#do you think her nursemaid told her in the beyond? that there was a friendly caveman whom they taught french

[jameszmaguire]

I love how BBC Ghosts once a series is like 'and here's a new flavour of Robin being the most tragic character you will ever see' and it brings me to tears every single time

[dreamwritesimagines]

Crown Of Hearts 4- Nightmares [Ivar x Reader]

A.N.: Hello my darlings! Here is the next chapter, I hope you’ll like it! Kisses! <3

Summary: Nightmares can be a sign.

Characters: Ivar x Reader, Ubbe x Torvi, Hvitserk, Bjorn

Warnings: Explicit language, mentions of violence and blood, mentions of sex and arranged marriage, please read with care. Also, friendly reminder that  I don’t condone any of the messed up stuff happening on the show or in here.

Word Count: 1945

Due to the linking issue, you can reach the other chapters on my masterlist!

Gif’s not mine!

“I heard that their army isn’t that powerful, and their defenses over here,” Bjorn pointed at the map, as you paced in the room with Ragnar in your arms, softly patting his back while he hiccupped, “My friend from there says there’s a secret entrance there.”

“How many men would we need?”

“Perhaps one hundred?” Bjorn said, “One hundred and fifty?”

“I thought you said this was a small one, Bjorn.”

“The country itself is small.” Bjorn said, “You know it as much as I do that we shouldn’t underestimate anyone, Hvitserk.”

“Which means it can take longer than expected.” Hvitserk said, and Bjorn pulled his brows together,

“What? Are you suddenly uncomfortable with the idea of leaving home for long?”

Ivar grinned, looking between them and you shot him a look.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Yes he is.” Ivar said, “It feels difficult for him, does it not Hvitserk?”

“Ivar…”

“We all need to make some compromises brother.”

“Bjorn, let him be,” Bree said as Hvitserk looked almost sulky, “He does not want to be away from Gala and leave her here, it is understandable.”

“I missed the birth of my child for a raid,” Ivar raised his hand, “In case anybody forgot about that. Because Y/N doesn’t let me forget.”

“I never said you should use that against Hvitserk.” You pointed out and Hvitserk nodded,

“Also, you made the way back here a torture for us and the whole crew. That’s hardly making a sacrifice.”

Ivar made a face, “I missed the birth of my son, Hvitserk!”

“I still think he has a point,” Bree said airily, and you knew that tone way too well by now, “I mean Hvitserk will be away on a raid, who knows what could happen here?”

Hvitserk blinked a couple of times, “What could happen here?” he repeated and Bree shrugged,

“Well, Gala is very beautiful and unmarried,” she said, making you purse your lips and bury your nose into Ragnar’s hair to keep them from seeing your smile, “Although your feelings are sincere, she’s a free woman. She may find out that she wants to get married to someone while you’re away.”

You really liked watching Bree play her mind games, to be honest. It was almost like a fisherman’s work, patient, attentive, and just sure when to pull back the hook.

“She wouldn’t get married while I’m away,” Hvitserk’s voice sounded almost doubtful of himself and Bree shook her head,

“Of course not,” she said, “I’m just saying anything could happen if she doubted your intentions, while you’re away on a raid. So you’re absolutely right with having doubts about this raid, Hvitserk.”

She might as well have yelled at him to ask Gala to marry him, but none of the men in the room had any more idea about what she was playing at than Ragnar who was silently dozing off in your arms.

“I… Excuse me,” Hvitserk pushed his seat back and left the room, making Bjorn shake his head slightly.

“Great.”

“I still think we need to wait for Ubbe and Torvi to come back.” You said, “Do you think Hvitserk would curse my whole existence if I called for Gala right now?”

“I would say so.”

“I will just put Ragnar into his crib and come back,” you said, and Bree followed you out of the room as you made your way to Ragnar’s room the guards stepping aside for you.

“He’s adorable, is he not?” Bree asked fondly and you smiled wide, fixing Ragnar’s hair as he sucked on his thumb,

“He is.” You whispered, “Sometimes I forget we do all this for him. And it scares me.”

“What scares you?”

