#he has surgery on his wrist once so I obviously went with him to have the procedure

[atlafan]

I remember this one time nick had a sore throat and he was being a baby, as most men are when they’re sick, so I grabbed one of the big spoons from the drawer, squeezed a ton of honey onto it, and shoved it in his mouth

[a-very-neat-monst3r]

LONG POST AHEAD

SERIOUSLY LONG POST AHEAD

Most recent is that I almost had myself admitted for a 72 hour hold🙃 But I’ll start from the beginning.

I haven’t been on in 5 days and so much has happened. SO much. Over the course of this month, I’ve lost my job, was in a car accident, had to attend the emergency room in 3 occasions all together, and all for different purposes.

Obviously the car accident was the first. Everyone was okay, we all got away with scrapes and bruises. My dad got the worst of it, as it was the passenger side that was hit. He ended up with a broken left wrist and a broken right foot, which he has had surgery because they needed to literally screw his foot back together. All is well now, it’s been a few weeks and he got his walking boot on Thursday. I’ve been taking care of him while he’s healing, which has been perfectly fine. I’ve never had a problem living with my dad because we’re so alike in personality. However, the trauma and guilt from the crash have made my mental state almost impossible to control. It added to everything going on in my head.

The second ER visit was for an access, which was terrifying, scary, painful. I hope I don’t need surgery to fix it, but I’ll find out on Thursday.

The last time I went to the emergency was Sunday. Over the weekend I had reconnected with my oldest best friend and stayed at her place catching up from the last 6/7 years. The very first night I was there was completely fine. However! It went downhill very quickly. Not that anything bad happened, but I was explaining things to my friend, and the first thing she told me was that she guaranteed all of my memory problems, speech, basic skills and other small problems were caused from having had SO much trauma over my life that after almost 27 years, it all finally caught up with me.

The entire time I was there after she told me that, I was miserable. Not because of her or anyone else, just my mindset. She was so so right and it took my entire life to realize this.

I don’t ride in cars unless I have to, or if I do I sit in the backseat because I don’t want to see traffic at all. If I see another car too close for my comfort I instantly start crying and panicking. Watching a woman get out of her car made things so much worse, because once I saw that steering wheel and empty drivers seat all I could do was picture myself behind the wheel.

On Sunday the plan was to stay for the daughters birthday party, but after my ptsd had me shut down in the corner of her room sobbing and holding a blanket… I knew I had to go.

THIS ENTIRE TIME, over the course of easily a year or two, I’ve been having problems with my memory, walking, and other things. My vision had slowly been getting worse but that wasn’t a surprise because I didn’t have insurance for a couple of years to get new glasses. I got to the point over the last couple of years where my sight was so bad I couldn’t make out the black blobs of letters and had people reading things for me. I was terrified I was slowly going blind, but until recently, I never really thought anything of it because it was only once in a while… but I never told anyone, and I should have.

I pleaded to a god I don’t even believe in to let me make it from the car door to my front door without tipping over and losing control of my walking. At this point the dizziness and trying to walk were my biggest physically problems. We made it inside, spoke to my dad, and then stumble/FALL into my chair and close my eyes wanting everything to stop spinning and for no one to notice. I had to get something from the kitchen, held into whatever I could to keep standing to get there, with legs so wobbly I can fall over without a warning. I had been trying to text my sister about what I was feeling and we do have several mental illnesses in the family, including dementia and Alzheimer’s. This may sound extreme but I was convinced it was something along those lines. Like i said, these are very common in our family.

Nope.

I went to the ER for the last time knowing that my mental state was horrible and this is when I almost had myself admitted.

Like I said, I was in a bad car accident but walked away with only crazy scrapes and bruises, no concussion. I kept the possibility of a late showing concussion in my mind, too.

My grandmother is literally holding my hand and helping me walk to the car because I can’t stand straight.

If it helps, imagine losing your balance and tipping over because suddenly your legs decide they’re done for. Think of it as walking home drunk, and falling over all the time. But literally all the time.

I even told my family I knew since I was a kid I was meant to die in a car accident. Driving has always been one of my top fears, and the first time I have my drivers permit is the first time I caused an accident.

I know this all over the place but I cant explain how hard it was for me to pour out the words I needed to. I almost couldn’t.

You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to tell your family that you’re suffering from survivors guilt for something that never happened. No one died.

But I was supposed to.

THE BEST PART is that when I left the emergency room, I was perfectly clear headed, I had calmed down a smidge over the last couple of hours.

Literally all of my blood work came back fine, nothing at all to worry about with anything.

It’s hard to describe the feeling when someone else verifies that it really IS all in my head. I’ve ignored myself and my mental state and needs for SO long my body was starting to actually shut itself down until I paid attention.

Everyone keeps telling me I need to let go of of everything I’ve been holding onto, every bad thing I’ve always had feelings or experiences with. I’m a passive person, I don’t cause problems but I try to solve them. I end up taking care of other people and doing things so I push everything in a pile to the back of my mind.

How the fuck do I do that?

I’m trying to get back to my old therapists office and see if she is still there. Like I said, I lost insurance and couldn’t afford to take of myself much anymore in the way of doctors. I was supposed to have a job interview yesterday but when I woke up there was instant unstoppable stress because thinking about doing the interview had me worried it would make me feel worse and add on extra stress. My family assures me it’s fine and it’s okay for me to take time to collect myself and they will take care of things during that period.

I have a lot of guilt for a lot of things I guess I’m not supposed to feel guilty for, and I think that having SO SO much piled up from even being a kid that I actually busted.

It only took 27 years.

[agustdakasuga]

Between The Bloodshed | Chapter 2

Genre: Mafia!AU, Angst, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Doctor!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Being a freelance doctor, this was just supposed to be any other job, helping a private client and taking care of him through his recovery. But you were not expecting to get caught in something so much darker that would change your life entirely.

Already from day 1, this house seems to be more bustling than you expected. As you interact with each family member, you notice their different personalities and characters. 

Warning: This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. It may contain depictions of violence, blood shed/ gore and mentions of abuse. Please read at your own discretion.

When you woke up the next morning, you took 5 minutes to stare at the ceiling. Despite being a person with your job, you still weren’t a morning person. You pulled yourself out of bed, opening the curtains and heading into your bathroom. You changed into a button up shirt and a skirt. 

“Good morning, doctor. I’m here to take you down for breakfast.” A butler bowed as you opened the door.

“Morning. Thank you.” You forced a smile. You followed him downstairs, walking in the same dining room as the night before. Mentally, you groaned at the thought of the awkward meal. 

“I think I’ll skip going to the dining room. Do you have a coffee machine around here?” You asked him. The butler seemed flustered by your words. 

“But the masters request that you sit with them.” He said. 

“I will... I just need my coffee first.” You rubbed the back of your neck. You really didn’t want to go in but at the same time, you weren’t going to make this man’s life difficult. The butler bowed, gesturing in another direction and you followed him. You saw the coffee machine and let out a sigh of relief. Walking over, you began to make coffee. 

“Can I have a big glass? Filled with ice, please.” You requested. He nodded, scurrying away quickly to get you what you need. Anything to get you into that dining room as soon as possible. 

“This is a nice machine.” You noted, pouring the espresso shots over the ice and filling the rest of it with water. You stuck your metal straw into it. 

“I’ll go to the dining room. Thank you.” You told the butler, walking to the dining room yourself. 

“Good morning, doc.” Jin waved as you entered. 

“Morning.” You waved lazily, taking the same seat that you took last night. A breakfast tray was placed in front of you. There was some rice porridge and side dishes. 

“How was your sleep?” Namjoon asked. 

“It was okay.” You said with a small shrug, putting a small piece of kimchi into your mouth. You were never really a breakfast person because eating in the morning made your stomach feel weird. All you really needed was tons coffee to get you going. 

“Good morning, (y/n).” Jimin came in with a yawn, his hair all messy up and clothes all wrinkled. 

“Morning, Jimin.” You replied nonchalantly. The other boys looked at each other as you and Jimin called each other by first name. Jimin just sat down beside you, picking his chopsticks up. 

“Uh, doc?” Jungkook’s head poked into the dining room. Stopping your chewing, you turned to see him. 

“Have you started work?” He asked. 

“Good morning to you too, Jungkook sshi. And yes, hold on a sec.” You wiped your mouth, grabbing your coffee and walked over to him. Once away from the others, Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous smile. You raised an eyebrow and that was when your eyes trailed down to the end of his long sleeved shirt. 

“Show me.” You said. Jungkook pulled his sleeves up, showing his bruised and bloodied knuckles. 

“Can you patch them up?” You nodded over to your office and he followed behind you. As you pushed open the door, you turned the lights on and placed your coffee mug on the table. Jungkook stood there, blinking. 

“Umm...” 

“Sit there.” You told him as you went to wash your hands by the sink. Jungkook sat down on the chair and you grabbed your first aid kit. 

“Hold still.” You told him as you placed the antiseptic on a cotton wool, dabbing it on the scabs. Jungkook winced in pain, letting out a few curses as you continued to clean the wounds. 

“Can you be a little gentler?” He hissed. 

“I’m sure you weren’t gentle when you got these either. If you can get this hurt, this pain should be nothing.” You replied, not looking up at him. Placing the bloodied cotton onto a tray, you threw it away and washed your hands again. Sitting back down, you took the bandages out. 

“You’re done.” You fastened the gauze with metal clips. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?” Jungkook asked as you retreated to keep the first aid kit. 

“Do you want me to ask?” You asked back. Jungkook pursed his lips, scrunching his nose. You chuckled at his expression, he reminded you a child.

“Then let’s just say you have a bad temper, hmm?” You teased as you sat down at your desk. Jungkook scoffed at your words but stood up. he saluted at you before he left the office. 

“I’m here.” The door slammed open. You looked up from your computer. 

“Good morning, Yoongi sshi. You seem to be in a good mood.” You said as you got up from your seat. Yoongi stood by the doorway, rolling his eyes. 

“I already told Namjoon I don’t need a babysitter.” Yoongi scowled. 

“It’s not a babysitter, Yoongi sshi. I’m just helping you with your physiotherapy. The sooner you get that shoulder moving again, the sooner we can get this bulky cast off and you’ll be as good as new. Wouldn’t you like to wear normal shirts and pants again?” You sighed as you slowly helped him to unfasten his cast but he glared at you. 

“Don’t speak like you know.” 

“I’m simply hinting that this flannel and track pants combination doesn’t really work but hey, if you think it works, then you do you.” You shrugged. Yoongi growled in annoyance, obviously not liking your job.

“Okay, okay, calm down. Geez, tough crowd.” You shook your head. Yoongi rolled his eyes.

“You’ll need to remove your shirt so I can check your wound. If the stitches have not closed, we can’t start therapy or your wounds might reopen.” You told him. 

“Fine.” You let him unbutton his shirt and lower it to see the incision. You hummed in approval at the condition of his post surgery shoulder. 

“Alright. You’re good to start.” You said and he buttoned up his shirt again. You moved to stand in front of him and as you gently held his wrist, you could feel him stiffen. Obviously, you weren’t going to call him out on his nervousness. Patients were always guarded around injuries. 

“Slowly. Relax.” You said softly and began to help him. 

“Does this hurt?” You asked. He shook his head and you continued to slowly move him through his exercises. Slowly, Yoongi began to lose the sour look on his face and just did what you told him to do. 

“That hurt!” Yoongi barked.

“Sorry, I guess that is your maximum movement for now. Hold on.” Taking a pen, you scribbled this down on your notepad. 

“Good to continue?” You asked him. He looked away but nodded his head. You continued to do some small exercises with him. You smiled mentally as you felt him start to relax. 

KNOCK KNOCK

“Who is it?” You called out. 

“Jin!” 

“I’m kind of busy at the moment. Is it important?” You said, still focused on Yoongi. Yoongi was quite surprised that you were able to focus on him even with Jin talking to you through the door but of course, he didn’t show it. You had a small frown on your face and you were biting your lower lip, showing how focused you were. 

“I noticed you didn’t really touch your breakfast so I brought you a snack.” Jin continued.

“I’m good. Not a breakfast person. Thanks though.” You replied. After that, you heard Jin’s retreating footsteps. Your eyes moved to the clock and you saw how much time has passed. 

“That’s all for today.” You gave a small smile and pulled away. Grabbing his sling, you began strapping him back. 

“You may feel a little sore but it’s normal after your first session. If it’s unbearable, I’ll give you a light painkiller.” You told him. Yoongi just stared at you. 

“Depending on how you feel after this session, we might have our next one in 5 days. If you’re too sore from today, we’ll just wait a week.” You told him as you walked him to the door. Yoongi nodded but didn’t spare you another glance before walking out. 

“You’re welcome, I guess.” You mumbled before closing the door and sitting back down. 

“(y/n)!” The door opened and Jimin came bounding in with Hoseok behind him. Hoseok placed down a tray of snacks with some drinks. 

“Busy morning?” Hoseok asked. 

“Nope.” You shook your head as you continued typing your notes for Yoongi’s physiotherapy session. Also, you had to plan the exercises for his next session with you. 

“Still, you gotta eat. So we brought snacks. We can have you fainting on us, we don’t have another doctor on standby.” Hoseok said.

“Very funny.” You said sarcastically. There were some boiled eggs, fruit and kimbap pieces on the tray. You picked up a boiled egg, taking a bite as you continued reading your screen. Then you realised that Hoseok and Jimin were still there, taking the opportunity to explore your office. Hoseok laid down on the patient bed while Jimin sat on your stool. 

“Don’t you guys have work to do?” You asked. 

“Not us. We don’t actually work as much as you think we do.” Jimin said, spinning around on your stool. 

“What about you?” Hoseok propped his head up, resting it on his palm. 

“Do my own work. Unless someone needs my help.” You replied. Namjoon’s contract with you was simple, help the boys out when they needed it. Other than that, you were free to do whatever you wanted.

“I’m bored, let’s do something!” Jimin jumped up. 

“Alright, have fun.” You replied, still looking at the screen and typing. The boys looked at each other before looking back at you. 

“You’re coming with us.” Hoseok declared. 

“No thanks.” You waved them off. They were going to protest when there was a knock on the door. Taehyung stood there, a slight frown on his face. You finally looked away from your screen and up at him. Taehyung cleared his throat, waving his phone around. 

“Namjoon hyung has been trying to contact you guys! Don’t you know how to answer your phones?” He glared. 

“What’s up, Tae?” Jimin asked. 

“Issues.” Taehyung looked at you and you rolled your eyes. This was your office anyway, not like you were eavesdropping or anything. Taehyung grabbed Hoseok and Jimin, pulling them out of the room. 

“Finally, some peace and quiet.” You sighed, standing up. You stretched your back and arms. Grabbing the stool that Jimin was previously sitting on, you sat in front of your medicine cabinet and began to check the drugs, as well as noting down what was missing from the list that you had given Namjoon. At the same time, you refilled the first aid kit. 

“Back so soon?” You spoke as you heard the door open but didn’t turn around. There being no reply, you turned to see Namjoon there. 

“Namjoon sshi? What can I help you with?” You stood up. 

“There has been an emergency at one of our work places. Do you think you could... come with us?” He asked. You blinked at him for a second before nodding your head. 

“You’re the boss.” You grabbed the first aid boxes. Slipping your white coat on, you followed him out and into the foyer. 

“She’s going?” Yoongi asked, lounging on the couch. 

“Yes.” Namjoon said, grabbed his car keys. Before you could follow, someone grabbed your wrist to stop you. You turned around to see Jin grabbing you. Namjoon stopped as well, turning to look at the oldest. 

