#finally able to properly discuss the mood shift as the family is being more open abt it

[midnightsconspiracy]

Out Of The Blue

Out of the Blue - @midnightsconspiracy

Summary: After experiencing a hard day at work, your boyfriend decides to treat you to some of your favourite things. Although he may or may not have another surprise in store for you

Warnings: Non-Major Character Death

Word Count: 1683

Requested: Yes!

'What about one in which one of them had a horrible day at work and the other found out and decided to prepare a little surprise to make the day better? Just fluffy thing?'

A/N: Keep sending in your requests whilst my inbox is open and drop me a message if you're bored, id love to talk to some of you about Chicago PD, Med or Fire!! :)

Masterlist

Working at Chicago Med was stressful, to say the least. Every day was filled with what felt like hundreds of patients, running around to make sure you were taking care of them to the best of your ability. For the most part being an ED doctor with fulfilling, seeing people come in sick and come out good as new. But other times it was draining, either from being swept off your feet every minute of the day or doing all that you could for a person and it still not being enough. That was what had happened today.

You were content as you entered the ED that morning, having spent the night at your boyfriend’s. Everything about your relationship was absolutely perfect, with everyone around you noticing your positive change of mood since getting together with Hank. Walking towards the nurse's station to log into a computer, Maggie and April came over to greet you, both commenting on the large grin that plastered your face.

“Someones happy,” April teased, watching your cheeks glow, as you looked down in mock embarrassment.

“Couldn’t have anything to do with the Sergeant boyfriend of yours could it?” Maggie lowered her head as well, trying to catch your eyes to find the truth within them. Opening your mouth to reply, you were interrupted by an incoming patient being wheeled on a gurney, the paramedics beside it holding a grim look on their faces.

The patient turned out to be a six-year old girl, she had suffered severe trauma to multiple areas of her body, including broken ribs, a collapsed lung and a mild concussion. You immediately took the case, being the only ED doctor available at the moment, but also specialising in paediatrics alongside Dr Manning. Looking the girl over, you noted each of her injures, seeing it was consistent with a severe car accident, and proceeding to insert a needle into her lung to allow it to re-inflate, before sending her upstairs to the OR for surgery. To an adult, the injuries wouldn’t have been fatal, but for a girl this size, the extent of the trauma didn’t bode well for her chances of survival. Praying for her as she was wheeled up to surgery, you felt a tear come to your eye, hoping that this little girl would actually be able to live her life to the fullest. An hour had passed and you still hadn’t heard any news on the little girl, so instead of dwelling on it, you busied your mind, taking any patients Maggie would give you, from a broken leg to a baby with a fever. But finally, as you were leaving a low-level emergency case, your pager buzzed, signalling you to the PICU, nodding to Maggie on the way up, knowing it would be the girl who had just come out of surgery. Speaking to her surgeon, you waited for her anaesthetic to wear off, knowing it wouldn’t be too long because of the low dosage she was given. It seemed as though she had no family with her, either injured or dead from the car wreck and so you sat by her bed, not wanting her to be alone when she finally woke up.

As she woke, you held her hand, introducing yourself, trying to make her as comfortable as you could. You spoke to her for a long time, completely forgetting about your other duties downstairs, instead, trying to make her laugh, telling stories and attempting to get her to recall the events that had happened earlier that day. Building trust was important to you, knowing she would need someone who she was happy with before all the other doctors and DCFS got involved. But time got cut short as your pager once again demanded you downstairs to deal with another patient. Quickly saying goodbye, you dashed downstairs to deal a man with a GSW to the abdomen. Checking his wound thoroughly, you tended to it before sending him to specialists upstairs. Content with the job you had done, you continued with your work in the ED.

After your shift had finished, you headed upstairs to say a final goodnight to the girl, bringing a small teddy with you that you had purchased in the gift shop, hoping it would keep her company overnight before you returned the next day. But as you walked towards her room something didn’t seem right. The lights were turned off, the bed empty. Maybe she had just been moved to a different room or ward, you thought to yourself, knowing there was probably a good explanation for this. Turning towards the nurse on duty behind the desk, you questioned her on the whereabouts of your new friend.

“Didn’t you hear? She coded and was pronounced dead an hour ago. Sorry Doctor Y/LN, I thought someone would have told you already.” Staring at the women, your mouth dropped open, stumbling backwards a bit to brace yourself on the doorway behind. Tears fell from your eyes, why would the universe allow an innocent young child to be taken so earlier in their life? Moving back downstairs you felt numb, just wanting this tragic day to be over. You texted Hank telling him you were on your way back and that you had the most horrible day, not going into any details on how or why.

Unbeknownst to you, Hank was already preparing your favourite meals, as he knew you were already getting increasingly stressed at work when your text came in. He felt bad for you, knowing the type of tragedies you saw daily, experiencing similar in his line of work, completely aware of the repercussions people felt being surrounded by death constantly. On top of making dinner for you, your text had prompted him to drove to the store in order to go above and beyond to try and boost your mood, buying things he knew would make your day better. Returning home he had about ten minutes before you would be back to try and set everything up, rushing about the house making sure every individual detail was perfect for your return. The table was prepared beautifully, accessorised with fancy silverware and candles, that were flickering slowly, ready and waiting to provide you with a romantic dinner. He had bought you a bouquet of your favourite flowers, already placed in a vase of water so you wouldn’t have to deal with the fuss of it on your arrival, and rose petals scattered along the floor in the direction of the table to add an extra romantic touch. Finally, he had one more surprise for you, hidden away in his back pocket, one that was guaranteed to make you smile.

Pulling into the driveway you exited your car, noting the darkness within the house, uncommon for this time of night and the fact that Hank had said he would be in all evening. Opening the door you called out to him, hoping that he hadn’t been pulled into another case, spending the night in his office once again. But as you took off your coat to place it on the hook you noticed the flowers on the table, to be specific your favourite flowers. You called out to him again, hoping he would appear to explain what was happening. Looking up, he stood in the doorway, a slight smile on his face, as you finally looked round properly noticing the rose petals, candles and your favourite food on the table.

“You did this all for me?” You asked.

“Of course I did sweetheart, I know you’ve had it hard at work recently so I wanted to surprised you with some of your favourite things.” To most peoples surprise, Hank was a true romantic at heart despite the cold exterior he held, just wanting to pamper you and treat you like the queen you were. Whether that be buying you your favourite sweets or complimenting you whenever possible, he did everything in his power to make sure you were happy.

Leading you towards the dinner table, you both sat down, quickly making conversation about everything, except work, that being an unspoken rule between you. Conversation flowed easily, both of you just happy to be in the presence of each other once more. Dinner had been polished off, with Hank fetching the dessert from the fridge after as you uttered the millionth ‘thank you’ to him. You both tucked in, moaning at the flavour that tasted like heaven after the day you had had. Looking up you noticed your boyfriend's demeanour had changed, no longer joyful but instead nervous, staring at his hands in his lap.

“What’s wrong Hank?” You asked, worried you had done something to set off this mood change. Instead of replying he lifted his hands from his lap onto the table along with a velvet box, slowly opening it to reveal a ring.

“Y/N, I know we haven’t been together that long and we haven’t discussed this that much but I’m getting old, and whilst I was thinking about that, I realised you really are it for. I can't even imagine myself with someone else or not spending the rest of my days with you. So Y/N Y/LN will you marry me?” Tears pricked your eyes, never in a million years would you have expected this, but instead of being angry about it, you couldn’t think of anything you wanted more.

“Only if you do it properly and get down on one knee,” you countered, watching as he got off his chair and onto one knee.

“So will you?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed throwing yourself into his arms.

As the evening winded down, you laid in Hank's arms on your shared bed thinking about everything life had given you. You couldn’t have met anyone as perfect as the man beside you. The man you would spend the rest of your life with, bear children with and grow old with. So as you drifted off to sleep, you pictured the little girl, hoping she was in heaven looking down on your life and smiling

[willadisastercry]

Pidge is less okay than everyone thought... and that’s okay

Tw: detailed description of a panic attack, unintentional self harm (not intense or graphic)

Shiro and Lance are the only one’s who seem to be able to help when Pidge has an anxiety attack, they’re also the only people who know she even actively has them. But Pidge has overworked herself all week, not getting enough sleep or even bothering to eat much before today’s mission. So when she faces a hitch in an attempt to acquire possibly crucial intel that could put her family back together, she can’t steal her nerves quick enough before this one comes on and nothing seems to be working to calm her down this time.

“Really good work out there today, guys. Relax and rest a bit before we regroup later to discuss.”

Pidge had barely noticed Shiro was even speaking, too enthralled in the prospect of what could possibly be contained on the drive she’d secured with galra intel from today’s mission.

“Awh, come onnn Shiro. Can’t we just call it a night? I’m so wiped.”

Flight plans, prisoner logs, cargo shipment details, the possibilities were really endless and anything could get her one step closer to finding her father and brother. She couldn’t get complacent now.

“Would you rather wake up early tomorrow morning—“

“NO! No, forget I asked. Ugh,” Lance urged before huffing in frustration as he sprawled himself across the couch in the common room, everyone else already following suit and nearly entirely atop of one another.

They all seemed content to remain like that, but Pidge felt like there were bugs crawling under her skin. She didn’t want to relax, she didn’t know if she could.

Her heart pumped erratically in her chest as she felt more and more useless sitting on a couch relaxing when she could be analyzing the data that just might help her find her family.

“Anyone else have—“

“I’m going to go ‘relax’ in my lab,” Pidge announced resolutely.

“Uh, Pidge, you know the whole point of relaxing is ya know, not doing anything, right?”Hunk asked as Keith shifted to allow him to release her from under the weight of his arm where it fell in their semi dog pile onto the couch.

“I need to start my diagnostics on the encrypted files I retrieved before they corrupt,” Pidge’s words were pointed and direct.

“Lone galra cruisers don’t usually have tech guys, it’ll take some time to relay the news of the attack over to hq and even more time for them to properly investigate and figure out what we got away with... you’ve got plenty of time Pidge—“

“Well, we weren’t exactly stealthy and they could have failsafes already initiated ready to go at any moment! It’s crucial that I review and decrypt as much as I can before all of our work goes to hell—“

“I thought we were sorta clean with it...” Keith muttered deep in thought as he reviewed their performance over in his head.

“Woah, slow down,” Lance interjected everyone, “if you’re still mad at me about not catching that last sentry before you were done cleaning out all of the files from the server then, I get that, but you don’t need to be so—“

“Guys, guys! We’ll discuss it later, for now everyone’s only job is to chill out, and Pidge, you can go work in your lab as long as you promise to come to the meeting later with a cooler head, deal?”

“Yeah, whatever. Deal,” she gruffed before taking off towards Green’s hangar to retrieve the usb from today’s mission.

“Jeez,” Hunk sighed as he fixed his headband back into place from where it had slipped down.

“And I thought I could be hot-headed...” Keith mused almost in awe but also worry because why was Pidge this worked up over some data that may or may not even be helpful?

“I was still down from a blast during hand to hand with the second wave of sentries...” Lance stared at the floor, his face full of hurt as he recalled his moment of error in battle that he was certain causing Pidge’s mood.

“...I didn’t see the last one come up and when I did he’d already blasted the control panel to shit.”

“It’s not your fault Lance, the mission couldn’t have gone smoother. We did what we set out to and that’s all we can focus on for now, let’s just give her some space to cool off and wait for the meeting to dole the rest out.”

The boys agreed and stayed in the common room for several more minutes talking about how weird Pidge was being before finally heading off to get cleaned up.

Pidge wished she could get washed up, but she had so much work left to do. She was typing away furiously as she produced line of code after code, determined to not let up before she was done.

Her legs pumped restlessly against the floor while she worked, her entire body practically vibrating with nervous energy.

She just needed to configure a base for her decryption software according to the firewalls in this particular ship’s files so she could finally let it run and—fuck.

The altean computer screen wavered and then sputtered as it began rebooting.

“Nononono, no, NO! You’ve got to be kidding me...”

She could throw up.

The processor had overheated before she could get the last few lines of code typed to initialize her software which meant when it cooled off she would have to start from the beginning and by then... by then there could be nothing left to decrypt.

Panic swelled in her chest, the heat spreading as quickly as it appeared.

This could have been what leads her to her father, to her brother. And if she failed she could be what breaks her family... for good.

She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until the strain in her chest brought her out of her staring competition with the blaring red across the screen in front of her.

Inhaling sharply, she clutched her chest. The initial breath hurt and so she breathed again to see if it would hurt again, and it did.

Shit, why does it hurt? Slower. Breathe slower.

But she couldn’t. She took another. And then another. And then she was breathing so fast none of her heaves seemed to alleviate the tightness that wrapped around her lungs and crawled up into her throat.

“Aha, fuck.”

The panic came on so quickly it almost made her nauseous.

The harder she tried to return her breathing to normal the deeper she seemed to plunge. But she still had work to do. And she had to be cooled off for the meeting or Shiro wouldn’t let her return to her lab.

She needed to, in her own words, calm the fuck down.

She’d done it before, managed to bring herself down from this point. But that was with Lance by her side to gently guide her breathing to something steadier and with Shiro holding her so tightly it was hard to find a good enough reason to remain so tightly wound.

And she was just very rude to both of them so she couldn’t ask for their help after that. Pidge had never done it by herself before, but she would have to at least try to now.

So she closed her eyes and forced herself to take in a large enough breath so she could count her inhale, hold it, and then exhale, but even doing that had hurt and seemed to just make deepen the ache.

“No... why... why isn’t it... working?!”

Her chest felt too heavy to do it, too tight and she couldn’t seem to manage the counts without making it worse. Her lungs would tighten up and ache before she reached the end of the time she was supposed to hold her breath which caused her exhale to be several rapid inhales instead.

Oh god.

She pushed herself away from her desk, in the process pulling the keyboard out as well as knocking over a pile of electronics that fell to the floor with a clank that jarred her now insanely sensitive ears.

There was too much input. Too many things making it impossible to do this on her own.

She scrambled to shut the radio off, but her eyes were blurry with tears and she couldn’t find the correct buttons, increasing the volume and switching it to a station of static instead.

She let out a scream she didn’t know she was holding back as she sank to her knees, clamping hands over her ears to try and block out all the noise that was now overloading her senses.

It was like everything had been dialed to 10.

The whirring of the computer processor as it worked, the cool air being pushed into the room from a vent over her head, the steady beeps and ticks of several different machines and... and the door of the lab opening followed by footsteps.

“Pidge?”

Keith.

“Pidge, hey... what happened?”

His voice was so loud.

“What’s wro—“

“Shh,” she begged, voice barely a whisper over her ragged breathing.

“Okay, okay,” he placated as he closed the distance between them.

“I can be quieter... and maybe if I turn this off, how’s that? Better?”

She nodded, removing her hands from her ears once he’d gotten the radio off. She hadn’t noticed when she’d started shaking but her hands were trembling so badly she had to hold them to keep them remotely still.

“I’m gonna sit with you, is that okay? Alright, do you think you can tell me what’s happening right now?”

She thought about it for a second and concluded that even she didn’t know.

She’d had anxiety attacks before, Shiro had been the first to name it for what it was. They were mostly inattentive ones where she’d dissociate, sometimes she would get worked up and hyperventilate, but it was only ever fleeting, short, over in a couple minutes. And other than that she’d always had some sort of an answer to nearly everything anxiety related. Except now.

Because right now she did not know what was happening, only that even her own heart pumping was so loud it made her want to disappear into a blissful cloud of nothing. She didn’t like not knowing what this was and why she was feeling it, and that realization seemed to break what little progress she had made in containing it.

“Wait no, it’s okay, you’re okay!”

But she wasn’t. She was so far from okay.

“Pidge, you’re safe. You just need to breathe.”

She knew that already and she’s been trying, but the more she tried and failed the more she became aware that there was nothing she could do on her own to stop it.

“This happens to me too sometimes, I know it seems impossible but you can do it. We can do it together, yeah? Okay, I need you to take a really deep breath for me, I’ll go first.”

And he did. He inhaled audibly and urged her to follow. And she tried, but her chest hitched and she choked on the air she tried to bring in.

Keith wanted to soothe her and placed his hand on her arm but she jolted so violently at the touch that he tore his hand away as if he was afraid he’d burned her. She met him with desperate eyes, sincere with frustration and impatience.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m helping much.... do you want me to get someone else? Hunk? Or maybe—“

“Sh-Shiro or Lance, p-please...”

Her hands were in fists on her lap and they were beginning to go numb, a tingle spreading from her wrists up to her shoulders and a similar one moving up her legs. She hated when that happened.

She hated feeling so much emotion when her body felt so stuck, so not there. Because she was there and she was struggling and now was not the time to go ghost on herself.

“I can’t-I can’t stop it, I just want it... to stop.”

“This feeling isn’t permanent, it’s just your body reacting—it’ll stop,” he moved his hand from the floor to her knee and she flinched again but let it remain there.

“I’m going to be right back with someone, is that okay? You’ll be alone for only a minute...”

She nodded through a strangled sob. Her mouth was starting to go dry and so she didn’t feel much like talking anymore.

Keith squeezed her bouncing knee before taking off in a dead sprint. Pidge surrendered to the heaviness of her eyelids and closed them for a moment as she vaguely wondered how he would describe the predicament to their friends and how exactly he’d realized something was awry at all, relishing in the prospect of focusing on something other than her own panic for a moment.

But the relief didn’t last long because when she pried her eyes open to see if someone, anyone was back yet, the world tilted.

She watched in horror as objects seemed to wane out of focus while others seem pulled into hyper detail, the floor stretching out in front of her in an unrelenting wave of movement, the little dots of static that you usually see when you blur your vision or just before you pass out were now moving so quickly she could cry. Correction: she was already crying, but she couldn’t stop full on hysterics now.

She didn’t know when she had scooted herself against the leg of the desk but was thankful for the support, thankful for something to remind her that she was on the ground, in her lab, in... space.

The way her chest contracted as her mind continued to do its own whirring, continued to think about all of the things she couldn’t possibly control but felt compelled to try to caused her a whole new type of distress.

It was too much.

She squirmed as she tried to get away from herself, from this feeling, throwing her head back hard enough to hurt as she wailed, but it didn’t because she couldn’t feel anything. It was like her entire body had shut off an entire sense and the others were thrown completely out of wack because of it.

And she didn’t know why she was crying exactly, there seemed to be too many reasons and not any all at once, but she gathered that it was one of those instances where now that she’d started it was going to be really hard to stop.

Those were really the only circumstances under which she cried, especially now that she was in space with a ship full of teenage-ish males and two very parent-like aliens, after going so long without crying at all only to lose it over absolutely nothing and somehow end up crying about everything.

But this was sort of different. Because she felt so much more wrong than just an overdue cry.

She didn’t have much more time to deliberate this because there were voices pulling her out of her daze. Shiro was knelt in front of her and Keith was back.

“There you are.”

Shiro moved one hand to her shoulder and she shrunk under it, her eyes wild and fearful as she could feel the weight of it, but nothing more.

“Hey, it’s alright. It’s just me,” he said as he moved to sit beside her against the drawers of the desk.

“Keith said you were getting really overwhelmed, so I’m here if you want—oh!” Pidge had rushed forward to bury her head in Shiro’s chest and his arms closed around her securely.

“I’ve got you, i’ve got you...” he gushed as he held her trembling frame, the tears still flowing freely and her chest still struggling under the immense pressure that had built in it.

She tried to ignore how trapped she felt, yearning for the usual ease that his tight embrace brought instead of this suffocating strain. She felt another scream bubble at the back of her throat as she let the weight of his arms take her somewhere almost worse, somewhere she wasn’t just struggling to breathe anymore, but now felt like she had absolutely no air to even try.

“Pidge?! Hey, talk to me, where you at?”

She pulled away from Shiro, his voice piercing her ears like a small explosion. He immediately retracted and searched her face for an explanation but it was just filled with fear as she drew her knees up to her chest, clutched her hands over her ears and tried not to give into the sobs until she had enough air to support such heavy crying.

But it soon became blatantly clear that she couldn’t get enough air in when her face had gone slack and her sobs had all but stopped except for the croak of her tired throat as she desperately tried to pull in air, the strong arms around her releasing completely now, more hands finding her back and tapping her shoulder.

“Pidge, you need to take a breath, the air is there. You’re—damnit it, you’re going to pass out if you don’t try. Is Lance on his way over? Okay, can you go get water and a...”

The rest was lost on her as black continued to impede her vision, Shiro’s usually warm and calming voice now just as sharp as the sting in her lungs and cut with worry. Tears still flowed down her cheeks to meet under her chin and continue down her neck, but they came silently, the hollow rasp from her throat as she struggled through irregular and rapid breaths barely audible anymore. She almost wished that she would just pass out already, let her body’s self preservation instincts break the unbearable cycle of panic it tortured her with.

But Shiro wouldn’t let her, he was just about ready to administer rescue breaths with how pale she had gotten before Lance arrived.

“Shit, Pidge, what the hell? You usually do so well with the breathing excercise I showed you... but it’s okay, this happens.”

Lance settled himself next to Pidge on the other side of Shiro and began to work one of her fists open, her hand was now lax for the most part, so it wasn’t hard and did the same with the other before putting his hand on her back while the other corded through her hair.

“I’m going to stretch your arm out so you can— damnit you’re really tensed up, do you think you can relax your arm a bit?” He questioned tenderly as he began gently easing her arm away from her chest, holding her hand while rubbing at the clenched up muscles as they released their tension.

“Yeah, just like that... you’re doing so good,” he murmured as he took her shaking hand up to his chest and pressed her pliant fingers down. After a minute she looked around lazily, her body still racked with trembling sobs before soft fingers were tipping her chin to meet a warm smile mouthing ‘hey’.

Shiro watched in a mix of awe and confusion as Lance handled Pidge’s crisis, ignoring the hesitation in his eyes because his voice was so steady and his so hands sure that it didn’t matter that he didn’t know in the slightest of what he was doing. He was just being him, this was his nature, to be able to read someone so well and provide them with such tenderness.

“Want to try and listen to how I breathe?”

She parted her lips as if to speak but a particularly pointed sob prevented it, Lance seemed to get the point though and shifted his legs around.

“I’ll let you settle in and you tell me when you’re ready for me to return the hug...”

Lance tugged on her other sleeve and guided into a cautionary embrace, his touch light and his hands remaining on her arms as she found the spot on his chest where she could practically hear his heart moving against his ribs, but... not quite.

Everything sounded muffled now, like she was under water but wasn’t prepared to take a deep enough breath before being shoved beneath the surface.

Except she was comepltely aware that she wasn’t actually under water. Like it was all a cruel joke where she was tortured while she watched everyone else around her breathe easily. Her mind still able to rationalize that even though she felt like she was, she wasn’t actually dying.

But Lance wasn’t flaunting the fact that he could breathe, he was trying to remind her how she could too. He squeezed her arms each time her hands tightened around the material of his sweatshirt, reminding her that she should be thinking about how his chest was working, pushing all the other junk in her mind away for now.

“Feel how my voice carries when I talk... how controlled each breath is... think about what you can feel and hear and touch... they’re things you can perceive... things you can control, don’t focus on what you can’t...”

Okay, he’s right. I can do that. Try to do that.

She shuddered through a round of hitches in her sobbing and pressed her face further into Lance’s chest, not even having the mind to worry about how wet it was getting with her tears.

Think about what you can feel...

She could feel the thumping of his heart even if she wasn’t quite hearing it at that moment, her mind making up the difference and leading her to imagine the sound it must be making each time it does... and how the air being pushed out through his nose must be whistling... and how the constant reverberations must mean he was... humming.

But then it stopped as he took a big breath and let Pidge rise with his chest as it expanded, sure to let it out just as steadily.

Her chest seemed to loosen then, her body rushing to take in as much air as it could before the panic spiked again.

“I’m going to hug back now, you let me know if you—oh, okay, I’m here, Shiro’s here too. You’re okay,” he ran his hands through her hair and pressed her tightly to his chest, his legs coming up to plant his feet firmly on either side of her as he began slowly rocking them back and forth.

It felt nice. He moved them carefully, slow enough that she could have been asleep in his arms and she wouldn’t have been disturbed, but also so securely that her mind couldn’t disappear the presence of his hands bracing her back and circling through her hair.

But the lull didn’t last long.

It wasn’t his fault, this is just how it went. When she got bad like this, the panic came and went in waves. If her body still had nervous energy left, it didn’t matter how much she managed to calm down, she would have to start from square one until there was nothing left in her to continue.

No!

Shiro was just as surprised as Lance when her voice cracked, the soothing sounds she was murmuring to herself as she worked her breaths closer and closer to normal broken by a wail.

Fuck!

Fuck you, fuck this, fuck—everything.

“-dge? Pidge?!”

“We’re still here, you’re still alright.”

“Give me a sec... there ya go, better?”

He’d turned her around so that her back was against his stomach and then held his hand up in front of her to show her before he closed it and lowered it to her chest, she knew what he was going to do and melted into him further as he began to rub gentle but firm circles over her sternum.

“Ahh... ahah, f-fuck,” she sobbed beneath him, she shuddered under the touch, her hands searching for something else, anything else to ground her and stumbling upon Shiro’s on one side and her thigh on the other.

She squeezed tight on both as she fought desperately not to slip again, feeling the way her body wanted to become light again.

Nope, we are just not doing that shit again.

She was so mentally done with this, but her body seemed to be losing energy too. She could feel it tiring, losing the warewithal to continue its draining overreaction. Turns out not having rested at all after their mission just to drop like this was a blessing in way, she was scared of how long she’d have been able to go if she wasn’t already worn out.

She forced her eyes shut and focused on Lance’s fingers, his knuckles pressing hard, but not hard enough to hurt. She’d almost wish he was. The rhythmic motion was heavenly because she couldnt ignore it as he kept the pressure there above her heart.

She gasped when she started coming back to herself, feeling the sudden shift when she seemed to be given the reigns back on her own breathing, sucking in huge gulps when she finally could control it.

“That’s it, you’re doing so good... listen to how I do it.”

Shiro was massaging the residual tremors out of her hand as he held it, the additional release of tension aiding in grounding her further.

She was faintly aware of the lab door opening but was too focused on not losing her pace, her breaths still manual and unsteady but a hell of a lot better than before.

“Oh...” it was Keith, he sounded worried.

She was confused for a moment before a hand was on her thigh.

“Hey,” Lance’s hand was at her wrist now. “Oh Pidge, don’t-don’t do that.”

Keith was trying to lift her fingers up but stopped when he saw that pearls of blood were starting to form beneath them and didn’t want his struggle with her to make it worse.

“Crap.”

“Pidge let—Pidge you gotta let go.”

The hurt in Lance’s voice stung. She wasn’t even aware she’d been doing that, but she couldn’t bring herself to break the iron grip, this peace was so tenuous and she couldn’t afford fucking it up.

When she didn’t respond Lance exchanged a knowing look with Keith who moved his hand under the palm of hers before both boys wrenched her hand up, surpressing how sharply he breathed when he saw the trail of red with sheaths of skin uprooted and purple crescents dotted about.

They sort of just stared, lost for a second, neither of them quite sure how to proceed.

“I got it,” Shiro offered as he took the offending hand from them, Pidge’s gaze still somewhere else.

There was a moment of silence before anyone talked or moved again.

“Pidge, hey. Keith brought water for when you feel up to it.”

Keith was kneeling next to them now, pouring cold water onto a rag and wringing it out before showing it to Lance.

“He’s got something cold to put on your face, maybe over your eyes? They must hurt...”

She blinked absently, silent tears making their way down her cheeks.

“This should help, ready?”

It took a second but she finally nodded and then the rag was descending on her swollen and bloodshot eyes. She jumped at first but he continued and once it was fully laid on it was bliss. The coolness calmed the angry puffiness and the pressure kept new tears from falling.

“I’m... gonna put something on your leg. It might sting, but it’s also cold so it’ll feel nice,” Keith said wiping up the small drops of blood that escaped the scratch wounds before pressing whatever it was down on top for a beat.

They weren’t bleeding much, the skin torn literally just enough to bleed. She also couldn’t really feel it, the area just felt numb and stiff. She hadn’t meant to draw blood, she just needed something that felt real to bring her back.

A spark of shame lit deep in her gut as realization dawned on her, she had hurt herself. Sure it was subconscious, but she still did, literally with Lance and Shiro right there trying to help. But she pushed those thoughts away.

She was far from perfectly fine, still working through the after shocks and residual anxiousness that followed. She sort of felt sick to her stomach and couldn’t stop swaying her leg back and forth as she lay against Lance, his grip as tight as ever, with Shiro still caging her unsteady hands in his.

Keith had gotten a blanket at some point to drape over her and kept removing the rag to re wet it with the cold water that she didn’t quite trust herself to drink yet.

“How ya feeling?” Lance murmured into her hair.

She hummed in response.

“Gonna take that as better, right?”

She nodded and then grimaced when Keith took the rag away once more and opened her eyes only to realize how much pressure had built behind them.

“What’s up?” Shiro asked when he noticed her face twisting up.

“My head hurts.”

“Hm, Coran has some sort of aspirin equivalent somewhere and... you could lie down, try going to sleep until dinner—oh! Hunk is making your favorite, he figured everyone needs a good meal after today.”

“Sounds nice,” she almost slurred, her head snuggling into the crook of Lance’s arm. She still shook as if she were cold, even with the blanket.

The three of them discussed something for several minutes but she tuned the conversation out, too busy relishing in how she could breathe again, only a small part of her worried about relapsing back into hysteria as the waves of panic returned smaller and smaller.

“Pidge? You awake?” Lance asked, trying not to eat her hair.

“Soooo, we were thinking of having dinner in the common room tonight, we think you should eat something before you turn in and we don’t want you to be alone just yet, also so you can be snuggled at all times... what do ya think?”

She smiled and scrunched her nose up with and enthusiastic ‘sure’.

“How bout I give you a lift?” Shiro smirked fondly as he squatted down and motioned for her to hop on his back.

They all had a good laugh at that, Keith and Lance joking about how they’ll never receive the same star treatment.

“I think it’s safe to say the meeting is rescheduled for the morning, sorry Lance!”

“Whateverrrr! The things I do for you, Pidge,” he laughed as they settled in on the couch, Hunk almost suffocating her when he was done serving their meal.

“I’m never letting go, I hope you are aware of that.”

“Not complaining, just... can I have my arm back? Thanks.”

“What was even on the drive—“

“We do not speak of... of that, Princess.”

“Pidge can run her diagnostics again before tomorrow’s meeting and then after that she’s on an electronic hiatus. Also everyone’s going to their rooms at curfew from now on, no exceptions. You people are humans and you need sleep!”

“But Shiro!”

“At curfew? Like at exactly curfew?”

“Yes Keith.”

“Space...“

“Lance. Lance, do not say it.”

“✨Space dad✨ has entered the chat.”