“We-“ you shook your head, heaving a deep sigh, “We’re creating this whole kingdom for him, aren’t we? Ivar and I, we’re making sure that he will have more than any prince, he will have the whole world.”

“I know that. It will be your legacy.”

“But don’t you think he’s too….little?”

“It’s not as if he will start ruling now, my sweet.”

“I know that,” you muttered, “It’s just that, he- he will constantly be in this power struggle, Bree. He’s not even a year old, and there’s already more raids, more lands, more gold, more everything, for his future.”

“That’s what you wanted, Y/N.” Bree reminded you, “From the beginning. He will conquer the world, remember?”

You nodded, “Does it sound familiar to you then?” you asked and a shadow crossed Bree’s eyes,

“You cannot be thinking that.”

“That’s what my family wanted of Edgard.” You told her, “Also what they wanted of me. It was all about power.”

“It’s different, and you know that.”

“Do I though?” you asked and Bree squeezed your arm,

“I’ll tell you one thing you didn’t have when you and Edgard were growing up. Something entirely different, something Ragnar has.”

You pulled your brows together, “What is that?”

“Parents like you and Ivar.” Bree smiled, and pulled you out of the room, “Trust me. You two could not be more different than your parents even if you tried.”

“I hope so.” You said and Bree cleared her throat,

“That being said, there is something we must talk of.”

That made you stop dead on your tracks, “What? What is it, what happened?”

“Nothing bad, I just wanted to…well, get your approval, seeing that you’re the queen.”

You gasped and covered your mouth with your hands, your heart beating like crazy with excitement, “You and Bjorn are getting married!”

“No!” Bree shook her head slightly, “No no no! Nothing like that, I’m just- I wish to join the next raid.”

You blinked dumbly and lowered your hands, “What?”

“If it’s not very soon, that is.”

“A raid? You- you will go on a raid?”

“With Bjorn, yes. He has been teaching me the ways of fighting, in battle.”

“On an actual raid?” You felt the need to repeat, and she nodded,

“Yes.”

“Oh my God, it’s the Bjorn influence isn’t it? All his lovers somehow turned into warriors, it is like a curse-“

“No!” Bree said, letting out a laugh, “I have just been thinking lately. Of how many things I have missed back home. I was raised properly, did everything that was expected of me, became Edgard’s mistress, but now to think of it, I don’t believe any of the things I’ve done until I decided to stay here was my choice. My own choice.”

“I’m glad it was.” You said softly, “But a raid, Bree….”

“I wish to be free, Y/N.” she cut you off, “I had everything except for freedom, and now I’m… I wish to be free. I wish to see the world beyond our home and here, I wish to see the deserts and great lakes and different animals. I wish to see everything.”

You blinked back the tears and pulled her into a tight hug, nodding slowly,

“Promise me you will not go until you know how to fight.” You sniffled, “Promise me you will not be harmed, and that you will come back.”

“When have I ever put myself in danger just for the sake of it, Y/N?” Bree muttered, “I will make sure I can survive before I fight, I always do, remember?”

You took a shaky breath and pulled back to smile at her,

“By the Gods, it will be so boring without you here.” You tried to laugh, “I’m afraid you all like to leave me here alone way too much.”

Bree shook her head, “Temporarily, your majesty,” she joked, “After all, it is my duty to come back to the Queen of Kattegat, is it not?”

“It definitely is your duty.” You tried to smile, “In fact, it’s a direct order. You are not to get harmed in any battle.”

“You have my word.” Bree dropped a curtsy, then linked her arm through yours and you both started walking back to the map room.

                                                             ***

Your body was floating in a pool of blood and no matter how much you tried not to sink into it, it was useless. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the posters of your bed but no matter how much you tried to scream, you couldn’t. You raised your arms and suddenly, the room changed into a battlefield, accompanied by winged horses and many women riding into the field as falcons followed them-

You gasped and opened your eyes, your senses coming back to you, wrapping you in safety. Ivar moved beside you, and rolled onto his back but didn’t wake up when you remained motionless for a couple of seconds. The woods burning in the fireplace reached your ears and you took a deep breath before you raised your hands to rub at your eyes.