“No. Namjoon, not on her first day. Doc, go back to your office.” Jin said sternly. This was too much drama for day 1. You didn’t know who you should listen to. Suddenly, someone poked the space between your shoulder blades behind you to get you to start walking. 

“Go.” Jungkook nodded to the hallway. You turned back to give him slight look for doing that but didn’t protest, walking back to your office. 

-

You stayed in your office the entire day. The boys all left and Yoongi had returned to his room so you decided to do some reading alone. The door opened and someone came in, making you look up. 

“Dinner?” Hoseok asked, a butler behind him with a tray. 

“Sure.” You closed the book you were reading and went to wash your hands. Hoseok sat down as the butler placed the tray down. 

“Leave us.” Hoseok waved him off. The butler bowed and left the office. You sat down and picked up your rice bowl in one hand with your chopsticks in another. Hoseok did the same. 

“Coming in.” Taehyung burst open, trudging in with heavy footsteps. He sat down on the patient bed with his own bowl in his hand. You watched him and finally noticed something. You stood up and headed over to him, placing your hand over his. Taehyung stopped chewing, eyes casting up to stare at your through his fringe. 

“What?” 

“Your hand.” You spoke softly. Taehyung put his bowl down, resting his chopsticks over as he let you grab his hand. You turned it over, showing the blisters on the palm. 

“Let me treat this?” You asked. Taehyung nodded and you grabbed your first aid kit. Squeezing some cream onto a q-tip, you dabbed it on his scabs.

“Oww...” He cringed. 

“Sorry.” You placed small band aids over the more open wounds, letting the others heal on their own with the air. 

“Keep your hands clean and you can remove the band aids tomorrow. Here, apply this too.” You handed him the tube of antiseptic cream. Taehyung held the small tube in his hands before slipping it into his pocket. He picked up his bowl to continue eating as you washed your hands. 

“You are definitely an observant one, doc.” Hoseok grinned as you sat back down to finish your dinner. 

“My job is to care for your health and wellbeing, I kinda have to be observant. If patients were always truthful with what was bothering them, a lot of people would be jobless now.” You laughed. 

“Right. Also, call me Hoseok. Just like you do with Jimin.” Hoseok said and you nodded. 

“Likewise.” You smiled. Taehyung didn’t say anything, jumping off the bed and heading out the door with his empty bowl in his hand. 

“Ignore him. We’ve all had a long day. Hence the informal dinner.” Hoseok explained. You nodded your head. You weren’t really bothered by Taehyung’s attitude. Like you’ve mentioned when you came, you’re here as an employee to the family. What their mannerisms were or how they felt about you didn’t really affect you, as long as it doesn’t interfere with your work. 

“What are you reading now?” Hoseok changed the subject. 

“It’s reading to study, actually. I’m hoping to learn new physiotherapy techniques or osteopathy.” You explained. 

“Wow, I’ll leave you to that then. Goodnight, (y/n).” Hoseok stood up, carrying the tray of empty dishes. 

“Goodnight, Hoseok.” You smiled. He smiled at you and left the room. You stretched your arms up, turning off your computer and packed up your things. The door opened and Yoongi stood there. 

“I need medicine.” He mumbled. 

“Hmm, I’m guess that you have finished the medication the doctor gave you after the surgery?” You asked as you went to your medicine cabinet. Yoongi let out a grunt in reply as you looked through and found a mildly sedating painkiller for him to take. 

“Here. It’s not as strong as the one the doctor gave but it’ll still make you a little sleepy.” You handed him the little dish with the pill and went to pour him a glass of water from the jug you had. 

“Anything else?” You asked him. Yoongi shook his head and stood up, leaving the office.

“Goodnight, Yoongi sshi!” You called out with him with a smile on your face. Gathering the rest of the things, you turned off the lights and headed out. 

“Hey, doc.” As soon as you walked out, you saw Namjoon standing there, a bottle of beer in his hand. He looked tired but forced a smile. You bowed your head slightly and gave a small wave.

“I should apologise for earlier. I’m not usually that... reckless.” He rubbed the back of his neck. 

“No worries, Namjoon sshi.” You shrugged. 

“I hope I didn’t scare you.” 

“It’s going to take quite a bit to scare me, unfortunately. So I wouldn’t sweat it.” You chuckled. Namjoon finally gave a genuine smile, laughing along with you as he nodded. You saluted to him and headed back to the direction of your room. You took a nice shower and called your mother to speak to her for a while, as well as seek some advice over some health concepts with her. 

“Are you sure you’re safe?” 

“Don’t worry, omma. I’m fine.” You sighed as you sat on your bed. 

“Alright, you’re old enough to make your own decisions. Goodnight, dear. I’ll speak to you soon.” 

“Likewise.” You replied and hung up. Standing up, you went to the window to draw the curtains before you went to bed. You saw Jungkook pacing around the gazebo, talking to Jimin who seemed disinterested as he laid on the bench like the night before. 

You hadn’t realised that they saw you staring as both stopped, meeting eyes with you. Jungkook just blinked while Jimin smirked, waving at you. 

“Goodnight.” You scoffed, even though you knew they couldn’t hear you, and closed the curtains. 

“It’s only day 1.” You massaged your temples, falling back down onto the bed. These boys were definitely going to be different from all the other families that you have worked with before. 

~~

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[polaroid15]

Febuwhump day 26 - Recovery

Summary: Healing takes time. And that’s okay. 

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29138196/chapters/73102269

----

It’s been twelve days.

Twelve excruciating days.

After all this time, Tony’s still not sure of much. He doesn’t know who took them, or where they are. All he knows is that they want answers to questions he can’t give and that Peter is suffering for it.

They bring the kid back three hours after they take him. Two armed guards drag Peter’s limp form in by the armpits and Tony screams and jerks himself against the chains pinning him to the wall in his desperation to reach him. Through his fear and pain, however, he feels a slight release in his chest. An ease, a peace, because again, for today, Peter is still alive.

“Have you changed your mind?” one of the guards asks. His voice is deep and mechanical, his identity concealed by a thick metal mask.

And it kills him. He’s seconds from breaking.

He wants it to be over.

For Peter to be safe.

But if he tells them what they want to know, thousands of people will die.

“No.” It’s nearly impossible to verbalize.

“Very well.”

And they leave.

Peter is still where he lays on the floor, face down and bleeding. Tony bites back a sob as he takes in the kid’s worsening state. He’s thinner than he had been, his metabolism no match for the scarcity of their food and covered from head to toe in lacerations. There’s thick bruising on his wrists and ankles, on his neck. Electric burns on his arms and dozens of injuries that Tony can’t see through the kid’s clothes but knows nonetheless that are there.

“P-Peter. Bud. Can you hear me?”

His fearful voice carries, splinters, and is met with silence. He pulls harder against the chains holding him in place, wanting nothing more than to reach Peter’s side. “Peter. Wake up kiddo. Let me know that you’re okay.”

Peter shifts, groans, sobs. It’s hard to see through the darkness of their cell but when Peter’s eyes open they’re distant and confused, and Tony knows that they drugged him again.

To keep the brat docile, they had told him on the first day after Peter had fought against them. He’ll learn his lesson soon enough.

“That’s- that’s it bud. Good. Come back to me.”

Peter sucks in a breath, tries to move and struggles. Every inch brings a fresh wave of pain. Tony watches him with a broken heart, turning his hands into fists against their restraints. “C’mere bud.”

Finally, Peter looks up at him. It takes him nearly thirty seconds to cement the eye contact and ten more to recognize who Tony is. When it clicks the boy gives him a broken half smile, shoulders relaxing. “T’ny.”

“You gotta come to me kiddo. I can’t come to you, okay?”

“M’kay.” The boy crawls forward, whimpering low in his throat but eventually making it to Tony’s side. With the little slack the chains provide Tony is able to pull Peter against his body, hugging his frail frame against his chest. If it hurts, Peter doesn’t say, and opts to relax more fully against Tony’s side.

“I’m sorry,” Tony whispers into Peter’s hair. The kid mumbles something unintelligible in response, eyes closing as the drugs persist in his system. Tony shudders against the hot flush of a fever on the kid’s skin, of the ribs he can feel through his shirt.

He’s losing him.

They’re running out of time.

It’s a desperate, hopeless feeling.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, voice cracking.

Then, he prays.

----

Two days later and Tony sees sunlight. He jerks awake at loud, jarring noise. There’s a gaping hole in their prison, spilling in fresh air and blue sky. Tony winces at the bright light, feeling dizzy at the sudden development. He curls around Peter who is once again tucked into his chest, shivering and mumbling in his sleep in an attempt to shield him from the dust and debris.

At the mouth of the hole appears Rhodey and Steve.

He hopes he isn’t dreaming.

They run towards him, mouthing things he can’t understand.

Peter doesn’t stir.

“Help him,” he murmurs.

Then he falls back into darkness.

----

Tony wakes up confused and alone, hooked up to beeping machines and blinded by sterile white walls.

He tries to sit up, is stopped by Rhodey, searches the man’s eyes and fails to curb his mounting panic.

“Where’s Peter? Where is- Where is he?”

They clasp hands. Rhodey tells him that Peter is fine, that he’s in surgery, that they’ll bring him to Tony as soon as they're finished.

It’s not enough. Tony needs to see him now.

He doesn’t stop fighting until something cool enters his bloodstream and he falls back against the pillows, the room darkening at its edges.

Rhodey never lets go.

----

The next time awareness comes back to him, the first thing Tony sees is Peter.

Alive, safe, Peter.

The kid is lying on a bed identical to his own across the room. He’s small and pale against the sheets, wrapped in casts and bandages and monitored by every machine you could think of. His eyes are closed but his chest is rising and falling in a comforting, even pattern.

“Peter?”

Of course, Peter remains asleep. It brings back dark memories of their time in captivity and Tony is suddenly overcome with the need to be by the boy’s side, to make sure he’s really okay. That this isn’t just all in his head.

Ignoring the way his own machines beep in protest, Tony clumsily detaches himself from them, and then, from his bed all together. His legs are weak but support him, his goal overpowering his body’s weakness. He reaches the edge of Peter’s bed in a couple steps and collapses against it, shaky and weak.

“Peter?”

The monitors pick up, and seconds later, dark brown eyes are blinking up at him. “Tony?” he slurs.

“Oh thank god.”

Before he can think it through, he’s hugging the kid. Peter completes the embrace, his limbs weak but sure.

They’re both crying.

“You’re okay,” Tony says, perhaps more for his own reassurance, and he hears Peter laugh wetly in his ear.

“You are too.”

He isn’t sure how long they stay like that. Only that after a while, Peter sags against Tony’s side. Noticing, Tony shifts himself out of their hug. “Move over,” he instructs.

Slowly, Peter does, and Tony fits himself in the available space. Peter latches onto him. “I was scared we’d never get out of there,” he whispers, so faintly that Tony barely catches it.

“We did though,” Tony tries to comfort. “Rhodey and Steve saved the day.”

“I thought I was going to die.”

Tony is silent, his head spinning. Eventually he manages to choke out, “I’m so sorry, Pete. This is all my fault.”

This gives Peter more strength. He lifts himself up on his elbow, then looks dizzy for doing so. “What?” he says. “No it’s not-”

“I wouldn’t tell them what they wanted.”

“Obviously. We know what would’ve happened if you did.”

“You got hurt because of it.”

“You got hurt too.”

Tony sighs and closes his eyes when they sting. He feels Peter collapse back against the mattress beside him.

“We’re out,” Peter continues sleepily. “That’s all that matters.”

And Tony is too weak to argue.

----

Three days later and Tony is free to roam as he pleases, his injuries no longer keeping him bedridden. Despite the freedom he doesn’t leave their room, staying in a chair beside Peter’s bed. The kid sleeps, mostly. He mumbles unconsciously and flinches at loud noises. He sweats and cries.

And Tony is there for it all.

----

“I’m so bored,” Peter grumbles, arms crossed and pouting. “I hate staying in bed all day.”

“Remember when you almost died?” Tony says.

Peter sighs, rolling his head back against his pillow. He looks considerably better now, with colour in his cheeks and a majority of his minor wounds closed up. But he still has a cast on his leg, his arm in a sling, and twenty precarious stitches in his side.

“You’ll be out of bed soon enough,” Tony promises.

“Whatever you say.”

----

Ned and MJ visit. They play video games and board games and don’t leave until it’s dark. When they do, Tony returns. Peter is still against the bed, looking more alone than Tony has ever seen him.

“Are you okay?”

Peter jumps and swipes at his face. “Oh- Tony. Sorry. Yeah. Yeah I’m okay.”

And Tony is stupid enough to believe him.

----

“Help!”

Tony jackknifes awake, heart thundering in his chest. He scrambles in darkness for a moment before flicking on the lamp, finding Peter twisted up in his sheets, kicking and clawing and fighting.

“Damn it.”

He drops to his knees beside the bed, gently nudging the boy into wakefulness. It doesn’t take long before Peter’s eyes fly open, wide and deep with fear. He continues to fight and doesn’t stop until Tony forces his face to look at him.

“T-Tony?”

And all he can do it nod, his throat too tight to form words.

Peter stares at him like he’s far away. He chokes on his next breath.

“Peter?”

Peter shudders and raises a hand to clutch at his throat.

“What’s wrong buddy?”

But he already knows. Has seen it in himself for years.

“Can’t breathe,” Peter gasps.

Tony sits on the edge of Peter’s bed and rubs his back, barely able to keep his own panic at bay. He holds Peter’s hand over his chest and tells him to concentrate on the beats. Teaches him how to breathe.

And he does.

In reality that attack only lasts for a couple of minutes, but it seems to stretch like hours. When the worst of it passes Peter falls back into the pillows, exhausted, eyes fluttering. “Thanks,” he says. Then, “sorry.”

“Don’t apologize Pete. I should be the one saying sorry-”

“No,” Peter says. He pats Tony’s leg. “No sorrys. For either of us.”

And Tony would like to think it’s possible.

He stays awake long after Peter drifts off again.

----

Another two days, and Peter is discharged from medbay. He’s excited but lacking his usual spark. He spends the day with his friends and comes back exhausted. He sleeps on the coach and wakes up disoriented. They eat dinner, though Peter barely touches his food, and they spend the rest of the night in the lab.

“How was your first day as a free man?” Tony asks.

“Good.”

“What’d you do?”

“Went to the arcade with Ned and MJ.”

“Sounds nice.”

“Yeah. Yeah it was.”

The tinker in relative silence. He notices Peter grab at his arm periodically, as if to stop an ache.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Fine.”

“Well, I don’t really believe that, so how about telling me the truth?”

Peter throws down his tools. They clang against the table and Peter flinches back from the sound. Tony stands, worried, and Peter shrinks into himself.

“Peter-”

“Stop. Just stop, okay? I’m fine.”

He’s crying.

Tony takes one cautious step forward, then two. When Peter doesn’t say anything he closes the distance in its completion and wraps his arms around the boy’s shaking shoulders.

“Talk to me,” he says.

Peter sniffles, doesn’t push him away. “I’m sore and achy. I can’t sleep. I never feel like eating. I’m scared all the time-” he trails off, voice quieting. “I’m just so scared.”

He’s not sure if there’s words somewhere out in the universe that Peter needs to hear. If there are, it’s impossible to know them. He tightens the hug and rests his chin on the top of Peter’s head. “It’s okay to be scared. You’re allowed to be. You know that right?”

“I’m supposed to be strong. A superhero.”

“You are. You are, Peter.”

“But-”

“No buts,” Tony interjects. “Listen close, okay? Cause I don’t like to get all mushy gushy very often. You, Peter Parker, are a hero through and through. You’re the bravest, smartest, kindest kid I’ve ever met. You’ve gone through some tough stuff in your life. And you’ve always come out the otherside. This is no different, even if it feels like it right now. Okay?”

