waiting at the gates. You can see me. He’s not willing to bet on the fact anyone else can.

“It looks pretentious.”

“Do you want me to look up exorcisms for you?”

“I’m fine.”

He’s making soup, again. Chopping cabbage and onion, peeling carrots and slicing them into uneven cubes. “Shchi?” The girl asks.

“Shchi,” he confirms, and remembers just in time that she can’t pass him the sauerkraut from the fridge even if he asks her to.

He sets an extra place at dinner that night anyway, and if it’s a little odd, his parents don’t question it.

“Have you seen the Exorcist?”

“... No. Should I?”

“Nevermind.”

“It was a client.” She says, absently.

He’s never asked what she did for a living. He’s never had to ask. And this is a little piece of herself she’s offering up to him, a little piece of her heart, perhaps.

“I see.” He turns the page of his calculus textbook, examines the questions with a frown.

“My name.” And-- a pause. He is listening now, concentration suddenly sharp, mathematics forgotten in his notebook. It takes a moment for him to finish writing the equation, to turn his eyes back to the page from where they had flickered to her general direction.

A moment of silence, as if she is weighing her words. Weighing the weight of them. “My name is Calina.”

“That’s...” a loss for words, for barely a moment. “A lovely name.” Calina. Calina, Calina- he wants to repeat it, wants to see how the syllables will sound, falling from his tongue. In the end, he doesn’t. In the end he draws a line with his ruler and finishes a calculus graph in the notebook. “I’m Faron.”

She snorts, and the stillness breaks. “I know.”

One day, he looks up her birth records at the local office, just because he can. It’s easy, really- there are back doors everywhere, he knows someone who works there who lets him in with a scowl and a ‘get going in an hour’. The cameras, not unexpectedly, haven’t been working for at least two months. Calina watches, disapproving over his shoulder.

“Calina Solokova.” He repeats the name, and grins.

“I could have just told you.”

“Your birthday,” he reminds her, “Is in two months.”

Summer is warm, the sun shines and there are flowers growing in the cracks between pavements. The school uniform has been switched out again, different material shirts and blazers instead of cardigans.

“Don’t go down there.” Calina is somewhere behind his shoulder in the mostly empty corridor- she’d been in front of him before, had disappeared before returning. A gaggle of younger students pass, laughing at some joke. “They’re waiting for you.”

He makes no sign of having seen her, much less heard her, but when he reaches the library, he walks past instead of going in.

Bullies never change.

Birds in the trees, birds outside the window. It’s raining, a drizzle that does not disguise the sun. Even the clouds are thin, the light coming through blue-tinged glass and hitting them both. There is no shadow cast on the floorboards where Calina stand.

It is on a whim that he opens his hand, palm tilted towards hers. After a moment of hesitation, she mirrors the motion, fingers splayed, lifted in the air. He joins their hands, like that, hovers his palm over hers and it’s so close they’re almost touching, so close that they are.

Like this their wavering realities brush, a chemical zip he feels in his veins.

He grows taller, tall enough that he straightens his shoulders and Calina wrinkles her nose because they’re the same height now, although he’s wearing socks and she’s barefoot because for some godawful reason someone had taken her shoes before she died.

Well.

It’s only him who carries on aging.

The unease remains unspoken.

And then, one day, Faron is inexplicably taller than her.

“Seventeen forever, huh,” he smirks, making his tie in the discoloured bedroom mirror. To the left, across the front, over to the right, loop, second loop, tighten. Half-Windsor. He should try another style of tie sometime.

His father dies.

He inhales the cold air, looks down at the plain, unmarked grave.

“I suppose I should start making plans for cold-blooded vengeance.” He jokes to Calina, stood beside him. It is, really, not a joke at all.

Graduation. He’s borrowed ten books on the stock market in the span of six months.

Calina manages to exceed all expectations and double his earnings for him in the first six months of leaving school and not going to University.

“You,” he declares, a little bit drunk because he’s never been into drinking before. “Are amazing.”

“I hate stock markets,” she tells him, horribly frank. He laughs again.

“We’ll expand.” He promises, and so they do.

He rarely goes out to eat any more- Calina prefers it when he cooks, and it’s easier to cook. Eating out means buying a meal for one, sitting opposite Calina and being bereft of her company while looking at her. Sometimes she’ll fill the silence, but it’s easier when there’s no need to be silent in return.

Other times he’ll buy takeout for two and manage to eat both portions while they watch television on the static-y screen.

“I should make you my advisor. That’s what they call it, no? In the мафия.”