This happened way too many times. Every time Eitr was away from you, your sleep was full of nightmares and darkness.

You’re safe, you tried to convince yourself and calm your heartbeat down, Everything is fine, you’re safe.

You heaved a deep sigh, and left the bed as silently as you could, approaching the window to take a look outside.

“I will have none of that nonsense.” Your mother’s voice was like a whip and you kept your gaze on the ground, “Do you hear me? Ever again.”

“Yes mother.”

“Look at me,” she said and you bit on your lip, then looked up at her. “You’re lucky Edgard told me. Where was your nursemaid?!”

“She was talking with someone, mother.”

“And I suppose you thought that was permission for you to sneak into your father’s war council to listen to what they were saying?”

“Edgard is allowed to attend them.” You mumbled, your fingers gripping at the laces of your skirt, “I merely assumed- I was not  going to talk, I was just going to-“

“Edgard is the crown prince.” Your mother cut you off, “He needs to be in those meetings in order to learn the war business. It is very important for a ruler.”

“But I will rule as well.”

Your mother scoffed, “You will help your future husband to rule.”

“But-“

“You will not be involved in decisions in terms of war.”

“But I think if I was allowed to join in the meetings, I could be involved in such decisions.”

Your mother pinched the bridge of her nose, “These men have been in battlefield, they have fought the enemy.”

“I do not have to be in the battlefield to form a strategy.”

“You will not form a strategy!” your mother snapped, then regained her control, “You do not have time for this. Your dance tutor awaits.”

You were pulled out of your thoughts when a sudden noise startled both you and Ivar. Ivar grabbed his dagger from under his pillow and you stared at the window for a second, as Eitr hit the glass with her wings again, as if she was rabid.

“Eitr, what-?” you asked as you opened the window and she dived straight into the room, as a terrible feeling sunk into you.

“Something is wrong,” you whispered and as if on cue the yelling from the hall reached inside. Ivar put down the dagger and took his axe as you rushed to the door but before you could reach there, it was already open and Gala was breathing hard,

“My Queen!” she said as soon as Eitr flew over her shoulder into the hall, and you ran to her,

“What? What is it?”

“The- the prince.” She said through sobs, and you could swear your blood turned into ice, fear knocking the breath off you, “The prince has disappeared.”

                                                        ***

Special thanks to: @nympha-door-a  @theskytraveler @iblogabout-stuff @mamaraptor @vikrone @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @asongofmarvelanddc @not–even-a-real–fan @alicedopey @thorohdamnson @captstefanbrandt @flowers-in-your-hayr @marauderskeeper @badbitsh13@superwolfchild-fan @mblaqgi  @m00nlightdelights @marvelsvalhalla @natalielbeauty @pandalandalopalis @alyssiamarierenee @bloodyivar  , @eleanorsparkz    @illumminated @itsjoshebelbitch @hangirl93 @mersers-moonypadfoot-prongs @skadithegoddess   @geekandbooknerd @supercarricat @sky-daybreak @athroatfullofglass @blushingskywalker @little-froggy @girlwhoisfearless @aikeji @part-time-patronus @actuallyazriel @rhabakoli @lizblinder @finnickfoxes and lovely anons! You are amazing! <3

[seigephoenix]

Aftermath

Despite the title, this has some fluff content.  FShep x Zaeed.  Non-canon backstory Shep.

Marlowe clenched her jaw stubbornly as she felt the pain shooting through her body.  It was six months after the end of the Reaper War, and the galaxy was putting itself back together.  Marlowe Shepard was spending the time trying to get herself back together.  She knew things would be hard, but she had the idle thought that Hell Week was a cakewalk compared to this.  She remembered the sense of completion after shooting the panel and giving the Star Brat the figurative finger.  It had been an exhilaration to see the fury on the AI’s holographic face as she was knocked back by the explosions.  Her last thoughts were her own, the constant buzzing of whispers had been gone.  She’d had a sneaky suspicion that the Reapers had been slowly trying to indoctrinate her.  The nightmares, the voices that whisper to her, had become clear in the moments when The Illusive Man had taken control over her body.  The Reapers had put their hopes into her as well, ever since that first lone fight against Saren. No, since she’d spoken to them on Virmire.