Peter clutches onto his arm like a lifeline.

“It’s okay to be scared, Pete. It means you're human like the rest of us.”

Peter nods vigorously against him. “Th-thank you.”

“I’m always here. Whatever you need.”

Forever and always.

----

It’s been a month and Peter is nearly back to his old self. He’s patrolling again, he finishes dinner and smiles and laughs when they clean up afterwards. Nightmares become less frequent. He aces his tests.

Tony reflects on this as he looks at the kid across the room. He’s scribbling away equations in a coil-bound notebook, eyebrows scrunched in concentration. A soft smile turns his mouth up, the warmth of pride leaking through his chest.

“Hey Pete?”

Peter looks up, his pencil drooping in his grip. “Yeah Tony?”

Don’t be like your father. Break the cycle.

“I’m proud of you, kid. Just wanted you to know that.”

Peter blushes. He averts his gaze, mouth open in lost words. “Oh. Uh, thanks Tony.”

“I mean it. You’ve come a long way.”

When Peter reconnects their eyes, Tony feels the depth of the boy’s understanding. He had seen it in the cell, in their shared hospital room.

“Thanks,” Peter repeats, and this time, he sounds sure. He smiles. It’s wide, genuine, reflecting his youth.

It looks like healing.

It is healing.

“Now get back to work.”

“Aye aye.”

Peter writes down more equations, then pauses. “Tony?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m proud of you too.”

The sentiment freezes the air in his chest. He hardly knows how to compartmentalize the emotion. It processes slow as molasses. Eventually, he matches Peter’s smile. “Thanks kiddo.”

Yep, it’s healing.

And they’re family, through and through.

[mishasminion360]

The Weight of Words You Can’t Take Back

Pairing: Javier Peña x Fem!Reader

Warning: Language

Notes: The third, potentially final installment (or is it?) of what started out as a Javier Peña x Reader one shot. Thank you for helping this story grow with all of your kindness, likes, and support.

You remember the deafening bang, a noise so loud that it shook the earth, followed by the sound of twisting metal and crumbling stone. Then there were screams. So many screams. Some of them your own.

But as suddenly as that cacophony began, it ended just as quickly, replaced with blissful, gentle silence. And silence is where you stayed. You bathed in it, built a home in it, became it. You were a guest in the quiet for an indiscernible amount of time, maybe a minute, maybe a year, but that’s all you were: a guest. And at some point the silence had decided that you’d overstayed your welcome.

The world began to return to life gradually as, to some level of your understanding, you did as well. Sound returned slowly, muffled and distorted at first, but progressively gained clarity. You could make out indistinct noises: rhythmic beeps, the gentle tap of soft soled shoes and the sharp clack of heels, the whoosh of air and mechanical humming.

Words were the next thing to reach you, but they came in fragments:

“....hemorrhaging....”

“Cerebral....internal....”

“....damage....comatose....”

“....wrong place, wrong time....”

“Will she....?”

“Surgery....success....”

“....right here.”

“Just a matter of time until....”

“Come back....”

“Vitals Stabilizing....”

“Please.....”

“Recovery will be difficult.”

“Wake up, baby.”

“Come back to me.”

“Please, come back to me. Please.”

“I’m here.”

After awhile your sluggish brain was able to put sentences together, connecting words like puzzle pieces. The only voice you couldn’t hear was your own, and as hard as you tried you couldn’t seem to convince your mouth to open up up and let your tongue do it’s job.

You were unable to speak at all until around the time your sense of feeling returned as well. And your first word was “ouch”.

Your throat was painfully dry, made of sandpaper. It hurt to breathe, but even more so when you didn’t. Your eyes felt as if they’d been glued shut and your eyelids were tricky to separate. When the curtain of your lashes finally parted, the world was cloaked in shadow. Thank God for that. In this instant you felt that to look into any source of light would be too great a task.

As your faculties returned cautiously, you began connecting new puzzles pieces: bomb, building, pain, nothing, and now hospital. You were in a hospital. And you were sore as hell.

Tubes were going into your nose, your wrist. One of your arms was entombed in a cast, and you could feel one of your legs beneath the bedsheets was as well. You felt battered and bruised and stitched back together; Frankenstein’s monster brought back from the dead.

But all of these injuries paled in comparison to the weight that had settled on your chest. It was crushing your lungs, smothering your heart, and splintering your ribs. And this weight was a person.

Even with your eyes still adjusting to the world around you, you recognized that head of thick black hair, now a little disheveled. His face was buried in the sheets that cocooned you, and he snored into them softly. One large, gentle hand was clasped firmly around your own; he clung to you as if you were a life preserver and he were a drowning man at sea.

It took you a few painful tries to squeeze his name out of your raw throat. “J-Javier...?”

He stirred a bit, turning toward the sound of your voice in his sleep.

“Javi?”

His eyes finally fluttered open, red rimmed and bloodshot, and went wide when he realized you were also awake.

“Oh, God. Baby?”

His voice was as raspy as your own. You may have been mistaken, but you were almost positive his hands were shaking as they reached up to delicately cup your face. He smiled then, and a rarer sight you’d never seen.

“You’re...heavy,” you wheezed. He looked to see that he had practically mounted you and immediately pulled back to alleviate the discomfort he’d caused.

“Let me...let me get the doctor,” he stammered. He stood to leave the room, but you grabbed at his wrist.

“No...stay.”

He didn’t argue, only resumed his seat at your side and attempted to find new ways to touch you that wouldn’t cause you more pain.

“You look like shit,” you said quirking the corners of your mouth up in a weak little smile that made your dry lips crack.

He huffed out a small breath that was supposed to be a laugh. “Right back at you.”

Javi carefully stroked stray strands of hair from your face as his eyes grew noticeably damp.

“Baby, you scared the hell out of me.” His voice shook.

“What happened?” You had to ask even though you weren’t sure you wanted to know.

Javier cleared his throat, the words obviously not coming easy to him.

“There was a...a car bomb. 220 pounds of TNT wiped out almost the entire shopping district. It’s nothing but a crater now. So many people...a lot of people...”

He couldn’t finish the sentence, couldn’t utter the last word, but you knew just the one he was thinking.

Died. A lot of people died.

“Fuck, it was right outside your apartment,” Javi growled, burying his face in his hands.

“Escobar?”

“Who else?”

“How long...how long have I been out?”

“Almost three weeks.”

His voice broke on the last word and his breath began escaping in short bursts as his chest heaved. You’d never seen him this scared. This broken.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he sobbed. “For good.”

You tried to sit up but couldn’t muster the strength, so instead you placed a hand on the back of his head and gently pulled him down to you.

“But you didn’t. I’m right here. A little worse for wear, but I’m here.”

Javi wrapped his arms around you, desperate to feel you. To know that he wasn’t just dreaming this.

“I’m sorry. I so sorry. If I had just told you sooner, this wouldn’t have happened,” he blabbered, weeping between the words. “If I had just told you right from the start, then you could have been with me. Safe with me.”

Your hand traced soothing circles on his back as he cried into your shoulder. Javier Peña was human after all. Who knew?

“Told me what Javier?”

He lifted his wet, puffy face so that his glistening eyes could gaze into yours.

“That I love you,” he whispered. “That I’m in love with you.”

You smiled through the pain. It couldn’t be helped.

“Javi, you don’t have to say that just because I said it. It’s okay.”

“I’m not just saying it!” he protested. Javi carefully pressed his forehead to yours and squeezed his eyes shut. “I mean it.”

You couldn’t tell if the tears you felt on your face were yours or his.

“I have loved you since the day we met. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way about anyone, and I was too scared to admit it. To you or myself.”

He pulled back, sniffing and wiping at his eyes. He wrapped your hand in both of his and kissed each one of your bruised, torn knuckles.

“When you told me you didn’t want to see me anymore, I realized that I was more afraid of losing you than loving you. And then...then this happened,” he spat, gesturing to your broken and battered body.

“This,” you interjected, “is not your fault.”

Injuries be damned, you pushed yourself up to a sitting position in bed and Javi helped you with a hand supporting your stiff back.

“I was scared, too, Javier. Scared of falling for you. Because love is a scary thing. Offering your heart, the most precious and personal part of yourself to someone is terrifying. Not knowing if you’ll get the same in return. Yes, you hesitated for awhile there, Javier, but hesitating doesn’t make you some unfeeling asshole...”

You brought your hands to the sides of his face and he mirrored the gesture.

“It makes you human, Javi. So very human.”

“Does this mean I get another chance?” he asked, his face soft but his eyes pleading.

“That depends,” you said, easing back into the bed and bringing him with you once again.

“On what?”

“Are you going to kiss me, or not?”

He wastes no time. Javi grins against your lips before deepening the kiss, filling it with every emotion that’s been overwhelming him for the past several days. And in that moment he vows to heal your pain with all the love he has to give.

@mamacitapascal @obsessivelysearching

[softsebnbuckystan]

Soul ties - Part 12 (Bucky Barnes au)

“Send your dreams where nobody hides

Give your tears to the tide”

Rushing to the compound felt surreal. Sam was driving as fast as he could as you were already thinking of the most efficient way to deal  with the situation. You were a doctor in biology and chemistry. Healing was a piece of cake for you. This shouldn't be any different.

"What injury did he suffer?" you asked, hiding the panic in your voice and leaving a crack in the car window to get some fresh air.

"Stab wound. It's pretty bad."

You scratched your forehead, doing your best not to give any thought to the pain Bucky was most likely going through.

"He was injected with the same serum as Steve, meaning he has the same healing process as him. One simple stab wound shouldn't be 'bad', so it has to be more than that."

Sam's grip on the stirring wheel tightened. He kept looking straight away, but he squeezed your hand once.

"Steve was freaked out. He might've overestimated the damage."

"Or underestimated. They might be super soldiers, Sam, but that doesn't make them invincible."

"I know."

"Sorry. I shouldn't be so dry. I'm just thinking. If..."

"We're almost there," he said, cutting you off. "I know the way you work, and I'm convinced you'll know what to do as soon as you see him."

The wind in your hair wasn't enough to calm you down and Sam had barely stopped the car when  you opened the door and ran to the compound. You were moving so fast your throat and lungs were burning, as you were not used to such physical exercises. You'd never been shaped for the field, nor had you ever wanted to be. You barged in the lab and put your hair up in a ponytail to keep it away from your face. Bucky was lying on a metal table :  you noticed he was pressing the side of his abdomen. Blood had stained his tight grey shirt. The blood on his face and shoulders, however, you concluded came from Steve carrying him. His eyes were open : good. After putting on sterilised gloves, you grabbed a pair of scissors and cut through his shirt. You hadn't even noticed Steve and Bruce's presence.

"Go, both of you," you told them as you assessed the wound, ignoring how Bucky's mouth was twisted with pain. "I've got this."

Bruce didn't need to be told twice : he trusted your skills with his life. It might have been Steve's case as well, but leaving his friend's side seemed harder for him to do.

"Steve, go. I won't be able to focus."

Your stern voice was what finally made him leave the room, closing the doors behind him. Bucky, still lying down, grabbed your wrist, staining the white gloves with red.

"It's bad, isn't it?" he asked.

"Nothing I can't fix," you assured him. You'd switched to working mode as soon as you'd seen him, but totally getting rid of your emotions wasn't the easiest thing to do.

"Your voice is shaking," he noted. "I.." – He let out a small grunt. – "Are you sure you're okay?"

You let out a sarcastic and nervous scoff. "Yeah, my voice is shaky but my hands are not. I'm the one who should ask if you're okay. Now shut up, unless I ask you something."

You didn't pay attention to his furrowed brows or confused look. The only thing you were looking for, while applying pressure to his wounds, was any particular sign of pain. He wasn't hiding it, unlike some of your teammates (Natasha came to your mind).

"It's deep," you explained. "Can you press this cloth for a second?"

He nodded and immediately got to it, allowing you to grab a scanner to see if any vital organs or blood canals had been severed. Locating the most damaged canal took you two seconds. You had no time for an anaesthesia ; you didn't have much doubt about Bucky's ability to bear pain. You used clamps to keep the wound open.

"This might itch," you said as you grabbed the electrocautery and applied it to the bleeding canal. You knew his face was contorted with pain, but you couldn't let your soft side win in those situations. Seeing people in pain was the hardest part of your job.

The rest of the surgery went on in silence, aside from Bucky's occasional grunt or sigh. Once you were done stitching the wound, you helped him sit up and bandaged the area. You wiped the sweat on your forehead with a towel, moving wet streaks of hair out of the way. Caring for this spectacular stab wound had taken around two hours, so you allowed yourself to drink some water before handing Bucky the bottle and tending to his other scratches. He probably didn't need this kind of medical assistance, but leaving him scathed was out of the picture.

"You need to hydrate yourself."

He took a long sip as you cleaned the multiple scratches he had on his right harm. His shoulder had taken the most of it, leading you to think he'd fallen from a higher place.

"What happened?" you finally asked. "I thought this was supposed to be an easy mission."

Now that you didn't need to focus as much and that the overall fear for Bucky's safety had passed, tears were threatening to come to your eyes.

"It was. Doesn't mean those guys weren't jerks."

"Bucky," – you carefully captured his chin between your fingers to make him look at you – "what happened?"

"Natasha got in harm's way. I knew she couldn't take it as good as me. It was the smart play."

"No, it was the bold, reckless way," you retorted. "You have no idea what Steve's call put me through. I thought..."

"Hey, I'm okay. Thanks to you," he whispered as he stroked your cheek. "I couldn't let them hurt someone who might've died. I knew I'd come out of this, that's why I did it."

You lowered your gaze and your eyes lingered on the numerous scars his naked torso displayed. You traced some of them with your fingers : on his collarbone, on his abdominal muscles, on his shoulders, and so on. You could tell there was a story behind each of these, and you assumed they were stories he would rather not talk about.

"I'm sorry you had to see those," he said. It was barely a whisper, so low you weren't sure you'd heard it right. "They're from my time with H.Y.D.R.A."

"Don't be sorry. Remember what you asked me about your arm?" – He nodded. – "This is no different. It's you, and that's all I care about."

You ran a hand through his hair : it'd been hardened by dried blood in some places. You closed your eyes and laid a kiss on his forehead before going to one of the cupboards to get him a lab coat. A warm sensation made its way to your stomach as you realised how easy it was being with him, how natural it seemed, how meant-to-be it felt, how...

"Wear this," you told him. "We need to do something about all this blood."

As if they'd been expecting you to come out, Steve, Nat and Sam jumped to their feet when you  opened the door. Bucky tried getting up on his own as well, but you grabbed his arm just as fast.

"You might be healing fast, Sergeant Barnes, but I'm not keeping you out of my sight just yet," you joked lightly.

Bucky was holding the coat closed over his chest, his other hand squeezing your back in gratitude.

"How are you, Buck?" Steve asked.

"Good, don't worry. 'T was just a scratch."

You gave him a grave look. "It was not a simple scratch," you corrected, "but he's fine. All I ask is that you rest for today. That should be enough, with your metabolism."

"Go rest, now, or you won't hear the end of it with this one," Sam said, gesturing in your direction.

"He's right," Natasha joined in. "She's secretly quite bossy."

You smiled to her. "I have to be! None of you listen to medical advice, so I have to be assertive. It's for your own good."

"And we love you for it," Steve added with a grin. "Now go put this guy to bed."

Bucky couldn't help but chuckle lightly, making him reach for his healing wound. It was obviously still hurting a little. You finally left the others and took him to your bathroom. Your bathtub was lower than the floor, which allowed you to sit on the edge as Bucky got in, after taking off his clothes, staying in his underwear. None of you spoke a word as you washed his hair and rubbed the remaining blood off of his skin. You ended up plunging your legs in the tub and let Bucky rest his head on your knees as you ran your fingers through his hair, silence embracing you both.