[goldznuts]

(Wano AU) Tagged::Regrets

If there was one question that had began to annoy him it was any in reference to the one piece or laugh-tale island. Those were his secrets to keep and if any desired to know then they could go themselves in their own stride and pay their own prices but he would still always be the first. There was no easy path for the questions they asked and Roger could not help but play musical chairs in attempts to get away from the never-ending questions and conversations. A quick smile and wave was given until his presence brought more attention than he bargained for. Nope! The captain commented before rising from his seat slapping the payment on the counter. Under the influence, the Captain after two battles now staggered down the street in hopes to find a quiet bar to relax in. He wasn't tired or hurt just to the point that he was too drunk to speak properly. This was not how he often carried himself but he had gone too far in his search for booze. Little did he know with the fame, even while despised, he could manage to find regrets in making such a bold testament to the world. Peace was rare and priceless, this was his first lesson as King. His best bet was to buy his drinks and head back to the Oro Jackson to disappear into the grasp of the sea once more. There was one place he could go to and not have to worry but they would despise him too. It would be certain that his sails were the ones that kept Oden away for so long and Wano had began to fall into a grim era. As the thoughts crossed his mind he remembered his first statement not to rule a thing and tried to cast aside such concerns. But Oden?....he was there, or so he had presumed. Was it selfish for an entire country to have fallen for his cause? These type of thoughts came to mind to counter his protest of little cares. Pressing a hand to his forehead he lifted the gourd to read the label in question. Sure enough it was Rum. He didn't do too well under the influence of Rum and steered clear of the drink as a whole. No wonder his mind was processing too much in irritation. That still didn't change the fact that the thoughts were in fact truth as ugly as it appeared. For every action there was a reaction and many would pay the price even more than he could have ever imagined. It was heavy and one of the few regrets he carried with the new crown. When they had brought Oden back in celebration they could not help but acknowledge the price they had all paid when Wano came into view. Should he have stayed behind to assist in such matters? Should he have left Oden to his affairs the first time they returned for the Polygliff. Either way it was done and now he had but one choice at this point. He had gotten wind that Kaido had schemed something up for the entire land of gold. This was the cause of his stop for drinks in the first place. The news that Wano had closed off everything in attempts to conceal the secrets he had found out. Yep! This was definitely the work of Kaido and Roger could not help but feel a pull at his heart in thought of what that monster could do with his hands on an entire country of innocent people. Seems some of the Rocks had found a way to rule even while broken apart and disbanded. Such thoughts were beginning to bring a headache and he could not help but sigh slinking away into an dark alley to sober up a bit before heading back tot he Oro Jackson. Roger had left behind his crewmates for extra security to their vessel and even selfishly because he required the time to think. Once on board, he through a drunken sway gave the order dropping the canisters of alcohol on the deck before dropping to the wooden floor hopelessly trying to fend off a drunken slumber. ☠"Go!....We are going.......Wano, to Oden, head for Wano."☠ The drunk captain had finally spat out the order before the snores commenced. The king was content to face his consequences alongside Oden. He couldn't just leave him there to handle Kaido alone in good conscience. Newgate wouldn't let him live it down if something happened to the man or his family. Too add Kaido was NEVER

ALONE, but if he were then he was a force to be reckoned with all the same even for Oden. Rayleigh only paused studying the drunk captain with a raised brow shaking his head in disapproval. This was unlike Roger and surely his visit could not have been so bad. "Political affairs are not our forte, Roger!" The other screamed with a mind to knock him upside his head. Even as he protested the captain continued his snores the order standing without the dispute. If he were awake he would tell his number two that they could not rule the seas and not address and situation like this. They owed Oden for everything and could never turn away even if the man had told them to go. Oden had promised that he would be fine and would reach out when he was finished with setting order. The roger pirates were supposed to celebrate together with him, it was the promise given before they agreed to leave. That was how it was supposed to go and even then Roger had a bad feeling in his gut and still left as requested. When they arrived in Wano things were not as they had found it the first time around. The drastic changes already shifting the finical and economical stance of Wano. The caste systems had tilted for greed and plots. This was real bad and to make matters worse he had found out that ODEN WAS DEAD? This hurt his heart and Roger had no idea how he would even tell Whitebeard of such a thing. He had left the other there and now knew he should have stayed to address the situation directly with him. As Oro Jackson pulled into port he studied the smoke filled skies a grim chill pushing down his spine as he took in the view. None on board the ship could speak as they viewed what was left of the Kozuki family shrine, it was now nothing but ash. They knew it would be bad but never anticipated Wano would end up in such a state. To correct, he should have known but at the time he was not aware that Kaido was directly involved with Wano. Deciding against porting the Pirate king opted to hide the vessel and leave out on foot. Hours later he found himself in much need of a drink as he made his way through the lands under disguise. They had opted for masks since they were so common these days. The Red and blank kimono he wore was constraining and layered to blend him in with the noblemen. He could find out anything he needed to know with time in patience. The drinks they shared weren't festive in the least. The captain babysitting the bowl of sake that had been poured by request. He gazed into the liquid his reflection dancing back, or one of the mask rather as he sunk back into his thoughts. When he had found a voice to speak he finally swallowed the lump in his throat. Roger forced up a cracked voice before he took in a few labored breaths to hide the fact he was very upset. Rayleigh in whom set beside him had no sarcastic comments to add nor did he instigate the situation that was obvious. There was no humor to be found even as they tried but the silence had to be broken. He was certain Rayleigh didn't offer many words only because he too didn't know what to say or he was simply waiting for the captain to lead off in discussion. During times like these it made the captain very thankful for his friend. ☠"Rayle-O, I-I, don't think we did the right thing here. I-I feel like this is my fault and I am almost scared to inquire anything further. This is so wrong!"☠ The captain explained as he lifted the bowl to his lips the sake being a much calmer choice for the male. He couldn't help the sting of tears that forced forward. Roger was very thankful for the mask he wore at this moment and lowered the bowl not even in the mood to drink. This was so messed up, he had assumed that when Oden returned that he would be able to handle the situation at hand. THAT WAS WHAT HE HAD TOLD HIM! And here Roger was fool enough to believe him even despite his own two eyes and the odd gut wrenching feeling they all had when they sailed out. ☠"We are far too late and we have to fix this!"☠ He choked out as he struggled to catch his grip for the moment being. He

needed food and more drinks, something that could put him down until he could process all the grim news and address it. No wonder they were hated by the many, if they left messes like this for the world to clean up. Thoughts like this came forward and had the King already wanting to retire from the game before he even started. It was then Roger made up his mind that when they fixed Wano's grim tale he would retire and head home to start a family. ☠"I-I didn't want to rule the seas...I just wanted to find the answers. When this is over......."☠ He paused remembering that he was intoxicated and that this was not a conversation to be had in a place like this. Instead Roger paused patting the other on his shoulder before heading to put in a another request for food. Leaning over the counter with his mask in place he glanced back to the curtain that had concealed them from view by design. The place was known for privacy and small gatherings much like a lounge so it was a good option for peace. What peace was to be had in Wano when the entire land was suffering? Immediately, Roger lost his appetite and headed out for a fresh breath of air. Ensuring that the mask was pinned into place he slid the door open gently so not to draw attention as he snuck out for a moment to figure out his best course of action. Who needed a plan? At this point he'd love to get his hands on the supposed strongest beast and anyone else involved. His eyes burned with fury behind the mask as he leaned against the wall allowing a much needed breath to escape him.

[shittylongcatposts]

Jumin week Day 5: tea/coffee

@juminweek2019

A/N: I wasn't feeling really good yesterday, so i didn't really get to write something for jumin week, but i at least thought about it and came up with an idea! So it's just a small Imagine or drabble or something. Enjoy!

The little ring of the door bell nearly got a constant sound for you, and you wondered when the day will come where you didn't notice it anymore. It was really busy over the last week and your customers were either very joyful and kind or in a pretty bad mood, not even saying thank you or a hello.

Despite the hard work you really loved working in that small coffee shop. Enjoying the smell of freshly brewed coffee or tea and getting to talk to people was a nice way to keep yourself occupied after your break up.

Today was a different day though. You didn't even get to talk properly to the regulars, because there were so many people coming in. There even was a line with people waiting to get inside. Your eyes glanced nervously over the folks standing outside while you prepared the next order. While recognizing some of the faces, there were also some you did never see before. Especially one guy who stood outside took your attention. He wore a suit, and was currently speaking with someone over the phone. His dark hair looked disheveled and wild and you wondered if he ever used a comb or a brush before.

~~

"Please son, reconsider and talk to her, you maybe even start liking Sarah. She's a nice girl and Glam and I would really like it if it work out." The voice over the phone said yet again.

Jumin sighed, there was no way he would listen to his father this time. This girl came to his home, without even knocking on the door and just invaded his precious privacy, as Luciel would call it.

"No father I won't reconsider. You need to clear your head and your heart. Are you really willing to sell of your son because of a company you never even heard of before? Look I have to go, this talk is not over." And with that he pressed the red button.

Another sigh escaped his lips and he ran a hand through his hair. Man, this wet weather really makes it look like he didn't even brushed it before he left the house.

The next satisfied customer stepped out of the door and held the door open a little bit, so that Jumin could hurry inside. Being a guy with good manners he thanked him properly and wished him a nice day.

The shop smelled of freshly brewed coffee and the young man quickly took in all the little details. With a little bit of white paint the walls would really look fine in Jumins eyes. Right now it was a soft yellowish tone with some pictures in brown frames hanging on them. Here and there stood some small decorations which made the place seem full of live.

The customers could either sit on small comfortable couches or on dark wooden chairs, which where polstered with self sewed pillows as it seems.

The next person stepped up to the counter and placed his order. Without even saying hello and thank you. Didn't they learn how to properly place an order?

Then he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He took a quick glance on the screen and wished he didn't. It was his father again. For a short time he wanted to answer the call but it would be rude to discuss family matters in cafe. He pressed the red button again and let the phone glide into his pocket again.

~~

"Hi how can I help you?" Jumin heard a soft voice speaking, only now realizing that it was his turn to order something.

He shook his head and stepped in front of the counter, figdeting with his cufflinks.

"I'd like to have a Coffee please."

He saw you blinking then you chuckled, a broad smile on your lips.

"Which brew would you like to have Mr.? And which size?" You held your finger up to show him the sign above your head. The odd dark eyes followed and read the sign thouroughly.

The customer behind Jumin placed a hand on his shoulder and stepped ahead. "Just take a seat and read the card there." The guy said, nearly hissing the words.

"Hey! It's not your turn now! Let him pick something first", you said and locked your eyes once again with the young man's.

"No it's ok, I think it's better if I sit down, I'm sorry." He said and took a look around to find a good place.

When he did, he sat down on a chair, quickly taking the card in his hand.

You sighed and took the next orders.

~~

Finally being able to walk around again was amazing. You loved this part of your job, and were glad when your colleague told you she needed a break and wanted to work behind the counter. She gave you a quick impact of the tables who already got something and threw her head into the direction of the dark haired suit-man.

"He's watching you, you know? I bet he's super weird..." Your colleague giggled.

"I don't think he is. He doesn't look too happy, don't you think?" You said, while reaching out for your hair to put it in a ponytail.

"Who the fuck enters this place only to order a coffee without even knowing which brew he wants, Mc?"

"Maybe he didn't know better."

And with that you leaved her standing behind the counter, walking over to the table the suit-man sat at.

"Hey again, have you found something?"

"Hello, I'd like to have a coffee, the columbian brew, medium size, and an espresso afterwards please." He looked up from the card and smiled kindly. You could tell it was a fake smile and somehow you began to feel sorry for whatever happened to this guy.

"Ok, then, one columbian coming right up, I serve the epresso later, ok?"

You waited for him to nod and turned around to take care od the other guests. There was something about this guy that fascinated you. Maybe it was the suit, you always had a thing for them, or the dark hair?

While shaking your head to snap out of your mind you prepared the next orders. Then you got an idea, maybe a small piece of cake could light him up.

~~

Wherever Jumin went, he always got into the center of attention. It was strange how some people always seem to recognize him. But he was glad that nobody wanted to take a picture of him right now or worse than that talk to him.

Shifting around on the pillow he sat on he glanced up, seeing you walking around the cafe, small talking with an old lady, even with your heavy looking tablet in your hand you still wore that kind smile on your lips. He didn't know why but you really fascinated him.

When you came up to his table again placing a little plate before him he tilted his head. "I'm sorry, but I didn't order that..." He was about to sad something more, but couldn't. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw that unfriendly guy from early, he didn't look where he was going and bumped into you. You tried keeping the balance of the tablet but lose the fight and the cup of coffee fell.

Right onto Jumins suit. He hissed because of the hot coffee and grabbed the cup. Catching it before it hit the ground. With a wince he looked at you. Your eyes were wide in shock and the first thing you could think of were the tissues on the table. Threwing them onto the young man you wanted to mop the hot liquid up. Tapping his upper leg and his torso with the tissues. The tissues however dissolved and one even left a red stain on his white shirt. He took your hands, throwing the tissues on the ground. He looked pissed. But he didn't look at you.

"Don't touch me, I'm ok.", He growled and jumped up to grab the arm of the other man.

"Don't you want to apologize?"

"Leave me alone. I don't have something to apologize for."

"Yes you do. You just bumped into them!"

"Mr, it's ok, come on I'll show you the toilet."

You grabbed his hand and he followed you. After closing the door you asked if he needed anything.

"I guess I'm ok. Thank you..." His voice was muffled through the door but you still like the dark tone of it.

"Mc, my name is Mc."

"I'm Jumin, ehm... Nice to meet you"

"Hey, I'm sorry you're having such a bad day. I wanted to make it better with that cake but I totally regret it now. I ruined your suit."

"You didn't do anything. Thank you." He opened the door a little and peaked through it. "Not for ruining my suit though. You don't happen to have a white shirt my size?"

You looked at him, and he was still smiling after all that happened. How was he able to do that?

"Actually we do. Here take this one." You gave him one out of the shelf and chuckled. "It's nowhere near as fancy as your old one but it'll do."

He closed the door again after grabbing the shirt and changed.

When he came our he held onto the dirty one in his hands, standing right before you. His eyes looking down on you and you blushed.

"You're cute. Thanks for helping me out." He said, making you blush even harder.

With one hand Jumin scratched the back of his neck, a little pink on the cheeks himself.

"I never introduced myself through a door before. It was fun talking to you, here take my card, if you ever want chat again." He bowed down and closed his eyes.

God he looked so wonderful in that moment that all you could think of was to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. His eyes grew wider at your reaction and he blushed.

Stumbling a few steps back you took the card and wrote your number on it.

"Let's do it like this, take my number and call me when you have a bad day, deal?"

"Deal."

And with that you turned around hurrying back to work, letting Jumin stand there on his own.

He leaned back against the wall looking at your number. God he really started to like you.

[starsfreckled-archived]

calamity .

 tw for death, violence, blood, grief etc . if you play xiv you know what the calamity is & that it wasn’t pretty .

“go inside” amaya listens to an elezen woman ushering her children into their home, eyes looking up at the red moon that slowly but surely has gotten closer over the past few months. it was terrifying to look at and yet, there was something hypnotizing about it too.

the auri woman hurries through gridania’s pathways, holding a box filled with bandages and medicine. they had started to stock up on what they could find in the guild. usually they did not lack herbs and what not but most of it had been shipped to carteneau. most of the conjurer and healers who stayed back now supplied their own personal stockpiles. 

looking back up at the moon, she could not help but have the sinking feeling that something was wrong ( well more wrong than the empire being ready to conquer them, more than those rumors about something called project meteor ). “amaya, are you alright?” a gentle hand rests on her shoulder and her gaze quickly shifts from the descending moon to aurifort. “yes... I... I was just lost in thought. how are preparations going for you?” the elezen shrugs, looking back to the twin adder’s headquarters. 

“I think we have done what we can. most of them wish they were at the battlefield and not here. those who are glad to be here are mostly those who work together with the hearers. they say the elementals have been restless as of late.” the mention of the elemental still makes her feel nervous, surely her and her family had proven many times that they belonged to gridania but who knew how the forest’s mood would be. they could be cast out within seconds.

“right then, I’ll go back. you stay within the guild, yes?” aurifort dips his head down, kissing her. both smile and she nods. “stay safe, yes?”

the first thing she heard was the bursting of the moon, followed by the great wyrm’s roar. it was near deafening, even though the dragon was not close to gridania.

what came next were the screams.

and the screams were followed by chaos, flames and blood. within moments the conjurer guild was filled with wounded citizen. she tried to ask what was happening but nobody could give her a clear answer. from the words she could gather and from the shaking of the earth, it truly seemed like the whole world was about to collapse.

“amaya can you and a few others start to prepare mih khetto’s amphitheater for more wounded? the guild cannot hold any more” looking up from one of her patients that she had just finished bandaging, amaya nods towards e-sumi-yan “shall we take some of the more lightly wounded with us to help?” the guildmaster nods and amaya quickly gathers some healers and volunteers.

...the outside greeted them with the warmth of near flames and the screams growing even louder. people ran about in a panic as above them the sky itself seemed to rain fire.

their little group hurried along, it was a long track from the guild to the theater, havng to enter one of the tunnels near apkallu’s falls. absent minded, amaya notices that the eldery elezen that had often stood there was gone. louisoix had been his name if she recalled it right and she had often seen him and others hurry about or discuss the state of things. they had seemed far more involved in the preparations for this than others. at one point they had even talked, though briefly. kan-e-senna had introduced them, but the moment the elder seedseer had mentioned her migraines, amaya had excused herself. she couldn’t risk anyone knowing about those strange visions she had.

just as she was about to turn back to her group, one of those flashes swept her away from her current presence. she found herself looking at the carteneau flats. there was nothing but terror and death. the great wyrm descended down, his stare fixated on a lone figure ---was that louisoix? 

before she could really tell, the vision was already over and amaya quickly leaned against one of the stone walls as the migraine grew stronger. looking up she opened her mouth to call out for the other healers... when the tunnel collapsed, burying conjurer and wounded alike. anyone who had already been hiding in the theater that day perished.

staring at the now destroyed entrance, the young woman simply stands there, not even able to move. she barely notices when aurifort grabs her shoulders, shaking her to get her attention before finally hugging her, averting her gaze from the blood that started to pour out beneath the stones. 

“amaya, go back to the guild, tell e-sumi-yan what happened. tell him we are going into the woods, the hearers say that the elementals are in chaos, we have to bring everyone into gridania.” she still stares past him but when aurifort takes hold of her face it seems to finally break her trance and she nods. “I can come with you, if someone needs help I can heal them” he smiles and his fingers brush over her cheeks. “no, you need to warn people not to use the tunnels and help prepare the guild to take in more wounded - I’ll also go and bring your father here. it’s better to not be alone right now and he can help organize things” right. gyosei’s knowledge back from his days when he fought for doma could be of use.

“tell him to take along my mother’s journals, she wrote down how to properly improvise when faced with too many wounded” she is about to turn away and rush back to the conjurer guild when aurifort tugs her back and kisses her, leaning their foreheads together. “stay safe, my heart. I’ll be back before you know it.”

it was the last kiss the two of them would share. she barely remembers the hours that followed. she knows she told the other healers about the deaths at the theater, she remembers their shocked faces but like her they didn’t cry. none of them had time to panic and shed tears. they had to concentrate on saving lives.

she remembers that the lights from outside seemed to flash, that people said something fought bahamut... that bahamut disappeared. it barely made a difference with the noise. with the roaring of the dragon gone, the screams from all across the twelve woods only grew louder. hours passed, perhaps even a day or two, she could barely remember it.

only when she nearly collapsed and e-sumi-yan told her to rest did she leave the safety of the guild, stepping outside into sunlight and a foreve changed eorzea. taking a deep breath she wondered where by the twelve she could just lay down and rest when she realized that... neither her father nor aurifort had returned.

...she ran. she ran past the people who tried to stop her, she ran through the yellow serpent gate and into the north shroud. trying to recreate the steps one would take to quickly gather the people of all the near villages... but the woods had changed and paths that used to lead somewhere lead nowhere. bridges had collapsed and the entire ground seemed changed. still. she found her way around, recognizing different little things.

she must be near the gelmorra ruins. the old collapsed walls looked like the place where they had once stood.a memory of a long gone place... sheis about to hurry past them and up towards peacegarden and hyrstmill, when once more the visions take her.

the sky still burns and the wyrm still rages. aurifort and her father lead a small group of survivors past the ruins, the two of them trying to distract each other by talking. “by the kami, I do hope the house survives. I had planned on giving it to you and amaya after the wedding” “we’ll deal with things as they come, we just need to survive this... a cottage can be rebuild after all” they keep on talking, talking about how gyosei build a tree house for amaya when they had just arrived. how she had slept there for days after her mother’s death and only aurifort managed to coax her down. they talk when the cliffside next to them collapses, when the stones bury them and everyone in their group...

no, no, no. she runs towards the stones, trying to figure out the spot her father and fiance had stood. she screams when she finds the severed hand of her father, trying to shove away the boulders, going as far as to use her magic and using her own aether... but she isn’t strong enough.

with a scream she falls on her knees, burying her head in her hands and weeping. 

she is found hours later by wood wailers who bring her back to gridania. it takes two days until she finally talks. until in a hushed voice she mumbles the names of the people who had died underneath those boulders. and then... then she takes her gief and locks it away.

she is alive and she has things to do. wounded are still pouring in, now even more as the soldiers return from the flats. it takes weeks upon weeks for a sense of sanity to return. it takes weeks until their shifts aren’t short naps in a corner before they throw themselves into mending broken bodies. when they can slow down, the world has truly and fully changed, the map of eorzea mingled beyong recognition in some parts.

...one part that seemed, in some sort of twist, barely touched is the area around amaya’s cottage. it still stands, some branches had penatrated the roof, but nothing she couldn’t fix... she couldn’t fix the emptiness of it though. the silence that seemed to drown her there. but she makes it work. she digs a grave next to her mother’s grave, she places flowers down. she fixes the roof and starts to offer her works out of the cottage, transforming it’s upper parts into a place where she could take care of the sick and hurt.

...it doesn’t heal the gaping hole in her heart, but it helps her burying it. burying her emotions and her pain. she doesn’t cry for her family again, not even during the ceremonies held acroos eorzea to remember the fallen. she simply stubbornly throws herself into her work.

[neverneverlouisland]

two of us (l.t)

fandom one direction/louis tomlinson

pairing louis x reader

word count 1813

summary reader is dealing with the loss of someone important to her. she doesn’t want to see anyone even days after the funeral, but one person is able to talk to her and help as best he can

warning(s) mentions of loss/death

-

She didn’t think she could ever comprehend the way her friend felt when he lost his mother and sister. She only thought she would be able to put herself in his shoes to be able to console and comfort him properly. Never did it cross her mind that it would happen to her. Or at least, not as soon as it did.

She’d been sitting in her old bedroom for hours since the memorial for her father, reminiscing and mourning.

She was grown now, but he was always her best friend.

Ironically enough, her dad was the one who chose to take care of her after the accidental pregnancy her parents had in college; not her mom. He stayed in school after she was born and continued to raise her with the help of his own family until he was able to afford a place for them. For as far back as she could remember he was the only force that kept her together all these years, even after she moved to another country for school and chose to live there. They would call, visit each other, and she was never once embarrassed whenever he would surprise her at the university. Maybe it was the fact he wasn’t too much older than her; after all, he was in his early twenties and starting graduate school at the time she came into the world. He taught her everything he could that wasn’t taught by her teachers. They cried, laughed, argued and joked around too many times to count. Now, however, the bad moments seemed especially precious. It was too little too late, and most of those fights were done during the cliche rebellion stage of being a teenager, yet she could finally see the concern and care behind her dad’s strictness and anger all those times she would show up late or not answer her phone.

The only sound that could be heard from her room were the sniffles every few minutes or so. Beyond that door, the sound of her grandparents discussing whether or not they should consider contacting the girl’s mother.

It seemed like hours of constant tears and blocking out conversation about the one who didn’t care to stay before a new sound entered her bubble. The turning of the knob and swinging door caught her attention, but she didn’t dare look up. She thought it was her grandmother wanting to try and get her to go downstairs or talk to another ‘friend of her father’s’ who would just give the family members the same condolences as everyone else. With that she sighed, blinking slowly and wiping a sleeve across her face. “I’m sorry if I’ve been rude, but I really don’t want to see or talk to anyone.”

“Should I just come back dressed as your gran to be able to enter, then?”

Her head jolted toward the familiar voice. A young man stood in the open space between the doorway and the room; one hand reeling its way down from pointing to the outside world. She quickly went to clean her face as best she could, looking directly at him as she spoke. “What are you doing here?”

A gentle smile settled on his face as he moved toward her; she felt the bed shift as he took a seat behind her on the mattress. “Your grandparents called. They thought you could use a friendly face.”

The only thing he heard in response was a soft, empty chuckle. He wasn’t expecting her to have anything to say or thank him for coming. This was about being there for someone he cared for at a time they needed it most. They hadn’t known each other long - they met at a coffee shop a few years back when he was working on his music and she was starting a new semester. It was a cute story about the barista calling out the order and setting it on the pickup counter, only to have two people reach for the same drink. They’d been friends ever since. One never let the other down or diminished their spirit, and he wasn’t going to start now. So he let the silence overtake the melancholy room until she decided it was okay for her to say something.

After a while of sitting and contemplating, a shaky voice announced itself into the quiet. “How did you do it?”

Was there a proper way to console her? Should he use tough love or soft words? Would anything he said come off as helpful in such a moment of vulnerability?

“I didn’t - for a long time.” He stared at the pastel wall in front of him, tilting his head as he put all the heart he could into what he would say to her. “Even with the rest of my family and the support from my friends, I felt alone. She’s my mum, you know? Months of consoling myself when I thought I was getting better went by in slow motion. It was like a part of myself left the world, especially when we lost our sister not too long after. Pouring myself into my music and being able to create something beautiful out of a tragedy is what really got me going again.”

She turned her head slightly, seeing his still figure facing the same blank space. “What do you mean?”

“Her words always rang in my head - they still do. I know she wouldn’t want me to give up or hold myself back. They’ll always be in my mind and in my heart. And I know they’re cheering me on from where they are; just like your dad is with you.” He nudged her shoulder, smiling when the corner of her mouth twitched upwards. “Nothing is ever easy when someone so near and dear to you is taken from the world. Sometimes I still wish it was me instead, though I know that’s far from what they would both want.”

There was that lack of conversation again. However, no matter how many times the silence would befall them, it was comfortable. Within the somber air was something that very few people were lucky enough to have. The strength their connection held went beyond keeping in constant touch when he left to do performances and radio shows before and after his album. It went beyond him making sure their friendship didn’t go awry while he was starting and preparing for his first real tour as a solo artist. It was the gestures he made over and over again that showed her not everyone would leave her when she was vulnerable or just needed someone. With everything going on, it didn’t feel right to call him up and disrupt his life because she chose to lock herself up in her old bedroom. Her father’s parents felt different, and here he was. While he was in the middle of a major turning point in his solo career, he still flew to America and found means to make it her childhood home just so she wouldn’t be alone. She didn’t know anyone who had a friend so kind and selfless; she certainly never did, at least not at such a level.

“I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here. I didn’t think they would call you.”

“I’m glad they did.” The brunette finally turned around, his upper half twisted so he was leaning on the bed with one arm as he faced you. “We may not have known each other for too long, y/n, but I know you. I know you wouldn’t have done it yourself because I’m gunning up for my tour and you didn’t want anyone to see you so broken.” He chuckled lightly, “You’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met, and also the most considerate. Pride and kindness is an awful combination, love.”

She rolled her eyes immediately, but her lips twitched up for the second time since his arrival. He analyzed the slight change of expression on her face, the shine of her sad eyes, and what was left of the cries from before he showed up sliding down her cheeks. “It took hours to get here from home; I’m sure you’d been sitting here for much longer than that.” He stood up, moving around the bed to crouch down in front of her. Without question he wiped them away, straightening back up only when her face seemed clean of tears. “Let’s go somewhere.” He said softly, reaching a hand out. “What do you say?”

Her smaller hand fit into his as she accepted the offer, rising off the now dented spot on the soft mattress. She followed him out the doorway, orbs and mind working together to reminisce all the time she and her father had as they passed his bedroom and the office. Every moment was flooding back into her mind, only this time there were no tears. Maybe it was because there simply weren’t any more to be shed. Or maybe it was having a presence there to comfort her that made walking through this hall just a little bit better.

When they reached their destination at the bottom of the staircase, the sight of her grandparents with a small child surprised her. Her wide eyes watched as the trio became aware of her presence, the boy hopping down from the couch and rushing over to not only hug her but attempt to jump into her arms. It took quick reflexes from both her and the boy’s father to keep him in her embrace. However, despite the situation and her still current mood, the way her name was called out by the four year old sparked a joy that he noticed immediately. It was the twinkle in her eyes when the two came in contact that told him their appearance today really would be good for her. And it was the showcase of a real smile on her face that told him he was right; that her grandparents were right in calling him when they did. “Is he going to come with us?”

He blinked, realizing he was too quietly watching the exchange between his son and this girl he cared deeply for. “Um, no, not this time. It’s just going to be the two of us.”

Her smile grew into a small grin as the pair looked at one another. Maybe it wasn’t the fact that her tear ducts ran dry or the presence of another person that made it okay to go through her father’s house without shedding a salty tear. She realized in that moment, as she held her favorite toddler and shared a content look with her close friend, that it was him.

If Louis wasn’t the one to come comfort her, then she wouldn’t have been okay as soon as one would have hoped.

[asherlockstudy]

Bran Stark and the Long Night

A “Very Potter Musical” theory

Okay, no I did not lose my mind. This is not a Very Potter Musical theory but it discusses some similarities between Harry Potter and Game of Thrones and ends with a little help from Spotify. By writing this down I prove I have learned nothing from my past mistake of interpeting the questionable plot twists in BBC Sherlock through an optimistic perspective. I need to get it out though and I’ll just hope I won’t get too disappointed in the next episodes. Please keep in mind that opinions and preferences amongst GoT fans vary greatly - who is important or evil in my opinion might not be for you. 

This is a long post, so here’s a summary of what is discussed: 

Review of the Long Night

Many parallels between Bran Stark and Harry Potter. Bran is a (dark) grey character in this theory. 

Arya’s importance and whether she is the promised one or not

Personal predictions about the next episodes. All main characters are discussed. Might or might not contain wishful thinking. A whole lot about the prophecy of Azor Ahai which I REALLY want to see fulfilled properly before the show ends. 

Clues from the Spotify Game of Thrones Playlist D&D created for the ending of the show

Some noticeable emphasis on Jaime and Brienne. A LOT of Jaime.

First of all, I belong to the few (?) who loved the episode. I doubt any other TV show will ever manage to achieve anything remotely as ambitious. The cinematography is gorgeous, the actors, the crew, the visual effects, the music... everyone who took part in the making of this episode needs a standing ovation. As for the darkness? It meant to be this way! The darkness was what kept us on edge and it made it harder to understand if a character was dying or not, thus stressing us out even more. The darkness was meant to reinforce the feeling of uncertainty and imminent danger. Whereas Helm’s Deep battle was lit to emphasize on the heroism and the stunts, the battle of Winterfell is darkened to emphasize on its unpredictability and the feeling of death lurking in every corner. So it is unfair to rate this episode with 1s or 2s like so many people do. Even if you didn’t like the ending, there are so many elements here and so much hard work that deserve acknowledgement.

I didn’t like everything though. What did I not like? Well, duh, the ending. I was never interested in the whole “White Walkers” part of the plot and yet Arya killing the Night King in seconds didn’t exactly satisfy even the indifferent me. Don’t get me wrong, I like Arya and she sure is one of the most lethal characters. It just never occurred to me that she could be connected to this particular subplot. The thing, however, that I interpret very differently than most people writing reviews is that to me there was nothing final about this episode. Many fans act as if this was the general ending of the story and I don’t want to be too optimistic but I just don’t see it this way. So what then? Are we going to watch Cersei sip wine for the next four and a half hours until Drogon roasts her in the last second? Are they THAT bad? The fact that the characters in the show consider the Dead their greatest threat does not mean that this is the culmination of the plot. Let alone that the fact that the characters think the threat is gone does not mean the threat is gone. Remember the show we’re watching - the shocking plot twists always happen when you least expect them. If D&D have now become cowards, we must wait until the end to be able to tell. I, for one, consider the fact that they have not left even a mere second, even a still image, even a comment or a sentence about the last three episodes slip as extremely promising. Even the promo for the next episode is literally two scenes and obviously the least important. Anyway, I don’t want to defend them too much because this has been a boomerang for me in the past *cough sherlock cough*.