“We’re going to make an empire, Calina.” He’s smiling, lion-sharp and red. “Our empire.”

It is an easy path that leads him into the dark, the skin of what others call a monster slips atop his own like it has always meant to be there, always lurked there under the surface. He drags a knife across someone’s throat, and it’s the first time he’s spilled blood. He feels nothing except for calm contemplation. When he looks up it is the devil that they see.

Ruthless, ruthless they name him, and it is the truth.

“I’m sorry, I can pay-” the man is close to babbling, controlled composure slipping at the seams. Just a little nudge and he’d sell his children to Faron, bodies and organs and all.

“It’s him.”

Calina’s voice, quiet, low.

He is still for a moment, utterly still. When he speaks, it is not to the still, cowering man at all.

“This is the man who killed you?”

He takes four hours. By the time he’s finished, the man has no limbs left.

“What do you think?” He peers at his reflection, poking the stubble on his chin. He hasn’t shaved for days. It’s starting to look like a beard.

“Disguises your pretty face.” She says, dryly, and doesn’t say anything else.

He beams. “I was going for the lumberjack look.”

"I’ve heard Moscow is lovely in Summer.”

Petersburg has been getting stale. It’s time to move on.

“You’re drunk.”

“I am,” he agrees, and she moves off the desk to go and sit on the bed instead.

Fleetingly, blinking too heavy, reaching too slowly, he presses his hand to the place her palm had rested last. The desk is worn, the wood cold. It must be the closest they can come to touching.

A moment later, looking at Calina, and perhaps the look in her eyes must be yearning too. An unverifiable ache, something worn and deeper than waking, than living.

How many years has it been? How many years will it be.

He breathes out a sigh, and the melancholy disappears, lost under other thoughts, under other contemplations. Lost and still there.

He wonders how long he’s been in love.

He doesn’t end up getting an advisor.

He’s never followed the correct formula, never been trapped by the tradition of brotherhood. He gets an underboss, dearest, traitorous Borya. Brutus. And if Brutus never sees enough to understand, if sometimes he might spot Faron gazing into thin space as if there might be something there-- indeed, if sometimes there is a murmur of hauntings, of a ghost in the lower ranks; he’ll soon find that Faron’s ghost is not a weakness to be exploited at all.

The rumours follow him that his advisor is a man so mysterious it’s simply that nobody has ever seen him at all. That fact is truer than anyone would expect.

Visiting Petersburg in Spring again. Frost on the streets, ice staining windows. The park with its worn swings, its slide replaced. Snow on the ground, dry and soft.

He’s no longer the kind of individual to pause at a body in an alleyway, to kneel down and close their open eyes before heading back to school. Childhood has left him, easily and willing as everything else from his youth.

Calina has not.

They shoot him twice. Shoulder, chest. It is inevitable that he falls.

Somewhere, distantly, Faron has always known the end would come to this. He hadn’t expected this particular incidence, of course. But if he had, he supposes he’d have avoided it.

Pity, he’d hoped to visit that newly opened Thai restaurant down the way as well.

He’s bleeding out and there’s blood bubbling in his lungs, he supposes he can’t breathe.

“No- no, no-” A voice. Indistinct, desperate. He struggles to open heavy eyelids, blood blinding the vision in his left eye.

And ah. Calina. She’s tear-streaked, crying, it’s the first time he’s seen her cry, fuzzy and distorted through hazy lens. Faron tries a smile, thinks he must be trying to reassure her because he’s reaching a bloody hand and holding it trembling to her cheek. With every exhale it grows harder. But she holds still, still and they’re almost touching, his shaking hand and her cheek, close enough they must brush, close enough there must be something, there must be more than illusion.

He’s still smiling when they shoot him in the head.

Faron wakes.

His body lies cooling on the concrete ground.

She sees him. Breath catching short, Calina sees him. Her eyes are red, her hands clean even though she kneels in a pool of blood, still wet, still warm, clotting at the edges.

“Calina,” he says, and all the breath in his lungs must be there for this. The light casts no shadow on him, he raises his palm and thinks it might even let some of the sun through, glittering and warm.

“Calina,” he says again, and he is breathless now, his chest is light and it is almost bursting.

He touches her, palm tilted, she mirrors the motion without thought. Their palms meet, fingers splayed, and for a moment there is the vision of pressure, and then it is caught there, heat beneath his hand, solid to the touch. He curves his fingers between hers. A laugh, startled, wondrous.