"Are you still hurting?" you asked.

"Only a little." He seized one of your hands and kissed your fingers. "Thank you," he added.

"Don't thank me, I'm doing what I vowed to do."

A smile made its way to Bucky's face as he sat up and turned around. "Do you wash every single of your patients' hair?"

You shook your head. "No. That's the unexpected, coffee-spilling, caring soulmate package."

He looked hesitant for the smallest second before extending his arms, waiting for a hug.

"You're soaked," were the only  words to come out of your mouth.

"Do you care? Your pants are already in the water, so..."

"Might as well," you said, finishing his sentence. You leaned on the bathtub's edge as your knees hit the bottom. Resting on your arms, you were only a few inches away from Bucky's face. You pressed your lips against his and closed your eyes, wondering what allowed it to feel so good. You didn't give a damn about your clothes anymore and they were bloody anyway, so you broke the kiss and laid in Bucky's arms, resting your head on his chest and your legs entangling. You'd made sure the water was warm enough and it still hadn't cooled off, thankfully.

"We probably shouldn't stay in here," you admitted. "We might just fall asleep and drown."

"Now that would be a shame," he agreed. "Just a few more minutes then. Please?"

You tilted your head up to look him in the eyes and smirked.

"I'll give you all the minutes you want, Buck."

--- Damn, I sure loved writing this part. I hope you liked it too! Part 13 will be the last one. :)

Tag list : @ginger-swag-rapunzel @joscelyn02 @bluemoon-icecream @writehistorynotthegrocerylist @lady-loki-ren @simplybombshell @lizajane3 @livingonkpop @kaitieskidmore1

[assassins-and-hidden-blades]

Apocalypse!AU -- Field Medicine

I 100% could write the events leading prior to this to satiate curiosity, but rn this is all my inspiration is giving me -- hope you like enjoy it! If you want more of this AU, pls let me know! 

Feedback is always appreciated!

Warnings: Violence, swearing, blood mention, field surgery

Tagging (if you wanna be tagged, lmk!): @marshmallow--3 // @yourlocalfrenchie // @rahdaleigh (idk why this isn’t tagging im so sorry) // @sofiewithat /// @iceboundstar // @mythandmagik // @britishhotassassin

Assassin’s Creed Mobile Masterlist

Red Dead Redemption 2 Mobile Masterlist

----------

“Get down!” 

You ducked for cover as a pipe bomb was thrown towards your group. 

Jacob, Connor, Altair, and you were hunting for supplies in a nearby town when you were ambushed by a group of hunters. They outnumbered you by about five to one. 

“Altair! What do we do?!” Jacob peeked over to fire a few aimed shots. 

You all looked over to the leader in question, who was catching his breath behind an old car. You could see the gears turning in his head before he came to a final conclusion. 

“Run.” Another pipe bomb went off. “Run!” 

He led the way to an abandoned shop building that could provide cover, Connor following closely behind with you and Jacob bringing up the rear. Feeling the bullies soar past your head, you ducked as Jacob tripped. You stopped to help him up. “Go!” He waved you off, shakily getting to his feet. 

You vaulted through what was once a window pane and ducked, Jacob clumsily following suit. He landed on his side with a groan. “Hey, are you okay?” You asked, pulling him back against the bricks. Once he settled, you could see his hand clutching his side. What made your heart palpitate was what he was covering. 

Blood.

“Shit! You’ve been shot!” You turned to Altair, who paused firing and stared. 

“What?!” 

“I’ll be fine.” Jacob rested his head back against the wall, taking deep breaths. 

“What are our options?” Connor asked, looking through his rucksack.

A flurry of gunshots flew above your heads. 

“Option 1: We leave him and escape ourselves.”

You scoffed at Altair’s suggestion. “Don’t even think about that.”

“I know! Look— we either try and make a run for it now or we split up and hide; one of us with Jacob while the other two pick them all off.”

You all exchanged glances. “That could work.” 

Jacob shifted and hissed. 

You wrapped his arm around your neck. “I’ll take him upstairs. Keep them off our backs and don’t get shot.”

The two nodded. Connor passed you a first aid kit and some alcohol. “You know what to do.” 

Smiling reassuringly, you motioned for them to get moving. The two of them ran across the street, drawing fire until they were safely across the street. The firing stopped. 

“They split up. Find them. Preferably in one piece, but I can settle for one.” The voice obviously belonged to the one in charge. “The girl. She’ll be the easiest.” 

You and Jacob exchanged glances. “Come on,” you whispered, half dragging him up the stairs. You entered the room at the end of the hall and locked the door behind you. Luckily, the windows were boarded up, so they didn’t see you go in. Unluckily, the windows were boarded up, so there was no escape without making noise. 

The room wasn’t big nor small; but it had a walk in wardrobe that was big enough for now. You set Jacob down gently, kneeling next to him by the side of the wound. Taking a breath, you took in his complexion; sweating, pale, panting. You looked down to see his hand almost drenched in the crimson liquid, which has been dripping a subtle trail after the two of you. “Shit!” You half whispered, taking out the first aid kit and alcohol. Pushing up his shirt, you offered a roll of bandages to his lips to bite down on. He accepted, albeit weakly. “This will hurt, but you have to stay quiet, okay?” He hummed a broken affirmation, grabbing your free arm, assumingly for moral support. “On three; one, two, three…” slowly, you poured the liquid over the wound. Pained gasps leaked through the bandages as his jaw clenched tightly, tension flooding down his neck.”I’m sorry!” You apologised as his grip on your arm tightened tenfold. Opening the first aid kit, you immediately went for gauze to pack the wound with.

“You have to take it out.” 

You turned to meet his eyes as he held the bandages in his other hand. “Please,” her continued. “I can feel it moving inside of me.”

“But I’m not a surgeon! I can bandage a wound but I’m nowhere near transplant surgery.”

“I’m not asking you for a transplant.” He pulled out some tweezers from the kit. “I’m asking you to remove a bullet.”

You sighed, reluctantly taking them. “I was shit at Operation, you know.”

“Now’s your chance to practice.” He balled up the bandages and bit down on them again, bracing himself for the intrusion of the tweezers. 

“Ah, fuck.” Slowly, you pressed them inside the wound, trying to ignore the hitched breaths beside you. Instead, you focused on touch, waiting to feel the contact with the metal ball waiting for you inside. It took a few moments, but finding it gave you the equivalent feeling of striking gold. “I got it. Holy shit, I got it.” As you pulled it free of Jacob’s flesh, you could see his muscles relax, along with a fresh flow of blood. Quickly, you packed it to try and stem the bleeding, evoking another gasp. “I’m so sorry.” 

He pulled out the bandages, chucking them back to the kit. “Had to be done.”

You turned your head back to the first aid kit, eyes wandering for a needle and sutures when you heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Jacob swallowed, ears picking up on the calculated thumps as well. “Please be the guys, please be the guys…”

“Check all the rooms. Don’t miss anything.”

“Shit!” 

Instead of stitches, you grabbed some surgical tape.”We’ll have to finish this later.” The words barely escaped as you spoke, practically mouthing them in an effort to stay quiet. You taped the gauze to his side, heart rate increasing as the sounds began to increase in volume; they were getting closer. 

You packed everything away and straddled Jacob to peer past the wall at the locked door, gun in hand. You cocked it ever so quietly, aiming it square in the centre. Jacob’s blood soaked hand took your chin gently, a complete juxtaposition to the image in front of you. “Hey,” he said. “We’ll come out of this just fine.”

You wanted to believe him. You really did. 

The door handle began to shake. “Fuck, I hope so.”

You’ve never been this scared in your entire life. 

Someone kicked at the door and you flinched. Hands shaking, you tried to steel yourself with a deep breath. Pulling the hammer down, you waited as a boot came down two, three, four times. The fifth time actually working took you off guard. Two figures stormed in, and you shot multiple times as they crossed the short distance. The gun was kicked out of your hand and you were thrown off of Jacob to the middle of the room. You blinked as your back hit the floor, hands coming up as a figure landed on you, a hand wrapping around your throat. A man of at least six feet with muscles as wide as your head had you pinned to the floor easily. Instinctively, your hands wrapped around his wrist. 

“Not so fast.” The other figure spoke, and a second later had thrown Jacob into view, a sharp quick to his injured side. He let out a pained noise, bringing a knee up to protect himself. “This one’s in bad shape; wonder if he’s worth it.” A gun was aimed at his head.

Your eyes widened.”No!” You tried to claw the man’s hand off of you. “Please don’t.”

He let out a laugh. “Oh, he’s worth it, alright.” Pulling handcuffs out of his back pocket, he threw a pair to his partner. He squeezed your neck tightly, attracting your hands. He quickly slapped a cuff onto one of your wrists. “Turn around.”

You glared defiantly.

“Turn around, or he dies.”

Your eyes flicked between your attacker and Jacob, who couldn’t put up much of a fight in his half lucid state; restraining him took almost no effort at all, and now he had a gun pointed at his brain. 

You gave in, not turning around but allowing him to move you into his desired position to bind your hands behind your back. He leaned into your ear. “When we get back, you’ll be worrying about more than a bullet wound.” 

He pulled you up harshly by the arms. Simultaneously, two gunshots went off. You lost your balance, falling onto your knees. Looking over the bed, you saw Connor and Altair aiming their guns. “Took you long enough!” All tension dissipated from your body, and you almost collapsed. Altair searched the body for the keys. 

“Jacob?” Connor’s voice sounded from behind you.

“Is he okay?” You had your back to him, but Altair kept you straight.

“Two seconds.” When you felt the cuffs fall off your wrists, you immediately went to Jacob. 

Connor had uncuffed him, but he was still unmoving. “Help me turn him over.” Once on his back, Jacob gasped. 

“Great timing,” he quipped sarcastically. 

“Alright, we get it.” Altair pushed Jacob’s shirt up to see the entire square of gauze a dark red.

“Did you stitch him?” He asked calmly, motioning for the first aid kit.

“We got a little preoccupied.” You couldn’t help but feel guilt over Jacob’s deteriorating condition. You passed him the kit from your bag. 

Altair took it and got to work, as if he’d done this a million times before. 

“What about the bullet?”

“I took it out.” 

Altair sighed. “That was meant to stay in, Jacob.”

At this point, all Jacob could do was smile; vague but smug.

“Altair, how do you know all this?”

He didn’t take his eyes off of Jacob as he spoke. “I used to be in the military.” Noticing Jacob had closed his eyes, he snapped his fingers next to his face. Swallowing, Jacob blinked. “Keep him awake, Connor.” He began to suture. “I-uh, a friend of mine died from an injury in the field. It was my fault. He bled out because I never learned how to stitch a fucking wound. I spent hours afterward learning how to deal with field injuries— I wouldn’t let anyone die on me again.”

He wiped the now closed wound with more gauze, and quirked his lips when he saw that no new blood appeared. He covered the wound with more gauze and taped it down to his skin. “And here I thought you hated me.” Jacob chuckled weakly, trying to sit up. 

“No.” Altair pressed his hand against his chest. Instead, he offered a flask of water. “Drink this.” 

Jacob didn’t question anything, doing what the expert told him. 

“We stay here until he recovers some strength. We won’t be able to carry him back to camp.”

“Are you sure it’s safe here? What if more of their group come and see the massacre?” 

“With any luck, they’ll assume that we’re long gone.”

“Okay.” You sat down, pulling Jacob’s head gently into your lap. “Time to get comfy.”

[stxrrywildflower]

mute

pairing - spencer reid x reader

summary - an injury causes you to go mute for awhile, spencer is there to help you

warnings - injuries, gruesome details, mentions of case

word count - ?

you could barely stand up. the unsubs rough hand clutching the back on your neck was the only thing keeping you on your feet.

while your physical injuries at the moment we’re super bad, you still had immense bruising all over your body. through your blurry vision, you managed to look at at year team, who all had their guns pointed at the unsub. this case was never supposed to be like this.

the team was called out to indianapolis for a series of murders of young women around the city. while investigating one of the victims house, you had been knocked unconscious and kidnapped before the team could even realize what had happened.

it was only a day or so you were gone but in that time, the unsub was barely around you. all you could do was sit in the chair you were tied to. however you had been hurt just enough so you weren’t strong enough to escape. when the unsub was cornered, he had held you by your neck with a knife pointed towards the team.

“you don’t have to do this man!” you heard morgan shout.

suddenly, the blade of the very sharp knife was placed against your neck. a stream blood began to flow from your neck to your chest, soaking your shirt a crimson color.

“it’s too late,” the unsub called back.

everything happened incredibly quickly. in one swift movement, the unsub slashed your throat, creating a deep cut. you knew you were due to bleed out in meer moments. as your body fell to the ground, three gunshots sounded. between the ringing in your ears and your slit throat, you were in immense pain.

muffled yelling was the only thing you could hear. the fuzzy figures of your team appeared over you. some form of a clothe was pressed tightly against your neck, helping the blood flow lessen but allowing you to breath at the same time.

your whole body jerked slightly. all you wanted to do was say something but you couldn’t. it only took a minute for the pain to become too much and your eyes fluttered shut.

paramedics rushed into the building just after you passed out. the team stepped back, watching the emt’s move your body onto a stretch while applying pressure to your wound.

spencer stood a small distance away from everything. his hands were shaking in front of him as blood coated up to his wrists. blood was under his fingernails too. it was your blood. morgan moved towards the genius as your body was loaded into the ambulance.

“come on kid, let’s get you cleaned up,” morgan spoke, wrapped his arm around spencer’s shoulder and leading him out.

the blood was soon scrubbed off of spencer’s skin, leaving a pool of red in the sink at the hospital. spencer, morgan, j.j., and hotch had all headed to the hospital while emily and rossi went to the police station. they needed to get some paperwork before they could visit. hotch was initially going to go with rossi but upon his rememberance that he was your emergency contact, just like with the rest of the team, he went with the others. you and spencer had discussed putting each other down but with the luck you both had, you went with hotch instead.

close to two hours later, a nurse appeared in the waiting room. suprisingly, there was no one else in the waiting room due to the size of the hospital and the time. so, the team was hopeful that it was news on you.

“family of agent y/n y/l/n,” the nurse called.

in an instant, the four team members were on their feet. “i’m her superior and emergency contact. this is her team, we’re practically family,” hotch spoke. the nurse raised a slight eyebrow at that but nonetheless, opened her file.

“first of all, y/n will be okay,” the nurse started resulting in a sigh of relief from the team, “to start, y/n has sustained serious bruising to various parts of her body. her ribs aren’t broken but they are bruised as well as swelling on her arms and legs. the obvious injury is her neck. her throat was slit very deeply. a lot of blood was lost during surgery but luckily the surgeons managed to repair the damage. however, the cut did reach her vocal chords, severely damaging them. the side effect is that y/n is now mute. it will take anywhere from eight or more months for them to fully heal and for her to be able to speak again.”

the tension in the room thickened. obviously, they were thankful that you were going to be okay but at the same time, you couldn’t speak. “are we able to see her?” spencer spoke up. the nurse pressed her lips together and shook her head. “i’m sorry but visiting hours are over and y/n is not expected to wake up for a little bit. you can all come back in the morning,” the nurse offered.

with that, hotch thanked the nurse and turned back to his team. “alright, i want everyone to head back to the hotel and get some sleep. i know we are all worried bout y/n but there’s nothing we can do. it’s been a long couple of days and we all need to rest,” hotch instructed.

j.j. and morgan both led spencer out of the hospital, followed by hotch. like their boss had said, there was nothing they could do.