Sweat beaded on her skin as she gripped the rails beside her in a death grip.  The voices weren’t of her friends and loved ones, they were the Reapers.  The Reapers whispering her worst doubts and fears to her, every decision she ever made had been thrown in her face.  When that became clear as The Illusive Man used the Reapers to take control of her implants, her stubborn side came out in full rage.  She turned on him through sheer will and shot him dead.  There could have been a chance to redeem him, but then she remembered the files on Akuze.  The faces of her lost teammates, the ones eaten by the maws, flashed through her mind.  It had been relatively easy to pull the trigger, looking back.  For her team that had been killed due to his organization’s experiments, it seemed fitting she was the one that had taken the shot.

Marlowe willed herself to take that first step.  That first step seemed so huge and daunting.  Her left leg had been lost in the damage from her fall in the Crucible.  Her left arm below the elbow as well, but the prosthetic for that was adapting better than her leg.  It reacted to her nerves much easier than her leg and Marlowe was getting much better at using it.  She still got the pain that she was told was normal.  Normal her ass, it still hurt like a bitch.  She’d take that pain and make it hers, it reminded her the Reapers had not won.  They, humanity and all the other races that banded together, had won.  The galaxy no longer had a looming death clock anymore.

“Damn it Shepard.  You were supposed to wait for a nurse to get back.”  Marlowe laughed as she heard the petulant tone in his voice.  Hearing a friendly voice lifted her spirits, especially since he’d been a constant pain in her ass.

“Still playing my nursemaid Vega?”  She leaned against the railing, propping her chin on her hand as she watched the big Marine enter the room.  The first steps being forgotten temporarily as Vega shuffled around with coffee and breakfast.  Her stomach growled as the tantalizing smells reached her.  He snorted.

“Hardly but I don’t want to get my ass kicked by your merc boyfriend because you got hurt on my watch.”  At the mention of Zaeed, Marlowe felt her heart flutter.  He’d been there when she woke up.  You can’t be the one girlfriend to break the streak of trying to kill me.  Wake up damn it!  Marlowe told him to quit yelling or she really would try to kill him.  She remembered his next words with clarity, it still sent a trill of heat through her.  That’s my sweetheart.  Now let’s get you up.  She’d been making progress every day for the past six months to get to where she was.  Her spine had been fractured and had to heal before she could try putting weight on it.  One doctor had informed her she would never walk again, he’d been thrown out of her room by everyone in it.  Every single crew member and friend she had made all told that doctor where to shove his opinion.  Marlowe herself threatened to kick his ass if he didn’t get out of her room.

Miranda had informed her that she had redone her implants but without any Cerberus tech this time.  Miranda privately whispered that Zaeed had been particularly adamant that she not use Cerberus tech.  Vega was her physical therapy buddy since he had the uncanny ability to tap into that stubborn streak she had.  Zaeed stayed with her when he wasn’t needed for reconstruction.  Marlowe focused her eyes on Vega and they narrowed at the nervous shifting of his eyes.  “What are you up to James Vega?”  He pointed at himself in a Who me?  Marlowe glared at him and arched one eyebrow.

“Spill it Vega.  Or I’ll tell that pretty nurse that you flex in front of the mirror when you think no one is looking.”  He grumbled and shifted his weight around.  It looked as if he was weighing the options and consequences in his head.  His arms crossed as he shook his head.  

“No can do Lola.  Sworn to secrecy.”

“So it is something.”  Marlowe tapped her finger against her lips as her mind whirled with possibilities.  “Tell me Vega.”  She demanded as her body straightened and wobbled a bit as her body tried to regain its balance.

“If you can make it over to me on your own maybe I will.”  Vega teased and Marlowe sucked in a breath to steel herself against the excruciating effort.  She moved slowly and could feel Vega’s eyes on her.  Her eyes stayed on her legs, making sure to put one in front of the other.  Her foot moved and then she concentrated on the prosthetic.  The synthetic foot twitched and finally moved a step.  Her eyes shot up to Vega and he looked amazed.