“You won’t be rid of me now.” He tells her, still laughing, and suddenly nothing else seems to matter, nothing of the body cooling on the ground, nothing of the life that has slipped so effortlessly through his hands. He is laughing and there are birds from somewhere in the trees outside, there is light and it fills up his veins.

He’s holding her, heat from their bodies, the smooth taffeta dress and the warm of her skin, so different from the memory of cold eyelids and frost he has kept for a decade. And he is with her now, it has taken them ten years and they are here, they are real.

“We won’t fall out of planes will we. I’ve always wanted to visit Antarctica.”

“You don’t take planes to Antarctica.”

“Great, let’s go by boat.”

[grootiez]

The Joys of Raising a Teenaged Groot- Chapter 34: Finding Groot’s Voice

Author’s notes: Groot speaks using an assistive device, which is not his actual voice and lets him say more than just “I am Groot”. For those instances, his words are italicized.

——————————————————————————————————

Happy flarkin’ birthday, @madness-on-the-milano.

——————————————————————————————————

Groot was brought back to his room where he sat in his wheelchair and watched Bob Ross. The Guardians tidied up his room as Azrik came by with Groot’s formula and hooked it up to his feeding tube. After about five minutes, Azrik turned off the TV. (Thankfully, he timed it just right as Bob Ross was ending.)

“Groot, it’s time for you to go to speech therapy.” Azrik said softly to Groot as the teen was almost asleep. Groot let out a meek groan in response. “I know that you’re tired. Do you want me to adjust the tilt on your wheelchair so that you’re a little bit more comfortable as we walk down to the speech therapy room?” He asked Groot as Groot let out a soft squeak to signify yes as his aide adjusted the tilt on his chair. “Better?” Azrik asked as Groot squeaked his approval as they left his room.

As Azrik and the Guardians walked to the speech therapy room, Groot started to become more awake and tried to stretch, but couldn’t because of the restraints on his arms and legs in order to keep him securely in his wheelchair. Azrik stopped pushing Groot and untied his arms and legs from the straps in order for him to help Groot stretch them out before putting the straps back on before he continued to push him down to the speech therapy room.

When they arrived at the speech therapy room, they were met by Groot’s speech therapist, Calina. She held the door open so that Azrik could push Groot inside and parked his chair on one side of the table as he sat next to him. She then held it long enough so that the Guardians could file inside and sit all around Groot. Rocket, as usual, sat on Groot’s other side and held his son’s hand.

“Hi, Groot.” Calina greeted the teenager as he looked at her. “Are you ready for your first speech therapy session?” Groot shifted his eyes towards Rocket, unsure of how to act.

“It’s okay, Groot.” Rocket reassures his son. “It’ll be okay, son.”

After the Guardians introduced themselves to Calina, it was time for her to start Groot’s speech therapy session.

“How is Groot going to talk again?” Mantis asked inquisitively.

“Well, we have a few options for Groot, we just have to see which one works best for him.” Azrik explained as Calina got out Groot’s file.

“What are the options?” Gamora inquired as Groot played with one of the straps on his chest harness.

“Well, Azrik, you and I met earlier talking about Groot, and these are the options that we have discussed for him.” Calina answered.

“The first option was to have Groot communicate using sign language.” Azrik then held Groot’s hands. “However, because of how his hands and fingers are restricted in movement, it would make signing for him extremely difficult and he would get easily frustrated in communicating his thoughts and needs to us. Plus his arm braces would interfere with some of the signs. So that is not an option for him.”

“Are there other options for Twig to talk to us?” Kraglin asked as he noisily slurped some soup.

“Actually, there are.” Calina replied as she got out a weird device from its box.

“What is that?” Drax, who was enamored with the device, inquired as he stared at it.

“This is an electrolarynx.” Calina answered as she let everyone see it. “We’re hoping that this will help Groot talk.”

“How does it work?” Peter wondered as Calina put the wrist strap around Groot’s wrist so that he could hold it better.

Well, Groot’ll hold down this button.” Calina depressed the button on the electrolarnyx and it vibrated. She then held it against Groot’s palm so that he could feel the vibrations. Groot tries to giggle at the sensation. “It tickles, huh, Groot?” Groot squeaked in response.

How is that tiny box going to make Groot talk?” Drax still didn’t understand. “Did you trap his voice inside?”

“No, not exactly.” Azrik answered. “But since Groot can make various squeaks and sounds, we think that when he places the device up against his neck, underneath his chin, or on one of his cheeks, when he attempts to say a word, this will make it clear to the rest of us.”