____

your eyes shot open, darting around to take in your surroundings. sunlight was streaming into your hotel room, meaning it was most likely some time in the morning or afternoon. suddenly, you began choking, directly due to the tube down your throat.

two nurses rushed into your room. one gently took the tube out of your mouth while the other began to check your vitals. memories of your injury came rushing back to you. you opened your mouth to say something but a nurse quickly cut you off.

“don’t speak, a doctor will be in to talk to you about your injuries in a moment. for now, use this notepad to write down anything,” she spoke, handing you paper and a pen.

“what time is it?” you first wrote down. “it’s 8 in the morning. you’ve been out for two days,” the nurse responded. “my team?” you scribbled. “ah, they’ve been here both days. visitors aren’t allowed for another hour but i would place bets that they’ll be here.”

you leaned back into your hospital beds as the nurses exited. a few minutes later, a doctor entered your room holding a chart. she smiled softly at you before taking a seat. you looked at her with desperate eyes, wanting to know your injuries.

“agent y/n, are you okay with diving right in,” the doctor asked you. upon seeing your nod, she continued, “your ribs are bruised but other than that, your shoulders down is fine. you neck, however, is our primary concern. your vocal chords were injured from the cut. thankfully, in a few months, you should be able to speak properly again. until then, you will be unable to speak.”

you pressed your lips together and stared at the ceiling. “i have already talked to your team about learning sign language. i’m pretty sure the tall skinny one is already fluent. he’s been reading and practicing the entire time,” the doctor added. you smiled when she mentioned spencer.

“thank you,” you wrote down. the doctor nodded and exited your room.

an hour later, you heard commotion in the hallway outside your room. you could have sworn it sounded like emily and hotch arguing with a nurse. but you weren’t entirely sure. you then remembered the doctors words about visiting hours.

suddenly, one of the nurses popped in your room. “agent y/n, your team is here, shall i send them in?” he asked. you nodded, pretty much all you could do.

it only took a moment for your team to appear at your doorway. spencer was the first one in, making your way to your bedside and pulling you in a tight hug. from there, everyone else entered your room, taking seats around your bed. the attention was a little awkaward but you were still happy that they were here.

you tore off the piece of paper you had previously written on and handed it to j.j. to throw out. “how are you feeling?” rossi asked. it took you a moment to write down your answer. “fine, whatever they’re giving me is helping me with the pain. not being able to talk really sucks.”

upon seeing your answer, you were met with sympathetic looks. “well pretty boy here has managed to become fluent in sign language almost overnight. once you learn, he’ll be a great communicator,” morgan smiled.

“actually, i knew a bit of sign language before i just hadn’t practiced in awhile. just needed a bit of a refresher,” spencer responded, squeezing your hand softly.

“i’m sure he’ll be a great teacher,” you wrote.

____

the return to work was extremely difficult. it had been two weeks after you were released from the hospital. your injury was classified different than when hotch was stabbed, explaining the time difference.

you were mostly assigned to do anything other than field work. when you realized something about the case, it had become increasingly difficult to write down what you needed to say and get your point across effectively. however, you were back in the field a little bit over a week after you returned.

however, spencer had took the time to teach you sign language. it was a rocky start, but after two months, you were able to communicate effectively.

on cases, you now stuck by spencer’s side all the time. your hands moved incredibly quickly which spencer did his best to translate your movements. it was a lot better than writing but there were still roadblocks. if spencer wasn’t with you, communicating with the team was challenging.

five months after your injury, the team had suprised you. behind your back, they had all taken sign language classes, working towards learning enough that they would be able to understand what you were signing. you had initially found out when you had a break in one of the cases.

“the unsubs work around childcare, most likely a babysitter, only way they are close enough to the kids. plus, parents pay in cash which leaves no trail,” you signed.

“that’s a good point y/n, i’ll get garcia on it right away,” hotch had spoke.

your eyes widened. “you can understand me?” your hands moved so fast that you weren’t sure if they could fully process your movements. this time, emily nodded. “we’ve all been taking sign language classes. you can fully communicate with us now. no more sticking with reid only.” you frowned slightly at that.

“hey now, we know you love your boyfriend and all but i think the rest of us are pretty good too,” j.j. teased making you grin.

____

ten months later, after a suprise visit to the doctors, you attempted to talk for the first time.

it was a late night at spencer’s apartment. the two of you had just gotten into bed, exhausted after a long case. spencer turned so he was facing you, a smile on his face that you could only see in the lowlight.

“i love you,” you managed to choke out. your voice was scratchy and skipped certain letters due to the many months you had gone without speaking but it didn’t matter. the fact that you were speaking was a major accomplishment.

tears formed in your eyes as spencer broke out into a grin. despite you both lying down, he pulled you into a tight hug, kissing your temple.

“i’m so proud of you,” he whispered back. “i love you too,” spencer added, still smiling widely.

[midnight-lightning]

Of fanboys and soldiers

Summary: A mission goes horribly wrong and now Bucky’s life is in your hands

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warning: blood, mention of surgery, Angst, Fluff

"Look, who I found outside!" Natasha was walking into the kitchen, beside her a slightly nervous grinning Peter Parker, who's eyes strangely wandered off and on like he was searching for something. "Hello, Miss - erm Y/N," he stuttered, giving you a shy smile, then he seemed trying to find a position to stand in, not wanting to appear awkward- which he managed without real success. This boy was just adorable. You tried your best to hide your amusement behind a polite smile and rather pointed at the table you were sitting at, inviting him to join you. Maybe some company would be nice. "Want a pancake?" Peter's eyes brightened up for a second when he saw all the food in front of him, pancakes, fruits, yoghurts, fresh bread... everything that was needed to feed the stomachs of several avengers who lived in this - Tony's - house or at least all of them who were at home at this time. "Oh, no, no I probably shouldn't," he declined while he bashfully scratched the back of his head. "Kid, you're family. Now sit down and eat," you insisted and Peter - obviously touched by being called family - tentatively decided to join you at the breakfast table. Meanwhile Natasha- who had watched this scenario with obvious entertainment- pushed herself off the frame of the door and walked out. "Enjoy your meal, kids!" Kids? Excuse me? You leaned back in your seat to see her properly in the hallway before you shouted dryly, "We will! So sad you can't join us!" Poor Nat had to set out for a meeting together with Tony; it involved something about politics, Avengers something like that. Boring stuff. But the second she turned her head back to you, you flipped your chair straight again to avoid receiving any ... not very nice things. Or very hard things. And Nat could aim. Too good. On the other side of the table you noticed that Peter suddenly seemed more relaxed and less nervous now. He still hadn't touched any food, though. You squeezed your eyes in suspicion. "Peter Parker, are YOU nervous because of Natasha?" Poor boy didn't have to say anything, his shocked face and slightly reddened cheeks told everything. "Me? No, of course not! I mean... she's a little ... intimidating. You know what I mean? N-Not in a mean way but- sorry," he stuttered looking down on his plate. "Why are you laughing?" Immediately you stopped, not wanting to hurt his feelings or anything, nor to get blustered over by Tony afterwards for insulting his son. Besides you really didn't wanna see him uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, Kid. It's just - never mind." You watched him taking a big bite of his chocolate pancake and then humming in enjoyment. Speaking of Tony... "You know your Da- ugh Tony isn't here today, right?"

You made a face. It had already been so common within you Avengers that Tony and him were practically considered father and son that some slippers like that happened sometimes. Though you knew Tony had stopped bothering after a time, you didn't know how Peter would react to hear your inside nicknames for them. Whether he noticed or not he didn't show it, instead Peter lowered his third pancake and looked again kind of embarrassed. "I was - erm actually hoping I would see Bucky."

You lift a brow in surprise. "Bucky?" Have they ever even really met? But nonetheless he and Steve were on a mission in Canada right now and will not return in the next days. "Yeah, I feel like I need to apologize to him. You know for what happened at the airport." Oh. Yes. There they certainly did meet. Your heart swelled up at his statement and you realized there couldn't be any purer angel on earth than him. "Oh, Pete," you sighted. "You really do have a heart of gold, you know that? But I'm sure he never took offense at any of this,” you reassured him. "You see, he was rather shocked at how young you had been." "Wait, he has actually talked about me?" Peter seemed genuinely shocked about it, after literally being Tony's secret ace up his sleeve and kicking their asses all the way. He was seriously surprised people talked about him.

"Ohmygodthatssocool!" He chattered and you let out an amused laugh at his enthusiasm. We've found a fan boy!

If only Buck could hear this right now; See that there are so many people out there who cherished and admired him. People beside you and his best friends.

"Like the winter soldier! Or no, I shouldn't call him like that, he’s more like the white wolf! Bucky Barnes! I would literally-" "QUICK! WE NEED HELP!" Peter's speech was abruptly interrupted by loud voices coming from the entrance.

Alarmed you immediately stormed out of the kitchen, leaving knocked over chairs and dishes behind. You didn’t feel the need to be careful right now because it had been clearly Steve’s voice shouting for help, who shouldn’t have been here for another two days. Unless something had utterly gone wrong. The first thing you noticed, was the huge amount of blood covering up the ground on which Steve stood. The man himself looked like shit. Beaten up with bruises and even burns all over his body.

But leaned on his shoulder, was Bucky and he didn’t even look alive anymore.

Barely audible his name escaped your lips, while your heart stopped beating.

Within a second you were next to him, cupping his face in your hands only to wince at how cold the skin beneath your fingers felt.

Your eyes flickered over his pale skin, over his slightly turning blue lips and his eyes which twitched around the room, not focusing on anything. He was barely even conscious.

His face too was beaten up and burnt, a piece of his eyebrow was missing. But the worst was definitely the bullet wound in his abdomen that made him lose too much blood right now. It was everywhere.

Oh god all this blood.

You were losing your mind.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry

Y/N, calm down. You got this. He needs you.

This all happened within the few seconds you needed to get a grip on yourself.

With a pounding heart you took a deep breath while switching in your professional Doctor mode.

“What happened?” You asked Steve while you slipped to Bucky’s other side so the both of you could carry Bucky into the treatment room.

“We were already on our way back home, thinking we already got everything covered,” Steve started to explain, sounding out of breath. “When they literally appeared out of nowhere. God, everything went so fast then. They were so many. And suddenly they were shotguns and explosions everywhere. And Bucky, this idiot, felt the need to safe me from a bullet.”

Yes, that sounded like the Bucky you knew, always ready to sacrifice himself for people he cared for.

“The hospital was too far away, didn’t want to take the risk, so I brought him back here. I just didn’t know If he … if he would make it any longer.”

You nodded, taking the information in. “He will. He will, Steve.” You answered firmly, but you weren’t sure if you were convincing him or rather yourself.

Carefully the both of you placed Bucky on the treatment table and instantly you reached for the nearest towel you could find. You ripped open his shirt to have a better look at the bullet wound and enough room to apply pressure to ease the blood flow.

Bucky groaned out of pain, making you wince. “I’m so sorry, Buck, but I have to do this.”

Suddenly his hand grasped your wrist.

You froze.

“Y/N?” Barely even a whisper, but you still heard him. His eyelids flattered, struggling to stay awake.

A little relief washed over you face, hearing his voice. At least he had still the strength to talk.  

Softly you put his hand back on his chest. “Shh, save your strength, alright? I need you to hold on, love.”

When you looked up you noticed that Bruce had already arrived in the room, clearly shocked at the view. Still, once he got a picture out of the whole situation he went over to you and without a further question just took a new towel and kept applying pressure on Bucky’s wound instead.

That gave you the time you needed to gather every tool you will need for the small operation. Thereby you lifted your head to Steve and Peter who were watching the scenery with both fear and concern. While Steve looked a bit more stabled Peter turned alarmingly pale himself. He shouldn’t be seeing that right now.

“Steve? Are you in a stable condition right now? Or do you have a serious inju-“

The Captain immediately shook his head. “No, no I’m fine. Please, Bucky is more important in this moment.”

You nodded, your eyes flickering to Peter for a second. “Pete, I need you to leave this room. I don’t want you to witness this.”

The poor boy seemed to be in quite a shock but Steve put his arm around his shoulder and gave you a forced smile. “I’ve got this, Y/N.”

With a last, worried look to his best friend, he and Peter left the room, leaving you and Barnes alone.  

You moved the table with the tools next to where Bucky lay, reaching for the Anesthetic injection when you noticed the blood on your hands.

His blood.

It was everywhere.

His blood.

He was dying.

You could lose him.

His blood.

 Suddenly you felt warm hands covering your trembling fingers, startling you but bringing your mind back to earth. Bruce gave you a small smile but nodded sternly and internally you just wanted to slap yourself. Yes, he would die if you keep sitting here! You had done this over a thousand time, get a grip, Y/N!

But it just never had been Bucky’s life you needed to safe…

Bruce gave you a sympathetic but reassuring smile, before he gently took the syringe out of your hand. While he injected it to Bucky you took the time to prepare everything – yourself included - for what was coming.

“You got this?”

You nodded, not saying anything.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The next few hours you could easily call the worst of your life.

Bucky’s pulse had become even weaker, his vitals worse. His whole life was literally in your hands. You didn’t dare to imagine what would happen if his heart would just stop beating, you couldn’t because then you would start to lose your mind and then you would have a breakdown and then no one would be there to safe him.

So you gave your best in removing the bullet out of his body, stopping the bleeding, sewing the wound.

You and Bruce had done everything you could possibly do.

Now the wound was fully treated and bandaged. Bucky’s face was cleaned, the burns creamed.

You were exhausted and drained on a new level, but by god, you couldn’t let yourself sleep right now. You weren’t even able too.

Not when Bucky, your Bucky was lying here, barely having escaped death.

Bruce had gone to bed a couple of hours ago, of course only after he had helped to take Bucky over to his room. Thanks to the serum in Buck’s blood, which ensured that he didn’t need any infusions, he could lay vacantly and comfortable in his bed.  

You sat next to him on a chair, watching his peacefully resting face. Fondly you brushed some hair out of his face.

HE had finally gained a little more colour and even his heart rate was normal again, giving you hope that he’ll finally be awake soon.

“Please, come back to me,” you whispered while you gently brought his hand up to you lips, putting a soft kiss on it.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

You must have felt asleep because the next thing you knew Steve was entering the room, a frown on his face.

“Bucky is stable now,” you murmured still half asleep, trying to hide the yawn that escaped you.

Steve chuckled. “Yes, I got it the other twenty times you’ve said that today, too. I’m more concerned for you, Y/N.”

“Me? But how are you feeling? I see Bruce had done a good job on your own injuries.”

“Don’t try to change the topic. You know what? You go and get some deserved sleep, while I watch over him, alright?”

“But if anything happens- “you protested.

“I’ll make sure to call you,” Steve promised, a soft smile on his lips, before he shooed you out of the room.

As soon as the door closed behind you, you knew you couldn’t go back to sleep. Not when he wasn’t in reach anymore.

So you paced around the rooms, cleaning anything that was in sight, just to keep your thoughts from the endless racing ‘what ifs’. Friday updated you with every small information or change or anything that concerned Bucky’s health.

When you entered the kitchen you were surprised to find Peter was still here, eating Tony’s inventories of his favourite cookies. This time it was you who joined him.

Apparently he couldn’t sleep either so the next few hours you let yourself get distracted by Peter’s entertaining stories and little jokes, until the end of Steve’s shift drew to a close.

Carefully, not wanting to make any loud noises you opened the door to Bucky’s and yours shared room, Peter who wanted to visit Bucky too, was right behind you.

The early morning sunshine shined through the window right on Bucky’s peaceful features. It made him look like an angel. Though it would be beautiful any other time, now it just made your heart clench.  