According to what we got, most have assumed that Bran was the ultimate good guy who had orchestrated everything so Arya, Azor Ahai, would kill the Night King.  My main argument is that Bran Stark...just doesn’t strike me like an *entirely* good guy. I know people have had enough of Bran is the Villain theories but I am not speaking about a full-blown villain and also...just consider it for a bit. The Three-Eyed-Raven is supposedly the eternal enemy of the Night King and is a wise entity. There is a problem in Bran’s case though: the Night King leaves his mark on him. 

Don’t forget, the Night King is known to create wights simply by touching  them. Craster’s living babies. Bloody (though dead) Viserion! The intelligence or the living state of the victim doesn’t seem to be an obstacle. The Night King then assumes complete control over his creations.

 Do you know what this mark reminds me of? 

This. 

Voldemort tried to kill Harry but his curse turned back at him because Lily had just died to save her child (because of love). It left a scar on Harry’s forehead instead of killing him. What happened between Bran and the Night King seems very similar. The Night King wanted to kill or turn into a wight the soon-to-be Third Eyed Raven so he grabbed him by the wrist but Bran wasn’t exactly there so there was an obstacle the Night King couldn’t fully overcome. Bran escapes him and returns to the present with a mark. We’re told that this mark can help the Night King find him. Is this all there is to it though? 

It takes five years for Dumbledore to brace himself and reveal to Harry why his scar is a sensor of Voldemort’s presence and extreme mood shifts. The reason is that the day Voldemort tried to kill Harry a part of his already ruined soul was merged with Harry’s soul which made them both have access to each other’s feelings and thoughts to some degree. As time passed, that connection became stronger, especially as Harry and Voldemort became aware of it. By his fifth year in Hogwarts, Harry’s mood is constantly affected by Voldemort’s; he’s often angry and full of inexplicable hate. He laughs and gets furious and has violent urges all of a sudden without understanding why. He starts getting visions where he is Voldemort.  The good thing in Harry’s case is that Harry’s soul is a pure whole soul that can’t get easily corrupted and that some powerful people know about this connection more or less and try to guard him against it (Dumbledore, Snape, Sirius etc).

If something similar happens to Bran, he is not that lucky. Nobody understands this connection except maybe the previous Third Eyed Raven who is dead. What’s worse, Bran does not only fight against the Night King’s effect on him. Whereas Harry’s soul was pure and healthy and whole, Bran’s soul and identity collapses under the weight of partly being both the Night King (or controlled by him) and the Third Eyed Raven. His mind fills with the memory and the wisdom of the world as well as with the awareness of the intent of death. Obviously, little Brandon Stark’s emotional and mental world doesn’t even make up 1% of the whole consciousness there is now inside him. 

As the Night King gets more powerful day after day, we see an evolution in Bran Stark as well. As the story proceeds, he becomes more and more emotionless and lifeless just like Harry was getting more irritable, envious and violent. Bran starts resembling a dead man. It does not help that the Third Eyed Raven has a pretty neutral stance as well but young Bran suspiciously beats the much older previous Third Eyed Raven in terms of neutrality. When he returns to Winterfell, he has already lost all his feelings for his family. Maybe Bran is still in there but only a last lost hint of him that needs something groundbreaking to happen to cause him to externalize some emotion. 

Another proof that Bran has a more special connection with the Night King than just being tracked down by him is offered to us when a panicked marked Bran (when he still could feel) argues with the Third Eyed Raven that the Night King can’t get to him in that sacred place to which the wise entity responds laconically:  “He can now”. Well, if the mark was just a track medium then the Night King would get stuck in the opening of the cave, aware that Bran is inside yet unable to enter. If he can now get in, this possibly means he is already in, protected by being carried by an innocent, still pure and very much alive being; Bran. The Night King is inside and thus the wights can now follow him there. 

Dumbledore thought it was too cruel to reveal to poor Harry that the only way they could completely kill Voldemort was to kill him too.  Aaaand Dumbledore thought it was important that Voldemort killed them both himself. The only difference here is that Bran is both the equivalents of Harry and Dumbledore in one body, so Bran himself was the one who knew what had to be done. 

When they are discussing the battle strategy, Bran tells everyone the Night King wants to kill him because he wants to erase the memory of this world. Despite this, Bran requires to be left outside in plain sight so that the Night King will find him and everyone assumes he wants to be the bait, something Bran neither confirms nor denies. But what if he wanted to be the sacrifice instead of the bait? Think about it, Bran’s plan makes the Night King supposedly more vulnerable but it also makes the Third Eyed Raven way easier to kill. If Bran waits for him in the open, it’s very easy for the Night King to reach him quickly with the dragon and if he does, then all the living die anyway! If Bran was in the crypts, the Night King would have a much longer way to go into the castle, thus having to confront many more living that could hopefully take him down. Honestly, Bran’s plan just makes the Night King’s job easier.  Moreover, Bran does not ask protection. Theon takes the initiative and swears to protect him and Bran once again says nothing because he doesn’t want to cause disagreements and end up protected in the crypts or with a more skilled fighter to guard him. At this moment Bran realises Theon is about to die for his cause and he allows it to happen for either the greater good or the greater evil. Bran says he doesn’t know if dragon fire can kill the Night King because nobody has tried, therefore making Jon and Daenerys waste all their contribution at trying to take him out in this way. When Daenerys dracarys at him, the Night King shows human traits and smiles sinisterly at her.

Hehe, tricked ya! Has he ever displayed so particular human reactions before?

In short, I believe Bran wanted to die in this battle. What’s questionable is Bran’s allegiances. Does Bran want to die to save everyone else or to ensure the Night King’s plan is successful? I tend to believe the answer is...both. The Raven inside him wants the Night King to fail but Night King’s consiousness inside him wants him to succeed. Either way Bran must die. However, I think currently the Night King’s will inside Bran is winning because Bran would try to pass on somebody else his gift before sacrificing himself. Another question is, is Bran totally honest? What if the Night King's actual plan was to resurrect him or merge with him after killing him which as a result would mean that the Night King would become the Third Eyed Raven, accumulating enormous god-like power? 

Arya prevented Bran’s plan whether his intent was good or bad. With this reasoning, Arya is not Azor Ahai because either she delayed the salvation of the living or she didn’t completely beat the “Final Boss”. Of course, there are problems in this theory. Why did Bran want to save himself in the past, why did he not head alone in the north to find the Night King first and end this without so much mayhem? Also, what about Arya and the dagger he gave her?

Possible answers: 

Bran’s high consciousness as well as his connection to the Night King get stronger minute after minute. It might have taken him some time to process what he needed or wanted to do and how he would achieve it. 

Well, he is a boy in a wheelchair. Nobody will let him just go find the Night King. He can’t escape their notice. Before this, Meera would never agree to take him north obviously.

The dagger thing is the hardest. Can we still assume there is a limit to what Bran knows and can predict? He doesn’t know everything. I think at this point I believe there is truly a God in the ASOIAF world and it seems he has a design for this world indeed. Bran might be more powerful than a regular person but he still is a tool in the divine plan. Besides, upon planning the tactics for the battle, Bran does not seem exactly sure of the outcome. Bran seems to know vaguely who is important but he does not know exactly how. Perhaps Three Eyed Raven Bran sensed Arya was meant to have that dagger but he didn’t know yet what for and whether it would benefit his Night King side or not. Furthermore, back then the Night King’s effect on him was weaker so that Bran was a better entity than he is now. 

Now let’s talk about the actual battle. When Melisandre sets the trench on fire, Theon seals his death by telling Bran that the fire is lit and the wights can not proceed (and therefore reach to them). Then - oh so coincidentally - Bran is like “OK thanx Theon gotta go now bye”. He then wargs into ravens and he leads them straight to the Night King. The ravens reach him and then and only then the Night King commands the wights to fall in the fire and create a bridge for the rest to cross. We see this on screen clearly so I wonder why people don’t talk about it at all. I would make a gif but it’s too damn dark! (Taking back all good words I said for the darkness lol). In short, Bran gets close to the Night King and sets him into action. Bran betrays them all. Is this a necessary evil for the greater good or just plain evil? Almost everyone was slaughtered after this, so I doubt Bran didn’t want to be in the crypts so more people would survive...bullshit. (Of course, all these apply if we blindly accept that the battle strategy was not just badly written.)

A similar scene happens in the seventh season when Bran wargs ravens to spy on the Dead and although they all are motionless, standing corpses, when the ravens arrive the Night King abruptly jumps to...errr...life and looks at them as if fully aware it’s Bran inside them. This terrifies Bran but also probably allows him to learn about the special nature of his connection with him. 

In Dragonstone, the first episode of the seventh season, the second scene is the dead marching South and the scene cuts to Bran warging while Meera drags him to the Wall. 

Back in the Long Night, Bran stays at warg state throughout the whole battle after this point. Now look... if you can. Apologies for terrible quality.  

Bran never leaves his warg state until the exact moment the Night King arrives and has direct eye contact with him. Therefore, Bran does not need to guide him anymore. He returns to himself and thanks Theon essentially for dying for nothing. However, Theon serves his purpose, delaying Bran’s death until Arya arrives. Then he dies betrayed, paying for his betrayal of Robb Stark. Bran then waits passively for the Night King to kill him. Their interaction is basically all but hateful. The Night King just stares at him with something close to content in his face, while Bran looks...happy?  

This is Bran’s happy face. I can’t unsee it!!!!! It’s excited or impatient or something like that... and Bran makes something like nod with his eyes and then the Night King tries to grab his sword..... but Arya arrives out of nowhere and kills him. Look at Bran. He doesn't look at the least bit happy or grateful. His - granted - blank expression somehow shows me he was thinking "How the fuck do I undo this now?". Look at Arya smiling at him after they are all saved and Bran’s reaction. 

You’re safe now, brother!

Yeah, I am so happy right now I could cut you with the dagger I gave you.. 

For an extremely expressionless face, I feel like Bran is probably screaming internally here. Tell me, does he look happier with the Night King or Arya?!

Let’s focus on Arya now. As a start, Arya does not fit any of the criteria for Azor Ahai except maybe the first one (Braavos' water dance fight style and strong connection of the city with water???). She hasn't killed a Lannister-lion yet and the Nissa Nissa thing makes the probabilities even slimmer. Furthermore, she doesn't kill the Night King with her Needle but with a dagger instead. No fire, no red colour, nothing. Actually, we see her repeatedly asking Gendry to make her the weapon. We’ve therefore been told that Arya won’t have her sword so she doesn't have a Lightbringer either. Three swords get a lot of mentions in the show: the Needle which Arya did not use at all throughout the battle (she literally uses every possible weapon except the Needle), Heartsbane which Sam gives to Jorah who then falls and Oathkeeper which Jaime gives to Brienne as a token of his love.

Arya was not Azor Ahai but she still functioned according to the God's plan. The God (whoever he is, the old, the 7, the Lord of Light or the Many-faced one) doesn’t want the memory of this world to be lost. What perhaps Bran had not thought (or did not want) is that he should not die until he passed his gift to someone else. If Bran's plan worked, the world as everyone knew it would change forever. When Bran explains what he is now to everyone, Sam interferes and says they should never let him die. Someone must be the Third Eyed Raven so that the humans will keep being exactly that - humans with history, backgrounds and memories. Here we might be getting the answer about why on earth Sam did not die in the battle. Sam understands better than anyone the importance of this entity. This might hint that he is going to become the Third Eyed Raven once Bran dies or contribute to find the chosen one. The archmaester in the Citadel told Sam something similar: “We are the memory of this world.”  

So, things were not going according to plan and also the real Azor Ahai had not showed up yet thus Arya was meant to save the day. Everything Arya did led up to this. She was filled with hate when her father was executed by Joffrey so that she would find the most skilled assassins to train her for revenge. Arya prepares the way for Azor Ahai. Beric was brought up to life to save Arya. The Hound was not killed by Brienne or Arya in order to then save the latter. The Hound most likely has more to do in the story (face Mountain) which is why Beric dies and Sandor does not.

Let’s go to the plot armour. Arya's timing saves Sansa, Tyrion, Missandei and Varys. During the battle, something of utmost importance happens in the crypts. Sansa plants an idea in Tyrion's mind - Daenerys is the obstacle in their way to be a couple. What's next; clever Tyrion will once again be the victim of a woman who promised him love and this is how Daenerys will be betrayed for love, fulfilling the prophecy. Tywin always admitted Tyrion's intelligence but despised him for being so weak in front of his vices; women and alcohol. Tywin cruelly tried to teach him a lesson twice, first with Tysha and then with Shae. But Tyrion did not pay attention and maybe his ultimate downfall is going to be Sansa. Missandei overheard what they said and she is still loyal to Daenerys. Tyrion is in danger. Varys heard them too but he might side with Tyrion. Let's see if mighty Tywin was cruel but spot on.

Arya's timing saves Greyworm who has promised to protect Missandei. Missandei is in danger now that Sansa knows she can rush to her Queen and tell her what she heard. Perhaps Greyworm survived so that the truth will reach Deanerys.

Arya's timing did not save Jorah but he held on enough to protect his Queen . Daenerys loses her last truly unyielding supporter. She is now more powerless than ever. Sansa has the upper hand in the North and if Dany opposes to Jon Snow, her fate seems doomed no matter what Missandei and Greyworm do. Then again, if Sansa finds out about Jon’s heritage, she might start being less friendly too. A cousin starts getting too distant especially when power is involved. 

Arya's timing saves Jon, the heir, whose purpose however was not to defeat the White Walkers. His purpose was to tell the world of their existence or he might have a great part to play in the last war. 

Arya's timing saves Tormund, Jaime, Brienne and Podrick. Out of all these only Brienne and Tormund naturally make sense to be still alive because of their strength and skill. And then we have one-handed Jaime and Podrick who honestly should have died in the first ten minutes. While everyone else fights for their life, Brienne and Jaime keep constantly saving each other almost like they are in their own world. Podrick surviving is very weird but we have already been shown that the boy has hidden talents. Podrick has not completed his arc. 

As for Jaime, Bran told him he shouldn't have him killed before he got to help “them”. And then the battle comes and he merely survives. Arya's timing saves him (and his love) in the last second. Jaime did nothing important for or against the Night King or Bran yet. Jaime was trapped in the battle, hardly able to survive let alone reach to Bran. Sure, Jaime killed probably hundreds of wights that night but he didn’t affect the grand scheme of things in this battle like Bran implied. Yet, Bran literally waited for him a whole night out in the dark cold. This must mean we have a lot more to see in the next episodes. 

Arya's timing saves Gendry and Sam but not Edd. Gendry still has a claim to the throne. Edd died so that Sam could live. I already spoke of Sam's importance. But something weird happens when Edd saves Sam. Sam falls down exhausted but something catches his attention. See the gifs in @nochancennochoice ‘s post: there is some debate on whether Sam sees Brienne, Jaime fighting with his two hands oooor Jaime fighting with a right hand. I think it looks like the third option is the right one and it would explain why confused Sam has a pausing moment in all this mayhem and forgets the world around him until Edd calls him back to reality. Sam sees Jaime through the flames, being in a delirious state, fighting like crazy with what looks like his right hand suspiciously a lot. We can be sure Jaime did not use his non-existent hand though - so could this be a vision in the flames by the Lord of Light...you know...a more accurate one than the ones Melisandre sees? Jaime was indeed fighting like crazy but Sam sees a changed image through the fire that puzzles him quite a bit. We’ll soon see if there was hidden importance in this oddly specific scene and, once more, it would explain why Samwell Tarly would survive the long night.

This does not mean Jaime is definitely the legendary warrior. However, he is the most likely contender in my opinion because a) he leaves his false vile identity in the past inside smoke and water (let’s pretend the baths had salts), b) he indirectly kills a lion, his father, c) he's truly the only character who is basically exclusively driven by love and we know Azor Ahai must make the ultimate sacrifice. Perhaps though and dreadfully so, Jaime still hasn't killed a lion because his father's murder is not on him. This might be the fulfilment of the Valonqar prophecy and Jaime gets to kill Cersei. At this point the story will have proceeded a lot and Jaime and Brienne will have confessed their love or acted upon it. Jaime has saved Brienne more times than we can count and especially in the first incidents Brienne asks him why, both in the show and the books. Jaime never responds in the show but in the books we see that he has meaningful dreams that lead his way. Jaime was destined to find Brienne, love her and keep her alive. Jaime gives her his sword and Brienne bonds with it so much that it almost already is part of her entity. The last challenge for Azor Ahai is to sacrifice his willing loving wife Nissa Nissa whose soul will become one with the sword and this will create the Lightbringer. It pains me to even think about it but Nissa Nissa doesn't sound like Cersei. Brienne will die so that Jaime can meet his fate.

Three guesses who.

After that Jaime and Oathkeeper will end this story by killing Bran. Bran still has a good side in him and it’s probable that he will guide Jaime to do it. I'm gonna cheat here with my evidence but this kinda explains why Nikolaj Coster Waldau loves the conclusion of the story but seems kinda sympathetic when Gwendoline Christie says she had trouble processing the end of her character and needed long walks at the beach and such. When asked, Nikolaj probably revealed too much at some point because he said the story is about that good guy Jaime and that Bran boy who sacrificed himself to save the world. Of course, it’s Nik. He might as well be saying what he wants the end to be lol. However... Bran did not technically sacrifice himself in the Long Night, right? If he knew Arya was coming, then he definitely did not. Either way, the outcome is the same - Bran has not sacrificed himself yet. 

Back to Bran and the Night King. People in and out of the show wonder why the wights became so powerful and persistent in this era. Furthermore, the Night King seems much more conscious and lifelike than all the other moving corpses. Maybe we can conclude the explanation with the help of Hodor's backstory. Everyone kept telling Bran to not lose himself in the visions but he ignored them just like he ignored Catelyn and kept climbing towers. Everyone is paying Bran's disobedience and he is going to pay with his life. When the Third Eyed Raven was asleep, Bran travelled into an indefinite time period and got his mark from the Night King. This might have happened long before Bran was even born or before he got paralysed. Therefore the Night King already was connected to Bran but Bran had to get the mark first to start realising and reinforcing the connection. The connection the Night King has to Bran gives him some glimpses of a human living self which is why he is superior to the wights and the White Walkers and shows rudimentary human logic and sense of purpose and identity. With the same reasoning, it’s only after the mark that Bran loses all emotions and vigor.

Upon first meeting Jaime, Jaime who is probably Azor Ahai immediately tried to kill Bran. When Catelyn asked him much later why he threw her son out of the window, Jaime did not respond even though soon afterwards he confessed he sleeps with his sister so hiding this was not the reason he did not respond. It was fate that drove Jaime's hand because even though he doesn't know it, Jaime is driven by a force to become the leader against the darkness. Bran did not die from an 100% deadly fall because although it was Jaime who did it, it was not the right time yet because he wasn’t yet reborn as Azor Ahai and the Night King did not yet live through Bran. Bran's first encounter with the fighter of the Lord of Light is the beginning for his journey to meet his destiny and as soon as Jaime cripples him, he starts getting visions that call him to the North. We might say that Jaime sets the evil going in order for good to fight back and prevail. The things I do for love... Fighting evil?

And now...some more evidence about the story can be taken from the spotify playlist that hints at the ending of the show according to D&D. Let’s see the songs in the very end of the list:

Gold Lion... In the “Knight of the Seven Kingdoms” Tyrion and Jaime reminince on their past “glorious” days when Jaime was a Golden Lion and Tyrion was a whoremonger. Jaime specifically says his golden lion days belong to the past (which is like the most basic foreshadowing of tragic irony) but the playlist disagrees. Here are some lyrics from the song: 

Gold lion's gonna tell me where the light is... Tell me what you saw... We'll build a fire in your eyes...

If this is not the most ultimate “Jaime is Azor Ahai with Lightbringer” evidence, I don’t know what is. 

Then we have Here’s Your Future, which is a song in which God basically is considered responsible for burdening his children with sin. God forces them to sin so that the duty of atoning and cleansing the world falls on them in order to get worthy of  the future God has prepared for them. This really sounds like the Lord of Light so I do believe we’re going to have Azor Ahai by the end of the show. It is very similar to the concept of Jaime being destined to be depraved only to be led in the way of atonement, redemption and then glory. Melisandre and all sorts of God faith have been given a huge part to be totally meaningless. 

Since I mentioned Melisandre, she was meant to die. Maybe this was the only vision R’hllor truly had for her; that she should die after this fight in the snow. Why? Ser Davos is the last main character Arya saves repeatedly. Ser Davos and Melisandre’s fates have been interwined for long even though they hate each other. Ser Davos witnesses her suicide. Why did Melisandre have to die, in terms of fate? Maybe because, from now on, there aren’t going to be any resurrections. Whoever dies, dies. Why did they change the plot so that Melisandre would need a magical necklace to stay alive? 

Maybe because only one character will have the chance to defy death from now on. Chances are it will be a woman. Why is Ser Davos who literally can’t fight still alive all those years? Maybe because he saw Melisandre drop the necklace and then age and die rapidly. Davos will keep the necklace and probably save a woman he deems worthy of a second chance in life. 

And then of course “Love is Blindness”. There are only two couples this could apply to; Jaime and Brienne and Tyrion and Sansa but I’m positive Sansa only wants to use Tyrion to weaken Daenerys and fight Cersei. So the only truly fitting love story is that of Jaime and Brienne.

As if all this was not wishful thinking...imagine Brienne sacrificing herself, Jaime becoming a heartbroken Azor Ahai and the ever surviving Davos putting the necklace around her neck, to the one he seemed to be so appreciative and fond of back in the fireplace...

Okay, okay aren’t all theories partly what we wish it happens? It’s perfectly reasonable if you find this way too much, way too complicated, way too wishful and subjective. If there’s something in here that makes sense to you, you can take this and leave all the rest. I am aware I completely dismissed some basic characters. Let’s say something short about them: Daenerys in my opinion won’t make it to the throne. Not only that but she’s going to be one of the first main characters to die. Even next episode seems probable to me. Arya soon will have her arc completed. I think she reached the peak of her importance. Of all the Starks, I think Sansa is the one who has a chance for the Iron Throne somehow. Right now, she is the most competent in the game of thrones. Littlefinger lives through her. She has admitted to admiring Cersei. One Stark will survive because there must always be a Stark in Winterfell. I honestly have no idea what will happen to Jon Snow. Everyone is sure he’s Azor Ahai but actually there is no evidence the Prince who was Promised and Azor Ahai are the same person. Targaryen heritage is only mentioned in the PWWP prophecy, not that of Azor Ahai. Nevertheless, Jon literally prays to die again. I don’t know if I feel content with the idea of him sitting on the Iron Throne and being depressed all his life because of it. 

Cersei of course will die. Tyrion won’t be the one to do it. I would hate it if Arya was the one to do it by wearing one of the brothers’ face. It would be so emotionally anti-climactic and Arya already had her huge killing moment however in the Spotify list there is a song named “Dead Skin Mask” under the “Killer Wolf” one. God forbid. I hope she uses her skills to someone other than a Lannister because there is also an extremely disturbing and explicit song which is named “Sister” and guess what, the rather problematic lyrics are about a young boy who slept with his much older sister who is...nuts.

I was only sixteen but I guess that's no excuse

Oh, sister Don't put me on the street again Oh, sister I just want to be your friend

These were the most tolerable lyrics. (Wtf Prince?) I mean, the point of the song in the list is pretty clear. Jaime will meet Cersei once more and let’s hope he’ll kill her for ruining 20+ years of his life. Right now, Jaime doesn’t look particularly interested in Cersei. It seems as if everything regarding her has died inside him. Therefore, something will happen that will fill Jaime with wrath. The scenarios are two: 

Bronn kills Tyrion. 

Bronn tries to kill Jaime, Brienne defends him and falls. 

Both heartbreaking possibilities (although admit it, they are awesome in terms of dramaturgy). Both are terrifying to me but my desperation makes me wish for the first option. The fact that Bronn said in the fifth season that he does not kill women really DOES NOT help. However, if Brienne is Nissa Nissa then Brienne will die after Cersei so Bronn might indeed kill Tyrion. Besides, Nissa Nissa’s sacrifice could also have some figurative meaning instead of foreseeing a literal death.

All these of course are just personal speculations and wishes. Cersei might be Nissa Nissa. Or Arya might have indeed been Azor Ahai. Jaime and Brienne might just live happily ever after (without Davos’ help) or Jaime might fall heroically. Daenerys might live and rule. Bran maybe is an awesome dude. 

I will just say that judging from the way the eighth season is structured, I think D&D played a little game. They featured the huge, foretold battle in the third episode. If the heroes of the whole story were also the heroes of this episode (Arya, Bran, Melisandre) then perhaps it would be wiser if this episode was the fifth or at least the fourth. We are still not exactly in the middle of the season since the total duration of the last three episodes is going to be longer. So if this was the decisive turn of the plot, why would it be featured in the first half of the season? Furthermore, D&D promoted the third episode beyond belief while they kept the next episodes entirely in the dark. That’s got to mean something. Hopefully, D&D planned to create huge expectations for the third episode, therefore not allowing the viewers to build defenses for what would happen next. They tried to satisfy those expectations for the third episode with the exceptional cinematography, direction, music and unprecedented ominous atmosphere they created. This could potentially be the most important deviation from Martin’s future version, in which the Long Night might indeed be the prophecised event that would make Azor Ahai rise and most main characters die. D&D though want the show to be as unpredictable as possible and they have an Iron Throne to give which might mean they used the Long Night as a distraction, however epic. 

[vantekay]

brain on fire by susannah cahalan

summary of the book: The book narrates susannah's issues with an autoimmune disease that goes about a month or more before being discovered  in her system. the book opens with her awaking constrained to a hospital bed. she begins to thrash around and pull at the restraints in an attempt to free herself, unaware of why she is in the hospital in the first place. what susannah is unaware of is her past month of living in the hospital and her experiences of psychotic behaviors, hallucinations, seizures and extreme paranoia. prior to these changes in her health and overall mood, susannah worked at the new york post as a journalist. her eventual diagnosis is made more difficult by various physicians misdiagnosing her with several other possible reasons as to why she is acting the way she is, such as "partying too much" and schizoaffective disorder. eventually Dr. Najjar is brought in to assess susannah and finally diagnoses her with what has actually been plaguing her for the past month of her life (for the sake of not ruining the book, because what made you want to keep reading was the fact that you didn’t know what was wrong with her and when it is finally revealed it is a wonderful feeling so I will not be disclosing the autoimmune disease they finally diagnose her with) using a simple clock drawing test that is typically used to diagnose patients with Alzheimer's and dementia. susannah draws the clock with all its components, except she has squished all of the numbers onto the right side of the clock instead of spreading them out like a normal clock face. this leads Dr. Najjar to conclude that the right hemisphere of her brain- the hemisphere responsible for the left side of our body, is inflamed and therefor causing her to act out as she has been- with extreme paranoia, sudden body stiffness, seizures, psychotic outbursts and extreme shifts in mood and being mute at times. from this point on the book follows susannah’s road to recovery and her life after being cured from the autoimmune disease. she reveals that it wasn’t easy, and that month of her life is a huge mystery to her as she has no recollection of her memories during that time period and she uses that as a way to improve her life. she also reveals that she knows she will never be 100% like she was before her disease, but she knows she can be better and stronger than she was before. Cahalan uses the rest of the book to talk about how she started an organization in hopes of helping other people with this strange and rare autoimmune disease that- as Dr. Najjar discloses often goes unnoticed and undiagnosed in patients- find out what is wrong with them and help them get the proper help they need to recover. 

(paraphrased from this wiki article)

genre: memoir

number of pages: 252 (273 including her notes , acknowledgements, illustration credits, about the author, and topics and questions for discussion pages)

my review of the book + the movie below the cut

I absolutely loved this book. it took me about three days to read but if I had had more free time I definitely would have finished it within one day flat. I never wanted to put the book down, and the way susannah writes about her experiences is both intriguing and heartbreaking at the same time. it’s amazing to be able to be in her head, as if you are almost experiencing the same emotions, thoughts and more that she does throughout the course of the book. I think that’s about all I have to say about the book, surprisingly haha but I really just wanted to talk about the movie a little more, since I was a little disappointed with it and wanted to share my reasons why. it was still a good movie and it does heighten some of what susannah experiences throughout the course of the book but the movie did not do the book justice. 

the movie was released in 2016 and is an hour and a half long. the beginning of the movie was pretty good. it portrayed susannah’s decent into madness pretty well, starting out with the visions she was having, the bright lights that were making her sick, the first seizure she has in the middle of the night and her increasingly poor performance at work as her mental health deteriorates, but after that the movie starts to take a turn for the worse- as in it doesn’t portray the helplessness and loneliness susannah experiences during her time in the hospital and all of her episodes in there. the one scene I was majorly disappointed in was the scene when her father comes to pick her up from her apartment and have her spend the night at his house so he can keep an eye on her. in the book, susannah has a massive breakdown at dinner, believing that her stepmother is calling her names despite her mouth not moving (her hallucinations and paranoia being the creators of this outbreak). in the movie they add a scene here where susannah breaks the dinner plate and screams, accusing Giselle, her stepmother, of talking bad about her and then she pushes herself into a corner where she screams over and over that her father is trying to kidnap her and that she needs to leave. while this part in the movie is heartbreaking to watch-it is not what happens in the book (which is to be expected, I know that not every scene can be shown to the authors every want and desire but it would have been nice to see this scene as it was in the book which I will now explain). in the book, after her father and giselle finish eating, susannah goes back and forth from asking her dad to stay with her because she is scared of being alone to screaming at him to go away and then apologizing and asking him to stay again. susannah reveals in the book that while she sat with her father in the living room for this period of time she said something awful to him that it made him cry, something that she does not remember and something that her father has consciously chosen to forget about. after whatever it was she said to him, she orders him to go upstairs to his bedroom. she then begins to hear pounding sounds from upstairs (auditory hallucination) and then heard giselle pleading for her life. she was hallucinating that her father was beating giselle because of what she had said to him moments prior to asking him to leave. because susannah now believes that her father is going to kill her next, she attempts to leave her fathers house, banging her fists against the front door. her father comes down the stairs to see what is wrong with her and in response, since susannah believes he is going to hurt her, runs and locks herself in the bathroom for the rest of the night. 

in my opinion, this scene would have been a bit better to include than the one they actually implemented as it truly shows the extent of susannah’s psychotic behaviors up until she was hospitalized but there is nothing that can be done about it now. 

alongside some scenes that I believe should have been added, I was disappointed with the way the rest of the movie progressed. in the book, it is definitely easier to write about days within a couple of pages but it is harder to portray days within a typical movie’s time-span without losing the interest of the audience however, the movie made it seem like susannah just hopped from one doctor to the next without any days in between and then magically met Dr. Najjar- the one who would finally properly diagnose her. in the book, there are many tests that are run in between, many more manic episodes that susannah encounters that would have been interesting to see portrayed in the movie and many other doctor consultations and possible diagnoses that were left out. the movie pretty much went from- okay well our daughter needs to be hospitalized, none of these doctors are diagnosing her properly, oh look here’s a really well known and smart doctor who knows what he’s doing, oh he finally found out what’s wrong with our daughter and then that was it. the movie shows susannah returning back to work after 7months and how she gets her first real story at the post. in the book, susannah writes about how she needs to relearn everything that she was unable to do during her month in the hospital like speaking normally, acting normally and even walking. she writes about her experiences of attending many different social events and how she feels during them, how her family reacts to seeing her post hospitalization and everything else. it would have been nice to see this happy ending in the movie in contrast to the abrupt way it ends in the film.

overall, the book and the movie are good. the book is well written and overall very easy to get lost in, trying to understand susannah’s feelings during this time in her life and watching her come out of it stronger than before. its uplifting and a good read. the movie was also well directed and had a very good cast, in my opinion. the characters did a good job of portraying susannah’s family and friends but there are still discrepancies throughout that made the movie a bit of a letdown.

god this is long I’m so sorry sksks but this was fun! to those of you who actually read all of my nonsense, I hope you enjoyed it and have potentially found a book that you would want to read for yourself! I’m excited to be doing this book rec’s and reviews and I hope you all enjoy them as well :)

[mercadosadaf]

The Value of Swimming In Uncertain Times

Hi Swimmers

Firstly, apologies for the radio silence over the last few weeks on the blog - we've had the whole Swim Smooth team busily engaged in a complete revamp of the entire www.swimsmooth.com website and coaching interface, and whilst we are not quite done, we are getting very close and hope to resume the blog and our usual community engagement very soon. Thanks for your patience and understanding.