“Hold up on that just yet Lola.  The nurse is on her way.  Please?”  There was a note in his voice that had her freeze.  She nodded and leaned against the railing.  It had been about a week since Zaeed had been there, and she missed him.  Missed hearing him tell the nurses that if they wanted him out of her hospital bed, they’d have to drag him out.  Missed hearing the stories he told her that lulled her to sleep.  She especially missed him being there when the nightmares struck in the night, his comforting arms sliding around her warm and comforting.  

“Come on Vega.  You know I hate surprises.”  Shepard whined as Vega shook his head.  The door opened and she turned with an exasperated huff.  “About time.”  She froze as she recognized the man standing in the doorway.  Tall, always so tall, broad shouldered, and the salt and pepper hair.  It had once been as deep red as her own.  His eyes that she remembered shining with mischief as he and she got up to shenanigans when she was a child had more lines around them.  “Dad?”  

“Marlowe.  You were supposed to wait for a nurse, but patience has never been your strongest trait.”  Her father, Admiral Kenneth Shepard, strode over to her as she straightened.  “Has it baby girl?”  Marlowe laughed at the nickname.  He had once told her she would be sixty and he’d still call her his baby girl.  

“How?  I thought you and Mom.”  Marlowe paused at the flash of pain in her dad’s face.  “Mom isn’t here is she?”  Her father shook his head and held out his arm for her.  Marlowe reached out and grabbed his forearm with her right hand.  “I’m glad you made it Dad.”  

“And I’m glad you did.  I heard about the disaster that the ground assault was.  We heard there were no survivors and then, then, we all heard your voice.  Hackett almost had a coronary when you asked what you needed to do.”  Vega watched as Marlowe took a step as her Dad spoke.  He kept his lips sealed as the two caught up.  “I almost had a coronary when your name came across the lines.  ‘Shepard!  We have Shepard!’  I can’t tell you how much that meant.”  Kenneth grinned as they made it to the end of the railing.  Marlowe jolted as the railing slipped from her fingers and she looked down to see they’d gone beyond it.

“What?”  Kenneth chuckled and she glanced up at her father.

“You always did overthink things dear girl.  Occupy your mind with something else and you’d manage to overcome anything.”  Vega burst out laughing and the elder Shepard looked at the Marine, who clapped a hand over his mouth.  “Now.  Let’s go.  There is someone else who wants to see you.”

Marlowe glanced out the door and saw Zaeed standing there.  Looking distinctly uncomfortable in his casual clothes.  Jeans and a dark shirt.  She let go of her father’s arm and walked over to him.  Worry flashed in his eyes as she stopped in front of him.  “So you found my Dad?”

“Vega opened his bloody mouth didn’t he?”

“I am being falsely accused!”  Came the reply from the therapy room.  Kenneth chuckled at the protest.

“You were gone a week.  I figured something was up,” Marlowe explained.  “Don’t blame Vega.  I even threatened him and he kept his mouth shut.”

“I figured he’d crumple.  Shocking,” Zaeed grumbled as Marlowe put her hand on his arm to keep her balance.  He instinctively covered her hand with his.  Marlowe grinned at him.

“You’re just a big softie.  Admit it.”  Marlowe laughed at the disgruntled expression on his face.  

Kenneth watched his daughter with the grizzled mercenary.  He wouldn’t have picked Zaeed Massani out for her, but he saw the light in her eyes.  Those eyes so much like her mother’s shined with the same emotion he would see in Hannah’s eyes.  His daughter lit up when that man came into the room.  If Zaeed made her happy, then he’d let her be.  All he wanted was for her to be happy.

“How would you feel if I told you that we got permission for you to leave?”

“Leave?  Leave the hospital?”  Zaeed nodded.  “When!?  I don’t care how you got the cage unlocked.”  Marlowe wrapped her arms around Zaeed, pressing her cheek against his chest.  

“Now.  I even got your apartment finished.”

“Wait.  That big one that Anderson left me?”  Zaeed nodded as she tilted her face up to him.  “How?  I didn’t think Zakera Ward was a priority?”