With a very exhausted face Steve stood up from the chair he was sitting at and ran his hand through his messy hair, while he still managed to give you a hopeful smile.

“How is he?” You asked him, while you slowly approached Bucky’s bed.

Steve cleared his throat. “His vitals are still fine. Bruce came a couple of hours ago to take a few tests. Everything looked good.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I thought you promised me…” You turned around to the Captain reproachfully and a little hurt but he just looked slightly guilty.

“Y/N, have you seen yourself? I wanted to let you sleep at least for a while.”

Peter, who noticed the uprising tension between you caused by the lack of sleep, immediately stepped in. “But when’s he gonna wake up?”

“I don’t know, Pete.” You shook your head, wrapping your arms around your chest.

“But- But it’s a when, right? Not an if?”

“Of course, Pete, I-“

“How long are you guys going to stand around my bed like a bunch of creepers?”

You whirled around. “Bucky...”

There he was… even though he just woke up he already had this amused glint in his blue eyes, watching you all.

With a racing heart you knelt down on the ground in front of where he lay. While you gently put a hand on his forehead to see if his fever vanished you tried to hold your tears back. “How are you feeling?”

Bucky used his hand to put it on top of your own before he grinned weakly. “Well, my eyebrow hurt.”

You chuckled and managed a teary laugh. “Oh? Just your eyebrow?”

Considering there was nearly nothing left of his right eyebrow…

You moved a little as Steve knelt down beside you, giving a little space. “You gave me quite a fright there, pal.” He stated, looking just as relived as you felt. “You know I’ve had everything under control.”

Bucky laughed at this, clearly not believing anything. “Yeah sure. I’ve hear this one over 70 years ago, too, you know.”

Suddenly his eyes locked on something behind you and it was a moment of realization lasting only a split second. When you turned around to see what had caught his attention you noticed Peter who had appeared in the door frame, looking a little bit embarrassed by all the eyes laying on him.

“Surprised to see you here, Spider kid,” Bucky said to which Peter’s eyes widened.

“You- you do really remember me?”

“How couldn’t I? Your attack was quite surprising at the airport. With those sticky ...” Bucky tried to  intimate peter’s movement, struggling for words.

“Nets. Spider nets,” Peter explained with an excited and proud grin. 

“You made them yourself?”

You looked over to Steve who had been watching their conversation in delight and the both of you shared an amused grin about the fan boy. You decided to give them turning friends a little space.

“You’ll be okay?” you mouthed and when Bucky gave you a reassuring nod you and Steve left the room for a while.

You went to the kitchen where you prepared some sandwiches and something to drink for everyone and put them on a tablet.

Steve sat down on a chair at the kitchen isle removing some leftover cookie crumbs. “Did Bruce finally go to bed?”

“Yes, fortunately. Though, I don’t think it will last any longer. He’s Bruce after all.” 

The whole night he had stayed awake taking care of all of you, bringing blankets, food, coffee, treating Bucky… He was a real hero.

“And you should go, too, you haven’t really slept in more than 30 hours,” he said in a stern tone.

“Take a sandwich, Steve.”

“And I know you weren’t sleeping during my shift!” He protested but took the sandwich nevertheless.

You held both your hands up in defense. “Alright, alright! You got me there. Let me just- “A pleading look to the door that lead to Bucky’s room and he understood.

“Yeah, yeah, sure go ahead but I’m watching you.”

With raised eyebrows but still smiling you made your way over to Bucky again, though not without shouting over your shoulder, “You’re not my Dad, Steve!”

You walk in on Peter and Bucky laughing about something; Peter still with a bright, joyful grin on his face. Delighted for this conversation with his hero.

With a smile on your lips you leant against the doorframe and watched the scenery. Bucky was obviously still weak and tired yet you could still see the amusement in his eyes. It meant a lot for him that this boy admired him. While there’s certainly a lot of respect from Peter’s side, there’s not a bit of fear, just honest curiosity.

As soon as Peter noticed you he said a quick goodbye to Bucky and wished him a good recovery, then he hurried out of the room, leaving the both of you alone.

Bucky meets your eyes and you just stopped, and of course you couldn’t help but admire the loving and tender expression in his beautiful blue eyes.

“Hey there,” you whispered softly.

“Hi, doll.”

Slowly you made your way to sit on the edge of his bed. “Peter’s an adorable kid, isn’t he?”

A small laugh escaped his lips and made your heart beat double.

“Indeed, he is. I like his spirit.”

A moment of silence occurred in which the both of you just looked at each other.

“You quite scared me there, Buck,” you then stated, not trusting you voice to speak any louder than a whisper.

“Yeah, I didn't expect to return to you this way, either.”

“How are you feeling?” You placed a hand on his right cheek. “And now please be honest.”

Bucky took a deep breath before he closed his eyes and put his own hand on top of yours. “I’m feeling way better than you think, doll. Don’t be concerned.”

You frowned in astonishment. He’s got nerves. “Don’t be concerned? Love, you’ve just been hit by a bullet. You have cuts and bruises and burns all over your body! How can I not be concerned? Why - why are you looking at me like that?”

He was looking at you in a way as if he didn’t hear a word you just said. Bucky just laid there, smiling, while he lifted a hand to your cheek and gently struck it.

“I’ve missed you.”

Bucky moved to sat up halfway and you just opened your mouth to protest to no move or the stitched will reopen, when he was already pulling you in to a soft kiss. Your eyes fluttered shut and as always your whole body and mind said good night.

“Your lips are so soft. I could kiss them all day,” he murmured in between your lips.

Then don’t stop, was all you wanted to say, but you realized his health was more important right now. So you removed yourself a little and wanted to look reproachfully but honestly you couldn’t help with this man. “You’re still looking rather pale, love, you should stay in bed for a while. I’ll bring you food.”

But the moment you let go of him he pulled you further down again so you were now leaning against his side.

Immediately you protested. “You’re injured, Buck. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m still fit enough for this,” he replied cheeky while laying his arm around you. Snuggling into him, always careful not to hurt him somehow, you were about to close your eyes and just enjoy this moment, when a chuckle made you rip them open again.

Peter stood in the door frame, a mischief grin on his face.

“Oh, and Mr. Bucky?

Your eyebrow looks lit, by he way!”

[eleanorbloom]

When You’re Ready Ch. 10

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f! MC (Eleanor Bloom) x Ethan Ramsey.

Word Count: 5.3k (Sorry!!!)

Warning: Innuendos at the beginning, then, just angst and a bit of cursing.

A/N: Yes, I’m sorry. Today’s chapter is the longest I’ve done so far, but it’s worth it (at least to me) because is about my babyyyy. Things are going to get harder from now on, so I’m excited for the upcoming chapters!! I hope you enjoy the angst because there’s more to come. Hehe.

A/N2: I’m gonna post some One Shots for Kinktober, so I was wondering if anyone wants to be tagged? It will be BrycexEleanor and DrakexMC from The Royal Romance. I’ve never published anything for TRR but I’m planning to write something in the future. Meanwhile, I’ll exercise with some smut muahaha. So let me know if you wanna be tagged 😏

Taglist @utterlyinevitable @binny1985 @shanzay44 @choicesficwriterscreations @laiba-the-person @starrystarrytrouble @lahellacute @lucy-268​ @aylamreads @cinnamonspongecake @romewritingshop @angela8756

_______

Chapter 10: Stay.

Funny you’re the broken one

But I’m the only one who needed saving.

 “Is that Raf?”—Eleanor raised her head from Bryce’s chest and stared at the ceiling, trying to prick up her ear.

At the distance, it was heard a deep voice in the middle of a mix of laughter.

“Yeah, that’s totally him.”

“What is he doing here so early?”

“Early?”—He chuckled—"It’s midday, babe.”

“Midday?!”—She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and checked. It was 12.10.—"And how we slept through all morning?”

“We stayed up late, don’t you remember? I think we got here like 3 am and then you just couldn’t shut up about how mad you were because Ramsey is being irrational about the influencer girl.”

“Oh, right. Drunken rant.”—Her cheeks blushed—“I’m sorry”

“Why are you sorry?”

“For making you hear all this crap when probably I ranted all night at Donahue’s about it.”

“Actually, you were just pissed off that Ramsey was mad at you, but when we got here you said the real stuff.”

“Like what?”

“Like you think that Ramsey is suspecting about your relationship with me and he’s taking it on you. He’s mad because you went behind his back with the Gwyneth thing, obviously, but he has contained his rage for weeks, and now he’s just… exploding.”

“Oh, fuck, you’re right, I did say that—She covered her face with both hands—"God, I’m so stupid.”

“Why? I think you’re right. He’s been acting like an ass with me this whole time too, he looks at me like I’m a piece of garbage or something.”

“But it’s really unprofessional that he is taking a work issue to an extreme just because he is what? Jealous? Mad that I’m getting over him? It’s very inconsistent of him.”

“Yes, it is. Are you going to do something about it?”

“Like what?”

“Like talk to him, tell him to stop,, that he shouldn’t take it on you at work just because he’s jealous.”

“I… I don’t know, I wouldn’t like to mix things, maybe I’m wrong.”

“You’re not wrong, Elle. You can’t let him be this ass with you, much less affect your work.”

Bryce saw how her head inside was spinning around, and her hands tensed over his rib cage.

“Just think about it.”—He added, stroking her hair comfortingly—"Don’t think for a second this is your fault, ‘cause it’s not. He made his choice in the first place.”

“I know…”

Eleanor leaned on her elbow to look at him in the eyes, smiling faintly at him.

“Thank you for being so understanding”

Bryce smiled back and then caressed her cheek while his eyes were expressing tenderness and protection.

She nuzzled into his soft chest losing herself into the sweet scent from his neck.

“Let’s focus on something less stressing and boring instead”—She whispered, lovingly.

“Like what?”—He asked tantalizingly roaming his hands through her back.

“Like the fact that I’m finally waking up with you.”

“Aw, you woke up really sugary today, uh?”

“Don’t you like it?”—She asked seriously.

“I have sweet tooth just because of you.”

“Awwww”—Eleanor encircled her arms around his neck pulling him down to her lips.—“You’re saying I’m sugary, but you just gave me a diabetic coma.”

“And I am having constipation ‘cause you, Eleanor Bloom, are being too cheesy.”

She burst out laughing, resonating in the whole apartment.

“Bryce! You’re impossible.”

“And you are impopsicle, babe.”—Before she could retort anything, he caught her lips into his, his hands travelling slowly down her bum. He deepened the kiss the moment she opened her mouth in a sigh.

“Do we have time for a quickie before getting ready for the concert?”

“Is it me or you’re doubting about your timing skills?”

“No, I’m just asking for consent.”

“We are wasting precious seconds, Dr. Lahela.”

Both chuckled before Eleanor pushed him against the bed and climbed on top of him, the sheets falling and pooling behind her, exposing her bare body.

“Sweet, sweet cowgirl ride me till the end of the world if you want”

Eleanor laughed hard again.

“Yeehaw!”—She joked between laughs.

This time it took like two minutes to make her stop. It would have been more if it weren’t for Bryce, who replaced her laughs for other more improper exclamations  that soon had to be hushed too.

By the time Bryce and Eleanor appeared in the living room, all their friends were ready for the Music Festival Eleanor had invited them, courtesy of her patient, Gwyneth Monroe. After a quick chat, they all headed to Cambridge, excited for the new adventure.

The group spent the afternoon eating, drinking, playing lawn games and, of course, enjoying the music. At some point, they split when Eleanor, Kyra, and Aurora decided to see an art exposition while Bryce, Elijah, and Jackie joined Sienna to see an indie band she had been fangirling all afternoon.

Once the group met again, an hour later, it didn’t take long for Bryce and Eleanor to get lost in the crowd, enjoying the music while savoring the moment alone in the open air.

The sun was about to set when Bryce felt his phone buzzing. As he pulled it out of his pocket the letters froze him. He ended the call and saw 10 missing calls and a lot of messages in the notification bar.

“Bryce, where are you?”

“I’m outside your apartment.”

“Bryce, please answer me! Are you at work?”

Eleanor stared at him worried, sensing his nervousness.

“Is everything alright?”

“I… I have to go.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Nothing, I just remembered tomorrow I have a really difficult surgery and I need to study up.”

“Okay.”—Her brows knitted, suspicious.

He kissed her quickly and turned to leave, but she caught his wrist before he could get lost in the crowd.

“Bryce!”

“What?”—He replied, trying to hide the fear that was invading him just right.

“If something wrong you can tell me, you know that, right?”

“Yeah.”

He smiled faintly and gave her one last kiss before walking out of the crowd.

He didn’t know how he reached the parking lot and got in the car, his hands were trembling and a knot of anxious had settled in his stomach. He pulled the phone out and called back.

“Bryce!”—He heard on the other end of the line—"God, I’ve been trying to reach you for hours, where are you?!”

“Keiki, what’s going on? How is that that you’re in Boston?”

“I’ll explain later, are you coming?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there in forty.”

“Hurry up, I’m bored to death here.”

When he got to his floor, she found a tall girl in a red leather jacket sitting against his door, a backpack between her legs. He barely recognized her, even if he had seen dozens of pictures of her on her social networks. She was a teenager now, not the little girl that said goodbye to him with tears in her eyes when he left for college.

“Keiki”

“Bryce”—She said getting up from the floor. He opened the door a few moments later and both got in.

“Can you explain to me now what you are doing here?”

“Hey, bro, I’m glad to see you too.”—She ironized—“Thanks for the kind welcoming.”

“Keiki, please.”

“I ran away from home, okay?”

“You what?”

“I don’t wanna live there anymore.”

“Keiki, you can’t do that”

“Why not? You did it.”

“I went for college…”—He replied, feeling the guilt sharpening inside him.

“Yes, and then you never came back because you couldn’t stand our parents. It’s the same with me.”

“That doesn’t excuse that you escaped from home and underage. Do you have a plan? Or you’ll just wait until they come here to take you back and maybe they will report me for child kidnap?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Bryce. They wouldn’t that.”

“Still this isn’t right, Keiki. It could’ve happened something to you on your way here.”

“Yeah, but it would have been worth it if it means not spend another second in Maui.”

Bryce looked at her, intrigued. He couldn’t understand how things were bad for her if she had everything she wanted back in Hawai. A room the size of his apartment, all the clothes she wanted, and millions of things to do. But that was enough? He knew well it wasn’t.

“Can I stay with you?”

“Of course, Keiki, but you’ll go back tomorrow. Call mom to know if she can buy you a ticket flight back, I’m not sure I have the money for that.”

“Don’t you understand? I’m not coming back there, Bryce. Period.”

He shook his head and sighed. It was impossible to reason with her, and he knew it wouldn’t get anything by pushing her even more.

“Call her to let her know you’re here, then.”

“I bet she already knows.”

She seated on the couch, looking at him defiantly. He just ignored her act.

“Have you eaten something?”

“Some Doritos I bought around the corner.”

“What do you want to eat? I’m calling a delivery.”

“You don’t cook? I want real food, Bryce.”

“I’m a surgeon, not a chef, Keiki”

“Either way, you should know how to feed yourself by now, how you have survived all these years?”

“Take out.”

“Unbelievable”

Bryce didn’t know what to do. Maybe he could just watch a video on Youtube and cook something basic to save the day. Eleanor’s face popped in his mind, but he shook off the idea as soon as it emerged. Calling her would implicate to tell her the truth about his family and he wasn’t ready for that.

“Okay.”—He said after some deliberation—"I’ll go to the grocery store, so you have food for breakfast tomorrow and all that. Do you wanna go with me?”

“Nah, I’m tired, I think I’m gonna lay down a bit.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be back in a bit.”