Today, Head Coach Paul Newsome, has prepared a reflective piece for you on the value of swimming and what it means to us all, especially in these uncertain times. We hope it allows you to pause over a cup of tea or coffee and think a little bit about your own swimming and how your relationship with the water might have changed somewhat in the last 12 months.

Paul features three brief stories of some inspiring swimmers he has had the pleasure to work with and how their swimming journeys have been significantly altered by the coronavirus, mostly for the better. Paul summarises with some of his own take-home points on how this period has changed his own thinking on swimming somewhat and how his ordinarily extrinsic competitive goalposts have shifted to a place of intrinsic challenge and finding a new calm with that. So please, relax, put your feet up and let’s get a little zen for a moment.

The Value of Swimming in Uncertain Times

I was recently invited as a guest on the new An Open Water Swimmer's Podcast with host Will Ellis (release date: 28th February here) to discuss my love and passion for swimming - an easy topic for me! Will is a great host and someone I'd taken for a Swim Smooth analysis session as part of a group over a decade ago in the UK. Given my area of technical interest in swimming, many podcasts that we've done with other hosts have always centered on these elements, but Will took a very different slant, one which focused very much on the "why" of swimming.

Why do I swim? Why do I enjoy the water? Why swimming and not another sport? I came away with a headful of thoughts that I'd either never given due consideration to before, or maybe some that crystallized a growing appreciation I've started to foster of late?

Given the current state of play with COVID-19 restrictions on our sport over the last 12 months, I feel my own relationship with water has not necessarily changed per se but it's definitely evolved. Perhaps though, it's me who's changed and it's this period of intrinsic reflection that has heightened the "why" behind what we all love to do? For many of you, could the absence of being able to do the thing you love or the thing that perhaps challenges you the most (as a triathlete maybe?) be the necessary catalyst to kick your swimming to new heights of appreciation (however you measure that) when we do all come through this? I'm certainly seeing that in myself and my squad of very lucky swimmers over here in Perth, Australia.

Lady Luck

Over the last 12 months, Perth has been heralded as one of the best places on the planet with respect to the relatively few restrictions and impact of the coronavirus - many of us scarcely realizing how lucky we are. Next week will see 3,500 people start one of the largest open water swims on the planet, the Rottnest Channel Swim, in which I will be competing with a good friend over the 20km distance. We have, however, just come out of a heavily publicized (albeit very short) 5-day lockdown here in Perth which restricted access to the pools and saw us only being able to swim solo in the open water or with one other family member. This incident garnered international press on account of the very rapid and focused response to a single case in the community transferred between a quarantined hotel guest and a security guard. The whole state came to a grinding halt for just one case - everything ceased and panic was high. Despite extensive testing (myself included) of those who may have been in the vicinity of this one person, fortunately, no other community transmission has occurred. Consequently, life is returning to some form of normality again. 

One of the hardest things I've personally struggled with over the last 12 months though is being able to fully appreciate and empathize with just how brutal this period must have been - and continues to be - for many of you from the perspective of being able to simply enjoy the pleasures of a nice swim. Lady Luck has shone down on me, and for why, I do not know? I feel a toiling mixed sense of guilt, of pure luck, and of umbrage at myself for the seemingly petty feeling of missing the ability to travel overseas and share my love of swimming with you all, wherever you might be. I miss it so much and yet feel I have no right to do so given where I have the good fortune to be right now. 

I had a frank conversation before Christmas with my Mum about this. Many of you know Linda as "Mother Smooth" and if you've ever ordered anything from us, she'd have sent it to you. True to the adage that "Mum always knows best", I finally managed to pluck up the courage and expand on how excited I was to be taking my wife and two kids camping over the Christmas holidays to a beautiful town called Albany in the South West which we'd all visited together as a family a few years earlier. Mother Smooth couldn't understand why I'd not told her sooner, to which I responded that I didn't want to make her feel bad. "Feel bad?" she quizzed, "I am at my happiest when I know you are happy". Profound stuff - good old Mum!

The Changing Tide

So, what has this all really got to do with swimming? If you are in the northern hemisphere, chances are you are sick to the back teeth of hearing about the coronavirus and maybe even more so the thought that other pockets of the world are experiencing far fewer restrictions than yourself currently. Last week's swift lockdown gave me a rapid reminder though just how uncertain these times can be - the tide can change on a dime so easily. What has been remarkable for me has been watching how those of you who still continue in enforced lockdowns have survived this last 12 months and I'd like to recognize some of the cool - and crazy - things you've been doing, obviously simply for the joy of needing to get your swim in! Perhaps you can tell us more about how you've weathered this storm so far?

Helen Webster, UK

I met Helen in March 2014 at the 220 Triathlon Show in London. As the editor of the 220 Triathlon Magazine, Helen had taken it upon herself to learn to swim freestyle properly for an upcoming triathlon and I was tasked with assisting her with that goal in an Endless Pool and in front of hundreds of people. For someone with very little swimming experience at that point, Helen did amazingly well in front of such a crowd and it’s a testament to her bubbly “can do” spirit that she took on this challenge!

We spent a good hour or so filming her stroke, analyzing it (in front of everyone!), and then getting back into the pool to correct her issues which mainly centred around developing confidence in the water and improving the timing of her stroke, specifically her breathing. Back then, Helen was what we’d have described as a classic Bambino - someone very new to swimming with a relatively high level of anxiety in the water - so to see the following images circulating on Helen’s Facebook page in the last couple of weeks simply blew my mind! Helen’s gone all Bear Grylls on us and now is not happy unless she has to break the ice in her backyard pool just to ensure she gets her swim in! I’m so proud of her as a mate!

Here's Helen on what the last 12 months have meant for her swimming:

"Open-water swimming has been a key part of my training week ever since taking those first steps with Paul all those years ago! Lockdown had made me realise just how important swimming is to me though and in so many ways. Not living near the coast and with managed venues nearby forced to close I've realised how much I rely on swimming for lifting my mood, giving me a pause from a busy world and fully immersing myself in nature. I'm a pool swimmer too and with centres all closed I'm even missing the tang of chlorine and having to do kick drills!!

It sounds melodramatic but a tearful moment on the phone with a friend prompted her to gift me a garden pool and swimming tethered has given me a route back to the water (thanks to Swim Smooth Coach Jason Tait for the tethered swim sets!). It's also led me to a new swim community who are making the most of what they have and finding humour in sitting in ice baths and under hosepipes, or sharing tips for how to stop your garden pool freezing!

I can't wait to have my 'proper' swimming back and believe me, will never take it for granted again. I'm planning a swim challenge for September and keeping fingers crossed it goes ahead!"

Sue Allingham, Denmark

Sue attended one of our 3-day Swim Smooth Coach Education Courses in Mallorca, Spain back in May 2019 and was clearly a super-passionate swimmer and coach. We’ve remained in close contact via Messenger since and she frequently sends me crazy pictures of where she’s been swimming, however, nothing could quite prepare me for this one - her frozen Margarita experience (as she calls it)!

When I asked Sue about what the last 12 months have meant for her swimming, she said this:

"A year ago I entered the World Ice Swimming Championships in Bled Slovenia for a laugh. 2 weeks later I broke both my wrists and then Lockdown! By April I was going stir crazy and the day I had my casts removed, I got back into the sea, as the pools were shut. Little did I know that I would continue going in every day since! As my wrists got stronger, I could swim longer but the thought of trying to pull on a wetsuit was hanging over my head. By the time I probably could get one on I no longer felt the need. I continued to swim throughout the year and ended up becoming the Danish age-group champion in 25m & 100m Freestyle - Ice swimming and 5k Openwater. 

A year on from Covid and we are still in the sea and simply just grabbing any opportunity to jump in the water, to try new beaches or temperatures. As you can see from the picture, we’ve started making our own frozen Margaritas! 

What will I do when the pools open again? Dive in and just keep swimming! Never thought I’d miss the black line so much. Swimming as always is such a social thing & drinking coffee with friends after each swim has really made Lockdown actually enjoyable. Already looking at SwimRuns in Sweden, hopefully as it’s close by we may be allowed to travel. Otherwise lots of pre-paid events carried over from last year. I live in hope. 

One thing is for sure, the sea is always open!"

Mark Turner, Switzerland

Mark also attended one of our other 3-day Swim Smooth Coach Education Courses in Mallorca, Spain (the week after Sue) and had just a few months prior completed the Rottnest Channel Swim here in Perth. Mark set up the world’s most prestigious multi-day cycling event for amateurs, the Haute Route, which is a brutally tough challenge in a breathtakingly beautiful landscape. Mark was also the man behind Ellen MacArthur’s sailing career (who set the world record in 2005 for the fastest solo circumnavigation of the globe), the Offshore Challenges/OC Sport business, and the Extreme Sailing Series, and is widely seen as a visionary in the sport of sailing. And, if all that wasn't enough, Mark led the Volvo Ocean Race series as CEO in 2016/17. Needless to say, Mark is not someone to do things by half and is always up for a (big) challenge! 

Mark now lives in Switzerland on the banks of Lake Geneva and is fastidious about his swimming, especially a weekly completion of the infamous 10 x 400m Red Mist Endurance session! Like with many parts of the world, Mark has had unreliable access to his local pool over the last 12 months and so has turned to the great outdoors instead…even during the middle of winter! Hooking up regularly with like-minded souls in these freezing temperatures has been what has kept Mark going and will stand him in good stead when the world finally comes back to some sense of normality.

It Is What It Is

I think one of the most obvious things with each of these three swimmers - and yourself hopefully too - is that they’ve simply rolled with the punches that 2020 and beyond has brought their way. They’ve got on with it, adapted, pivoted, and thrived in a new environment and in doing so sought out other goals to keep them motivated and in the game. Resilience personified. We always talk so virtuously in training and racing about “control the controllable”, and clearly, none of this is in any of our control right now. Way back in April 2020 when we were still in lockdown and I was personally unable to coach, a very close friend and one of my athletes, Nolan McDonnell told me to “stop trying to save us all - we can look after ourselves!” in response to me frantically trying to work out how to keep everyone fit and engaged when I couldn’t be with them face-to-face. It really struck a chord with me, and whilst it didn’t happen overnight, I did begin to accept the situation. 

Knowing I wouldn’t be able to travel and spread the Swim Smooth word - as has been my life over the last 16 or so years - was a real blow, but ever so gradually I started to move beyond this and to focus on what I could do, not what I couldn’t. For me personally, that’s meant plenty more time at home with the family, and as we are seeing on the pool deck at the moment, plenty of opportunities to be super consistent with our respective training schedules too. The squad here in Perth has never swum so quickly before, ever! Why? Everyone has their groundhog day schedule dialled in and they’re sticking to it because there’s nowhere else to go, and there’s something very centring about that, zen even. 

Fancying a challenge myself - and recognizing the collective benefit of encouraging others to follow suit - I have even got myself back into doing a few triathlons, marathon swims, and even the odd SwimRun event too! Taking on a range of varied challenges was in an effort to not put all our eggs into one basket in case events got canceled or postponed. 

Again, I’m super privileged to be able to do these things right now, and part of that appreciation brings a whole new angle on why we do what we do. For me, it’s all been about my shared experience of training up with one of my best mates Chris to do the Rottnest Channel Swim together as a Duo next week. With last week’s unprecedented lockdown it looked certain to be canceled but you know what, I wasn’t bothered in the slightest! The religiously attended Sunday morning swim with Chris in the river is what it’s all about - not the event itself. Swimming + Best Mate = Win. 

Sure, the race will be a nice finale, but the old adage of “the journey is better than the destination” is what this whole crazy period has really taught me. We egg each other on even in the middle of winter and for me, this has seen a major step away from the profound sense of training for competition’s sake, to training for training’s sake, and for the social camaraderie that this has brought. I wouldn’t change that for the world.

Even if you haven’t had the opportunity (yet) to be quite so free in your activities, that time will come again, hopefully very soon, and in the meantime, just set yourself some little consistency of routine benchmarks to tick off. Get creative like our friends above (just maybe not quite so crazy!). How many swims in the river can you consistently do every Sunday? Can you always ensure you meet up with Bob for your Friday lunchtime jog in the park? Make sure you commit to that group ride on Zwift you booked in for on the Companion app etc. It’s the little things, done often that will keep you going and when the world opens up again, you’ll be ready! 

Thanks for reading. Swim on!

Paul

from Sports http://www.feelforthewater.com/2021/02/the-value-of-swimming-in-uncertain-times.html via http://www.rssmix.com/

[flslp87]

The Promise

A Captain Swan AU

Killian and Emma, two souls destined to be one. Come along on their journey of True Love, filled with romance, passion, and challenges as they fight for their Happy Beginning in The Promise.

Special thanks to @duathadun  @hellomommanerd  @linda8084  @juliakaze  and @hookedmom    

Can be found on Tumblr (1)  (2)  (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14)                                          (15) (16) (17) (18) Can be found on FF  (Rating changed to M) Can be found on AO3  (Rating will remain T to T+)

Grab a tissue and let’s go.... 

Chapter 19

Words ~ 13K+                  Rating ~ T

New York City, NY Late Friday to Early Saturday

“Mr. Jones, I’m calling to let you know your brother is awake,” Liam heard Doctor Hopper say.  

The doctor’s words didn’t initially register, making Liam think perhaps he was dreaming.  Not responding immediately, he looked around the room and heard the music playing, saw the lights from the city outside the windows shining, and heard the gentle hum from the air conditioner; all sounds assuring him that he was not dreaming. “Killian is awake?” he couldn’t help but ask, just in case he had been hallucinating.  

“Yes. I was standing next to his bed when he opened his eyes

“How is he, Doctor Hopper?” he asked anxiously, “Is he alright?

“Based on Killian’s questions and comments when I spoke to him, I have every reason to believe all is fine.”  

Liam sighed in relief.  “I’m on my way.” He needed to get to the hospital.  He needed to talk to Killian, if only to assure himself that he was fine.  And once he had done that, then they needed to have a discussion about Emma.  

“Mr. Jones, perhaps it would be best for you to wait until the morning.   Killian is going to be undergoing several tests over the next few hours and I really don’t want to overtire him until we’re sure there are no complications. Shall we meet tomorrow at say…10:00?”

Unable to hide his disappointment, Liam agreed and hung up the phone. As soon as the call disconnected, he sent a quick text to Nemo, letting him know about Killian’s awakening and then, as usual, ended up next to the window. The lights far below caught his attention in an almost hypnotic way and he allowed himself to get lost in his thoughts.  

He kept playing what he wanted to say to Killian over and over in his head, rewinding and editing as necessary until he was comfortable with the message he wanted to convey.  Once that message was complete he turned to go to bed, noticing his reflection for the first time in the window.   The man looking back at him wasn’t frowning…his smile wasn’t huge, but it was there.  Liam Jones was happy for the first time in many years.

When he finally crawled into bed, he knew he should be tired, but his mind was wide awake and active with thoughts of what had transpired over the past week. It didn't seem possible that less than a week ago, Nemo had stopped by his office and after a few exchanges said to him, "Don't ignore the pain, Liam, as that helps make you the man you are supposed to become, but trust your brother. If he says one look and he knew Emma was the one for him, just may I remind you, as your father did, then perhaps you are not giving him credit to know his own mind."   And that was crux of the matter, really.  That he continued to view his brother as that four-year-old little boy that he had almost lost.  That same little boy that he had tried to save and protect for close to thirty years. How did one change a behavior when it had been part of his very existence for longer than not?  

Nemo's words, "This is when we come together as a family and perhaps if we meet her halfway, Emma will save all of us just like she seems to have saved your brother," had made him want to laugh at the possibility that someone who had come from the very same place as the woman who had crushed him could ever save him. But now, looking back at what had transpired in such a short time, he had to wonder if perhaps his old mentor had known something about Emma that either he hadn't known or that he hadn't been willing to see.  His judgment had been sorely impaired for years and while no means perfect, he felt he was back on the road to discovering the man his mother would admire.

To say that he regretted his behavior, especially toward his brother, was just a part of what was going on inside his head.  There seemed to be too much clutter for him to really make sense of all the emotions, but the more that he attempted to organize and understand the many parts of his feelings, the better he seemed to be able to put them behind him in order to take responsibility.  He knew, though, that taking it was only the first step toward healing wounds that ran deep.  He felt it was important for all parties to come together, otherwise it was like covering something with a band-aid that never was able to heal properly. With band-aids often the hurts were covered, allowing them to fester, creating pain that could take years to fix.  While he deserved for Killian to shut him down and walk away, Liam hoped that his little brother would meet him halfway.

After several hours of being no closer to sleep than when he had crawled into bed, Liam padded into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Leaning against the counter, he sipped the strong brew and mentally made a check list of what he needed to take to the hospital with him.  Once the caffeine started zipping through his system, he poured another cup, and went to shower.

After he was dressed, he searched for an old gym bag which would easily hold a few changes of clothes for Killian.  A couple pair of gym shorts and t-shirts, which the doctor had recommended for comfort, along with shoes and socks were the first things to go in the bag.  Some toiletries followed and just as he was zipping it, he decided to include a pair of jeans and a shirt.  He had a few hours before he was to meet with the doctor, and with the bag and a third cup of coffee, he decided to stop by his office to try to catch up on some overdue work.

Boston, MA Saturday Early Morning

Ruby closed her suitcase and took another look around the room that she had shared with Emma and Ashley until they were 18 and moved into their first apartment together.  So many memories within these walls, she thought.  From gossiping about boys to experimenting with make-up, they had shared the highs and lows of each other's lives.  And even though other kids had come and gone in the Home, they had remained constants, always together.  Always there for each other.  Sisters in every way but blood.

Pushing away from the bed, she walked over to the window seat where her raggedy doll, dressed in red, sat next to Ashley's, dressed in blue and Emma's, dressed in white.  "We made quite the team, didn't we Annie?" She crooned to her doll, hugging her close to her chest.

These days the doll's answers weren't so readily heard as they were when she was ten, but the comfort she derived from holding her tight almost had her stuffing the doll into her suitcase.  Only the little smirk that she'd be sure to get from Victor prevented it, and when the doll just gazed at her with its wide blue eyes, after another hug, she kissed its forehead softly and set it back on the cushion. She had confided just about as many secrets to the doll as she had to Ashley and Emma, and as they moved their separate ways, it was a little frightening.

Her attention shifted to the bookcase, which sat next to the window, holding an eclectic array of books. There were tattered copies of Charlotte's Web and Black Beauty next to Harry Potter.  All were well read and well-loved and many eliciting discussions long into the night. As her eye moved down the shelves, she saw her Little Red Riding Hood next to Ashley's Cinderella.  A quick glance confirmed what she had already known - that Emma's fairytale books were missing, which wasn't really surprising as she had loved them best of all.  

Knowing it was about time to leave for Emma's graduation, Ruby turned back to the bed, picked up her suitcase, and just as she moved to walk out of the room, her eyes landed on a picture that had been taken when they were twelve or thirteen.  Ruby, as the tallest, stood in the center flanked by Emma and Ashley, all wearing huge grins and shirts that said, "All for one, and one for all."

"I wonder," she murmured, remembering their treasure box they had hidden not long after the picture was taken.  Her suitcase was dropped, and she was in the closet, searching for the loose board before she even realized she had moved. When she found it, using the palm of her hand, she popped it up enough to move the board aside and pulled out the small box that held their treasures.  

A quick glance at the clock assured her that, even though time was short, she still had a few moments for nostalgia.  After all, she was leaving for six months and when she returned life would look different.  Ashley and Sean were thinking of moving outside of Boston, Emma and Killian were moving to New York and she was...well she hoped she would be planning her own wedding.  A lot of changes in a short time were bound to bring on a little melancholy, right?

Reverently, the lid was removed and set aside.  Inside she found three mood rings and slipped one on her finger, wondering if it still turned colors. There were hair ribbons, an old necklace, a pet rock, sunglasses and a picture Emma had drawn of herself standing next to Snow White and Prince Charming.  The last thing in the box was their old Magic 8 Ball.  Memories of them asking it about grades and clothes and friends bombarded her, and feeling her eyes glass over, had to blink several times to clear her vision.

Hearing Blue calling her to come help, she quickly reloaded the box, noticing that, indeed, her mood ring had turned dark blue.  That's a good sign, she thought as she picked up the ball to drop it into the box, but couldn’t resist asking it, "Have I met my Prince Charming?" It’s answer, "Yes, definitely," put such a huge smile on her face, she couldn’t help but ask it another question.  "Is Emma getting her happy ever after?"   The resulting message sent a chill through her body.

University Hospital Newark, NJ Saturday Mid-Morning

When Liam arrived at the hospital a little before he was to meet with Doctor Hopper, his first inclination was to go directly to Killian's room.  He needed to see with his own eyes that Killian was indeed awake and that he hadn't merely been dreaming it were true. But as luck would have it, when he stepped off the elevator, the doctor was standing at the nurse's station waiting for him.

"Mr. Jones, I'm happy to see you.  Come with me."  

His abrupt greeting took Liam a little aback, but he followed the doctor around a corner and into an empty room, anxious to hear what he had to say.  "How is Killian?" he blurted without preamble.

When Doctor Hopper crossed his arms, leaned against the counter and looked at him from under his glasses, Liam prepared himself to hear the worst.

"Medically, your brother is doing surprisingly well. All his tests came back within normal ranges and I don't anticipate any residual damage.  He's very fortunate, but..."

He hesitated just a tad too long for Liam's comfort. "But what?  What is it you're not telling me?" His rapid speech was the only external sign of his anxiousness whereas internally his pulse was quickly escalating and his breathing becoming shallower by the minute.

The doctor must have realized how his comment had sounded because he immediately responded, "No, no.   Killian is fine.  But he's insisting that he's checking out of the hospital today.  I'm hoping you can talk some sense into him."

A relieved laugh burst out before he could stop it, and regaining a little decorum, he smiled at the doctor. "I'm sorry, Doctor," he shook his head at the thought, "but Killian stopped listening to me a long time ago. However, I'm willing to try."

Doctor Hopper nodded. "I certainly understand, as many times patients refuse to listen to family members when it comes to their care, unless of course," he took off his glasses and proceeded to clean them, "they're married.  Sometimes that helps, but not always. Now here's what he's saying...."

~~~CS~~~

Killian watched the lass as she tightened the brace around his knee one more time.  

"How does that feel?" she asked as she handed him a crutch to use for support.

"How do you think it feels?" He growled. "It feels fine.  Now can I walk?"

"Mr. Jones," she began in a placating tone, "your knee..."

Killian tried for patience but after what he had endured in the twelve-plus hours he had been awake, those reserves were all but depleted. "I'm not bloody daft," he interrupted her explanation, "I heard you the first and the second time.  Now can I walk?"

She inclined her head in agreement and helped him stand while supporting some of his weight. "Here's the crutch.  Don't try to move right away.  Let me know if you feel light headed."

Killian had to admit, but only to himself, that his body seemed weaker than a newborn babe’s and that the room had taken on the feel of an amusement park ride, but once he started breathing through the pain, he felt stronger.  Digging deep down inside, he put one foot in front of the other, and with the persistence and fortitude that he had learned from his parents, he walked across the room and back before collapsing onto the side of the bed. He had sweat pouring down his face, but refused to show pain, instead giving the therapist a cheeky smile. "Satisfied?"

Her glance told him that she was used to people behaving rudely when she was only trying to help, but he needed out of this bloody place.   There was someone in Boston that needed him, and he was tired of waiting. "Mr. Jones," she sighed as she took the crutch and leaned it against the bed. "You must remember all the instructions I gave you. Do not overtire yourself."

"I'm not likely to forget them as you've repeated them ad nauseum since you walked through that door.  Are we done?"

Killian watched her as she cleaned up her work paraphernalia and picked up his chart to make notes.  Was she one of the ones he’d heard speaking about the accident before he woke?   That they were outside his room and not right next to his bed had prevented him from hearing more clearly, but the words he did hear, they nearly tore him apart.  Those words seemed to add validity to what he heard Liam say.  And while unclear on what day the conversation had occurred, the meaning was very clear.  Emma was dead and not coming back to him.

Since waking last night and seeing his red-headed doctor, he hadn’t felt like doing much talking.  He had asked about Robin but hadn’t had the strength to ask about Emma, because…he already knew the answer.  Talking about it just made it more real and he wasn’t strong enough to deal with the fact that he would never see his Swan again.  Never hold her in his arms again…except in his dreams. There she was always waiting for him.  

The lass closed the chart, picked up her bag of equipment and checked the brace one more time before conspicuously leaving an ice pack nearby and exiting the room.  As soon as the door closed behind her, Killian let out the breath he had been holding and allowed his shoulders to droop with fatigue. Only alone would he allow the pain that was his constant companion to surface, as it could be construed as a weakness.  And he had no time for being weak. He had lost too much here in this place and each day he remained here, he felt his soul slowly being sucked away.  Now, the strength he gained from having Emma's love wrapped around him had become even more important.  He had to borrow on that strength to get on his feet enough to get back to Boston, because he knew what he needed in order to heal could no longer be found here.

As soon as the throbbing in his leg had become nothing but a dull ache, he contemplated using the ice pack.  But his hope was that as soon as Liam arrived, he would be able to leave and to do that he needed - a shower. The question was, could he make it on his own?

He eyed the bathroom door some six feet away and, positioning the crutch, he used it and the bed railing to manipulate himself onto his feet.  From there it was a less than a dozen miserable steps before he reached the door and entered the tiny room.  With no normal clothing to put on after showering, he took a couple of the arse-showing gowns and dropped them on the counter for easy reach. A flick of the wrist started the steamy water and, dropping the offending gown, he stepped in.

~~~CS~~~

As he walked toward Killian's room, Liam found himself rubbing an imaginary spot over his heart where Doctor Hopper had inadvertently shoved a dagger. His words, while innocent, had really brought his poor judgment right back and planted it squarely in his lap. The universe, it seemed, had decided that it was time for him to man-up, and he was feeling like it had brought everyone surrounding him to the party.  Now, the words, "unless they're married," kept reverberating inside his head, echoing louder and louder with each step he took until he had no choice but to confront them head on.  And what did he find?

His discovery was that the good doctor was probably right.   Had Emma been in the same hospital instead of across the country, Killian would have been willing to stay. He might have insisted that they share a room, but he would have been willing to cooperate and not so quick to leave University Hospital.  

What Liam hadn't uncovered in his musings was just how Killian even knew where she was, or that she had gone away for treatment.  As far as he was aware, no one even knew about the others in the car.  In fact, Doctor Hopper had mentioned that Killian had asked about Robin, and that had been the first time he had heard that name. Who, then, was talking out of turn? And now that Killian knew she was in Seattle, and Liam's less than chivalrous part in her transfer, would Killian's willingness to listen to his story be affected?

~~~CS~~~~~

Killian tied one gown in back and then slipped the other on in reverse, allowing himself some semblance of modesty.  Getting the brace back on in such a confined space proved difficult, but once he had succeeded, he felt better than he had since he'd been awake.  They had moved him all over the hospital, allowing every machine possible to study his brain, and following that, several others had asked him the same bloody things over and over again. It had been many grueling hours of questioning and by the time he returned to his room, he had been glad Liam hadn’t been there waiting for him.  Having to keep up his front of ‘being normal’ would have been too difficult, mostly because he knew that true normal was asking the impossible.

 ~~~CS~~~

Liam had been waiting for several minutes when Killian emerged from the washroom.  The only outward signs of his accident were the tiny cuts left on his face, the knee brace and crutch, and the pallor of his skin.  "Killian, I'm so relieved you're awake." He quickly moved to Killian's side to give him a hug and when Killian remained passive in his arms prepared himself to explain.  

"Aye, I'm awake." Killian answered matter-of-factly. "Did you bring me some clothes?"

Taken aback at his brusque tone, Liam held the bag out toward him, studying his face for some sign of what he was thinking or feeling. Without saying anything further, the bag was slipped over a shoulder and Killian retreated back behind closed doors, leaving him to try to piece together what had just happened and how to approach the conversation that would be the start of making things right between them, as brothers.  

~~~CS~~~

Killian collapsed against the closed door and felt tears spring to his eyes.  He had known it would be difficult to be near Liam, but discussing Emma with him, knowing how Liam felt about her, was too hard.  In his current condition, the strength he needed to process all of those emotions just wasn’t there.    With every cell in his body vibrating with pain, the only other overwhelming emotion he had room for was anger.  He was angry at himself, at Liam, at the doctors and even, god help him, at Emma; feelings he hadn’t had he lost his parents. "How am I going to get through this?" he whispered to the silent room, fighting against the need to slide down onto the cold hard floor and sob

He was unsure how long he had been in there before he heard rapping on the door followed by Liam’s voice,   “Killian, you alright?" and realized he needed to get dressed and get his brother to take him to the airport.  It was time to go.

~~~CS~~~~

The second time Killian emerged from the washroom, he was fully dressed with his brace over his jeans, leaning heavily on the crutch. And even though the look on his brother's face reminded him of the stubborn man he'd seen in the mirror for too many years, Liam took a deep breath and wandered into the minefield. "Killian, we need to talk about Emma," he blurted out.

Killian's head lifted quickly, his blue eyes steely as they bore into him.  "No, we don't." His words were measured, almost as if he were in pain. "I know about Emma."

Liam couldn't quite connect the pain in Killian's voice with the knowledge of Emma's whereabouts, because she was getting the best care possible.  If anything, he expected anger for the way he had behaved as an arsehole for years, and hadn't even succeeded in caring for Emma properly.  "But Killian, Emma is--"

 He hadn't been aware that an injured man could move as quickly as Killian did, but before he had even finished the sentence, Killian was snarling in his face, "Do not mention her name to me. When I am ready to talk, you will know.  Sound familiar?"

Liam was thrown right back into that room he had been hiding in after finding Lily and discovering her duplicitous nature, and it hit him this time like a punch to the gut.  His brother was behaving exactly like him.  He was pulled back to the present when he heard Killian say, "We'll be right there," and then hang up the phone.

"Where are you going, Killian?"

Killian gave him a hard stare as he turned toward the door. "To sign myself out of this place and then to the airport.  You taking me or do I get a cab?" he asked before he vanished out the door.

Liam took a look around the room and picked up the bag, slipping it over his shoulder.  "Pot, meet Kettle," he murmured as he followed.