“Groot, sweetie, where do you want to try it out first?” Calina asked as Groot blinked to signify that he was okay with it. “Alright, hold it in your hand like this, and, where do you want to try it?” Groot tapped his cheek. “Okay, let’s put it on the softest part on your cheek, push the button, and say whatever you want.”

Nothing came out of Groot’s mouth. Calina noticed that neither his lips or mouth moved. “Groot, you’ve got to move your mouth and lips if you want to talk. Let’s try again.” Groot moved his mouth, again, nothing. “Let’s try your other cheek.” She moved the transmitter to Groot’s other cheek. Groot tried again to talk, and again, not a word from the teenager was heard.

Azrik then stepped in. “How about underneath his chin?” He suggested.

“Yes, let’s try that.” She agreed as she repositioned the device underneath Groot’s chin. “Alright, Groot, try again.” Groot tries again, but again, nothing.

“Well, the last place to try is on his throat, right on top of his vocal chords, but his neck brace is on and the tip of the transmitter is too wide to fit in between the spaces.” Azrik surmised.

“Not really.” Calina replied as she did something to the transmitter. “This model has the option for different receiver heads to fit in the space in between the neck brace supports.” She then showed Azrik the slimmer tip that she placed on the contraption before she placed it on Groot’s neck, where his vocal chords were located. “Alright Groot, try and talk.”

Groot tried his best to vocalize, but all that came out was a staticky noise.

Calina removed the electrolarynx from Groot’s throat and placed her fingers where the device was. “Groot, try to talk.” Groot tries again, this time getting frustrated that he can’t talk. “Hm... he is trying to talk because I can feel his vocal chords moving.” Calina then got out a small, handheld scanning device and placed it where her fingers were previously on his neck. “Try again, sweetie.” Groot attempted to talk, but absolutely nothing came out. “Hm... that’s interesting...”

Rocket bolted up in his seat. “What’s interesting?” He questioned worriedly.

“Groot is trying to talk, but-.” Calina began.

“But what?!?!” The raccoon implored.

“His vocal chords are severely restricted and paralyzed. No matter how much he tries, he can’t get them to move.” Calina explained. “I’m sorry, but Groot will never be able to talk on his own again.”

Rocket was on the verge of tears. But he fought them back in order to show his son that no matter what his prognosis was, that he wasn’t going to give up on him.

“Groot still has two more options.” Calina stated. “Before he came here, his nurse at the trauma center used a picture board to help him communicate, correct?”

“Yeah.” Rocket answered. “You think that’s how he can talk again?”

“Yes, but the issue with that is that he’ll have to go through a book with picture cards on it and apply them to the board.” Azrik explained. “It could take him five minutes to form a fairly complex sentence structure and I don’t think thatkll be the best case scenario for anyone.”

“What’s the final option then?” Rocket asked.

Calina got out a messenger bag and unzipped it, unveiling a computer-like device. “This is how Groot’s going to communicate with everyone.” She then powered it on, even Groot was interested in the contraption. “Since he has limited use of his fingers and hands, this device, called an Eye-Gaze Communication Device is going to track his eye movements and select the words that he’s looking at and convert them into sentences. With this, Groot can communicate normally again, although it will be an artificial voice and not his own.”

Groot then let out an audible groan. He didn’t like to use the communication device that he had to use at school.

“It’s okay, Groot.” Rocket consoled his son. Groot still wasn’t happy. “Uh, is there anyway that the voice can sound more like him and less like a robot?”

“There are options for that. I will go look it up.” Calina stated as she got up from her seat. Groot then let out a cry.

Azrik checked the time. “Oh, Groot, I forgot to take you back to the nurse’s office for your formula.” He then sniffed the air. “And I suppose that a diaper change is in order too.” He said as he got up and started to push Groot out of the room.

Calina then got a text message. “Azrik, wait, I’ll come with you. His therapists said that they got the stand in for the talker to be attached to his wheelchair.” She and Azrik then left with Groot.

Drax’s stomach then growled. “Anyone else hungry?” He asked.

“Yeah...” Replied Kraglin. “Hey, can we please go to Souplantation?” The soup-addicted Xandarian begged.

“Hell no!” Everyone answered, much to Kraglin’s heartbreak.

“Didn’t you get a lifetime ban from there after you snuck into the kitchen when they were closed?” Peter replied as Kraglin muttered to himself.

“Alright, just down the block from here is a small group of fast food restaurants. I’ll take down what everyone wants and go get it and bring it back.” Peter proposed.