The moment he was out of the apartment, Bryce rubbed his hand across his face in exasperation. He didn’t know what to do, how to deal with his sister, and with the mistake he had been making all those years.

He always knew he shouldn’t have left her sister just like he did; never go back to Maui; call her just once in a while to finally only for her birthday. The guilt that has been accompanying him for ten years was materializing now in one of his worst fears: face his sister and deal with the consequences of his abandonment, the rage and the loneliness she might be feeling, all without prior notice.

He tried to clear his mind. At that moment he needed to stay calm to give Keiki the stability she had come to look for with him. He was the adult there, so he couldn’t let the feelings overwhelm him and make Keiki feel worse than she already was. 

Once he regained calmness, Bryce made his way to the grocery store where he collected all the ingredients for a spaghetti recipe he read on the internet, plus some vegetables, fruits, bread, butter, bacon, eggs, cookies, Doritos, so Keiki would have something to have breakfast and eat while she was at his place.

When the doors of the elevator opened again on his floor, she found the silhouette of a woman with a black and golden dress on, talking to Keiki. He froze for a moment until both directed to him.

“Elle”

“Hi Bryce”—She looked at him surprised, while Keiki just eyed them, leaning in the door frame, arms crossed.—“What’s happening?”

“Let’s get inside and talk, okay?”

Keiki moved backwars to let Bryce and Eleanor in. He went straight to the kitchen and set the bags over the counter meticulously, like trying to gain some time before facing her. After a few moments, Bryce turned to Eleanor.  

“Elle, this is my sister Keiki. She arrived today from Maui. She’s visiting.”

“Like hell. I told you I’m not planning to go back there, Bryce.”—She barked while she was flopping on the couch with the remote control in her hand.

“Hi Keiki, I’m Eleanor, nice to meet you”—She replied, giving a smile, even if she wasn’t looking at her.

“Yeah”—The girl just said, her eyes not moving from the TV.

Bryce just sighed, making evident his frustration. Eleanor looked at him worried and then pulled him to the kitchen.

“Can you explain to me now what’s happening? Why your sister ran away from home? Hell, I didn’t even know you had a sister, Bryce.”

Even if he wasn’t ready to talk about it, Bryce knew it wasn’t fair Eleanor didn’t know he had a sister, while she had talked about her family countless times.

“Elle, I…”—Now another fear was materializing: telling the truth about his family to someone from Boston. To the woman he loved, no less.—“To make a long story short, my family was a big deal in Hawaii. When I was in high school my dad went to jail for insider trading, and my mom only got off by testifying against him even though she was right there helping him the whole time.”

Eleanor gazed thoughtfully at him until she realized.

“Oh my god, Bryce… Your parents are The Lahelas? As in property tycoons turned white collars criminals The Lahelas?”

“That’s my family, and Keiki lives with them back in Hawaii. Dad got paroled a while ago for good behavior.”

Bryce saw as she remained in silence, surprise in her eyes. He couldn’t help but wince, waiting for the disappointed look, the disgust, the judgment. But nothing of it came. She instead tried to understand why Keiki was running away from home, what could have triggered that. She tried to convince him that this was not a simple rebellion as he was thinking. There was no judgment in her eyes or words. She just focused on Keiki and how to help him to deal with her.

Once Bryce felt less tense, he asked Eleanor to help him with dinner, which she accepted gladly. Half an hour later, the three of them enjoyed a plate of pasta that felt tastier as it was a result of collaborative work. 

Even if Keiki was hesitant to talk at first, the food put her in such a good mood that Eleanor got her to chat a bit with her, Bryce observing the exchange with admiration. From the answers, Eleanor could tell Keiki was a smart girl and mature for her age; she had a hot temper but the same self-assurance Bryce had, even the same smirks and looks.

“Thanks for dinner, Eleanor. .”—Keiki said before going to sleep.—"Good to know I won’t starve to death my first night here.”

“You’re welcome. It was nice to meet you, Keiki.”

She smiled at her and then got to the room.

Eleanor and Bryce stood in silence for a bit, none of then sure who had to speak first.

“Bryce, why you never told me? This is big.”—Eleanor finally said, standing in front of him, concerned.

“I know… I just…I was afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Of you judging me.”

“Judge you? How could I judge you, Bryce?”

“Because it has always been like this. People know me and it’s okay at first, but then, when they know that I’m the son of a criminal, they assure me it’s okay but they never look at me the same, never treat me the same. They look at me like I’m about to do something, or like I’m a professional liar and I’m trying to cheat on them.”

“Bryce..”—She whispered, cupping his cheeks, her eyes full of sadness.

“I wanted to start from scratch here, no one knowing about my parents, no one judging me for that, just focusing on what I am, on how hard I worked to be at Edenbrook and be known for that.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry this happened to you.”—She said as he took him in her arms, embracing him tightly.

They stayed in silence for a while.

“How could you ever think that I would judge you, that I would treat you like that? I would never, Bryce. Never.”

“I know but some part of me thought you would.”

“Now I understand why you always changed the topic when I asked you.”

He nodded.

“But now you know you can trust me, right? Whatever you need, I’ll have your back.”

“I know, but… it’s not that simple, Eleanor. Since high school, people have seen me as a disease the moment they know I’m a Lahela, so I’ve never had anyone to trust about what I felt or just tell…stuff… the stress, the sadness… the things friends share. I never needed anyone to deal with problems, I could do it on my own until… until I met you, but I’ve ignored the feeling because I don’t wanna hold on to you, I’m scared that you’ll go away and I’ll lose the one person I trusted.”

“Why would I go?”

“Because nothing’s settled between us. There’s still the possibility that you’ll go with Ramsey or simply break up with me because you don’t want me anymore.”

“Bryce, we’ve been together for two whole months, I’m not planning to go anywhere.”

“Yeah, that’s what you say now, but you still want our relationship to be a secret because you don’t want Ramsey to know and make it a reality, because some part of you don’t want it to be true.”

“How can you say that?”

“Don’t be hypocrite Eleanor, please. I’m not stupid.”—Bryce retorted, hurt. She had never seen him this serious and cold.

“It’s not like that. And I don’t get where you’re going with this.”

“My point is, Eleanor, that I want to trust you, I really do want to tell you what is happening inside my head, but I can’t if the one person I can trust maybe won’t be here with me in two months or in a year. It doesn’t work like that with me. I have to keep on my own as always.”

“Bryce, no matter what, I’ll always be here for you, even if things turn out different-”

“No, Eleanor”—He interrupted—“Please don’t do this. Don’t be this selfish, thinking that if we end up things, we could go back to what we were. If I hold on you, I don’t know how I’ll deal with losing you or be away from you while I heal.”

“Bryce… Don’t be afraid, sometimes you have to take a leap of faith…”

“Don’t you think I haven’t taken enough leaps, Eleanor? I showed my feelings for you, I told you I loved you even before we were dating. You’re the only person I’ve done that with, and yet there is always a possibility that you won’t feel the same ever. And what about you? Yeah, you took a leap when you started dating me, but you can’t take a leap in leaving Ramsey in the past, tell him the truth, scrub all over his face that you moved on, because your ego is terrified that you weren’t enough to heal him. So, don’t dare to tell me that I should take a leap.”

He turned around and sat on the couch, both hands over his hair.

Eleanor looked at him, seeing the real Bryce for the first time. The Bryce that feels in pain, angry, annoyed, frustrated. Vulnerable. Human. The side she had never seen in him and she always wanted to know.

She took a few steps towards him and squatted down to face him.

“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to push you —She murmured—”I just want you to know that I’m here for you if you need me, okay?”

“I know, but I don’t think I’m ready for this, Eleanor. This is too much, and I need to deal with this on my own, that’s how I know best.”

“I understand.—She said softly, while taking his hands on hers.

The moment he felt his touch, his eyes threatened with tears and a knot ached in his throat. He pulled away from her grip.

“I… uh… I need you to go, Eleanor. I want to be alone.”

“Of course”—She replied, standing up.  

Once she collected her things she went to the door.

“Whatever you decide, just remember that I want the best for you, Bryce. I know we are in a complicated situation right now, but I’m doing my best to end this hell soon.”

And she left.

Bryce stood unmoved on the couch recounting the events of the past hours as the tears streamed down his face.

His biggest fears had occurred, and now he was feeling the incessant need of trusting Eleanor, tell her all the pain that was buried in his heart, but he just couldn’t. Just like his issues about his parents,  he had been burying the thoughts about Eleanor not wanting to confront Ethan about their relationship. He knew she still loved him and couldn’t blame her for that, but it was hurting him more than he thought, and he had just ignored his feelings and not said anything to her because if he opened up to Eleanor, even for one single thing, it would be like to open the pandora box, and he wasn’t ready to let all go.

Things were difficult in the next days. Keiki was absolutely decided to stay with him, especially since his parents didn’t reach him or Keiki to make her come back to Maui, and he still didn’t know how to deal with Keiki, because at any try of conversation, they ended up fighting or she ignoring his tries to be friendly.

The frustration and guilty were getting bigger and bigger.

He didn’t speak to Eleanor, and barely spend time with the rest of his friends. He just locked in on himself, focusing on working hard, and go straight home to be with Keiki even if they didn’t say anything or just argued. She was alone all day so she needed some company, and he really wanted to understand her, bonding with her and be like they were before, o maybe not like before, but he wanted to be her brother again.

However, soon he realized that he had been too harsh with Eleanor. Even if she was still in love with Ethan and didn’t want to make it official, it was all within their agreement. And more importantly, she had always been very respectful of their relationship, because she had only eyes and time for Bryce, and even if she wasn’t ready to commit, to tell the truth to Ethan and stop loving him, she was all in the relationship with him. He was her priority, he sensed that. He knew it.  Because she had been refusing any contact with Ethan since he was back.  When Bryce assumed that Eleanor had kissed him the night she stayed at Donahue’s, the reality was different.  And Ethan’s behavior the past weeks was proof of that. So, he felt bad for reacting that way. She didn’t deserve it when she only wanted to help.

*

Bryce was walking by the fourth floor, expecting to find Eleanor there, when he heard heated voices inside an empty room.

“This anger you have against me is about something else and I won’t allow it, Ethan.”

“What do you mean by ‘something else’?”

“Not work-related. You have been an ass to me for weeks, and whatever might be your reason, you’re being unprofessional and you’re exactly what you wanted to avoid.”

Then, absolute silence.

If Bryce was right, Eleanor was confronting Ethan about his behavior in the past weeks. She didn’t address the problem openly, but it was clearly a step he thought she wouldn’t take so soon.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”—She said when she ran into him, not cathing it was him at first.—"Bryce? Hi”

“Eleanor”—They stared in silence for a moment—"I was looking for you. What time does your shift end?”

Bryce saw the brief moment Ethan passed behind Eleanor, his face impassive and cold as steel, ignoring their existence completely.

“Half an hour, I’m doing my final round. Why?”

“I need to speak to you, meet me in the atrium as always?”

“Okay, yeah.”—Her cheeks flushed and couldn’t help but look at him with hope.

“See ya later, then.”

He waited in their usual spot and finally, fifteen minutes later, she appeared.

“I’m so sorry, I had to run new tests for a patient, and it took me ages.”

“Don’t worry, I’m glad you’re here.”

“So…”

“Let’s go to my car, we can talk there.”

“Okay.

Once both got in the car, they looked at each other until Bryce broke the silence.

“Elle, I want to apologize. I realized I was too unfair with you the other day. I know you were trying to help and I just took it on you, because I was frustrated with the situation and I didn’t know how to deal with it, let alone with another person offering help.”

“It’s okay, Bryce, it’s me who should apologize. I shouldn’t have pushed you like that.”

“No, you were trying to help me, and I thank you for that. But I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that about Ramsey. You have been very respectful to our relationship, I want you to know that. I really appreciate it, babe. It’s just that sometimes this is… hard.”

“Bryce, listen, you were right, you don’t have to apologize for telling me the truth. I am afraid, and sadly I still have feelings for Ethan and I don’t want to hurt him, but I don’t want to hurt you either, so it’s all so complicated.”

“I know, Elle, I know, that’s why I shouldn’t have been so rude. By no means you have been unfair or mean to me. It’s just that this is getting a bit hard for me, that’s all, especially now that I’m dealing with something big in my life and I want to hold on to you… But I’m terrified to do so.”

Eleanor rested her hands over his. 

“Look, I know I can’t promise you we will be together forever, but I want you to know that our relationship it’s the most important thing to me now, and I’ll do whatever I can to take care of us. We are still in this difficult process until things are clear inside my head, but right now I want to be here for you, I want to help you with your sister and with whatever you need. Just say the word, okay?”

He smiled thankfully and then nodded.

“Truce?”—She said, offering her hand.

“Truce”—He agreed, but instead of taking her hand, he kissed her sweetly in the lips.

Eleanor giggled against him.

“God, I missed you so much.”—He sighed, parting from her just a brief moment, to keep kissing her for another couple of seconds.

“Me too. These days have been a real nightmare without you. How are you dealing with Keiki?”

“Not so well, actually. That’s why I wanted to ask you if you would like to go home with me tonight. I haven’t been able to talk with Keiki, and if you there with me, maybe I’ll understand her better. I don’t wanna fight with her anymore.”

Eleanor smiled warmly at him.

“This means that you’re letting me in?”

Bryce had made his decision but couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous.

“Yes. I want you with me in all this, Elle.”

“You won’t regret it. I promise.”

When they get home a delicious smell invaded their nostrils. Keiki was in the kitchen apparently frying some beef.

“Hey Keiki”—They both greeted.

“Hey. Eleanor, I didn’t know you were coming. I hope I’m doing enough food for the three of us.”

“We’ll make it work”—Bryce said, hopeful.

“If not, Bryce, you can call a delivery just as you like.”

“Haha, always so loving, sis. Whatcha doing?”

“Mongolian beef, I found an easy recipe on Instagram and here I am.”

“You need any help?”

“Umh, maybe with the rice, I have to chop the scallions and then have an eye on the beef.”

“Sure.”

They both washed their hands and then Eleanor taught Bryce how to cook rice while suggesting topics to talk. Some were delicate and Keiki reacted badly, but after every scowl Eleanor gave to Bryce, he tried to act more empathetic, listening to her before judging.

Once the dinner was served, the three seated with smiled on her faces.

“Keiki, this is great!”—Eleanor praised after giving the first taste to her plate.—“You had cooked before?”

“Yeah, a couple of times, but it’s not that I have the chance to do it often when you have people who cook for you”—She replied, a bit embarrassed.

“And what do you like to do? Reading? Singing? Playing an instrument? Skateboarding?”

“I like drawing, reading, and sometimes taking pictures.”

“That’s great. Boston has such beautiful places to do it.”

“Yeah, that’s true. I’ve took some really nice. ”

“You must show me them after dinner, okay?”

“Sure”

“ And what about your friends? You are not missing them now that you’re here?”

“Nah, I don’t have actual friends there, they all hate me.”

“Why they hate you?”—Bryce asked, brows furrowed.

That was the moment Bryce had been waiting since her sister got there, because with that question, Keiki let everything out. 

Bryce finally knew the motives that made her leave home and fly all over the Pacific Ocean and to the other side of the country to be with him, even if they hadn’t seen each other in ten years.

And it happened that her sister was living the same hell he lived. Her classmates hated her for what his parents did, and of course, they hadn’t done anything to protect her. They only cared about their reputation.

The mistake he kept making for ten years had led to this. Her sister suffering from loneliness, abandonment, bullying. Just like he did.

“Keiki I’m …. I’m sorry I didn’t call more. I should have been looking out for you.”—Bryce finally said.

“It’s not like you could have done anything from all the way over here.”