Seattle-Grace Hospital Seattle, WA Early Saturday Morning PST

Mary Margaret didn't usually go into the hospital on Saturday, but after her session with Emma, and the glimpses into Emma's memories, she felt that a breakthrough could happen at any time.  Dropping her bag in her office, she took the elevator to the fourth floor, and when she arrived at Emma's room, the sight that greeted her nearly broke her heart.  

Emma was sitting up in bed, her sketch pad on her lap, head bowed, her shoulders shaking as giant, silent sobs shook her body.   Knowing that she should never get so emotionally attached to a patient but realizing she was too far gone, Mary Margaret did the only thing she could do.  She took the lost girl in her arms and let her cry until no more tears were left.

As Emma's tears quieted, Mary Margaret handed her a tissue, watching as she wiped her eyes, blew her nose, and once again gained control. "Do you want to tell me about it?"  In her experience talking about one's feelings helped, however, when it was suspected that feelings or emotions were the cause of what brought the patient to her, it became more of a delicate matter.  

Emma's silence was almost off-putting, but watching the emotions flit across her face told her all she needed to know.  When she handed over the sketchbook, her face telling a story of its own, Mary Margaret was almost hesitant to look down, but once she did, a smile graced her face as she gazed back at the patient.  "You remembered this?”

Emma hesitantly nodded her head.  Studying the picture, Mary Margaret was once again in awe of the talent exhibited before her.  Emma had drawn three girls standing close together, arms around each other, as if a team, and huge smiles on their faces. "Is this you?" She pointed to one of the girls on the end.   Emma shook her head yes.   "This is excellent work.  Were you awake when the memory returned?"

Emma reached for the ever-present whiteboard and wrote, "No.  Dream."

"Ah, ok.  Let's see if you can remember more about this time in your life, alright?"

Nodding her head eagerly, Mary Margaret gently prodded at the edges of Emma's brain, asking subtle questions about the picture.  Emma remembered generalities; she felt happy and carefree, the other girls were her best friends and they had eaten snow cones, each of them liking a different flavor.  "Search the picture in your mind Emma," Mary Margaret instructed, "can you hear their name?

She watched as Emma closed her eyes and waited.  When she opened them, her response was immediate, in that she grabbed the sketch pad and drew another object next to them, before writing something next to the two girls that were not her.  When she handed over the sketch pad, Mary Margaret read the names, "Red and Ella," thinking nicknames, but a wonderful start. Her eyes were then drawn to the new object that had been drawn. "And this, Emma.  Do you remember playing with this?"

Emma shook her head and pointed to Red and Ella. "You remember playing with it alongside Red and Ella?"

 Another nod.  "Do you remember what it's called?"

This time, Emma shook her head indicating that she didn't remember.  "It's called a Magic 8 Ball."

Group Home Boston, MA Saturday Late Morning

With Blue's assurances that if anything had happened to Emma, they would know, ringing in her ears, Ruby had allowed herself to be swept up helping to set up for the post-graduation festivities. They cleaned and rearranged furniture and then hung streamers and decorated several tables. Finger foods that didn't need refrigeration were arranged on one and a place for a wedding cake that would be delivered later was made on another.  

Ruby moved from group to group, helping fill balloons with helium in one place to supplying tape to a group hanging signs of congratulations in another.  She tied ribbons on balloons and attached them to chairs and railings.  She lifted the smaller children up so they could help with decorating and carted a large trash bag around collecting the wrapping that had been dropped on the floor in the excitement.

Eventually, the melancholy returned and taking a bunch of balloons and a roll of streamers, Ruby left the chaos of the house for the quiet oasis in the backyard. The minute she stepped out the door, the peacefulness of the surroundings calmed her as they had so often when she was growing up.  She quickly decorated the porch railing with the balloons and streamers and then made her way to the swing that had been hanging from a large tree branch for as long as she could remember. The same tree she remembered climbing as a child to peer through the branches and that she used to hide behind during hide-and-seek.  It was the same tree under which she, Ashley and Emma used to spread a blanket and play with their dolls.

"Ashley," Ruby smiled at her friend as she smoothed out her doll's dress, "meet, Annie.  What did you name yours?"

Ashley picked up one of Ruby's doll's hands. "Pleased to meet ya, Annie," she giggled before she stood her doll up, too. "Meet Ella."

"Well hello, Ella," Ruby greeted the doll in a high-pitched voice.  “How are you?"

Ruby remembered Emma hadn't been outside with them because she had been sick with a fever, and Blue had suggested they let Emma sleep. However, as was usually the case without their third musketeer, they had quickly gotten bored and packed up their dolls, ending up on the floor of their bedroom, while Emma and her doll had played from afar.  

"Ready, Ella?" Annie asked her new friend.

"I'm ready, Annie," answered Ella. "Let's go find out what our new neighbor's name is."

"Yes, let's," Annie agreed as they started walking toward the 'house' next door. "Knock, knock," Ruby made the sound as if her doll were knocking.

Emma had picked up her doll and walked her across the blanket on her bed and pretended to open a door. "Hello."

"Welcome to the neighborhood," Annie said to the new friend, "I'm Annie and this is Ella.

"Thank you," the new friend said. "It's nice to meet you, Ella, Annie.  My name is Kate."

"Hello, Kate," they said in unison."Such good memories," Ruby murmured as she came back to the present when she heard Henry calling her name. "Coming, Henry."

Seattle Grace Hospital Seattle, WA Saturday Late Morning

Her eyes cataloged what they saw looking back at her in the mirror.   Long, blonde hair lying limp against her skull, bright green eyes rimmed by huge purple bruises and a swollen face covered with...yes, more bruises, these ranging in colors from the darkest purple to the lightest yellow.

"Who am I?"  She asked the face silently.

"Your name is Emma Swan," the doctor with the kind blue eyes had told her.

"But who is Emma Swan?" she pleaded. "Why don't I remember her?"

He hadn't said anything more because, really, what could he say?  He had just continued watching her, but not with pity in his eyes.  They had contained concern, care and even empathy.

The eyes in the mirror, though, they looked lost, and even though she had been told that her name was Emma Swan, she couldn't connect that name with any familiarity.   "Are you sure?" She asked again, the pain and frustration evident even inside her own head.  

"Yes.  Trust us." This time she could hear another voice added to his.  Mary Margaret, the woman with the soft eyes and gentle voice, had joined them.  "It will come, Emma.  We will work on it, together."

Together?  Why did that sound so familiar?  But the words were just slightly off, different than what Mary Margaret had said, but they were stuck inside her head. With the word reverberating inside her mind, she crawled onto the uncomfortable bed and fell into a restless sleep.  

She dreamed she was standing next to a large tree, it's branches stretching tall toward the sky. She could see a swing hanging on one side of the tree and if she listened carefully, she could hear the tinkling laughter of other children. Backing away from the trunk, she looked up into the branches to see the face of someone looking back at her.  With a mischievous grin, the face disappeared from view.

"Wait.  Wait. Come back." But before she had even finished her thought, the scene had faded from view.

Tired and feeling alone, she curled up into a ball as tight as possible and allowed herself a few moments of grief. It seemed that she had just settled when she heard, "Hello," being called faintly, ever so faintly.

"Hello.  What is your name?"  a disembodied voice called quietly to her right.  

She turned quickly to ask them whom they were talking to before they faded from sight, just like the other scenes she had pictured, and then lost just as quickly.  But before she could give voice to her question, from her left another voice filled the air, " My name is Kate."

The voice was so close and so familiar that she whipped her head to the left and found herself looking into...a much younger version of herself holding a raggedy doll. "My name is Kate," the young girl said again.

"Kate," she repeated. It felt right. "Kate," she said again.  This time it felt more familiar. "Kate," she said a third time, and the name felt more comfortable still.  She needed that.  She needed to feel comfortable with the person she was right now.  "My name is Kate.  It's Kate." She felt like she had taken ownership of it and for the first time since she had woken up in this place, she felt a glimmer of hope.  

Her eyes popped open, and taking her sketch pad, she drew the scene with the girl in the tree.  She wasn't positive, but thought maybe she had drawn that girl before.  Next to the tree, she drew a simple sketch of her younger self and the doll and then wrote next to it, “My name is Kate Swan.