Everyone then got riled up. Among various complaints from getting their orders wrong to Kraglin still lamenting about Souplantation in the corner, there was no way in making everyone happy.

“Oh, alright!” The humie shouted over everyone. “Y’all can come with me to make sure that I don’t screw up.” Everyone, especially Drax, Mantis, and Kraglin cheered. “But, Kraglin, you are to stay in the Milano when we go to Souplantation because of your lifetime ban from that establishment and you’re not allowed in the restaurant.” Kraglin pouted as they started towards the lobby.

Peter then noticed Rocket was still sitting down. “Rocket, are you coming?”

“Nah, Quill, I’m gonna wait for Groot.” The rodent responded. “Just get me an Original Chicken Sandwich from Chik-Fil-A. Extra pickles.” He said as Peter left.

Rocket sat alone in the room. He glanced at Groot’s new device that would enable him to talk again. He was curious as to how it worked. He turned it on and as soon as it was powered on, the “Settings” screen loaded up. The options, although complex-sounding to the average person, was simple to understand to a speech pathologist, or, if you were Rocket, a cybernetically-enhanced raccoon with a penchant towards the mechanical and how things worked.

After fiddling with the generic options, Rocket came across the option that was the most important: Voice. There were two options: “Boy” or “Girl”. After selecting “Boy”, Rocket played around with some of the words on the homescreen. After hitting a couple, he found out that the preprogrammed voices within the device sounded as if a little boy was trapped inside a robotic body. Rocket knew Groot wouldn’t like that and hoped that what Calina said about that voice merging software was true and that Groot could use it.

Rocket then saw a file called “Family and Friends”. He tapped on it and a bunch of touchscreen buttons came up, all with cartoon representations (for example, a Terran with a Zune for Peter, a Xandarian eating soup for Kraglin, etc.) of everyone that Groot knows, along with their names underneath. Rocket looked at where his name was and was disheartened. His button was represented by a generic raccoon. Rocket went into the settings and replaced the image with a image of himself with Groot. He also replaced everyone else’s. (He replaced Peter’s image of the time  that they went to Contraxia for vacation and Peter ended up getting a really nasty stomach bug.) He smiles at the memory.

Rocket tapped everyone’s button. For the most part, they said who the person was. Except for him. When Rocket pushed his name on the pad, it came back as “Rocket Raccoon.” Knowing Groot (both Original Groot and this Groot) would never add on the “Raccoon” part of his name, Rocket changed how his name was pronounced in the software. He then pressed Peter’s name and got an idea and ran with it.

After about five minutes fiddling with the settings, Rocket heard footsteps followed by a squeak and put the communication device back in its bag. A moment later, the door opened and in walked Calina and Azrik, who was pushing Groot. Groot’s wheelchair had the pole needed for his talker fully installed on the frame of it. Groot also had a fresh diaper on him and his feeding tube was hooked up to the formula bag that was hanging on the IV pole of his chair. A moment later, the rest of the Guardians came in, their fast food in hand. Peter handed Rocket his order and everyone began to eat. Drax and Kraglin (who worshipped the bag that said “Souplantation” on it) ate their food more voraciously than everyone else. After everyone was done eating, (and Azrik took Groot to have his feeding tube disconnected from the bag when all of it was gone.) the speech therapy session for Groot continued.

Calina took the communication device out of the bag and placed it on the stand and adjusted it so that Groot could easily use it. She then got it to the calibration page. “Groot, you’re going to see a big red dot go across the screen. I want you to follow that dot with your eyes until it goes away.” Groot grunted knowingly as the process of getting his eyes attuned to the talker began.

After about five minutes, the calibration process was complete and Groot was ready to use his talker.

“Alright, Groot, can you introduce yourself to everyone?” Calina encouraged Groot as the teenager’s excitement increased, finally being able to communicate with those that were the most important in his life.

“I am Groot.” The novelty soon wore off and Groot became upset as he heard the boyish robotic voice that was preprogrammed into the device.

“Groot, Groot, don’t cry.” Rocket tries to comfort Groot. He then looked at Calina. “Can we do that voice donation thingy that you talked about earlier?”

“Yes, yes we can and Groot would be a good candidate for it.” Calina stated as she got up and knelt next to Groot. “Groot, sweetie.” Groot looked at her in the eye. “You don’t like that voice?” Groot grunted his disapproval. “Alright, honey. Hey, I have some good news. If you don’t like that voice, I’ve got some good news. You can have a voice that sounds more like you.” Groot looked interested and confused, because he didn’t know how that’s possible. “You can pick anyone here and the three of us are going to go in the back where we’re going to record your voices and merge them together. So pick whose voice you want.”