Vega laughed and spoke up from the doorway.  “It wasn’t.  Until your boyfriend rounded up the crew and between us we had more than enough leverage to get the complex fixed.”  Vega grinned as Zaeed shot him a glare over Marlowe’s head.

“And now he opens his bloody mouth.  Arsehole.”  Vega held up his hands at Zaeed’s grumbling insults.  Marlowe smiled and leaned back.

“Let’s go home.”

“Anything for you sweetheart.”  Vega made a face and Kenneth coughed to cover up a laugh.  “You’re not invited.”  Zaeed pointedly told Vega.

“No problems here.”  Vega backed away and Kenneth told Marlowe he would visit the next day.  Zaeed looked down at Marlowe after the others left.

“Are you going to tell them?”  Marlowe’s eyes danced with mischief as he shook his head.  No one knew but Marlowe suspected they all had a feeling something was up.  The glint of silver on her dogtag chain drew his attention.  The simple band wasn’t anything fancy, she only wanted simple.  Fancy wasn’t their style.  “I suppose we should let Tali know it’s okay to tell since she was our witness and all.”  Marlowe tilted her face up and he leaned down to press his lips against hers.  She sighed and fisted her hands in his shirt as he lifted his head.  

“Then take me home.  So we can see if they fixed the hot tub?”  Her grin had him chuckling.  He didn’t want to spoil everything.  It had been a long six months, and he was sure she’d forgive him for what he had planned.  Hopefully.  It would take some persuading but he was good with his hands.

[cathcacen]

Broken Bones

Anarei petitions Strahan to fix Lear up post-war. Prompt and some help with Lear’s dialogue/information from @phylophe, with whom I share this AU and our Canon-Verse. XD

Maika is sick. He’s been running around all day, and between ferrying his kid to the Peds clinic and back to his own practice, he’s exhausted. There’s some light throbbing in his temple that suggests he’s had either too much or too little coffee, so when Rei shows up unexpectedly in his office later in the afternoon, he’s more than a little wary and concerned.

“How was England?” He shoves a mug of tea across his desk to her, then leans back in his leather chair, pinching at the bridge of his nose.

“Pretty good.” She wraps her fingers around the tea. Despite having just returned from a holiday, she looks exhausted – perhaps jetlagged, he reasons. Still, there’s a softness about her, warmth in her eyes and joy in her smile. “I got Maika some lavender shortbread.”

He smiles tiredly. “Thanks. I take it you had a good time, then?”

“Yeah.” Anarei takes a sip of her tea, wrinkles her nose, and sets the mug back down. “You okay? You look like you’ve had a long day.”

He groans. “Maika has the flu and the nanny is off on some island vacation this week. I had to cancel three appointments – that was fun. She’s fine, anyway, and I’ve dropped her off back home so Mother can watch her.” There had been traffic between the house, the clinic, and his practice, too. He’s certain he’s spent at least three hours on the road.

It’s worth it. Maika comes first.

“That’s good. I’ll bring the biscuits by later. Mother wants to have tea.” She studies him for a moment, and it occurs to him that he hasn’t seen her this at ease in quite a while now. There’s something different.

He raises a brow. “So, what’s up? I know that face.”

She blinks innocently at him, and the smile resurfaces – just a hint of amusement lingering at the way her lips curl, and the slightly shy and wholly coy manner in which she lowers her gaze to the hands folded over the edge of his desk. “Can’t I call in on my favourite brother to say hello? I did just get back from a trip abroad, you know.”

“Mmhmm.” He nudges her heeled boot with the tip of his loafer. “You say that to Ethan all the time, so I call bullshit. You look happy. Did you do something dirty?”

She bites her lip.

“Oh my god. You met someone.”

“No!” She tries for indignance, but her smile betrays the sentiment. “Well, not exactly. I reconnected with someone in England.”

“You say reconnected, but I’m thinking something else.” He can’t help but to grin at his sister.

As far as he knows, she hadn’t dated anyone with actual intentions since her incident. I’m not ready, she’d said – and no one had thought to push her beyond the occasional well-meant blind date.

Nothing had come of them, anyway.

“There was some reconnecting, and now there’s some introducing.” She peers at him, straightening in her chair. “I’m asking you in a professional capacity. Doctor-patient confidentiality protects what I’m about to say.”