As she studied that name, she realized that the graceful, elegant Swan name no longer fit the person she saw in the mirror.  She needed a name that made her feel comfortable and safe. With that thought, she marked out the entire sentence and tried again.  Once she had completed the task, she put away the pencils and promptly fell into a deep sleep where she waited for the eyes to come to her.

~~~CS~~~~

An hour later, David Nolan stopped by to check on his new patient and found her drawing lying on the bed, as if waiting for inspection.  "Oh, no," he whispered as he read what she had written.

He decided that Mary Margaret needed to see the new development and slowly slipped the paper out of the book to take with him.  "I hope this isn't a permanent problem," he murmured.

She had written, "My name is Kate Blue."

Hospital for Special Surgery New York, NY Saturday, Early Afternoon

Regina stood outside the door of the rehabilitation room and watched Will put Robin through the paces of learning to transfer from the bed to a chair and back again.  With every try, his moves became easier and more natural, but with his shirt sticking to chest, she could tell the exertion was taking its toll and he would tire soon. She knew he was pushing himself because he wanted to get out of the hospital, but she also worried about him. She didn't want him to push so hard as to risk injury because, according to his doctors, he was on schedule to be discharged before the following weekend. She was looking forward to taking him home so they could see where things would go between them.

And then there were the two pieces of news her mother had shared with her. While both inadvertently involved Killian, one more directly than the other, she knew as soon as she told Robin, he was going to be anxious to speak with Killian himself. The fact that their line of communication had been cut off since the accident had been difficult for him.  He needed to assure himself that his friend of many years was okay, and that Robin cared so deeply made her love him even more.  

And the second piece of news, while not entirely a shock, did surprise her just a little as she thought Nemo would want to hang around and make sure that all was well with Killian and Emma.  However, according to her mother, they were flying out bright and early the next day to spend the summer traveling wherever the whim took them. Her mother even said that during part of the trip, they might not even have the ability to communicate with the outside world.  Afraid of what her mother’s answer would be if she had questioned more, Regina had instead wished them well and hung up the phone.  

And now, they had to not only worry about Killian and where he was flying off to, but why no one seemed to have any information about Emma’s injuries.   That, in and of itself, was a bit concerning.    Her current working theory was that Blue had been notified of Emma’s accident and had her moved back to Boston to be close to her friends.   Deciding it would be a good time to catch up with Elsa before any other interruptions occurred, Regina dialed her number.   It would be a good way to pass the time while she waited for Robin to finish his therapy.

 Group Home Boston, MA Saturday, Mid-Afternoon

"Elsa," she heard Anna call her name in a voice just a little too loud.

"Go 'way," she managed to mumble before settling a little deeper into her pillow.

"Elsa.  Wake up!" Anna repeated a little louder, and this time added shaking her shoulder, making her feel like she was on a boat being tossed around by high waves.

Elsa swallowed hard to push down the bile that had risen in her throat and cracked open one eye.  When the spinning room joined the bell choir in her head, she groaned and shut her eye again. "Later… Wake later..."

"Elsa.  Your phone has been vibrating like crazy.  Weren't you going to Emma's graduation? What did you have to drink?" Everything was blurted out in one breath.

When Anna was excited, she often spoke quickly, but Elsa had always been able to understand her.  Today, however, it felt like her thoughts were mired in molasses.  Taking them apart piece by piece, she bypassed the part about her phone and went straight to Emma's graduation.  Was she going to the graduation? "Ugh," she groaned as she pushed up into a sitting position and had a moment of panic before remembering that she wasn't going to the ceremony but just to the party.  "I must be coming down with something.  What time is it?"

"Around 3:00, I think. And you didn't answer.  What did you drink last night?"  She humphed and handed over two Tylenol and a glass of water.

Draining the glass, Elsa handed it to Anna and buried her face in her hands, waiting for the medication to stop the pounding in her head. "I just had some New York Iced Tea, that's all.  Why do you keep asking me what I had to drink? You know that I only have a little wine now and then."

"True, but this time I'm asking because the girls who brought you home last night were all giggly and said, "Oh don't mind her, she had too much to drink." She shook her head and handed Elsa a plate with a dry piece of toast on it.  "Here, eat this."

Picking up the toast, Elsa absently nibbled on it while thinking over what Anna had said. "But that can't be right.  I told you, I was just drinking New York Iced Teas."  She dropped the half-eaten toast back on the plate and prayed it stayed down.

"Elsa," Anna prodded gently, "by New York Iced Teas, do you mean Long Island Iced Teas?"

All of a sudden Elsa had a quick memory of the cute guy behind the bar saying, "Whatever you want to call them, doll, but be careful as they pack a punch."  And she had giggled. She groaned again.  "Maybe a hot shower before the party will help." Slowly, she pushed off the sofa, which apparently was as far as she made it when she got home, and headed toward the bathroom.  

"Don't you want to check your phone?  It might be important," Anna called to her just before she left the room.

Did she want to check the messages now?  Not really.  "I'll check them when I get out.  It's probably just Ruby wanting me to pick up some last-minute item." With that, she shut the door and hoped a hot shower was powerful magic for what ailed her.

Harvard Campus Boston, MA Saturday, Late Afternoon

Henry sat next to Ruby on the hard metal chair, swinging his feet back and forth. He was feeling uncomfortable because he had to wear a shirt and a tie and he didn't like its tight fit. He had tried using Killian's motto of it being important for his chest to breathe, but Blue had rolled her eyes at him and told him to get dressed. That had been hours ago, and now here he sat being strangled by his tie, even though secretly he felt very important that he was the only kid who had been invited to Emma and Killian's graduation.

"Ruby," he whispered, "when does it start?”

She smiled down at him and patted him on the leg. "Oh, not for a while yet."

"Then why," he frowned at her, "are we here so early?"

"Because, silly," she grinned, "we wanted a good seat."

Henry looked around at the sea of people sitting around him and mentally shrugged his shoulders.  If she says so, he thought as he went back to swinging his legs to see how close he could get to the chair in front of him without actually touching it.  When he accidentally kicked it and the lady sitting in there turned around and gave him a dirty look, he gave her what Blue always referred to as his charming smile. He thought about continuing the game, but when Ruby laid her hand on his leg, he humphed and stopped.  Adults can be so annoying, he thought as he tucked his hands under his legs and resumed looking around.

But that thought brought him to the way that Blue, Ruby and even Marion had been acting all week since they had told him that Emma and Killian had gone away for a few days.  They thought that just because he was a kid, he didn't notice these things, but he was ten-years-old, after all.  Something was up, he was sure of it, and those extra decorations at the Home were a part of it.  

"Ruby," he leaned closer, "why are there so many people here?"

"Because there are a lot of people graduating," she answered.

He thought that over for a few seconds before asking, "So how does this graduation work?"

“Well," she began in a patient voice, "in a minute all of the graduates will come in and sit down.  Then there will be speeches.  Then they will call out names, and once the graduates leave, then we can too."

"This is going to take forever, isn't it?" he sighed.

"Probably," she agreed.  "Want to play something on my phone while we wait?"

"I guess," he grunted.  Her phone didn't have as many fun games on it as his did, but it was better than nothing.  Settling on one, he kept busy until the music started and he could keep an eye out for Emma, Killian and Robin.

Hospital for Special Surgery New York, NY Saturday, Late Afternoon

Robin had known the minute Regina appeared outside the rehab room, and when she didn't immediately come inside assumed she was allowing him time to complete his therapy.  But when she shoved her phone in her pocket and he caught the frown that made its way across her face, he knew there was more to the picture.

"We ‘bout done here, Will?  My lady looks lonely.”

Will looked toward where Regina was standing and back at Robin. "Look like a lovesick fool, you do."

"That's because I am," Robin agreed cheekily. "We done?  I need to say hello properly.”

Will smirked at his comment. "'Ere, 'ere.  None of that 'ere in the 'ospital."

"Not even a little?" Robin inquired, "Especially if she's the love of your life," he finished quietly.

"Like that, is it?" Robin nodded his head. "Then I say, if you're lucky enough to find someone that you love, and she loves you, you grab on with both hands and don't let go."

"Oh, I don't plan on letting go...ever." Robin finished just as the lady in question walked up.

"What are you two so deep in discussion about?" Regina asked them, lifting a thin eyebrow.

Her prissy voice, thought Robin, reaching for her hand to draw her close, really turned him on.  Of course, if he told her that, she might very well tell him to sod off, so he just grinned and kissed her hand. "Oh, we were just discussing what type of behaviors might not be appropriate in the hospital. Would you like to guess?" He did his best to give her a lascivious smile, and when she blushed knew he had succeeded.  

"Oh?  I'm sure I can guess." She cut her eyes away from his to look around the room as if afraid of what else might be said.

Her insecurities were so endearing that he found it difficult not to pull her down onto his lap and show her a thing or two that might not be appropriate in the hospital, but things he really wanted to experience with her. "Am I free to go, Will?" he asked without dragging his eyes away from Regina.

Will sighed dramatically, "Off with you, then," and turned the wheelchair handles toward Regina.  "See you Monday."

"Thanks, Will," Robin called as Regina pushed the chair out of the rehab room and into the hallway. 

"Where to, Robin?  Do you want to get some fresh air?”

Did he want to go outside where there might be dozens of other families visiting on a Saturday afternoon or back to the privacy of his room?  "Can we go back to the room first?"

She didn't say anything as she pushed him back to his room, but he could tell something was on her mind.  He hoped that once they were settled where it was quiet, she would open up to him about what was going on to cause such a frown.

“Here we are." She pushed his chair over beside the window. "Would you like something to drink?"

He nodded his head and watched her get him a glass of water, and while he drank it, she kept tucking her hair behind her ear and worrying the lipstick off her lips.  He handed the cup back for her to set on the table and when she turned back his way, he pulled her down onto the arm of the chair and back into his arms.  "This is what I really need," he said against her lips just before taking possession of them.  The minute she gave in, he kissed her with the pent-up feelings he'd been holding onto. After longing for her for months, being with her but not really with her was rather hard and if they didn't stop, painful might have to be added to the description.  

She felt so good in his arms, he groaned with pleasure, not realizing it could have misinterpreted when she pushed out of his arms and stood up. "Robin, I'm sorry," she apologized. "Are you in pain?  Should I call the nurse?"

He gave her a cheeky smile and pointedly looked down at his lap and back up at her.  "I'm not sure this kind of pain fits under her job description, do you?"

When she realized what he had said, her eyes widened in surprise and her cheeks blushed.  "Oh, you," she exclaimed quietly.  

"I'll behave," he promised.  "Sit with me and tell me why you were frowning earlier.”

Boston, MA Saturday Late Afternoon

When Elsa came out of the bathroom with a head that was only slightly pounding, she considered it a win.  She settled into an overstuffed chair and, with her feet tucked underneath her, leaned her head against the back.  "How could I be so dumb?”

"Oh, that's easy," Anna piped up.

Elsa lifted her head giving her sister a dirty look. "Gee, thanks."

Anna grinned and shrugged her shoulder. "You're welcome. Now check your phone.  Do you need me, cause if not I'm off to the hospital?" She gathered her things, ready to leave no matter what the answer ended up being. 

Elsa figured there was more to that story than she knew but decided it could wait 'til another day.  "I'm good.  Where's my phone?"

Picking it up off the table, Anna tossed it in her lap and was out the door with only a brief wave.  

Elsa stared at the closed door and again wondered what was going on with Anna, but with a shake of her head she mentally saved it for later. Picking up her phone, she looked at it expecting to see a message from Ruby asking her to pick up something for the party.  Instead there were multiple messages from Regina as well as a voicemail"Elsa, It's Regina.  I'm sorry that I disappeared with no warning, but something happened.  Give me a call when you get this message and I'll try to explain."

"Oh no," Elsa murmured as she dialed Regina's cell phone. "Pick up.  Come on, pick up," she chanted over and over.

"Hello," she heard Regina answer somewhat breathlessly.

"Regina.  It's Elsa. What happened?"  As the entire story came out, Elsa found herself unable to sit still and, pushing up, paced back and forth in front of the chair.

She learned about Robin and that he was in a hospital in New York City.  Regina then went on to explain that Killian had been in a coma for a few days but had awakened and been taken to Newark airport.  There the story got murkier as no one knew exactly where he had gone.  

But that wasn't the biggest mystery.  The biggest mystery surrounded Emma and her injuries.   Because everyone knew that if Emma had still been in the hospital, Killian would have been by her side. Not wanting to jump to any conclusions until she had talked to Killian, she shoved the worry aside for the moment but the question remained.  What had become of Emma?

"Oh, Regina. How awful for you to have to get that call. But I'm glad Robin has you.  How are things between you two?"  Elsa was curious as to how much Regina would confess now that her title as Robin's professor was over.

"Things are good, Elsa.  In fact, really good.  He's going to stay with me when he's discharged from here."

"I'm so happy to hear that.  You both deserve such happiness.  Do you mind if I speak with Robin a minute, just to assure myself he's fine.”

She heard Regina hand Robin the phone, and their conversation was so intimate and so different from the last time that she had seen them together that she couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face nor the tears that filled her eyes.   They had waited so long to be together and now, though tragedy had struck, they had each other.  "Elsa?" her friend's voice came through the line. "How are you?"

"How am I, you big dumbass?   How are you?  I really should kick your ass when I see you for not letting me know about the accident sooner.   I'm so mad at you," she sniffed, "but very happy that you finally got the girl.” 

Robin chuckled, "Breathe, Elsa.  You sounded a bit too much like Anna there for a second.   I'm fine and I'm sorry you worried." She heard him ask Regina what day it was before he continued, "How was graduation?”

"It was graduation.  But tell me about you."  She learned a little more about what was in his near future, medically and that he hoped to be out of the hospital the following week.  

She promised him that as soon as they hung up, she would go see if she could track down Killian.  

She heard Robin hand the phone back to Regina. "He's really okay?”

Elsa could hear the smile in Regina's voice, "He's more than okay, Elsa.  But yes, he's going to be fine.  He's getting great care, and when I get him home I'm going to give him even better care."

She overheard Robin make a suggestive remark. "Hey TMI!" she exclaimed, "I didn't need to hear that!" and laughed at Regina scolding Robin.  They are going to be just fine, she thought before pulling her thoughts back to her other friend involved in the accident. "What can I do from this end?"

"You really didn't know anything about the accident?" Regina had taken control of the phone again and the tone of her voice said she had expected someone else had relayed the information about the accident.

"No, nothing." She chewed on her bottom lip thinking that right now, Ruby, Henry, and Blue were waiting for Emma's name to be called at graduation. "Which means that neither do Ruby or Blue or any of Emma's other friends.  I need to go and let them know."

"Thanks, Elsa.  Please call or send a text if you find Killian or if you find out anything about Emma.”

Hanging up the phone, Elsa felt a sense of urgency take hold and ran to the bedroom to throw on a pair of jeans and an old shirt.  She had just slipped on her sneakers when there was a knock at the door.  On the way to answer it, she drew a brush through her still wet hair and pulled it into a high ponytail. When she opened the door, all rational responses flew out of her head as she was left gasping at the sight before her.

Killian Jones, who always looked put together, was anything but. He was on his feet, but barely, his body seeming to sag against the wall and his knuckles standing out white where he was gripping the crutch too tightly.  His face was pale against his dark beard that had grown long and scraggly, and when he opened his eyes, his haunted gaze pierced her very soul.  She knew before he even opened his mouth that it was going to be bad. "Killian?" she whispered brokenly as the tears sprang to her eyes.

He swallowed audibly, obviously attempting to hold himself under control. "The key, Elsa.  Please tell me you have the key." His whisper was that of a soul who had been tortured and was hanging on by a minuscule thread.

She felt a tear trickle over, spilling down her cheek as she reached on a shelf and picked up Emma's extra key.  With measured steps, she advanced toward him, handing it to him carefully.  "Emma? Killian, where's Emma?"

He closed his eyes, and with moisture leaking from the corners, whispered words she expected, but she wasn't ready to hear, "She's gone, Elsa.  Emma is gone."

The shock of the words hit her with such force her phone fell out of her hands and bounced on the stairs, shattering. She couldn't move, feeling as if she were paralyzed with her feet nailed in place.  Unsure what to say or how to comfort this man who had loved her friend more than life itself, she reached out to squeeze his arm, but he shrank away from her comfort.

"I can't. I need time." His body sagged even further as he turned away to open the door.

Her mind was going in a million directions, thinking of all the things that needed to be done. "Has anyone notified Blue?" she finally asked him. When he shook his head no, she decided that she would do this for her friend.  "I'll handle it.  Do you need anything?"

He didn't say anything right away, just leaned his forehead against the door of their apartment. Finally, he lifted his head and whispered so softly, that she had to strain to hear him, "Emma.  I just need Emma."

New York City, NY Saturday, Early Evening

On the way to Newark International Airport, Liam had tried several times to get Killian to open up to him, but the way every attempt was shut down, it seemed that the brothers had truly switched places. This time, Killian was the one who wouldn't listen or talk, which reiterated what a wanker Liam had been for years.  And now within the span of a week, his brother and the woman he planned to make his wife had unknowingly started mending the pieces that had once been his heart; the heart that had shattered on that fateful day when he had walked into his apartment and found that his ideas of love and commitment were not the same as the woman he had married. He was finally admitting that he had become a bitter man who cared for no one's feelings but his own and who had treated his only living family as if he was still the lad he needed to protect. The man he had become was not someone he liked looking at in the mirror.  Was he strong enough to put his heart and his family back together again.

Arriving home, he dropped his phone, keys and wallet on the table next to the door and immediately walked to the large set of windows lining one side.  As dusk settled over the city, the lights spread out before him, reaching as far as the eye could see.  And here he stood all alone, which was just what he deserved.  

He had stopped by the office, thinking since it was Saturday, he might as well catch up on some of the work he had put off while spending time at the hospital.  But even that had proven to be a bad idea, as he had spent nearly the entire time staring off into space.  His thoughts had been on Killian.  Worrying about Killian, except...this time, it wasn't just Killian, but also Emma's well-being that occupied his mind.  And that was a foreign concept for him, thinking of someone else.   Caring about someone that he had never really met.  

Finally accepting that he wasn’t going to get any work done, he hadn't been ready to go home to a too-quiet place, and ended up at the gym. However, after only a mile on the treadmill, he had given it up and taken a walk through Central Park.  Once again, as he walked his thoughts had been on Killian and Emma and the journey they had ahead of them.  According to the doctor, Emma's injuries were substantial, and she would need a strong support system.  Would Killian be all she needed?  If not, and she needed more, was it possible that he, too, would be allowed into their circle? Could they forgive his behavior?

Emma and her wounds filled his mind, and wondering how long it would be before she was well, he turned on his laptop and researched her injuries.  His findings led him to believe that by sometime in August, her broken bones would be healed and the surgeries to replace her facial bones and teeth would be completed.  Meaning that before the fall, perhaps, they would have a chance to work together to be a family. Was that possible?

When the plastic bag with Emma's belongings caught his eye, he wondered if he had the courage to get to know her through the photos on her phone, something he hadn't had the strength to do just a few days ago.  The fact that it was still in his apartment and not with Killian brought to mind other questions.  Why hadn’t he given it to his brother?  Had he worried he'd have to explain why he had it? Perhaps.  Had he worried Killian would have demanded taking it to her right then?  Possibly.  But more than likely, it was because he hadn't been thinking about her, but about Killian and what Killian needed.  Another situation where he had thought of his brother as a lad and not a man.

When the screen on her phone lit up with an incoming text, he blinked several times, wondering whom it was from.  Did they know about the accident?  Unable to stop himself, he opened the bag and pulled out the phone, holding it out in front of him as if it were going to explode in his hand if he moved too quickly or brought it too close. It vibrated again as he stared at it, and noticing that there were multiple messages, his thumb hovered over the screen...until...he slid it across, and the image would be forever engraved on his mind. 

He was looking at a picture of a man and a woman who were so totally besotted with each other that the world around them seemed to not exist.  The look, he was more than familiar with as it had been the same look his parents had given each other when they had been alive.  A look that said you are my everything.  A look, he acknowledged, that he had never shared with Lily. His little brother had been lucky to find the person who gave him that look.  Damn, little brother, how did you get so lucky?

Scrolling through her photos, he began to get a feel of the woman behind the pretty face.  There were pictures of her with not only Killian and Robin, but with other women.   A brunette and two blondes, a redhead, all smiling or laughing. Several older women and children, even the little boy Liam vaguely remembered from the report he had been given.  Was he Emma's as the investigator assumed? 

Liam placed Emma's phone back inside the bag and tucked it into the corner of his desk.  If Killian stayed in Seattle with her the entire time she was recuperating, then he had a few months to try to become a man that Killian could look in the eye and respect.  To try to become that brother that he deserved.  He was determined that when they arrived, he would be waiting with open arms and an open heart.  

 Boston, MA Saturday Early Evening    

As soon as Elsa was gone, Killian slipped the key in the lock and pushed open the door.  He knew returning was going to hurt but nothing had prepared him for the distress he felt when the memories bombarded him the minute he stepped over the threshold. Kissing her against the door, loving her on the sofa, watching her sit at the table and study.  One by one, the memories washed over him, causing him to feel so desolate that he was forced to lean on the sofa to maintain his balance.

When he pushed off, it took every ounce of strength he had left not to run out of the room but to move farther inside, closer to the spot where, during the last night they spent under this roof, he had asked her to marry him for the second time.  But this time, he had slipped a ring on her finger.  His words haunted him in how true they had proven to be.

"Swan, I know there are parts of our immediate future that are uncertain, but I want you to be sure of one thing.  And that is that I will always, always be by your side."

However, he had failed her, and he had to live with that knowledge for the rest of his days.  But how?  How did one live without one's heart?  She had been his heart, and without her in his arms and by his side, he felt that his heart had been ripped from his chest and crushed, a description that he had heard before from Liam.  Was that the destiny of the Jones men?  To forever be alone?

A few measured steps and his question was answered when his eye caught a picture of Emma, Henry and him, taken when they had gone whale watching. So, no, he might be without his mate, but he was not alone.  There was Henry who needed him now...but could he give him everything he needed with a missing heart? After all, there was only one Killian Jones.  Was there still enough to go around?

She's everywhere, he thought, as he picked up one of the sketch pads he never saw her without. The dates on the inside cover indicated the drawings were before he had moved to the states, but as with any of her work, he was immediately captivated. He found his eye drawn again and again to her renderings of Captain Hook and how closely her imagination had made him Killian Jones' twin, creating a feeling they had met in another realm and had been searching for their other halves to make them whole.

"And I did, Swan," he whispered as his finger traced the drawing, imagining he was holding Emma's hand as she moved it over the paper.  "I searched my whole life to find you, and now..." the words died as a sob bubbled up inside and the pages blurred.  The pain becoming too much to bear, he tossed the book aside, making his way to the bathroom to take a hot shower.  As the water creaked through the old pipes, he took off the brace and groaned in pain as his knee protested.  Dropping the clothes Liam had given him earlier, he stepped into the hot shower and let the steady pulsing spray pound against his aching head.

It didn't take long, though, for his mind to no longer find rest under the hot water, because as it splashed, Emma's scent quickly filled the space. Within minutes all he could feel were her soft arms circling his waist, her womanly body pressing against his back and her hands working their magic until he had taken her against the wall.   Turning his face up to the shower spray, the water mingled with his tears, and as the despair rose up from inside, his cry echoed around him sounding more like a wounded animal than that of a man.

He stayed that way until the water ran cold, and then hauled his weary body out, drying and dressing in an old tee and sleep pants.  A glance in the mirror told him it wasn't Killian Jones looking back at him, but the scraggly beard reminded him of the Liam as he had looked…was it just last weekend? Using his electric razor, he quickly straightened his beard until once again, the scruff in place, he was looking at the man he had been for the past few months.    But that man didn't feel right, either.  He had told Robin that unshaven Killian had given him luck.  But unshaven Killian now was only feeling pain.   Before he could change his mind, the scruff was gone and a clean-faced Killian Jones' eyes met his in the mirror. The eyes couldn't be fixed as easily. The eyes were windows to his soul, and they showed the truth.  

Leaving his image behind, he walked into the bedroom where Emma's easel was the thing he saw first.  She had placed it next to the bed before they left, telling him that as soon as they returned, she would show him his gift.  Could he look at it without her?  Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and slowly reached out his hand to yank off the covering.  As the picture slowly came into view, he found his legs would no longer support his weight and slid down onto the edge of the bed, instantly transported back in time.

"I believe when two souls are destined to meet, when they become one, nothing can pull them apart.  Today, with these beads, I thee wed for as long as this rock, this earth, this sea and the sky shall live.  And I promise you that I will never forget these beads and our promise to each other and what they stand for. I love you Killian."

"And I promise to always be there when you need me and to never, ever say goodbye to you. I love you Emma."

She had painted their cliff with the rock and the water and the trees, blended together on the canvas as if they were living and breathing. When he closed his eyes, he could smell the seawater, feel the breeze blowing across his skin and hear her telling him how much she loved him in that sweet voice he loved so much, and as the pain washed over him, he couldn't breathe.  

Falling back, he buried his face in the pillows and let everything inside bubble over and spill out.  The smell of her surrounded him, bringing with it not comfort, but more pain, squeezing his chest painfully until he gasped for breath and slid down onto the floor.  As the tears cascaded down his face, his eyes stared up at her creation and rocking back and forth, he whispered, "I love you, Swan," over and over again.

Boston, MA Saturday Evening  

When the car was parked in front of the Home, Blue sent Henry inside to change before turning to Ruby. "This wasn't your fault." She hoped to calm her down, as she had noticed how tightly Ruby was gripping the steering wheel on the way home.

Ruby didn't say anything for a few minutes, just stood there worrying her bottom lip before she finally mumbled, "But the-"

"No buts," Blue interrupted before any negative thoughts could be spoken where they might take root and grow.  "No black ball is able to tell you the future. I told you girls that when you were growing up, and it’s still true today."

"I know, Blue.  But this isn't like Emma." She looked at her watch. "And Victor will be here in thirty minutes for us to catch our flight, so...”

Hooking her arm with Ruby's, Blue directed them toward the house. "I know you're worried, Ruby, and so am I, but you have a responsibility to be on that ship for the next six months.  I will keep you posted.”

"Promise?" Ruby sighed, knowing there was really no other option.

"I promise." As soon as she felt Ruby relax, Blue squeezed her hand and continued, "Since we stayed on campus waiting, Ashley and Elsa should already be inside.  Let's go see if they've heard from Emma or Killian."

Walking toward the door, something told Blue that once inside they wouldn't find out any more information about Emma than they already knew, and were going to have to expand their questioning.  She felt her mama bear protective streak rising up inside her, something she hadn't had to use since the incident with Neal, and knew that she wouldn't rest until she had found all the answers she needed.

Seattle, WA Saturday, Early Evening PST

David slipped behind his wife and wrapped his arms around her, resting his hands on the gentle swell of her stomach. "How are we feeling?"

"We," she leaned back against him, "are feeling fine.  How was your emergency?"

He helped her set the table, and once they had each helped themselves to the various Chinese takeout items he had brought home, filled her in on what had taken him to the hospital on a Saturday afternoon.

When he was finished with his story, Mary Margaret contemplated him with her professional eye. "There's more, isn't there David?" she asked him quietly.

He should have known she would be able to see right through him as he slowly got up from his chair and pulled the picture from his briefcase.  "I stopped by to check on Emma on my way out and found this."  He handed her the picture.

He watched her catch her breath as she studied the drawing and when she looked up, her eyes were glassy.  "Oh dear.  That poor girl."

David wasn't sure he had ever seen her so empathetic over an amnesiac before and pulling her into his arms, letting her cry on his shoulder. "If she's calling herself Kate Blue, can Emma Swan find her way back?”

It took her a few minutes to control herself but when she did, she picked up the picture once again.  "Emma's in pain for some reason, but yes.  She will be back, stronger and more beautiful than ever. Until then, if she feels stronger as Kate Blue, then I’m going to allow it.  But I’ll never stop trying to get her to remember Emma.  You can count on that." 

Boston, MA Saturday Evening EST

Henry wasn't stupid and could tell that the adults were worried about Emma and Killian, but thought if they kept it to themselves, he wouldn't know. He knew.  He also knew that Blue was trying to act calm for the sake of all the other adults around her, but he had caught her wiping her eyes with a tissue.  He knew it was something bad.  

Ruby and Victor had driven off a while ago after a lot of hugging and tears, but after she had promised to send him some really cool stuff, he had given her one more hug and waved goodbye.  Ashley and Sean were somewhere in the house with their baby, Alex, trying to get her to go to sleep, and everyone else was waiting for Elsa. Apparently, her sister, Anna, had told Blue that Elsa had planned on attending the party, but no one had heard directly from Elsa herself.   He had to wonder about adults sometimes, as he got in trouble if he didn't check in. Yet, here it was almost a week since he'd heard from Emma and Killian and he hadn’t heard from them.  He didn't think Roland had heard from Robin either, and yet, chances were, they didn’t see anything wrong with their actions. There was something wrong with that picture, as Blue would say.

Watching out the window of his bedroom, he caught sight of Elsa running up the walk, and without thinking he took off down the stairs.  He reached the first floor just in time to see Blue quiet her and then quickly lead her down the hall toward the offices. He followed quietly, taking care not to step on the squeaky boards and listened outside the door.

"Blue," Elsa took deep breaths and tried to get her breathing under control. "Have you heard about the accident?"

"Accident?  No nothing. Tell me." Blue sounded upset but he didn’t think she was crying yet.

Elsa told Blue about talking to Regina and hearing that Emma, Killian and Robin had all been involved in a horrible car accident on Monday. She went on to say that Robin was in New York having to learn how to walk again.

"Oh, that poor boy," Blue exclaimed. "I'll have to contact his father. Did Regina know anything about Emma or Killian?"

When Elsa started speaking again, her voice softened, and Henry thought she might be crying, but since he didn't want to risk being seen, he stayed hidden.  "I saw Killian, Blue.  He looks awful, not only physically, but his eyes are haunted. He looked like he was barely able to hold himself together.  

"And our girl, Elsa.  What of Emma?"

This time, Elsa was crying so hard, Henry had trouble understanding her, but when she said, "Killian refused to talk to me but he did say one thing." She sniffed and blew her nose before continuing, "He said, 'Emma is gone.' How can that be, Blue?"

The minute Henry heard those words, he didn't wait around to hear anything else.  He needed to get to Killian and find out what was going on.  Grabbing his jacket and one of the extra Charlie Cards for the T, he took off running before anyone could stop him.  He needed to find Killian and he needed to find him now.

CS~CS~CS

The knock on the door roused Killian from where he had slouched against the side of the bed, trying to escape from his grief.  But it didn't seem to matter where he was or what he was doing, the grief continued to bombard him, sometimes just a little and other times it overwhelmed him, coming in waves. Not interested in hearing any platitudes he ignored the knocking until it came again. This time louder, more forcefully.  

As he made his way to the door, he wiped his face and prepared to face questions that he wasn't ready to think about or even talk about, but when he opened the door, instead of questions, he was met by the rush of a small, but sturdy body.  Henry wrapped his arms around Killian's legs and turned up his tear-stained face. "Is it true?  Is it true, Killian?  Is Emma gone?"

Killian looked down into the freckled face of the little boy who had come to mean so much to him and Emma, and wished he didn't have to break the child's heart. "Aye, lad.  It's true." He whispered brokenly.

"But it can't be true, Killian.  It can't be.  We need her," cried Henry.  "We were going to be a family."  Henry's little body was shaking so hard that, in his weakened state, Killian was afraid they were both going to fall.

Sliding toward the sofa, he sat down, pulling Henry onto his lap. As Henry relaxed against him, Killian leaned his cheek on the top of his head. "Is that what you want, Henry? To be a family?"

Henry nodded his head, snuggling even closer against Killian's chest.  "Then we shall.  And I know just the person to help make it happen."

~fin

And now we are at the bottom and there’s no where to go ut up...  However you will have to hold out till Jan 3 for Chapter 20, which shows a time jump until end of July/August.  In the meantime I’m working on a bit of Christmas fluff that takes place during Emma and Killian’s first Christmas together - which takes place during Chapter 8.  

[midnightmarinara]

XoRax (Spoiler-Free)

This pasta was posted on /x/ on Jan 29th, 2012. It is quite interesting and worth the lengthy read.

My parents were the first to fall violently ill from the sickness we now know as XoRax. I can vividly recall my father lying on his bed while his muscles spasmed and he choked on his own vomit. I stood as his side, frozen in place and refusing to leave as I held back sobs, his pupils dilating until his entire eye was like an inky blackness. He tried to speak, turning his head toward me, but opening his mouth only brought forth another torrent of vomit. I remember saying something, but that detail is lost on me now. I remember staring into his glazed eyes as his shuddering became less pronounced and he was suddenly very still. I let out a wail and ran into my room, unprepared and unwilling to face the truth. My mother was the first to pass, then my older brother who had just turned 17, and finally my father. I had not considered that I could have caught the disease myself - if it were in fact contagious - I just thought myself lucky, though tragically lucky at that.

I fell asleep in the corner, huddled in the blanket that previously kept my mother warm, her perfume made the putrid aroma somewhat tolerable, perhaps just enough so that I could drift off. I remember a persistent banging next, a series of muffled inquiries from the opposite side of my locked door. They were shouting for survivors, looking fervently for anyone who was still alive, despite the breakout. I rushed to the door and unlocked it to face what I would come to identify as the Day-Crew. Their faces were obscured by large gas masks fitted with some sort of capsule on either side of their cheeks, their breathing was slow and monitored, their voices were nearly impossible to hear over their mechanical wheezing. They were covered from head to toe in black regulation hazmat material with orange text reading DAY-CREW on their backs.

They ordered me out into the main hall where I managed to catch sight of fourteen other children around my age being told directions and filed into a line-up. Once the entire group had been examined, we began our trek out into the streets, which was a vision of chaos and destruction. We had heard the noises of looting and desperation from our homes, but we hadn't ventured off into the outside world for weeks for fear of catching the sickness ourselves.

There were even more Day-Crew that were burning the bodies that had fallen to the streets , trying to purge the earth as they kept their distance from the resulting fumes. We were silently ushered into the back of a large truck that took us to the south, away from the cities and suburbs and into the dense growth of the forest.

When the van came to a screeching halt, the doors swung open to reveal more Day-Crew, who ushered us out into a forest clearing. We were interrogated about our exposure to anyone with XoRax, and if we felt any symptoms like nausea or vertigo; though we had all witnessed our family members falling ill, and had tried in vain to treat them, we were all perfectly fine in any physical sense.

The Day-Crew initially told us that they were perplexed about our immunity to the sickness, as anyone who came in contact with it was sure to fall ill just hours later, so it was a shock to see that some of us had been living this nightmare for weeks on end. As they administered more tests and asked more questions however, we were told that the immunity was tied with a hormone cell that the disease was using to compromise the immune system, and since we were all too young to have properly developed it, the disease was unable to make us fall ill.

We were told that the Day-Crew wanted to study us, that we would live under the cover of the forest in quarantine. They would hope to extract a cure from our group that could be used to heal the world and rid it of XoRax Disease.

They tried their best to sound positive in light of the situation, but it was obvious that even they were doubtful of their efforts, and that there was no guarantee for any of their tests to follow through.

Still, they kept the mood optimistic and promised us that we would save countless lives with our efforts. They built a secluded village in the woods, providing us each with a make-shift house carved into the tree trunks around the area, I was led to a simple tree house that had a single bed on the far end and a table in the middle. We were told that first thing the next morning we were going to have our blood taken, so we weren't allowed to eat anything until then. I was fine with that, I hadn't been hungry for days, the image of my mother, father and brother crowded my thoughts instead. I didn't get much sleep, the forest was chirping with crickets, and the muffled bickering of the Night-Crew kept me up into the early hours.

We were woken the next day and filed into a single line up to have blood drawn. While the needles were prepared for us, we were told that we would have to receive a vaccination that would prevent us from going through puberty to preserve the hormone that might lead to a cure. It was never elaborated on at the time that we would never be able to grow up, or have children, but it was unlikely to live beyond the first few hours of infection, never mind the next few years, so our adulthood was seen as necessary sacrifice.

This continued for a few weeks, we would continue to receive vaccinations and assured that a cure would soon arise, but times were getting desperate. I took to listening in on the muffled conversations of the Night-Crew during the night, it became easier to make out what they were saying over time as they sat beneath my bedroom window next to a crackling fire.

I discovered that our encampment was only one of many in the surrounding area, and that they deduced that XoRax originally came from the sea to the West. They passed around horror stories of the people that lived by the shore that were hit the worst, that they had gone completely pale and that they began to sprout growths off of their elbows, hips and their toes. They had to be kept constantly hydrated or else their skin would begin to flake and peel. Their pupils had dilated and their entire eye was colored black, at this bit I thought back to my father, sitting on the couch and writhing in pain.

There was food in the mountains, one assured another, they were gathering it in droves, perhaps to keep it from spoiling. Another spoke up, revealing that they had managed to find expecting women who weren't exposed to XoRaX, and that they were being kept in the mountains to birth their young away from the sickness. The topic came back to their present situation and they began to discuss our encampment, that our results - while promising - weren't being worked on fast enough. There were accusations claimed, and fingers pointed, but at last they settled on keeping their mood positive, that something would come along eventually, that we just needed some more time.

Discussion drifted back to the horror stories of the West coast, which clearly sparked sick interest in the group as they talked of the corpses that had been found along the waters and drifted ashore, each with deep black eyes.

I rolled over in my bed, unable to listen to any more of the stories without images of my own family. Staring up towards the ceiling, praying that we would manage to find a cure soon, and that I wouldn't have to hear about the people of the West any more.

It had been nearly a month of testing when something went wrong - a few short hours after our latest vaccination several kids began complaining of distorted vision. They could see trailing lights in the air, making their way across the plains. While their faces were covered with their masks, I could sense the worry that played out across their faces.

We were told that they were just visual hallucinations, and that they would subside in a few hours. When I awoke the next day and glimpsed outside I too could see the trailing lights drifting through the air, they forbid anyone to discuss the lights any further, though it was clear that everyone could see them.

As we lined up to have blood drawn, one of the Day-Crew became terribly ill, and began to vomit through his gas mask. In a frenzied panic we were ordered back into our homes as they led the sick member away into the woods. We were told to come out and organize ourselves into a line for decontamination. After covering everyone with a chalk-like substance, they began to scrub away at it with some foul smelling liquid until they were assured that we were safe to deal with once more. This excessive procedure became a part of our daily regimen, and it's how we started calling them "The Scrubs" rather than their official titles. We were disillusioned, and it was obvious that they were as well.

The visual hallucinations began to worsen, even though we had stopped taking vaccinations long ago. Some kids began to befriend imaginary creatures in the air, speaking to the trails of light. I was horrified that I might start losing my sanity as well.

I didn't want to eavesdrop to the discussion over the fire that night, which had gradually worsened which each passing week. With a trailing desperation in their voice, the Night-Crew began to exchange information about the other areas.

The food in the mountain had been contaminated, and rumors began to surface that all of the births had resulted in defects, with each child being well-over a healthy birth weight with their eyes far apart. They would likely succumb to the disease and perish as well, it was decided. The cure that had been tested on the XoRax-ridden patients hadn't shown any signs of preventing the sickness, but rather had simply slowed the progress of the sickness so that it claimed lives in days rather than hours.