Groot looks at everyone in the room. After a couple of minutes he decides on his father, Rocket, who happily accepts the request as they go into the recording room and re-emerge a half hour later.

After powering up Groot’s talker with his new voice that Rocket donated to him programmed into it, Groot was eager to try it out.

“Alright, Groot, I know that you want to do this so badly, so introduce yourself.” Calina said.

“I am Groot!” Groot’s eyes lit up as he heard his new voice, which was merged with his teenager voice and Rocket’s more wise-cracking Halfworlder accent. “I am Groot! I am Groot!”

“Good job, Groot!” Calina praises him. “Now, can you tell me who this is?” She asked as she pointed to Rocket.

Groot found Rocket’s picture on the talker and activated it. “DADDY!” He still couldn’t believe that he was able to communicate. (Calina explained that the talker gave Groot the ability to say more than just “I am Groot.”)

“Nice job, Groot.” Calina praised the teen yet again as he continued to name each of the Guardians.

Peter then noticed something weird with his icon on Groot’s device. “What’s up with my icon?” He asked.

“What?” Rocket acted like he didn’t know what the humie was talking about.

Drax then looked at the picture and let out a hearty laugh. “I remember that time! We all got drunk at that bar on Contraxia and you said that you could drink the most Contraxian Sunrises than the rest of us! Rocket obviously won that bet and after we got home, I held your head above what Rocket called a ‘porcelain throne’ which I didn’t get, it just looked like a toilet to me, not where a king or queen sits...” The Destroyer reminisced as Peter was even more embarrassed.

“How- how did anyone manage to even take a photo of that night?!?! Mantis was busy babysitting Groot, Nebula was on a mission to kill Thanos, Gamora went to the police station to bail Kraglin out of jail after he was loitering around a soup kitchen and acting like a homeless person, and you were busy holding my head over the toilet, and Rocket-.” Peter paused. “Rocket was at the casino gambling his ill-gotten gains away.” A realization then hit the Terran. He turned his attention to the raccoon. “Right, Rocket?”

“Yeah, Quill. How could I forget?” Rocket responded. “I won a bet with some guy in the casino and won 100 credits. I then snuck into his room later that night and stole his eye.” He then muttered to himself, “Even though the only way that I could sneak it out of Contraxia was up my-.” Gamora then slapped him.

“Tell the truth, Rocket.” Gamora ordered in her most stern voice.

“Oh, FINE!” Rocket snarled. “After I came back to the hotel room, I heard you throwing up in the bathroom. I then snuck into the vent and got a couple pictures of you puking. There, are you happy now?”

Peter was content. “Yes, Rocket, I am content.” He then turned to Calina. “Can you replace that image with a better one?”

Calina reached over to the stand where Groot’s talking device was and took it off. Groot wasn’t happy, but he managed to glance over Peter’s button and have the sensor detect his eye movement.

“SHUT UP, STAR-MUNCH!” Groot laughed as he heard his device do the talking for him.

“Groot, that’s not a nice thing to say.” Azrik reprimandedthe teenager as Groot formed tears in his eyes.

“Wait a second... I didn’t program his device to say that when he selected Peter’s name.” Calina stated as everyone looked at Rocket.

“What?” Rocket asked as he acted like he didn’t know what was going on. “You heard Groot yourselves.” He added as he took a bite of his chicken sandwich.

No one bought Rocket’s ruse.

“You were the only one in here when we went to go get lunch and Azrik and Calina tended to Groot. And you’re the only one out of all of us that is technologically inclined and that knows how to get around firewalls and other computer security enhancements in order to hack whatever it is that you feel like hacking into. So it must’ve been you that changed the settings in Groot’s talker.” Peter deduced.

Rocket tries to think of a comback. “Oh, FINE! I admit it, I was the one that switched around the settings and for that I’m sorry.” The raccoon apologizes.

“There, now was it that hard to admit your wrongs?” Peter said as he wrapped his arm around Rocket’ shoulder as the raccoon reluctantly nods.

The speech therapy session was now over for the day. Calina offered to take Groot’s communication device and change the settings back to normal. As soon as they left the speech therapy wing, Peter and the rest of the Guardians had to go back home for the night. They promised Rocket and Groot that they would be back later in the week.

As Groot was placed back in bed for the night and was getting tucked in, Rocket promises him that there will be no more lies kept from him or the other Guardians. No matter what.

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Read on Ao3.

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