“You’re not the patient, though.” He frowns. “I thought we were through with all the secrecy anyway.”

She looks at her hands again, and the answer suddenly becomes clear to him. “Rei, no.” There’s warning in his voice – not him again.

He remembers it all. He remembers storming the under bowels of the base in which she’d been held as a prisoner of war, and he remembers the way she’d stared at him through half-lidded eyes, dazed and confused behind rusted cell bars. She’d stared and stared, and it wasn’t until they’d broken into the room to get to her that he’d realised she was looking for someone else.

The Wound Man. Lieutenant Sagen.

He grits his teeth. She’d cried when she realised Sagen wasn’t there. After all, he was the person she was most desperate to see.

The sound of her broken sobs are still fresh in his mind.

“I love him, Hans. And he loves me.” She quirks a small smile at him. “I know you worry, but the war’s over.”

“You know, I didn’t tell anyone back then because I thought it was over – that thing you had going on with him.” She’d never directly confirmed nor denied his suspicions. “It was him, wasn’t it? All those years in the army, all those trips you went on – you were going with him.”

Her smile softens, and it occurs to him that he’s never seen her this smitten. It’s an unusual expression on her face, but the joy suits her. “We spoke in brief, after Dzisna. And now that the war is over, we’re free. We can be together.”

He’s come home to you, huh?

He lets out a tired sigh. “You sure you can trust him? You went from being his designated doctor, to complete strangers again, to being his nursemaid from some mission-gone-bad, to sobbing for him on a hospital bed. How sure are you he’s not going to leave you again?” He lowers his voice, leaning closer. “And what about his job? The one that turned him into a meat patty?”

He trusts her to understand his meaning – Sagen is more than just a Lieutenant. There has to be some unfinished business somewhere.

The job doesn’t end until the man does.

She shakes her head – a little too earnestly. “We’re done with that – with the war, with the secrets. I trust him.” Her voice softens further, and she reaches out to take his hands. “I need you to trust me, now.”

“You were waiting for him, weren’t you?” A part of him is impressed. The other part wonders why he hadn’t seen this coming. I should’ve known. “Are you sure you’re okay, though? Being with him, does it bring back… memories you’d rather not relive?”

She squeezes his hands, and he’s relieved to see the clarity in her eyes. “We’ve both been screwed by the war, Hans. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be okay together.”

It had taken some cajoling and a few stories of her time with the Wound Man. He’d wanted a clearer picture of their relationship before he agreed to take on the case. She told him as much as she was at liberty to tell – they’d met when she was still a Second Lieutenant midway through med school, and had kept up a friendly relationship the entire time she was assigned as his doctor in the field.

Their relationship had soured when it became clear he cared too little, and her, too much. She’d returned home for some conventional medical experience, and had proceeded to forget about him for the next two years. Eventually, physically broken up into a human manifestation of The Wound Man and badly in need of rehabilitation and therapy, he’d sought her out at the teaching hospital where she was due to take her medical boards exam. They’d grown closer over the following months, and that had led to them dating throughout her second deployment, up until the bombings at Hrodna and her subsequent imprisonment at Dzisna.

“Your life really is a Greek tragedy, isn’t it?”

“The only tragedy currently bothering me is my unnecessarily overprotective big brother.” She’d shot back.

He’d finally agreed to her request when she’d made it clear she wasn’t asking as his sister, but as a colleague with a vested interest in his medical career.

“The legendary Wound Man, Hans. Are you sure you want me to pass his case back to Dr. Keller? You’d be missing out.”

The cutting-edge Orthopedic implants fitted inside the man had been the subject of much discussion among heavyweights in his field for close to a decade.

She’d handed him the patient chart, lips curled in a smug sort of smile.

It isn’t until he meets The Wound Man himself that he realises he must’ve rubbed off on his sister more than he’d thought.

“Call me Lear.” The man holds out a hand; he shakes it begrudgingly, then pulls up a chair and sits down. They’d admitted him into the hospital hours before to get all the preliminary check-ups out of the way, and his chart is thick with newly-printed results. “And you must be Lieutenant Colonel Tandhekar.”