While this was a bit of good news, they focused on how little was accomplished over such a large span of time, and how anyone with the sickness shouldn't be kept stringing along, but rather, destroyed so that they couldn't contaminate anyone else. There was a coldness in their voice.

I rolled over in my bed to watch the lights play across my vision, dancing across my eyes until I fell asleep.

The Scrubs were gone the next day, leaving us behind as their failed experiment. The other children seemed unaware of this and decided to continue befriending imaginary creatures. In a depression I sulked off to bed, only to suffer a violent burst of spasms and shivering in the process. I drifted in and out of sleep that night, having one recurring nightmare after another. When I awoke, I heard something pass through my doorway, something that couldn't possibly be there. Rolling over I reluctantly looked up into the air to watch a trailing ball of light float around my house before descending toward my bed.

"Hello, Link. Wake up. The Great Deku Tree has summoned you!"

[munchkinxcop-blog]

Erin

For the last fourteen months, Erin had spent much of every day wrapped up in the arms of the man she was now engaged to marry.  Her life had changed drastically since the night she finally took him up on his offer to go out, only after a difficult day at work, leading into a night that would be the turning point she never saw coming.  Something shifted between them and all along, he seemed to know, yet it all came as a surprise to her.  Every step of the way, things were drawing them closer and closer.  Every step in their relationship had been due to something heavily driven by some other force up until the night he proposed to her, which was all him.  It did not come because of any outside influence, just simply his desire to spend his life with her, which to this day she still wasn’t sure how she got so lucky that it would be her.

Friday night, October 23, Erin ran to the store to grab some coffee for the morning.  At least that was the story she would pitch.  In truth, she was late.  She knew she needed to face the facts and find out for sure.  The purchase was made and she returned home.  The coffee placed in the cupboard, the pregnancy test beneath the bathroom sink.  As C.J. came downstairs from putting the boys to bed, she was coming out of the bathroom, changed into her pajamas.  Slipping into bed, she pulled the blanket over herself, meeting his eyes as he came into the room, pulling the blanket back for him to join her.  She did her best to keep her demeanor even, though she was worried for what the morning would bring.

The next morning, she woke up early having barely slept at all.  Instead of waking him up like she normally would have should she awaken first, she went to the bathroom instead, shutting and locking the door.  Pulling the pregnancy test from the box, she read over the instructions once more, finally committing to doing it.  After taking the test, she closed the lid on it, placing it to the edge of the bathroom counter as she stared at the screen, awaiting the results in what felt like the longest three minutes of her life.  Finally deciding to look away, hoping if she did the time would pass faster, she couldn’t help but wonder which way she even wanted it to be.  At one time, she would have prayed for the negative, but now?  She wasn’t so sure if she’d be upset with a positive either, not that they had been trying, but the idea of having children wasn’t quite so scary to her anymore after being part of the family unit with the two boys.  She’d found something more important than just her career.

After three minutes, she turned around, peering over at the screen with a held breath.  Placing the test back in the box it was originally packaged within, she placed it in the trash can, heading back to the bed in her place at C.J.’s side.  She drew the blanket back up over herself as she battled with how she felt for the result of the test, not sure if she should say anything, but as the man started to wake, her emotions were worn plainly against her features.  “Good morning,” she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.  Normally she would greet him with a ‘happy anniversary’, but this morning, she was far too distracted by other things to be able to say that which she had greeted him with for the previous fourteen months religiously.  “I’m late… so I took a pregnancy test…” she began, not exactly the smoothest way to wake the man, but surely effective.  “It was negative.”  She offered quickly, though it was clear that she had mixed feelings on the fact.  Though she knew they weren’t planning to extend their family yet, it was hard to not feel some disappointment by the test, though had it been positive, there would have been a sea of worry wrapped in such a small word.

Trying to convince herself that this was fine and she couldn’t necessarily go changing up the game plan on him, she forced a smile to come through, giving up words she thought perhaps he’d want to hear.  “So, happy anniversary.  You won’t have a fat fiancé that has crazy mood swings and cravings.”  She teased, though her mood was less than jovial.  She didn’t know what else to say, knowing well that what she had said had fallen rather flat, so instead, she opted for a silent pause to wait to see what his thoughts on that even were.  It wasn’t a topic they had discussed much, but this would prove to be the first time she actually showed interest in potentially extending their family together.

C.J. His eyes were not even open by the time the word 'pregnancy' penetrated his sleepy atmosphere. Taking a moment to remember what that word meant. He had definitely heard it before but it had been sometime. Her offering. Still needed to be translated through the fuzziness. Her teasing luring his hand to lift and rub over his face. Not able to open his eyes for another moment as he exhaled a low breath. "Aren't the rules that you gotta be woken up with a blowjob if you are going to mention pregnancy?" The man playfully yet dryly asked as he lifted his head. Luring it back go the headboard. Glancing down towards her as the words translated. The slight disappointment in her voice evident even as he was still trying to wake up. "Did you just take one test?"

Erin “’Fraid I don’t know the rules…” she whispered honestly.  Now that she did though, even if he was just teasing, she’d be sure the next time the word was spoken it was after he had been properly taken care of.  As he came to life there beside her, she instantly regretted waking him in this manner.  Attempting to mask any disappointment there in her tone, she slipped back from him, resting her head against her own pillow though it was barely ever used.  “Yeah… but it was negative.  Not sure why they put two in the box, really.  Isn’t one no enough for anyone?”  She asked, shrugging her shoulders as she let her eyes fall closed.  “I guess it’s just a work-stress late.”  She spoke honestly as that was all she could imagine would have affected her cycle, having seen it happen once or twice a few years back when the cases were especially heavy.  This only standing to be the first irregularity while with him, thankfully so as she wasn’t sure she could handle such monthly.  “You want to take the other?”  She teased, trying to find that comic relief he had gone for with his blowjob question moments before, searching for something a bit lighter.

C.J. He shook his head at the suggestion of two being enough though the option of it being stress related was always a valid one. God knows he never knew someone who took their job so seriously. Who lived and breathed it. "There can be false negatives..." he confessed as he gave up a loud yawn. A momentary pause in speech to allow it. "With Bash, she had to take 6-7 of those fuckers over a few week time period until she finally went to the doctors who confirmed it." He confessed, arm extending. Gesturing for her to find his side.

Erin The words ‘false negative’ had her opening her eyes once more, finding his arm outstretched for her to come within.  She was feeling closed off at the moment, not quite sure of how she felt about any of this, but as she saw him open up his span to her, she couldn’t not go into him.  Moving from her own pillow to rest her head against his chest, her body pressing to his side as she curled into him, finally allowing herself a bit more transparency in her feelings on the matter.  “We weren’t ready for that anyways,” she whispered, resolving herself to what she thought to be true, words she thought might ease them out of this topic and on to something real.  All the while facing a feeling of loss where there had been nothing to begin with.  “I don’t think we need that many tests.  Those things are supposed to be pretty accurate nowadays.  I just… I don’t know.  It wasn’t the worst idea ever, I guess.”  She added, recalling her nerves the night before when she laid down in bed, thinking it was a maybe.  “We haven’t even talked about it.”  She reminded him, tilting her head slightly upwards as she took in his facial profile.  “Are you… disappointed?”  She asked, realizing his tone seemed to indicate a possibility, as though he were looking for one.

C.J. Feeling her against his chest, his arm curled around her shoulders. Leaning his head against hers briefly before he turned his head once more. Kissing her temple. Reaching down for the blanket to pull it onto both of them. Hearing her suggest that they were not ready, the man didn't flinch. It wasn't meant to hurt him. Even if he was already a father twice over and had all the faith in the world in this relationship. Glancing down towards her upon her question. A shrug of his shoulders. "It depends. Would it have been happy news? Sure but...when it's ready to happen, it'll happen. Either way, we'd be fine." He stated as he pressed his forehead to hers. Having a hardtime keeping his eyes open. "We can talk about it though...anytime you want. No topic is off the table, sweetheart."

Erin As his arm wrapped around her, she felt that kiss to her temple, prompting a soft smile there on her face for a fleeting moment.  As he spoke, she was forced to face some of her feelings on the matter.  Though it hadn’t been something they were trying for by any means, when the thought passed her mind the day before that she was late and maybe they were, she had found a bit of excitement in that.  It was why she hadn’t bought anything for their anniversary or planned some elaborate show of affection for him.  She had thought maybe she’d be presenting him with something else.  Something money couldn’t buy.  Something more.  Though she knew if that test had been positive, it might’ve been a stress of its own, though laced in this concrete evidence of their love and relationship.  She’d already thought of how the boys might feel.  She’d worked through it silently in far more intricate manners than would be appropriate for just a what if.  “Is it wrong I kind of… hoped it would be?”  She asked, finally giving firm evidence to that which she had thought about.  A statement that would contradict everything she had said a moment before as she attempted to smooth it over with the both of them, making it as though they weren’t ready when the entire time it had been her fear of not being ready to put down the badge.  A lot had changed in her over the last few months.  She’d made leaps towards this family life and found herself quite fond of it in ways she’d not overly expected.  Now, it felt like a loss that the test had been negative, though she wasn’t entirely sure planning for an extension of the family was something they should be looking at yet.  A part of her wanted to.  “Do you… want more kids?”  She asked, her eyes lifting to find his, a topic that needed discussion, even if a few months before she might’ve freaked out over the mere mention.

C.J. “No, of course not.” he concluded upon her question of what was right and wrong here. A shake of his head. He knew what it was to be with someone facing potential pregnancy and not wanting it. It was a difficult feeling as a man. An odd sense of guilt accompanied it for being the one to cause it. Even if it did, indeed, take two to tango. He saw her working around those few emotions yet somehow seemed to understand what was going on in that head of hers. Her follow up statement had his eyes meeting hers. Pressing a kiss to her forehead before he spoke. “With you? Yes…with anyone else…no.” he confessed, having honestly thought about this. “Before I met you, wasn’t really something i thought about but with you…I’ve been thinking about dimpled babies for a long time.” he confessed with a smirk, flashing his own set of dimples. “Wouldn’t it be hilarious if one day, we did have a kid and it didn’t have dimples? I’d have to look at you a little funny for that one, hun.”

Erin Confirmation that he wanted children with her but no one other than her had her instantly presenting that trademark half-smile.  It might’ve been the most intimate sentiment for her to hear he had been contemplating those dimpled children for a while now.  She recalled him teasing before they were even a thought in her mind about the dimpled babies and how he had been battle tested as if it would be the sole reason she’d agree to go out with him, but now it didn’t seem quite so come-on’ish and far more endearing.  As that smirk presented his dimples on display, she already knew that whatever would follow was entertaining to him before it passed through his lips.  “Yeah, I don’t think that’s even a possibility… genetically speaking.”  She agreed, as the degree of his dimples was far more prominent than her own, but the child would have gotten them from both sides.  “Be testing every male I am in contact with, eh?”  She added, as though it would alter the paternity of the child.  The more playful demeanor finding them had her opening up a little more, her stance against him not nearly so closed off.  Molding closer to him as she propped her chin against his chest to be able to maintain sight with him, though at the moment her eyes were to those damned dimples.  “You know how much I love you?”  She asked, her hand finding the side of his face as she felt true appreciation for the man as he took a situation that had her feeling truly raw emotions within it and finding a way to make her smile even through what felt like a surprising sadness that had washed over her in light of the negative test.  “So much that having babies with you doesn’t scare the shit outta me.”  She confessed with a fuller smile, her own dimples showing themselves as her fingertip rounded his own.

C.J. “Yeah, I don’t think so either. You figure…the other two got ‘em and they only got half dimpled genes.” he reminded her, shaking his head at the concept of ‘testing.’ “If that’s what you want to call it…” he teased, giving up a soft laugh as it would be less of testing and more of killing but he’d roll with it, hearing her question as she found the side of his face. He nodded. “I know you do.” he confessed, the follow up question bringing a grateful smile. “and it shouldn’t. We’ll be alright. Whether that day or tomorrow or a few years in the future.” he assured her simply.

Erin “True,” she stated as the other kids had them with half the genes, thus proving just how strong C.J.’s genes were in that equation.  As he suggested it might not be testing, she let him have that one, knowing he’d have nothing to worry about.  If one thing was for sure, she wasn’t an easy one to get with, and C.J. could attest to that.  That smile there at his lips as he made promises of the future had her returning that full smile of her own.  Lifting upwards, her lips found his in a soft exchange there at his lips before she withdrew slowly, though not returning to his chest again yet.  “So what if it’s not a few years from now?”  She asked, giving a slight indication there that she might be contemplating something a little sooner.  Even if she kept dragging her feet on the wedding date, this would prove that she didn’t actually want that to be so far off either.

C.J. Hearing her question as she pressed her lips to his, meeting her eyes upon her question. Cocking a brow. Ironic considering. “Well, if it’s not tomorrow and you are not pregnant now then…” he paused, he was by no means a traditional man. It was no surprise that he did want to marry her before they went there yet it was so difficult for him to deny her of anything. “Not to be the killjoy but there are alot of things that would have to be worked out. I know you are in no big rush to take up desk duty…” he reminded her, flashing another quick smile to get him out of what he was going to say. “Not to mention I’d atleast like to have a ring on your finger by then.”

Erin “Yeah…” she offered, resolving herself to that which he said.  He was right.  It wasn’t anything either of them needed to fall into right now when they still had other things pressing and needing their attention.  That ring had been on her finger for a bit now with no date even being entertained.  She’d jokingly offer 2029, but they both knew that wasn’t realistic.  Everything within her mind was starting to feel a bit heavy as she found herself rushing full throttle into a life with the man, ignoring everything along the way.  Her commitment to this life with him taking over in multiple ways, engulfing her, pushing her to entertain thought processes she’d never been much into before.  Marriage.  Children.  Desk duty.  A life that she couldn’t even fully comprehend, probably better guided off into the future by the words of the man she laid against.  “You make me think of things I didn’t know I wanted,” she confessed, stealing his lips once more, attempting to silence not only her words, but her thoughts as well.

C.J. Hearing her statement, not quite sure that sounded like a good thing and he might have asked if she wasn’t pressing her lips to his. His intentions had never been to overwhelm her life and maybe he was asking too much. Pushing her too hard. Maybe he needed to take a step back and tell her what it was that she wanted. His hand slipped up, finding the side of her neck as he pressed his lips a bit harder back to her. Pulling back only when he needed to speak. “I love you so much, Erin. You have no idea.”

Erin The firmness in his kiss was almost enough to silence the conversation she was having within herself until his lips parted from her own.  Her eyes still closed in that second he spoke, only opening upon his final words.  A soft smile there at her lips as she nodded her head.  “I think I do, but if you’d like to remind me, I won’t be opposed,” she teased, nudging her nose to the side of his.  The ring on her finger spoke volumes to that which he was proclaiming now.  The fact that she was entertaining any of the ideas in her head, actually being slightly disappointed about a negative pregnancy test, all attributing to proof of that which she felt for him.  The life she never knew she wanted all unfolding before her, none of which was causing her to run in the opposite direction.  Quite the contrary was true.  She wanted this life with him a little more every day, investing herself so deeply that a loss would be life shattering.  Making herself vulnerable to him, to the relationship, showed the utmost trust she had in who they were and where they were in their lives together.  The girl who once claimed she was okay on her own, reminding him constantly of her independence, now felt no need for the concept at all.  Clinging to the life here with him and the boys, even beyond those already within the walls of the home.  It was a lot, but for the first time, the weight didn’t have her running for the door.  Instead, she was clinging tightly to the man, allowing herself to experience those emotions and feelings right along with him.

C.J. “If only there was a way to explain it to you…” he sighed honestly, knowing where words failed him, music did not. Yet, even with that, he had difficulty expressing it. It was an overpowering, awe-inspiring love. Terrifying yet brilliant all at once. “You think you know but you don’t know…” he teased. “I just know how much you’ve sacrificed to get here and how much faith you have in me and that makes me love you harder because you should have that faith. Because there is nothing that could come infront of us that we couldn’t handle…” he confessed as he met her eyes. “Unless you cheat on me of course, then we’d have some issues but anything other than that…” he stated with a wink, knowing that was not likely.

Erin “C.J…” she whispered, her heart instantly filled with his words.  “I haven’t sacrificed anything.  I’ve gained the world.”  Her words were completely honest to her as she felt them to her core.  Her faith was there and inspired by this man and his faithfulness to her in every way.  Both professionally and personally, he had gained her trust completely, showing her every step of the way that he would be there for her without failure even once.  He had been constant with her in ways she couldn’t have ever anticipated someone offering her.  She had once seen herself as so damaged, yet he was able to see past all of it, find the good, all while reassuring her that she was worth it all.  There were simply no words to fully thank the man for seeing something in herself that she never could see.  “I believe in us.”  She whispered, as it was the root of it all.  Stealing his lips once more, yet briefly before she’d offer him that smile again.  “Nah, don’t think you’ll ever be facing that one.  I’m a lifer,” her words paired with a nod of her head as she brought herself flush against him, easing over the man, both hands taking to either side of his face.  “Who would’ve thought it?”  She asked, suddenly making a dramatic gasp there at her lips as she brought her fingertip to the tip of his nose.  “Mmm, I think you did.”  She reminded him, as he seemed to have it all figured out long before she had.  “You’re my everything,” she confessed, lips passing his once more.  “And I will spend the rest of my life loving you and only you.  I’m yours.”

C.J. “Glad to hear it.” he commented as she mentioned being a ‘lifer.’ Feeling her at the sides of his face, her question luring a telling smile out of him even before she hit her punchline. A nod of his head. “Damn straight I did.” he commented, rather proud of himself for that fact. Not for knowing it but convincing her to take the shot. Tasting her words as her lips passed his and gave up that memorable ‘I’m yours’ phrase.  “Mmm…you are…” he commented honestly, pressing his lips back to hers for another series of slow and lingering kisses.

Erin There was no way she’d interrupt those kisses he was offering her.  Her hands relinquishing their hold on his face, her forearms finding the pillow on either side of his head, her lips there at his own.  A slowly building intensity between each kiss, not quite sure how she went from bordering depression over the negative test to this, but the woman wasn’t complaining in the slightest.  The night before, she’d been off.  Claiming fatigue, though her mind was in overdrive.  The case load as of late having taken a toll on the both of them, to which there had been many nights of falling into bed exhausted.  In this moment though, there was a feeling of complete relaxation as the two spent their waking moments facing facts and transitioning into one of the best anniversary revelations to date, truly expressing themselves freely as they marked a day that a hypothetical would change the landscape of their lives from that point forward.  Slowly retreating from his lips, sealing that kiss with one last one, a whisper there at her lips.  “No more 2029 talk… How’s your 2016 looking?”

C.J. Savoring each kiss before he felt her backing from them. Not quite yet opening his eyes to meet hers as he felt her lingering there. Debating on whether to pull back or not. Smirking softly at her statement. Still quite amazed he had gotten her to give there. He nodded slowly. “All yours, Munchkin.” he added honestly, no bookings to date unless it would be one very specific day he got to share with this woman. Everything else in the world could wait.

Erin A hum met her lips as he agreed to the year being open to them, along with a little pet name it had been a while since she had heard.  Drawing back from his lips entirely, sitting upright over top of him, her eyes set to his as she ventured into territory she’d fought tooth and nail.  “Alright… so… sooner or later?”  She asked, her hands finding his, linking her fingers through his own.  A conversation she’d pushed off yet now she was willingly entering into, surprising herself slightly, but going with it.

C.J. Feeling her hand find his, he tugged the one over to guide her overtop of him. Hearing her question, weighing his options before a shrug seemed the best choice. “I don’t know, that’s what we have to discuss. Working out what time we want to do it, how we want to do it. All that fun stuff…then after that, I say we just screw the middle shit and hire a wedding planner because if you do want to go that route…I’m not going to be alot of help to you with picking out napkin color.” he added honestly, figuring it was better said sooner than later.

Erin Coming over him, her lips drawn in to his neck. Taking advantage of this access as it seemed far better to speak of such things while well distracted, thus keeping the importance and weight of it to a minimum, allowing them to just enjoy the more playful side of things.  “Hmm…” she managed there at his neck as she put her focus to his flesh for a short moment.  “You think I give a shit what color the napkins are?”  A teasing question there as she was not that much of a perfectionist.  The little things didn’t matter to her at all, nor would they.  All that would matter was the four of them becoming a family.  “The only thing I want is my three guys.  And my new hyphenated last name…”

C.J. “I sure hope not…” he returned at the napkin color debate and how it continued onto her follow up. Smirking softly as he nodded. Already having mentioned that he would not mind if she didn’t take up some part of his last name. Yet, it would be an honor should she choose it but necessarily a necessity. “I think we can manage that.” he offered up honestly as his hands settled to her sides.

Erin “Or…” she paused there after that word, her teeth lightly teasing against the curve of his neck, leaving the man to wonder just what might come beyond that word as she shifted her hips lower on him, her path taking a turn for his chest.  “Maybe…” she continued, now on a mission to keep him guessing as her lips took liberties against his flesh.  “I don’t know…”  The blanket slipping down her back as she continued that lower venture, her hand tightening in his as she paused mid-chest, her eyes darting up to his.  “Erin Lindsay-Luciano… a little lengthy, don’t ya think?”  She offered, a knowing smile there on her lips as she suggested something she’d stood against from the get go.  A carefree shrug of her shoulders as if it was no big deal what she was suggesting.  

C.J. Feeling her slipping down his chest, eyeing her as she offered up a smile following her statement. "Maybe but...if anyone could pull it off, it would be you..." he reminded her, not quite putting together the offer as he had never thought  she'd suggest it. Watching her shrug her shoulders as his hand passed down the back of her neck. "Alot of L's though..." he hummed in thought.

Erin “Mmm, maybe…” she reasoned to his mention that she could pull it off, realizing either he missed the offer or wasn’t interested in it.  Either way, she’d leave that one be for the moment as she pressed another kiss to his chest before laying down against him, stopping mid-pursuit.  “Then we could name our kid some L name.  Leslie or Luca or something.  Luca Lindsay-Luciano.”  She teased as she felt his hand to the back of her neck.  

C.J. Hearing her suggestion, he has to laugh with a shake of his head. "I think you'd like your kid a little more than that." He confessed as his fingers drifted down the backs of her shoulders. Keeping his eyes on her as she took her rest. A moment of silence before something began to catch up with him. "Wait...are you suggesting you'd..."

Erin “Suggesting I’d like to lay here on top of you for the rest of the day?  Why yes, yes I am.”  She teased, lifting her eyes to his, a smile radiating through her hues to prove she was teasing him and clearly onto his line of thinking on this one.  Dragging her lower lip through her teeth, she offered a bit of a shrug there at her shoulder beneath his fingertips.  “I don’t know… am I?”  She asked, far more serious as that bite to her lower lip told stories she’d not tell yet with her mouth.

C.J. Not quite laughing at her suggestion as his thought process was somewhere else entirely. Meeting her eyes, despite her smile, not going to be able to give one of his own. Her question causing a shrug of his shoulders. "I don't know, hun. You tell me..." he stated, as he couldn't make that decision for her but was curious to her thoughts on it.

Erin Bringing one hand to his chest there beside her face, shapes drawn at her fingertip as she eyed him, finding him irresistible in his present state.  “Tell you that maybe I think it might be something else if I were to perhaps not continue to carry my prior name and maybe just go by yours, when that day comes, somewhere in the next… year or so… and not have so many L’s going?”  She asked, her words circling that which she was saying when it could have come out far more simple than that.  “Maybe the idea of Erin Luciano…” she added, pausing there after it to allow that smile to seep through once more.  “If you’d give it to me, that is.”

C.J. "Yeah?" He asked at the suggestion of limiting the L's. The sound of his voice showing the tone of surprise that was evident in him. The sound of Erin Luciano dragged a smirk from him. "It's yours for the taking." He reminded her, having offered it the moment she got his ring. "I just never wanted you to feel like you have to because you don't but...if you wanted to..." he paused, teeth finding his bottom lip. "I would like that..."

Erin Watching him navigate through that one, her smile was never ceasing as she found the man completely adorable as he offered up that he would like it, but always with the respect for her own decision on the matter just as it was in most everything along the way.  It always seemed to take her a little longer to get there, but without fail, she almost always warmed up to something over time.  Her own teeth taking to her lower lip as she lifted upwards, her hand taking the side of his neck as she pulled herself up to him, stealing his lips with her own for a long moment before breaking that kiss, though not fully pulling back.  “I do want to,” she confirmed before her lips were right back to his again.

C.J. Pressing his lips back go hers as she slipped back up him, hand at the side of his neck as his thumb passed her jawline. Meeting her eyes briefly at her confession before allowing his lips back to here. Arm slipping around her waist as his other hand remained to the side of her neck. Pulling her into him even closer than she already was if at all possible.

Erin The depth of that kiss spoke volumes to that which was felt between them in the reveal of the formerly sensitive subject.  Her own emotions running up and down thus far that morning between talks of wedding dates, last name changes, and negative pregnancy tests.  The girl was changing right before his very own eyes, only leaving her to hope she wasn’t changing too much too fast.  Simply unable to think or act like the girl she once was as the cracks were filled in and she was made whole by the man there at her lips.  Drawing in as close as he would prompt her, the pull of his arm around her waist and there at her neck, her own hand to the side of his neck as her free hand gripped his upper arm, encouraging that hold he had on her at that point.  Her lips softly to his, matching the touch of her hand.  

C.J. Humming to her lips, quite content with the embrace and all the things they had laid out there. Calmly. With ease. No tension. Something that, without a doubt, made them work in all the right ways through out the occasional hitches. His lips drawing through the warmth of her kiss as his tongue parted his lips. Drifting across the part of her own for that non-verbal permission.

Erin Allowing that brush of his tongue to the part of her lips for a moment as she offered a soft hum as though she might need to think that one over.  A small smile forming there at the corners of her mouth as she parted her lips to his, permitting that access as he would already know she would, only making him wait but a moment.  Her own tongue breeching the part of her own lips to meet his as she tilted her head to the side, allowing for fuller access.  Her lips pressed firmly to his own as her tongue smoothed over his, a union that would send chills down her spine upon the stimulation of his taste flooding her senses.

C.J. Feeling her lips part for him. Something that would have blatantly shocked him if it didn't happen, he felt the motion of her tongue over him as he leaned further into her kiss. Fingertips revisiting the back of her neck where he had previously been. Kneading gently into any source of tension he found there. His head tilt mirroring hers in the opposite direction.

Erin The absence the night before out of her own nervousness masked as exhaustion had her slightly more eager than was typical for the woman.  Feeling him deepen that kiss in the movement of his fingers and the tilt of his head.  Her hand vacating his upper arm to slip beneath his neck, supporting him there as she withdrew her tongue, luring him within the confines of her own mouth should he choose to take it.  Her hand slipping from the side of his neck to his chest, down his side as she shifted her hips against him.  The strap of the silken camisole slipping from her shoulder as she leaned further to one side, attempting to draw him overtop of her.

C.J. Feeling her natural lean, he recognized it. Easily using it to slip them over with ease, getting her onto her back as he slipped overtop of her. Feeling her at the back of his neck as his own hand found the side of her neck. Drifting down her shoulder. He had notched up a bit of distance the night before to her just being tired yet was now beginning to conclude it might have been something a bit deeper. Making him glad he had allowed her her space as his tongue drew into her mouth. Giving chase as she so desired.

Erin Maintaining that kiss as they shifted position naturally, the new position affording her to slip her hand from the back of his neck into the short locks at the back of his head, drawing deeper into that kiss as his tongue joined her own within the confines of her own mouth.  Her knees bent to either side of him as the blanket became tangled in the shift.  Her free hand slipping down his side to grip at his lower back as she held to the man’s frame.  Though the weight of that test hadn’t come out quite like she had worked herself up to, leaps and bounds were made that morning in their engagement, appropriately so on the morning of their anniversary.  Just as she was losing herself in that kiss, the knock at the locked door would interrupt all forward progress from a little hand.  Drawing back from the kiss, her forehead met his shoulder as she took in a deep breath there for a moment, a screeching halt with a sigh at her lips as she attempted to come down from the height of that kiss.

C.J. Feeling her pull back from the kiss as the knock came, he couldn't help but laugh at her reaction. Pressing his lips to her temple. "Just remember these moments when you want a positive pregnancy test." He teased as he pressed another lingering kiss to her temple as he leaned up from her and the bed. Winking playfully as he got up. Giving her a moment to cover up whatever she felt necessary as he cracked open the door just enough to answer it.

Erin A grumble was there at her lips to his reminder as he pressed a kiss to her temple.  As he slipped from the bed, she caught that wink of his eye, having to shake her head to it.  “I hear you,” she managed as she lifted the strap of her camisole back to her shoulder, sitting up in the bed as she drew the blanket over herself, though clothed in the tank and shorts, still doing so out of sheer habit at this point.  As he cracked the door, she couldn’t help but snicker at the thought within her mind, that the little knock had not been from the coffee delivery service.  

C.J. The exchange was brief, a nod. A few words as he spoke to his youngest who informed him that he had been sent down by their grandmother to inform him that they'd be spending sometime out. Errands with their grandmother with the promise of a park trip. Giving his understanding. He watched him running off to the other room to collect the flavor of the week toy to be brought with. Smirking to himself, he closed the door. "You got lucky on that one."

Erin Hearing the excitement from the little one there at the door, Erin couldn’t even be mad they were interrupted.  There was something about seeing those boys happy that had grown on her in ways she couldn’t begin to explain.  As he closed the door, it was written all over her face that her moment of disappointment for the interruption was long gone.  “Oh?  Did I?”  She asked playfully as she lifted a finger to motion for him to return to her.  “Let’s find out just how lucky, huh?”  A slight bite there to her lower lip as her finger gestured for him, quite pleased to find out they would have a few hours of the house just to themselves, something of a miracle in its own right.

C.J. "You did." He confirmed, turning the lock on the door just in time to see that motion of her finger. Luring an audible groan out of him as he just about jumped back into bed with an all too familiar enthusiasm. Flashing her a quick smirk before his lips took to the side of her neck. "Mmm...not fair when you do that." He uttered between kisses to her skin.

Erin That groan had her smile breaking free that bite to her lower lip.  As he nearly jumped back into the bed, she gave up an instant laugh, having no idea just why this man was still just as into her as he had been their first night together, but knowing she was the luckiest girl in the world for it.  A hum taking her lips as the laughter faded to the feeling of his lips to the side of her neck, leaning her head to the side to grant him this access.  “When I do what?”  She asked innocently, though partially truly not knowing what it was she had done.  “Whatever it is, I need to know… so I can do it more often.”  Teasing him as her hand found the back of his neck, her eyes falling closed as she simply enjoyed the pass of his lips to her flesh.

C.J. If at all possible, he only seemed to become more and more attracted to her each passing day. What had once been a sheerly physical lust had evolved as he maintained that infatuation with her physically building the foundation for what he adored about her everywhere else. Hearing her question, he hummed to her skin. Teeth grazing where her neck and ear met. "You know what." He reminded her, pressing another firm kiss to that same spot. "Everything you do, somehow...it's not even fair."

Erin “I didn’t…” she managed as she felt his teeth exchanged for his lips once more, causing her to draw in a breath through parted lips.  “I didn’t do anything…” she argued, drawing her lower tier between her teeth.  Melting into those kisses at her neck, her lower body shifting in response.  She’d not ever understand certain things about this man, but they all seemed to work in their joint favor regardless.  She could only imagine that which she felt for him was something like what he felt for her, though she’d always be slightly envious of how freely he seemed to portray it whereas she struggled with the conversion of thoughts to words and actions.  “I think I could literally lay here all day, just let you do that, and be the happiest woman in the world,” she confessed as that touch was perhaps beyond any other to her.

C.J. "You're always doing something." He playfully reminded her as the woman was never innocent for too long, his hand slipping down to press up the side of her thigh. Hearing her confession which made him smirk as his lips found her ear. A kiss to the shell before he was speaking. "Well, I don't know about all day but I got a few hours of you'd like me to kiss your neck the entire time..." he teasingly added right beside her ear.

Erin She might have been satisfied for just that if it weren’t for that wandering hand venturing up her thigh towards that silken fabric of her shorts.  The addition of this touch had her drawing her knee upwards, a hum there at her lips at his suggestion of meeting that which she had requested.  “Mmm, I don’t know about that now…” she confessed, her hand finding the curve of his shoulder.  “Although, it is cold as hell outside,” she reminded him, which meant marks would not be as clearly on display outside of that room of theirs.  A swift turn of her head would have her lips stealing his with a firm kiss as her fingertips gripped to that curve of his shoulder before promptly breaking off the kiss almost as soon as it started.  “How’d I get so lucky?”  

C.J. Feeling her knee draw as his fingers chased under her shorts, he heard her statement about it being cold bringing him to smirk softly as it was. Everyone was binded to the chin and it was as good a time as any as he felt her lips seek out his. Pressing his own back to hers before hearing her question. Smirking softly to her lips. "I don't know how lucky you are..." he confessed as his lips slipped down to her chest. Finding the bit of her cleavage above her shirt.

Erin His wandering hand and wandering lips had her hazing over as she so often did when the two actually found the time to take their time with one another.  “Oh, I’m very, very lucky actually,” she managed, attempting to keep up this line of communication for as long as she possibly could.  Her hands slipping from him as he was granted uncontrolled reign over her, at least for the time being.  “I get to love the most amazing man in the world, and he loves me back.”  A smile crossed her lips as she spoke her honest take on their relationship at its very core.  “He’s even going to let me have his name.”

C.J. "Loves you very much." He reminded her as to put it so simply seemed like a miscarriage of his true feelings. He more than loved this woman. He worshipped the air she breathed as his lips were momentarily distracted from her chest before returning. Smirking at the mention of his name. "I'm the lucky one for that." He reminded her, teeth tugging playfully at the top of the linen keeping him from accessing her fully.

Erin Her eyes drifting down towards him as his teeth took the fabric of her top, finding him absolutely irresistible in that moment.  Slowly bringing her hands to either side of her, pushing against the bed to lift up there.  Her hands moving to take the bottom hem of her top, slipping it up and over her head for him, revealing her flesh fully to him in that moment as she tossed the top off to the side.  “Can we agree that we’re both equally lucky?”  She reasoned, both hands taking the sides of his face as though to stop him from taking to her flesh until they met some form of agreement on the matter.

C.J. Feeling her at the sides of his face as if she'd keep him there on her terms. He flashed her a telling, mischievous smirk. His hands slipping up for the band of her shorts as he disobediently dipped his head forward. Daring her to tell him no as he took advantage of her chest. Lips pressing to her bare skin now as he assured not an inch of her went without the touch of his lips. Not quite willing to agree. Atleast not yet.

Erin “C.J….” she warned as she felt the full trouble behind that smirk before it even fully set on.  As he slipped through her hands, taking to her chest, she could only give in to that touch as his hands made that move for the removal of her shorts as well.  She’d make him figure that one out as there was now no way she’d be standing up to do it herself.  Sitting upright before him, her hands finding the bed behind her, slightly leaning back, though not allowing her back to touch the bed just yet.  Her eyes falling closed as she realized she was losing this battle for a truce on the topic of them both being lucky, though just his touch in that moment proved she was the lucky one as far as she was concerned.

C.J. Her warning brought a slow laugh to him as he blatantly disregarded it. Never claiming to be good at direction as his mouth surrounded one of her nipples. Feeling her lean back as his tongue swept her. Mouth gently suckling against her hardening peak under constant supervision of his tongue as it smoothed over her. Fingers still at her bottoms seeing he'd get no help there.

Erin The laugh was damn near sinister as it filtered through her own ears, already knowing he would not heed her warning before it had ever left her lips.  The way his mouth worked there at her nipple had her back arching, her head tilting further back as she leaned into that touch, surrendering to it for a moment.  A hard bite there at her lower lip as she brought one hand to the back of his neck, fingertips pressing firmly into his flesh before rapidly sitting upright again, her hand flattening against the back of his neck, drawing him in tighter there to her breast directly contradicting her warning moments before as he fully won her over.  

C.J. Feeling her lean up, his eyes smoothed up. Finding hers as she encouraged him this time around. Not sure what was more satisfying. Not listening to her or listening to her. Regardless, he allowed it as it worked to his advantage. A vacuum created with his lips before the thick of his tongue was back to circling her. His hands smoothing up her sides. Determined to get those shorts off eventually.

Erin An intensity there at her hold, driven by his own actions, luring her from a place of contentment to one filled with an engaging desire for the man.  Her hands taking to either side of his face again, this time forcing his lips back from her, that suction he had formed causing a draw as she pulled him away as a whine fell against her lips.  A power drawn up in her as she brought her hands to his chest, pushing against him as she finagled her way out from under him, backing against the headboard, drawing in deep breaths as she met his eyes.  Rising to her knees, her fingertips taking to the sides of those shorts he wanted gone so badly, slowing down the moment as she allowed him to simply look over her as she inched those shorts down, deciding to torment him with the slower speed there, all the while torturing herself a bit in the absence of his lips.

C.J. Feeling her both draw his head and push from him in about a moment flat, he had to smirk as he watched her hit the headboard. Rolling onto his side to watch her lure down her shorts as she slowed them down a bit. Hand slipping up the side of her thigh as a bit of encouragement as his fingers gently tugged at the fabric.

Erin Fingers hooking through the waist of the silken shorts, taking the small band of her panties along with them, she inched them down slowly as she felt his hand there at her thigh.  Her eyes set to his, she wouldn’t try to stop him as she lifted one knee and then the other, allowing the passage of both articles to vacate her flesh entirely.  Sitting back onto her calves on bent knee before him on the bed, a slow drag of her teeth against her lower lip as her half-smile took her features.  Her hand seeking his as she ever so patiently sat before him, making no attempt to bridge the gap between herself and where he laid against his side.  “Better now?”  She asked, referencing those shorts finally being gone as he wished.

C.J. Hearing her question, his eyes already drinking her in. He nodded as he leaned up on his forearm. The other hand still passing over the side of her leg as he smirked softly. "Absolutely...it could be better though..." he reminded her, a waggle of his brows as she was still too damn far away.

Erin “Oh could it?”  She returned playfully.  Feeling his hand there over the side of her leg, so tempted to cross that divide between them, yet seeing that look in his eyes was well worth holding out.  “What would make it better?”  A tilt of her head while that telling smile took her features.  Her hand finding his there at her leg, stealing it for herself as she limited his contact.  Stretching her fingers through his as she took full possession, at least for the moment.

C.J. "You...right here." He added, giving her hand a squeeze and a gentle tug. Free hand patting his stomach to illustrate where he wanted her in that moment. Meeting her eyes as he was a moment away from pouting at her but still taking the opposite approach. For now.

Erin Eyeing him there as he gestured to where he wanted her, taking that moment to resist if only to torture him further.  A mischievous grin there at her lips to suggest her playful demeanor.  “Are you thinking like… now?  Or in a few minutes?  Maybe later?”  She teased, that bite to her lower lip returning as she started to falter in her stance, unable to resist the man for too long, though still toying with him while she was losing her own inner battle on the matter.  That tug to her hand nearly doing the trick as she sat back on her feet, anchoring herself as best she could.  “You drive a hard bargain, Detective,” she teased.

C.J. "Drive a hard something else too." He remarked as she gave some, another tug of her hand as he laid onto his stomach. Exhaling a low breath as his teeth settled on his bottom lip. "You should be eager to figure out about that offer..."

Erin His mention of driving something else, she couldn't even hide that telling grin.  She should've seen that opening she had given him, yet missed it entirely until he drove right through that too. As he recommended she reconsider his offer, she eyed him closely. "I should, huh?  But you blocked it..." She reminded him as he took to his stomach. Finally giving in to the man, she released his hand entirely, both of her hands taking to his shoulders as she attempted to turn him over. "Change your mind on me?"

C.J. "Nope." He stated at her reminder, shaking his head as if it had never happened. Feeling her at his stomach as his hands found her hips as she took to his shoulders. Thumb rolling over her bone structure as he glanced up towards her. Feeling her attempt to tilt as he gave some at her willing. "I don't know what you are talking about..."

Erin “I’m talking about… you needing to get over on your back.”  She continued prodding there at his shoulders as he started to give a little.  Something that had never been introduced into the bedroom, though that small window gave her just enough.  A strong maneuver as she swiftly landed him on his back, straddling over him as she crossed his wrists as though they were awaiting cuffs.  Looking down at him with a sly grin as he had seen this maneuver of hers used on criminals, yet never had experienced it firsthand.  “So… better now?”  She asked, a smirk there to her lips as she looked down upon his face, her eyes set to his.

C.J. Always slightly amazed by her strength upon seeing it, now he was feeling it as he felt her against him and at his wrists. A slow smile crossing his lips as he shook his head at her. “Stronger than you look…” he remarked honestly, though the lift of his wrists suggesting he was resisting arrest. Hearing her question, his jaw tightened. “And if I say ‘no’ detective?”

Erin That slow smile at his lips noted the playfulness there between them, his words there furthering her actions in the persona of detective.  Another swift move of her hands against his wrists, pinning each to the bed to either side of his head further restraining him.  “Then I suppose you are forcing my hand here.”  She decided with a nod of her head as she leaned down, her lips quickly stealing his before robbing him of that contact almost as soon as it had begun.  “So how about you tell me just what it is that you want to happen here and I’ll see what I can do to potentially accommodate you?”  Her teeth stealing his lower lip as she tugged back against it slightly, her grip there at his wrists tightening.  “Could always find those cuffs from your birthday and do that to you again…” she reminded him as she eyed him suggestively.

C.J. Feeling her pinning his wrists, he could still resist her if he really felt inclined but he’d let her think she had some pull here from now. At mention of the cuffs, he had to smirk lightly. Not thinking she’d go that far here. Feeling her against his lower lip, his tongue sweeping over the area a moment later. “I want my fiance.” he reasoned in return, making sure to use as often as possible. “and I don’t think she’s got the nerve for that so she better quit with the idle threats…”

Erin Instantly releasing both of his hands in complete and utter shock that he thought she was offering idle threats.  “You want your fiancé but you don’t think she has it in her, but the same girl who is your fiancé that was once your girlfriend absolutely had it in her and if memory serves… handcuffed you to her bed and tortured you for hours on end?”  She reminded him, a certain look there in her eye as though she were being dared.  “Where are the cuffs?”  She asked point blank, showing she was making no idle threats and would not be backing down at any point in time from such a challenge, nor had she been speaking in idle threats of anything, willing to completely back up her own words.

C.J. Feeling her release his hands, he had to laugh at how seriously she was taking his playful response yet it had worked better than expected. Making her eyes, hearing her question. A shake of his head before he was gripping her sides and flipping them over. Having sufficiently distracted her as his lower body slipped between her legs. Hand finding the side of her neck as he leaned in. Firmly pressing his lips back to hers to get them back to where they had been without hesitation as it all had come along fairly well.

Erin A squeal there at her lips as he flipped them over, finding his place there overtop of her.  Feeling his lips take hers, there was no resisting or playing with this man any further as he had found and taken the upper hand there.  A delay in her reaction before she was pressing her lips into his.  The feel of his hand to the side of her neck prompting her own hand to take the opposing side of his.  A hum at her lips of congratulations at his ability to find her weakness and leave her unguarded to his own antics in that moment.  A momentary separation of her lips would allow her tongue to ease through the part to his own, only to retract a moment later as though it had never happened.

-October 24, 2015

[frownanddrown]

In Case You Ever Find This

I know you probably won’t, but just in case you do find this…This is what I need to say to you. You won’t let me say it to your face or even over text right now, and it needs to get out of my mind. So into the internet abyss it goes, at least for now.

June 16, 2017

So, I kind of called you out a couple days ago. I don’t regret it. Honestly, it made me feel better to finally say some of what I need to say to you. You have been incredibly selfish through a lot of the end of our relationship and now, regardless of whether that’s a symptom of whatever’s going on for you or not, and you have to understand that this isn’t just about you, and that’s exactly what I told you. Your depression and emotional and mood problems cause so much turmoil inside you, so much undeserved hatred and feelings of mediocrity. The fault lies in things that are beyond your control, but at some point, it’s also on you in a lot of ways. You’ve let yourself get comfortable set in these ways that keep you going through the same cycles. You’re tired of feeling bad, well, think about how I feel knowing I’m having to face this alone. Everything I have always most feared happening has happened in the last month, and the one person who could help me the quickest won’t even open my messages anymore. I only ever wanted to show you how much you mean to me. I need to talk to you about things to heal myself. You say we’ll talk later but the longer it goes unchecked, the longer it’s going to hurt me – and you. You have to understand that bottling everything up and holding it down until it “goes away” isn’t healthy. Sometimes wounds need to be opened so people can grow from them. You clean them out so they heal properly instead of just “passably.” That’s what I need. I need my wound irrigated, and so do you even if you don’t realize it. I need you to be able to do that for me, just this one thing. You couldn’t compromise for me on any issues we had as a couple, but I need you to let me speak to you about the things I need to say now. I’ve been incredibly accommodating to you for the entirety of our knowing each other – I came to you most of the time, I made sure you were as unfettered as possible, I gave up a lot of what I needed in order to give you room to maybe match me in your own time (but you didn’t), I check in on you even when I know I can’t expect that in return, and I gave you space to try and do things to make yourself happy even though it absolutely killed me to miss you so much and know you didn’t miss me a lot, or even at all – so the least you can do for me now that you’ve pushed me so far away is to listen to what I have to say. Sit down with me face to face and hear me out in order to help me. You are never going to not feel bad, not entirely, until the underlying issues and their resulting behaviors are dealt with and changed, and this is how you start that process. You stop running away from feeling things you need to feel to become a better person. You said your family had tried to talk to you about what happened, but you don’t want to…You need to talk about this with someone, though, and there’s rarely a better person than a family member for immediate action. You cannot do everything by yourself. You probably never even opened the research I found for you so you’d be able to better come up with things to discuss with a professional and keep in your mind for the future. You. Cannot. Do this. By. Yourself. You need to accept help and stop pushing it away or ignoring it entirely when it’s offered. You’re getting professional help but you have to believe you can accomplish this goal, be and do better, and *you* have to want to live a better life. I can’t make you. Nobody can.

The thing about all the suggestions for compromise I made and how often I made them – it wasn’t about trying to push you or force you into doing something you didn’t want or couldn’t do at the time; it was about trying in general. I bent my entire world around trying to make sure you fit in my life because I wanted you in it forever. I still want you in it, but I will never be the only one trying again, do you understand that? Friendship, relationship, whatever-kind-of-ship, I can’t be the only one expressing themselves, trying to talk, suggesting things we need to work on, anything. I. Cannot. Be. The Only One. Trying. I never needed anything to happen quickly, I just needed to do whatever needed to be done together – I needed you to try as hard as I did. It’s going to be a long time before I can let my guard down and trust anyone else with that much of myself again, even if by some moment of eye-opening, graceful change, it’s you I get to do that for again and you are as ready as I was the whole time. It was already the hardest thing I’ve ever had to learn to do, because I was apathetic and lonely, I just didn’t let myself know that. I covered my sadness by making other people laugh. I had no idea how I’d ever want to spend so much time with another person for the rest of my life, but now I do, and my biggest disappointment is that though we clicked on every level and I believe we bonded faster and stronger than we had with other people for a reason that’s been left undiscovered and halted indefinitely, you could not bring yourself to feel things like that for me. I still became a bother, a hindrance to the protective isolation you keep yourself in so you don’t have to change, because self-change is unbearable for you right now. You look to outward things to try and feel good, to feel like you’re accomplishing goals, but they always let you down. I never would’ve let you down, but you gave up before we’d tried anything to save what we had. It was worth it, I suppose, through the pain, because I know what loving someone is supposed to feel like now, at least on my end. If we are ever going to work on getting back what we had, even just the friendship part, I’m going to have to sit down and talk to you and break this barrier for myself, and you are going to have to do some things for me like I was willing to do for you, starting with talking to me about what happened. It will be the best way for me to heal, and I don’t need the therapist I’m going to start seeing tomorrow to tell me that.  

I am mourning the potential we had that you pushed away because you couldn’t let your life change for me. All I wanted was to have someone love me and show it as much as I was willing to do, and I wanted it to be you. I still so want it to be you even though I know that possibility is remote and far, far away at any rate. I was so ready for that to happen finally, in my life, and it did. I let you change my life. You didn’t let me change yours the same way and I became increasingly more devastated as I watched you pull further and further away. I made jokes to people about our time apart - “I wouldn’t know he was alive if other people weren’t posting pictures of them in their theatre costumes!” - and it would get laughs, but I felt abandoned. I’d offer explanations to people – “He just needs a weekend to himself. I understand, I’m the same way.” – but I know at least my parents could see how much that actually hurt me. I missed you, and all I needed was a reply that wasn’t a reason why you didn’t miss me yet. It broke me every time something happened that showed you didn’t miss me, but the worst thing was knowing you liked being alone more than you liked having time with me. You tried to prove to yourself that you were ready for a relationship but it didn’t work, so you moved on to other things that bring joy to your life. Knowingly or unknowingly for you, it truly feels like you used me and then dropped me when it didn’t work like you hoped. You could’ve worked with me. You should’ve. I wouldn’t let you down, even now after you’ve let me down. 

A lot of my trust in you and what I thought we had is gone because of this. How do you think it feels for someone who’s always felt left out of having a love life, who retreated into escapist fantasy and protective isolation so they wouldn’t keep getting hurt, who has never felt the kind of closeness they’ve always wanted from someone, not even from the person they finally fell in love with and changed for, to be pushed away by the one person they want closer than anyone they’ve ever had near them? I orbited your world and very rarely was allowed to land on it. When I was inside your life, it was great. You made an effort to get to Halloween because it meant a lot to me. You came to my birthday lunch even though your 4am-1pm work shift exhausts you. You put your arm around me when we sat next to each other in any groups. You made sure I was safe walking down sidewalks. You made sure I ate and was okay because you know it’s important to check on certain things for a type one diabetic. You memorized what good blood sugar numbers are for me. All these things that provided little moments to see who you are when you try. But you wouldn’t compromise even the tiniest bit on things that came up that I told you mattered to me even though that’s all I ever did for you – I let you have all the space you said you needed that eventually let you completely leave me. I didn’t ask you to Fifty Shades of Grey me, I just wanted you to hold me again because you’d stopped doing that, kiss me more than for quick goodbyes, and hold my hand. You loved me, but from like twelve feet away. I feel like I lost you so much because it feels like I’ve been abandoned. I wanted to work so hard for you and for us, but you gave up. That’s how it feels. You gave up and all I wanted was someone who never would have, just like I never would’ve given up on you. I still haven’t. It’s just on hold.  

You chose to see my speaking up about concerns arising as proof you weren’t relationship material instead of letting it be a moment you could use to try: You let your doubts use it to prove that you weren’t capable of being enough for me, or anyone, instead of using that opportunity to prove them wrong. Nothing would’ve changed quickly, but we could’ve tried. I know I was very vocal on some issues, but I never meant to try and force a sudden change, and I’m incredibly sorry if I just made it seem like pressure you couldn’t match. I was just choosing to try, suggesting compromises you always found a reason to shut down. I never needed “romance” or “sex” so much as I really needed to feel a loving connection from you. I felt it in the beginning, but then you pulled away. Some form of romance and, yes, sex, would be welcome addition to my life. I’ve lived my life without these things for the most part, and I want to know what that kind of closeness is like, but I don’t need them soon and I don’t need them as much as I just need to feel the love – love I definitely felt from you earlier on. Compromising on those things isn’t unheard of; giving way to small occasions of compromise so the other person feels listened to and respected the way they tell you they need to be is a necessary part of any relationship, even platonic ones.

The pit in my stomach has never felt deeper. I am my own person, whole by myself, but I am hollow now. I gave all the stuff on the inside to you, and now only the shell’s still there until I can fix it. I’d love nothing more than to work with you to fix it, to let this make us stronger than we ever were. You wouldn’t let me get any closer than barely more than a friend, but we both fell in love with each other anyway. That should say a lot and it should be proof of what we could still have.

You told me once on one of your bad days that you have a problem with things not being permanent. Nothing is permanent, it seems, except the bad stuff – the mediocrity of life and how nothing is ever going to be as fulfilling as you need it to be. So, I devoted my time with you and all my efforts to try and show you I was going to be a good thing that was permanent for you. You can’t know how painful it’s been to slowly watch you push me away after that.

I can only keep myself going right now by hoping you realize what you lost, too, and you come back ready to try for me the way I was trying for you. You felt like you lost a really good friend because you have, at least for now. I can’t be your friend if you keep hurting me and pushing me away like you’ve been doing. I want to be more than your friend, but even rebuilding the friendship we had in the beginning is inaccessible until you let me back in. I need to talk to you. People tell me you’re not worth it, but I know exactly how worth it you’d be if you’d let me show it and be open to the changes it makes for you. I don’t want to give up on you and I don’t want you to give up on me. Stop pushing me away. Please change your outlook on relationships and romance - let that pessimism be dissolved by someone, even if it ultimately isn’t me. I love you so, so much, and only ever wanted to show that – please let me, even if it takes a while to get there again. 

[mercadosadaf]

The Value of Swimming In Uncertain Times

Hi Swimmers

Firstly, apologies for the radio silence over the last few weeks on the blog - we've had the whole Swim Smooth team busily engaged in a complete revamp of the entire www.swimsmooth.com website and coaching interface, and whilst we are not quite done, we are getting very close and hope to resume the blog and our usual community engagement very soon. Thanks for your patience and understanding.

Today, Head Coach Paul Newsome, has prepared a reflective piece for you on the value of swimming and what it means to us all, especially in these uncertain times. We hope it allows you to pause over a cup of tea or coffee and think a little bit about your own swimming and how your relationship with the water might have changed somewhat in the last 12 months.

Paul features three brief stories of some inspiring swimmers he has had the pleasure to work with and how their swimming journeys have been significantly altered by the coronavirus, mostly for the better. Paul summarises with some of his own take-home points on how this period has changed his own thinking on swimming somewhat and how his ordinarily extrinsic competitive goalposts have shifted to a place of intrinsic challenge and finding a new calm with that. So please, relax, put your feet up and let’s get a little zen for a moment.

The Value of Swimming in Uncertain Times

I was recently invited as a guest on the new An Open Water Swimmer's Podcast with host Will Ellis (release date: 28th February here) to discuss my love and passion for swimming - an easy topic for me! Will is a great host and someone I'd taken for a Swim Smooth analysis session as part of a group over a decade ago in the UK. Given my area of technical interest in swimming, many podcasts that we've done with other hosts have always centered on these elements, but Will took a very different slant, one which focused very much on the "why" of swimming.

Why do I swim? Why do I enjoy the water? Why swimming and not another sport? I came away with a headful of thoughts that I'd either never given due consideration to before, or maybe some that crystallized a growing appreciation I've started to foster of late?

Given the current state of play with COVID-19 restrictions on our sport over the last 12 months, I feel my own relationship with water has not necessarily changed per se but it's definitely evolved. Perhaps though, it's me who's changed and it's this period of intrinsic reflection that has heightened the "why" behind what we all love to do? For many of you, could the absence of being able to do the thing you love or the thing that perhaps challenges you the most (as a triathlete maybe?) be the necessary catalyst to kick your swimming to new heights of appreciation (however you measure that) when we do all come through this? I'm certainly seeing that in myself and my squad of very lucky swimmers over here in Perth, Australia.

Lady Luck

Over the last 12 months, Perth has been heralded as one of the best places on the planet with respect to the relatively few restrictions and impact of the coronavirus - many of us scarcely realizing how lucky we are. Next week will see 3,500 people start one of the largest open water swims on the planet, the Rottnest Channel Swim, in which I will be competing with a good friend over the 20km distance. We have, however, just come out of a heavily publicized (albeit very short) 5-day lockdown here in Perth which restricted access to the pools and saw us only being able to swim solo in the open water or with one other family member. This incident garnered international press on account of the very rapid and focused response to a single case in the community transferred between a quarantined hotel guest and a security guard. The whole state came to a grinding halt for just one case - everything ceased and panic was high. Despite extensive testing (myself included) of those who may have been in the vicinity of this one person, fortunately, no other community transmission has occurred. Consequently, life is returning to some form of normality again. 

One of the hardest things I've personally struggled with over the last 12 months though is being able to fully appreciate and empathize with just how brutal this period must have been - and continues to be - for many of you from the perspective of being able to simply enjoy the pleasures of a nice swim. Lady Luck has shone down on me, and for why, I do not know? I feel a toiling mixed sense of guilt, of pure luck, and of umbrage at myself for the seemingly petty feeling of missing the ability to travel overseas and share my love of swimming with you all, wherever you might be. I miss it so much and yet feel I have no right to do so given where I have the good fortune to be right now. 

I had a frank conversation before Christmas with my Mum about this. Many of you know Linda as "Mother Smooth" and if you've ever ordered anything from us, she'd have sent it to you. True to the adage that "Mum always knows best", I finally managed to pluck up the courage and expand on how excited I was to be taking my wife and two kids camping over the Christmas holidays to a beautiful town called Albany in the South West which we'd all visited together as a family a few years earlier. Mother Smooth couldn't understand why I'd not told her sooner, to which I responded that I didn't want to make her feel bad. "Feel bad?" she quizzed, "I am at my happiest when I know you are happy". Profound stuff - good old Mum!

The Changing Tide

So, what has this all really got to do with swimming? If you are in the northern hemisphere, chances are you are sick to the back teeth of hearing about the coronavirus and maybe even more so the thought that other pockets of the world are experiencing far fewer restrictions than yourself currently. Last week's swift lockdown gave me a rapid reminder though just how uncertain these times can be - the tide can change on a dime so easily. What has been remarkable for me has been watching how those of you who still continue in enforced lockdowns have survived this last 12 months and I'd like to recognize some of the cool - and crazy - things you've been doing, obviously simply for the joy of needing to get your swim in! Perhaps you can tell us more about how you've weathered this storm so far?

Helen Webster, UK

I met Helen in March 2014 at the 220 Triathlon Show in London. As the editor of the 220 Triathlon Magazine, Helen had taken it upon herself to learn to swim freestyle properly for an upcoming triathlon and I was tasked with assisting her with that goal in an Endless Pool and in front of hundreds of people. For someone with very little swimming experience at that point, Helen did amazingly well in front of such a crowd and it’s a testament to her bubbly “can do” spirit that she took on this challenge!

We spent a good hour or so filming her stroke, analyzing it (in front of everyone!), and then getting back into the pool to correct her issues which mainly centred around developing confidence in the water and improving the timing of her stroke, specifically her breathing. Back then, Helen was what we’d have described as a classic Bambino - someone very new to swimming with a relatively high level of anxiety in the water - so to see the following images circulating on Helen’s Facebook page in the last couple of weeks simply blew my mind! Helen’s gone all Bear Grylls on us and now is not happy unless she has to break the ice in her backyard pool just to ensure she gets her swim in! I’m so proud of her as a mate!

Here's Helen on what the last 12 months have meant for her swimming:

"Open-water swimming has been a key part of my training week ever since taking those first steps with Paul all those years ago! Lockdown had made me realise just how important swimming is to me though and in so many ways. Not living near the coast and with managed venues nearby forced to close I've realised how much I rely on swimming for lifting my mood, giving me a pause from a busy world and fully immersing myself in nature. I'm a pool swimmer too and with centres all closed I'm even missing the tang of chlorine and having to do kick drills!!

It sounds melodramatic but a tearful moment on the phone with a friend prompted her to gift me a garden pool and swimming tethered has given me a route back to the water (thanks to Swim Smooth Coach Jason Tait for the tethered swim sets!). It's also led me to a new swim community who are making the most of what they have and finding humour in sitting in ice baths and under hosepipes, or sharing tips for how to stop your garden pool freezing!

I can't wait to have my 'proper' swimming back and believe me, will never take it for granted again. I'm planning a swim challenge for September and keeping fingers crossed it goes ahead!"

Sue Allingham, Denmark

Sue attended one of our 3-day Swim Smooth Coach Education Courses in Mallorca, Spain back in May 2019 and was clearly a super-passionate swimmer and coach. We’ve remained in close contact via Messenger since and she frequently sends me crazy pictures of where she’s been swimming, however, nothing could quite prepare me for this one - her frozen Margarita experience (as she calls it)!

When I asked Sue about what the last 12 months have meant for her swimming, she said this:

"A year ago I entered the World Ice Swimming Championships in Bled Slovenia for a laugh. 2 weeks later I broke both my wrists and then Lockdown! By April I was going stir crazy and the day I had my casts removed, I got back into the sea, as the pools were shut. Little did I know that I would continue going in every day since! As my wrists got stronger, I could swim longer but the thought of trying to pull on a wetsuit was hanging over my head. By the time I probably could get one on I no longer felt the need. I continued to swim throughout the year and ended up becoming the Danish age-group champion in 25m & 100m Freestyle - Ice swimming and 5k Openwater. 

A year on from Covid and we are still in the sea and simply just grabbing any opportunity to jump in the water, to try new beaches or temperatures. As you can see from the picture, we’ve started making our own frozen Margaritas! 

What will I do when the pools open again? Dive in and just keep swimming! Never thought I’d miss the black line so much. Swimming as always is such a social thing & drinking coffee with friends after each swim has really made Lockdown actually enjoyable. Already looking at SwimRuns in Sweden, hopefully as it’s close by we may be allowed to travel. Otherwise lots of pre-paid events carried over from last year. I live in hope. 

One thing is for sure, the sea is always open!"

Mark Turner, Switzerland

Mark also attended one of our other 3-day Swim Smooth Coach Education Courses in Mallorca, Spain (the week after Sue) and had just a few months prior completed the Rottnest Channel Swim here in Perth. Mark set up the world’s most prestigious multi-day cycling event for amateurs, the Haute Route, which is a brutally tough challenge in a breathtakingly beautiful landscape. Mark was also the man behind Ellen MacArthur’s sailing career (who set the world record in 2005 for the fastest solo circumnavigation of the globe), the Offshore Challenges/OC Sport business, and the Extreme Sailing Series, and is widely seen as a visionary in the sport of sailing. And, if all that wasn't enough, Mark led the Volvo Ocean Race series as CEO in 2016/17. Needless to say, Mark is not someone to do things by half and is always up for a (big) challenge! 

Mark now lives in Switzerland on the banks of Lake Geneva and is fastidious about his swimming, especially a weekly completion of the infamous 10 x 400m Red Mist Endurance session! Like with many parts of the world, Mark has had unreliable access to his local pool over the last 12 months and so has turned to the great outdoors instead…even during the middle of winter! Hooking up regularly with like-minded souls in these freezing temperatures has been what has kept Mark going and will stand him in good stead when the world finally comes back to some sense of normality.

It Is What It Is

I think one of the most obvious things with each of these three swimmers - and yourself hopefully too - is that they’ve simply rolled with the punches that 2020 and beyond has brought their way. They’ve got on with it, adapted, pivoted, and thrived in a new environment and in doing so sought out other goals to keep them motivated and in the game. Resilience personified. We always talk so virtuously in training and racing about “control the controllable”, and clearly, none of this is in any of our control right now. Way back in April 2020 when we were still in lockdown and I was personally unable to coach, a very close friend and one of my athletes, Nolan McDonnell told me to “stop trying to save us all - we can look after ourselves!” in response to me frantically trying to work out how to keep everyone fit and engaged when I couldn’t be with them face-to-face. It really struck a chord with me, and whilst it didn’t happen overnight, I did begin to accept the situation. 

Knowing I wouldn’t be able to travel and spread the Swim Smooth word - as has been my life over the last 16 or so years - was a real blow, but ever so gradually I started to move beyond this and to focus on what I could do, not what I couldn’t. For me personally, that’s meant plenty more time at home with the family, and as we are seeing on the pool deck at the moment, plenty of opportunities to be super consistent with our respective training schedules too. The squad here in Perth has never swum so quickly before, ever! Why? Everyone has their groundhog day schedule dialled in and they’re sticking to it because there’s nowhere else to go, and there’s something very centring about that, zen even. 

Fancying a challenge myself - and recognizing the collective benefit of encouraging others to follow suit - I have even got myself back into doing a few triathlons, marathon swims, and even the odd SwimRun event too! Taking on a range of varied challenges was in an effort to not put all our eggs into one basket in case events got canceled or postponed. 

Again, I’m super privileged to be able to do these things right now, and part of that appreciation brings a whole new angle on why we do what we do. For me, it’s all been about my shared experience of training up with one of my best mates Chris to do the Rottnest Channel Swim together as a Duo next week. With last week’s unprecedented lockdown it looked certain to be canceled but you know what, I wasn’t bothered in the slightest! The religiously attended Sunday morning swim with Chris in the river is what it’s all about - not the event itself. Swimming + Best Mate = Win. 

Sure, the race will be a nice finale, but the old adage of “the journey is better than the destination” is what this whole crazy period has really taught me. We egg each other on even in the middle of winter and for me, this has seen a major step away from the profound sense of training for competition’s sake, to training for training’s sake, and for the social camaraderie that this has brought. I wouldn’t change that for the world.

Even if you haven’t had the opportunity (yet) to be quite so free in your activities, that time will come again, hopefully very soon, and in the meantime, just set yourself some little consistency of routine benchmarks to tick off. Get creative like our friends above (just maybe not quite so crazy!). How many swims in the river can you consistently do every Sunday? Can you always ensure you meet up with Bob for your Friday lunchtime jog in the park? Make sure you commit to that group ride on Zwift you booked in for on the Companion app etc. It’s the little things, done often that will keep you going and when the world opens up again, you’ll be ready! 

Thanks for reading. Swim on!

Paul

from Sports http://www.feelforthewater.com/2021/02/the-value-of-swimming-in-uncertain-times.html via http://www.rssmix.com/

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The Value of Swimming in Uncertain Times

Hi Swimmers

Firstly, apologies for the radio silence over the last few weeks on the blog - we’ve had the whole team busily engaged in a complete revamp of the entire www.swimsmooth.com website and coaching interface, and whilst we are not quite done with all that yet, we are getting very close and hope to resume these blogs and our usual community engagement in due course very soon. Thanks for your patience and understanding.

Today, Head Coach, Paul Newsome, has prepared a reflective piece for you on the value of swimming and what it means to us all, especially in these uncertain times. We hope it allows you to pause over a cup of tea or coffee and think a little bit about your own swimming and how your relationship with the water might have changed somewhat in the last 12 months. Paul features three brief stories of some inspiring swimmers he has had the pleasure to work with and how their swimming journeys have been significantly altered by the coronavirus, mostly for the better. Paul summarises with some of his own take-home points on how this period has changed his own thinking on swimming somewhat and how his ordinarily extrinsic competitive goalposts have shifted to a place of intrinsic challenge and finding a new calm with that. So please, relax, put your feet up and let’s get a little zen for a moment.

The Value of Swimming in Uncertain Times

I was recently invited as a guest on the new "An Open Water Swimmer's Podcast" with host Will Ellis (release date: 28th February here) to discuss my love and passion for swimming - an easy topic for me! Will is a great host and someone I'd taken for a Swim Smooth analysis session as part of a group over a decade ago in the UK. Given my area of technical interest in swimming, many podcasts that we've done with other hosts have always centered on these elements, but Will took a very different slant, one which focused very much on the "why" of swimming. Why do I swim? Why do I enjoy the water? Why swimming and not another sport? I came away with a headful of thoughts that I'd either never given due consideration to before, or maybe some that crystallized a growing appreciation I've started to foster of late?

Given the current state of play with COVID-19 restrictions on our sport over the last 12 months, I feel my own relationship with water has not necessarily changed per se, but it's definitely evolved. Perhaps though, it's me who's changed and it's this period of intrinsic reflection that has heightened the "why" behind what we all love to do? For many of you, could the absence of being able to do the thing you love or the thing that perhaps challenges you the most (as a triathlete maybe?), be the necessary catalyst to kick your swimming to new heights of appreciation (however you measure that) when we do all come through this? I'm certainly seeing that in myself and my squad of very lucky swimmers over here in Perth, Australia.

Lady Luck

Over the last 12 months, Perth has been heralded as one of the best places on the planet with respect to the relatively few restrictions and impact of the coronavirus - many of us scarcely realizing how lucky we are. Next week will see 3,500 people start one of the largest open water swims on the planet, the Rottnest Channel Swim, in which I will be competing with a good friend over the 20km distance. We have, however, just come out of a heavily publicized (albeit very short) 5-day lockdown here in Perth which restricted access to the pools and saw us only being able to swim solo in the open water or with one other family member. This incident garnered international press on account of the very rapid and focused response to a single case in the community transferred between a quarantined hotel guest and a security guard. The whole state came to a grinding halt for just one case - everything ceased and panic was high. Despite extensive testing (myself included) of those who may have been in the vicinity of this one person, fortunately, no other community transmission has occurred. Consequently, life is returning to some form of normality again. 

One of the hardest things I've personally struggled with over the last 12 months though is being able to fully appreciate and empathize with just how brutal this period must have been - and continues to be - for many of you from the perspective of being able to simply enjoy the pleasures of a nice swim. Lady Luck has shone down on me, and for why, I do not know? I feel a toiling mixed sense of guilt, of pure luck, and of umbrage at myself for the seemingly petty feeling of missing the ability to travel overseas and share my love of swimming with you all, wherever you might be. I miss it so much and yet feel I have no right to do so given where I have the good fortune to be right now. 

I had a frank conversation before Christmas with my Mum about this. Many of you know Linda as "Mother Smooth" and if you've ever ordered anything from us, she'd have sent it to you. True to the adage that "Mum always knows best", I finally managed to pluck up the courage and expand on how excited I was to be taking my wife and two kids camping over the Christmas holidays to a beautiful town called Albany in the South West which we'd all visited together as a family a few years earlier. Mother Smooth couldn't understand why I'd not told her sooner, to which I responded that I didn't want to make her feel bad. "Feel bad?" she quizzed, "I am at my happiest when I know you are happy". Profound stuff - good old Mum!

The Changing Tide

So, what has this all really got to do with swimming? If you are in the northern hemisphere, chances are you are sick to the back teeth of hearing about the coronavirus and maybe even more so the thought that other pockets of the world are experiencing far fewer restrictions than yourself currently. Last week's swift lockdown gave me a rapid reminder though just how uncertain these times can be - the tide can change on a dime so easily. What has been remarkable for me has been watching how those of you who still continue in enforced lockdowns have survived this last 12 months and I'd like to recognize some of the cool - and crazy - things you've been doing, obviously simply for the joy of needing to get your swim in! Perhaps you can tell us more about how you've weathered this storm so far?

Helen Webster, UK

I met Helen in March 2014 at the 220 Triathlon Show in London. As Editor of the 220 Triathlon Magazine, Helen had taken it upon herself to learn to swim freestyle properly for an upcoming triathlon and I was tasked with assisting her with that goal in an Endless Pool and in front of hundreds of people. For someone with very little swimming experience at that point, Helen did amazingly well in front of such a crowd and it’s a testament to her bubbly “can do” spirit that she took on this challenge!

We spent a good hour or so filming her stroke, analyzing it (in front of everyone!), and then getting back into the pool to correct her issues which mainly centered around developing confidence in the water and improving the timing of her stroke, specifically her breathing. Back then, Helen was what we’d have described as a classic Bambino - someone very new to swimming with a relatively high level of anxiety in the water - so to see the following images circulating on Helen’s Facebook page in the last couple of weeks simply blew my mind! Helen’s gone all Bear Grylls on us and now is not happy unless she has to break the ice in her backyard pool just to ensure she gets her swim in! I’m so proud of her as a mate!

Here's Helen on what the last 12 months have meant for her swimming:

"Open-water swimming has been a key part of my training week ever since taking those first steps with Paul all those years ago! Lockdown had made me realise just how important swimming is to me though and in so many ways. Not living near the coast and with managed venues nearby forced to close I've realised how much I rely on swimming for lifting my mood, giving me a pause from a busy world and fully immersing myself in nature. I'm a pool swimmer too and with centres all closed I'm even missing the tang of chlorine and having to do kick drills!!

It sounds melodramatic but a tearful moment on the phone with a friend promoted her to gift me a garden pool and swimming tethered has given me a route back to the water (thanks to Swim Smooth Coach Jason Tait for the tethered swim sets!). It's also led me to a new swim community who are making the most of what they have and finding humour in sitting in ice baths and under hosepipes, or sharing tips for how to stop your garden pool freezing!

I can't wait to have my 'proper' swimming back and believe me, will never take it for granted again. I'm planning a swim challenge for September and keeping fingers crossed it goes ahead!"

Sue Allingham, Denmark

Sue attended one of our 3-day Swim Smooth Coach Education Courses in Mallorca, Spain back in May 2019 and was clearly a super-passionate swimmer and coach. We’ve remained in close contact via Messenger since and she frequently sends me crazy pictures of where she’s been swimming, however, nothing could quite prepare me for this one - her frozen Margarita experience (as she calls it)!

When I asked Sue about what the last 12 months have meant for her swimming, she said this:

"A year ago I entered the World Ice Swimming Championships in Bled Slovenia for a laugh. 2 weeks later I broke both my wrists and then Lockdown! By April I was going stir crazy and the day I had my casts removed, I got back into the sea, as the pools were shut. Little did I know that I would continue going in every day since! As my wrists got stronger, I could swim longer but the thought of trying to pull on a wetsuit was hanging over my head. By the time I probably could get one on I no longer felt the need. I continued to swim throughout the year and ended up becoming the Danish age-group champion in 25m & 100m Freestyle - Ice swimming and 5k Openwater. 

A year on from Covid and we are still in the sea and simply just grabbing any opportunity to jump in the water, to try new beaches or temperatures. As you can see from the picture, we’ve started making our own frozen Margaritas! 

What will I do when the pools open again? Dive in and just keep swimming! Never thought I’d miss the black line so much. Swimming as always is such a social thing & drinking coffee with friends after each swim has really made Lockdown actually enjoyable. Already looking at SwimRuns in Sweden, hopefully as it’s close by we may be allowed to travel. Otherwise lots of pre-paid events carried over from last year. I live in hope. 

One thing is for sure, the sea is always open!"

Mark Turner, Switzerland

Mark also attended one of our other 3-day Swim Smooth Coach Education Courses in Mallorca, Spain (the week after Sue) and had just a few months prior completed the Rottnest Channel Swim here in Perth. Mark set up the world’s most prestigious multi-day cycling event for amateurs, the Haute Route, which is a brutally tough challenge in a breathtakingly beautiful landscape. Mark was also the man behind Ellen MacArthur’s sailing career (who set the world record in 2005 for the fastest solo circumnavigation of the globe), the Offshore Challenges/OC Sport business, and the Extreme Sailing Series, and is widely seen as a visionary in the sport of sailing. And, if all that wasn't enough, Mark led the Volvo Ocean Race series as CEO in 2016/17. Needless to say, Mark is not someone to do things by half and is always up for a (big) challenge! 

Mark now lives in Switzerland on the banks of Lake Geneva and is fastidious about his swimming, especially a weekly completion of the infamous 10 x 400m Red Mist Endurance session! Like with many parts of the world, Mark has had unreliable access to his local pool over the last 12 months and so has turned to the great outdoors instead…even during the middle of winter! Hooking up regularly with like-minded souls in these freezing temperatures has been what has kept Mark going and will stand him in good stead when the world finally comes back to some sense of normality.

It Is What It Is

I think one of the most obvious things with each of these three swimmers - and yourself hopefully too - is that they’ve simply rolled with the punches that 2020 and beyond has brought their way. They’ve got on with it, adapted, pivoted, and thrived in a new environment and in doing so sought out other goals to keep them motivated and in the game. Resilience personified. We always talk so virtuously in training and racing about “control the controllable”, and clearly, none of this is in any of our control right now. Way back in April 2020 when we were still in lockdown and I was personally unable to coach, a very close friend and one of my athletes, Nolan McDonnell told me to “stop trying to save us all - we can look after ourselves!” in response to me frantically trying to work out how to keep everyone fit and engaged when I couldn’t be with them face-to-face. It really struck a chord with me, and whilst it didn’t happen overnight, I did begin to accept the situation. 

Knowing I wouldn’t be able to travel and spread the Swim Smooth word - as has been my life over the last 16 or so years - was a real blow, but ever so gradually I started to move beyond this and to focus on what I could do, not what I couldn’t. For me personally, that’s meant plenty more time at home with the family, and as we are seeing on the pool deck at the moment, plenty of opportunities to be super consistent with our respective training schedules too. The squad here in Perth has never swum so quickly before, ever! Why? Everyone has their groundhog day schedule dialed in and they’re sticking to it because there’s nowhere else to go, and there’s something very centering about that, zen even. 

Fancying a challenge myself - and recognizing the collective benefit of encouraging others to follow suit - I have even got myself back into doing a few triathlons, marathon swims, and even the odd SwimRun event too! Taking on a range of varied challenges was in an effort to not put all our eggs into one basket in case events got canceled or postponed. 

Again, I’m super privileged to be able to do these things right now, and part of that appreciation brings a whole new angle on why we do what we do. For me, it’s all been about my shared experience of training up with one of my best mates Chris to do the Rottnest Channel Swim together as a Duo next week. With last week’s unprecedented lockdown it looked certain to be canceled but you know what, I wasn’t bothered in the slightest! The religiously attended Sunday morning swim with Chris in the river is what it’s all about - not the event itself. Swimming + Best Mate = Win. Sure, the race will be a nice finale, but the old adage of “the journey is better than the destination” is what this whole crazy period has really taught me. We egg each other on even in the middle of winter and for me, this has seen a major step away from the profound sense of training for competition’s sake, to training for training’s sake, and for the social camaraderie that this has brought. I wouldn’t change that for the world.

Even if you haven’t had the opportunity (yet) to be quite so free in your activities, that time will come again, hopefully very soon, and in the meantime, just set yourself some little consistency of routine benchmarks to tick off. Get creative like our friends above (just maybe not quite so crazy!). How many swims in the river can you consistently do every Sunday? Can you always ensure you meet up with Bob for your Friday lunchtime jog in the park? Make sure you commit to that group ride on Zwift you booked in for on the Companion app etc. It’s the little things, done often that will keep you going and when the world opens up again, you’ll be ready! 

Thanks for reading. Swim on!

Paul

from Sports http://www.feelforthewater.com/2021/02/the-value-of-swimming-in-uncertain-times.html via http://www.rssmix.com/