“Doctor.” He peers over at the other. “The war’s over, and as your girlfriend, my sister says, we’re all free to be ourselves now.” He uses the word deliberately. “Call me Strahan.”

Lear simply smiles in response.

“Perfect.” He flips open the chart, seeking out the pages his sister had once sent him - those filled with familiar designs he’d studied multiple times over the years. They’re beautiful. “Tell me about the implants. Dr Keller e-mailed the designs from your old implants, so if you’ve no complaints, we’ll go about manufacturing new ones exactly the same way. Unless of course, you need some modifications made, in which case - what can you tell me about the person who designed these?”

He can’t help asking - after all, that particular question has weighed heavily upon his mind for years now. Who designed the parts that helped this man to walk again?

“My mechanic?” Lear tilts his head, then supplies, with a bit of a smirk, “He’s a short, pretty bookworm with a wide forehead and droopy eyes.”

“Mechanic?” He raises a brow. Right, this one’s got a mouth on him. Rei had implied about as much. He recognises the obnoxious lilt - from the deeper reaches of memory, he remembers hearing the same voice teasing his sister. Aww, Naveau, you think I’m a work of art?

He peers at the man. “Right, the man who engineered your parts.” Mechanic indeed. How disrespectful.

“He likes to work from the ground-up - look straight at the anatomy first, see what he can come up with by himself, before referring to existing designs. He’s got a few generic ones of his own making by now.” Lear gestures towards the chart in his hands. “You’ve got some of them in there, too.”

“Well, considering your anatomy is pretty messed up at the moment…” He quirks his lip a bit. “I’d like to take a few scans and do some 3D imaging to have a better idea of what we’ll be dealing with in there. Also, I read in your chart that you got shot last year?”

“Bullet’s still in there.” Lear points to his shoulder. There’s a bit of a shit-eating grin on his face. He wonders, if only for a moment, exactly what his sister sees in the man. “My mechanic didn’t want to deal with it, so you’ll have to do the dirty work.”

“We’ll be replacing that entirely.” He glances down at the design specifications for the shoulder piece, noting the instructions for construction. “I also see here that your current parts are made of riskier, more reactive alloys. I’d recommend switching it up, so you don’t run the risk of rejection - your girlfriend’s brought me up to speed on your history, so we’ll also have to monitor you closely for post-op complications.”

That gets a smile out of Lear - one more genuine, he thinks. “That’s what my mechanic said, yeah. He recommended replacing the reactive alloys with lighter, more inert materials now that I’m retired from active combat.”

“Hm.” He flips the pages, scanning through the rest of the designs, then closes the binder and sets it aside. “We’ll get to work, then. Do you have any questions regarding the surgery? Any concerns?”

“Nah.” Lear leans back in his bed. “My mechanic explained most of it well enough. Something about him making sure the parts would stay in place by designing them so my muscles and blood vessels grow over and into them.” He brightens, his grin taking on a slightly sheepish cast as he lets out a vaguely uncomfortable laugh. “Apparently it’s not just a matter of putting the drill on reverse and ripping out the parts.”

“You don’t say.” He purses his lips and fights back the desire to smack the man upside the head. “I didn’t go through eight years of college and med school to drill on reverse and rip out parts.”

Lear chuckles heartily. “Good to know, Doctor.”

He’s halfway to the door by the time Lear calls out. When he turns around, the man asks, “Out of interest - which one are you looking forward to the most?”

The excitement bubbles within. He’s looked forward to this for a long time; to work with the designs of Lear’s so-called-mechanic is to work in the future. “Couldn’t say. I am eager to get you on the road to recovery, though. I think my sister deserves better days ahead with the man she loves in one piece instead of five, don’t you?”

Lear’s gaze softens a bit. There it is. That’s what she sees. “Yeah.”

“I’ll see you later, then.”

He makes his way downstairs. His sister’s inconvenient relationship aside, the Wound Man’s body houses actual medical works of art.

He’s excited - but even moreso, he’s honoured to work with them. One step closer to tomorrow’s medicine.

He gets right to it.