“I could, Keiki. I should have tried, I should have done better, I should have stood in front of mom and dad if you needed me to. And I didn’t. I let this happened. But I’m gonna do better, starting from today.”

Bryce got up from the chair and opened his arms, inviting her sister to do the same. After a few moments of staring at him, she finally stood up and threw herself into his arms.

“I’m sorry I was a jerk when I turned up. And like… every day since.”—She apologized, complete sincerity in her eyes.

“The only jerk here is me. You can stay with me for as long as you need, okay? We’ll figure it out.”

“Thanks, Bryce.”

“I’m sorry, Keiki. Truly.”

“Bryce, it’s okay. I’m happy that I can count on you.”

“Always.”

The three chatted on the couch until Eleanor started to feel sleepy. She and Bryce said goodnight to Keiki, who had given his bed back a couple days ago as she found out the couch really comfy and his brother needed proper rest more than her.  When they locked in the room, Bryce pulled Eleanor to his chest gently, resting his forehead into hers.

“Thank you for doing this.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“All the right questions, and all those scowls and deadly glares that meant ‘stop screwing it up, Bryce’ is doing nothing? Really?”

“Ah, well. It was minimal. You did the hard job here, you get your sister to talk, and you listened to her and empathized with her. You apologized. You were the support she was looking for. You did it amazing, Bryce. Not me.  I’m so proud of you.”

“This wouldn’t have been possible without you.”—He kissed her in the lips, giving her the sweetest smile she had even seen in him, it made her stomach flutter.

“Good things happen when you trust people, you see?”

“Only with you.”

“I know. And I won’t let you down.”

___

[dreamingofmilk]

Anesthesia

Synopsis: You've been assigned to give Thor a check up after his surgery. Who would have thought anesthesia would affect him this way?

Word Count: 1486

Warnings: mild smut

"Y/N you're needed in exam room 200."

You sighed, "There goes my break." You threw away what was left of your lunch and made your way to the second floor of the stark tower, the Avengers private hospital level. 

Once you got there you grabbed the patient chart. Your manager, Kelly, was waiting outside of the room. You raised an eyebrow, "What are we dealing with here?" 

"Patient underwent surgery successfully, but is still feeling the anesthesia. He just needs a routine check." You nodded and glanced through the chart, scanning over the name and a bit of the medical information before your eyes flew back to the name. Thor Odinson was in the hospital?! You were surprised paparazzi weren't busting the door down. 

"Thor?!" You whisper yelled. 

Kelly smirked. "Why do you think I called you? You're the only one I know who won't fangirl around him. The last thing the hospital needs is a sexual harassment charge."

Joke's on you Kelly! Y/N thought. You loved Thor the most of all the Avengers. His looks obviously, but his personality even more. He was goofy and kind, and loyal to a fault. You just didn’t let your interest in him show at work. Hospitals are breeding grounds for gossip, especially amongst the other nurses, so you tried your hardest to keep your name out of anyone's mouth. This would be a dream come true. You get to not only meet your favorite 'celebrity', you get to treat him. Kelly really came through clutch! 

You shook off as much of your nerves as you could. Fan or not, you were going to make sure Thor got the best care possible, from you or anyone else that crosses this threshold. Once you’d gotten your bearings, you knocked softly on the door. All you heard was a grunt, so you opened the door and quickly realized that all of the photos and Youtube videos you’d seen of Thor didn’t do him justice.

The man was absolutely massive! The hospital bed barely contained him. His feet hung off the edge and his arms hung from the sides of the bed. He seemed to be awake, but he wasn’t quite lucid. What drugs could they have possibly used that worked on a fucking god?

You cleared your throat and greeted him. “Hello Mr. Odinson. My name is Nurse Y/N, I’ll be giving you a check to make sure everything went well with the surgery. Is that ok?”

The only answer you received was a grunt, so you moved forward slowly and put on your gloves and equipment. 

“Ok Mr. Odinson, Can you sit up for me please?”

He righted himself before you could reach out to assist him. So he must be somewhat coherent, you thought to yourself. You grabbed your blood pressure cuff and did your best to wrap it around his massive arm. It just barely made it. “There we go. You’re going to feel a bit of pressure on your arm.” 

Thor chuckled, “Which one, the one between my legs? I already feel plenty of pressure there. You’re very pretty you know. Makes things kind of hard for me, shame on you.” His speech was slurred, but you understood every word he said. You couldn’t even stop your eyes from glancing at the area in question, and the bulge there was just as massive as the rest of his body. You shuddered at the thought. How the hell could anybody take that beast?

You didn’t respond to him out loud though. There’s no way you could have a casual conversation about his dick, or the fact that it was getting hard. You'd just pretend you didn't hear him. The blood pressure cuff creaked as it tightened around his arm, no doubt straining to stay intact. You double checked that the velcro was secure and carried on with your examination.

"Blood pressure looks good. Now I need to check your heartbeat."

Thor nodded slightly. And sat up a bit straighter. You moved it to his chest, the sensor looked like a toy compared to his broad chest. His heartbeat started at a normal pace, but it gradually sped up. You were worried something was amiss until he spoke. 

Thor groaned quietly. "You smell so good." He reached out and wrapped his hand around your wrist. Suddenly his face was buried in your neck. It took everything in you not to let out the nastiest moan you had within you. You pulled back slowly as Thor moved his large arms to wrap around your waist. His eyes were glazed, but there was much more awareness there than you thought. 

"Mr. Odinson, I need you to calm down so I can get an accurate heart rate." You gulped. 

His eyes dropped from yours to your lips. You felt your body clench when he bit his bottom lip and slowly brought his eyes back to yours. No one should be able to put that much sex appeal into a look while doped up on anesthesia. This man was dangerous. 

He smiled, "How is any man supposed to be calm around you? I'm sure humans fall at your feet." 

"Definitely not happening." You looked away in embarrassment, a humorless laugh fell from your lips. 

He scoffed, "Then they are weak or stupid. I am neither. I know beauty when I see it."

You were taken aback. You knew you were attractive, but you didn't consider yourself especially beautiful. And the way he said it, so casually, like it was an accepted fact, just made it that much better. 

You couldn't look at his face, you were too flustered, but Thor wasn't having it. He lightly grabbed your chin and pulled your face up until your eyes met. His eyes were so piercing, it felt like they were slicing you open and looking at your bare soul. 

Without breaking eye contact, he leaned forward. There was only an inch of space between you and you could pick out all of the little details in his face. The flecks of green in his eyes, how unfairly long his eyelashes were, how soft his lips looked. 

He grinned, like he knew exactly where your focus was, "Y/N, when I get you alone…" He paused and let out a soft groan while shifting slightly, still quite unbalanced from the anesthesia. "We'll be so good together. I'll make you feel so good. Thunder doesn't only cause pain, sweetheart."

You couldn't fight the shiver that ran through your entire body. Thor was lowkey kinky! You were definitely trying to find out just how deep that kinkiness ran, but you had a job to do. "My only concern is your health Mr. Odinson." There we go, a safe answer.

Thor scoffed, "You forget I'm a god. I can smell you, Y/N. My health isn't your only concern. Don't worry though. As soon as I sleep this off, I'll take care of your other concern. You'll have to keep that uniform on, I quite like it." He grips your scrub clad ass tightly and thoroughly. You let out a soft whimper in response to his groping. 

He groaned as his hands squeezed your ass cheeks, "Have you ever felt every nerve ending in your body go off all at once?"

You moaned from his rough treatment, "No, that's not medically possible."

He tsked and pulled you closer. His hand moved down slightly and his middle finger brushed against your core and he sent a shock that started at your clit and radiated through your entire body. You could feel your toes curl and your scalp tingle. You quickly reached out and grabbed his biceps as your knees gave out. Thank god these rooms were soundproofed. The moan you let out was definitely loud enough to be heard through the hallway.

Your eyes flitted up to his, "What the hell was that?!"

He licked his lips and smiled. You felt your panties dampen. “You'll find out soon. The doctor says I should be released later today once the sedative has worn off. I'll take care of us then.”

Thor presses a soft kiss on your lips, so fleeting you thought you imagined it, until you felt a sharp stimulating zing on your lips. You gasped and pulled back looking at Thor in shock, the lightning blue in his eyes slowly dissipating with a huge smirk on his lips. 

A minute later he was sleeping, snoring without a care in the world. Like he didn't just promise to blow your back out. 

What the hell did you get yourself into?

You weren’t sure, but you made a mental note to ask Kelly for a day off tomorrow. You looked back at the large mass of god in the bed and bit your bottom lip, your body still tingling with remnants of thel electric shocks.  

Better make it two days. 

Taglist:

@aislinnsilver @wawakanda-btch @chaneajoyyy @marvelmaree

[fiction-in-my-blood]

Switching Sides: Part 2 (HLITF)

Aaaannndddd once again I would LOVE to thank my girl @theshove for being my editor in chief and making my writing reach a HIGHER level I could never reach without your help. Thank you so much for making sense of my poorly grammar-ed sentences haha. 

Also, if anyone possibly wants to get on a tag list I’d be happy to make one 

👉👈

If you wanna catch up, Part 1 is right here! Happy reading :)

Premise: Growing up in a life of crime in a Japanese mafia, Atsuko Motomori has seen enough injustice to last her a lifetime. To try and give back to the universe her family has taken so much from, she dreams of being a detective from a young age. Her twin, sharing her disgust for her father and many uncles, just wants an ordinary life away from the crime, paing and suffering. Instead, she wants to be in the spotlight with the soft notes she makes with her cello. In their escape of 2015, on their coming of age birthday, they must split ways, never to be together ever again. If one was found, they didn’t want the other dragged down with them. Atsuko, having changed her name and appearance as best she can without a scalpel, sets off to start her life of car chases and arrests.

Four years in a seemingly dead-end police station in the middle of nowhere, being passed over time after time for promotion, Atsuko finally gets a shot at her dream, having been sent to an academy for the best candidates in the country by her boss who had always kept an eye out for her. After discovering her boss may have made her bite off more than she could chew, Atsuko must become the slave of a dominating instructor!? Who so just happens to be the captain of the most famous police unit in Japan? Not to mention a total knockout! Will Atsuko finally achieve her dream? Or will her new instructor put her through the wringer?

Warnings: Language, reference to sexual activity/forceful nature.

~~~~~~

‘A servant? Did he confuse that with a full-time aid?’ I tried to reason with his wording of my job title. As the room was lit by the setting sun and filters out into the corridor, I stood there in silence, thinking about what I'd just gotten myself into.

"Motomori, who will you partner with?" Ishigami closed the book of names and held it under his arm, keeping a close eye on how I was reacting. Letting my eyes meet each one of the detectives' before me, I took in a deep breath to calm my nerves. 

"Instructor Kaga, please," I announced. Although he seemed the most stern out of all the men, I took that as a sign of someone worn away by his experience. Which only meant there was more to learn from him. Right?

The announcement of my choice of instructor led Shinonome to laugh at my bravado. "Now that's something. Choosing Hyogo is pretty fitting for our little overachiever." The youngest instructor couldn't help but sound amused as the man I had chosen showed a concerned expression. As he looked me up and down, I stood with more confidence than I really had. 

After the Captain's silent review of me, Ishigami progressed through the other pairings. I glanced at Kaga and saw him taking a phone call. "Yeah... I'll take care of it." With his back turned to me, I only heard a minuscule amount of the conversation. 

"Kaga, you'll be going after this person." When the other Captain tried to hand over a folder, which I was sure had the case we should be working on inside, Kaga continued his conversation while pointing in my direction. He told Ishigami to give me the folder holding the information we'd need for the undercover assignment. 

"These are documents for the instructor." Ishigami frowned, obviously tired of Kaga's dismissiveness. Kaga begrudgingly took the folder before thrusting it into my chest. 

"Read it." He demanded and then finished his phone call. 

"I'm sure you understand, but-" Ishigami was cut off by Kaga crossing his arms. 

"I understand perfectly well." His mood seemed to worsen as the two talked. They continued to bicker as the rest of the instructors watched. I'm sure it was difficult to butt in on the Captains' discussions. 

"Squad leaders should get along..." Shinonome frowned as we watched, me not knowing what else to do except just stand there. 

"These two will go as far as a fistfight." Instructor Soma's comment made me worry that all the expensive equipment in this room would be damaged if someone didn't intervene soon enough. When Soma directed a question to Goto to see if he agreed, the messy-haired man just stood there in silence. 

"I can hear all of you." Kaga scowled as he took a cigarette out of his suit pocket. I knew smoking wasn't allowed in the building, having seen the signs next to most of the doorways, however I decided it best not to make him aware. ‘I mean, he has worked here longer than me.’

‘He is the freaking instructor, Atsuko.’ The voice in my head made me want to metaphorically face-palm. It was clear just by the way the instructor stood he didn’t care much for rules or regulations. 

"Don't get in my way." As he walked towards the door, Kaga made what sounded like a threat to me. 

"Didn't even think about it." I forced a smile, knowing full well he would likely trample over me if I took even a step out of line. If I was going to learn from this man, I would have to watch what he did instead of asking questions. 

"What're you standing around for? Come." Turning back to where I had been standing, I woke myself up from the pit of despair I had thrown myself into. 

‘What did you think was going to happen?’ I quickly followed as he gestured me over with a jerk of his head. 

~~~~~~

Sitting in the Captain's car, I couldn't help but feel anxious with the silence that thickened the air. According to the file given to us by Ishigami, we had to infiltrate a beach bar... But we were heading in the opposite direction from the sea. We were driving downtown. 

"Umm, sir, the file says the destination is-" Kaga, once again, cutting somebody off mid sentence. 

"Shut up," he spat, taking me aback with how rude he was. 

‘I guess that ‘scum’ comment wasn't too out of character for him, then’ I thought, stricken into silence but sighing on the inside. I turned to gaze out the window, praying that I could get through the day without being caught out for being inferior to what my file suggested. 

~~~~~~

When we stopped, I found myself inside a love hotel. My heart raced with worry, recognising the name as a brand my father ran when I was still living at home. He was a gang leader. With a strong mafia at that. He had his dirty little fingers in every industry that had some form of shady business going on. It's what made me hate him so much. The things he did, the things he made me watch, it's what made me want to become a detective. I wanted to pay the universe back for all the bad stuff he had done, and maybe one day find the evidence to arrest him. God knows, the police he had under his claws and henchmen doing his dirty work had delayed that for long enough. 

We made our way to the room booked for us, or, more aptly, for Kaga. Meanwhile, I tried to hide my face from the receptionist as discreetly as I could, not wanting them to somehow recognise me. Even though I did my makeup differently from when I was younger, had dyed my hair black from its original brown, dressed differently and even held myself differently, there wasn't much else I could do to change my appearance without making it trackable. I couldn't get surgery because then I would be in the government system; I know, somehow, they'd be able to track me, even if the profile I had now was completely different. 

"Hey, um... What're we doing here?"  I asked as I closed the door behind me, the eeriness of the red room making my eyes dart around for any hidden cameras or listening devices. I remembered my father telling me about all the politicians he had on tape and all the people he’d bribed with that information.

"I'm pretty sure I said shut up." Kaga spat, also inspecting the room. I frowned at his rudeness and flipped the switch that turned on the electricity for the room. All the lights went out, causing Kaga to spin around and glare at me in the darkness.

"Don't you know what your position is? Don't interfere." His frown deepened as he stormed back to where I was standing. He was obviously offended I had turned off the lights. 

"Love hotels are famous for secret cameras. They're turned on when the electricity switch is flipped. I thought you wouldn't want to risk getting caught." I smiled up to him with a spiteful thought hidden behind it. ‘This guy…’

Probably annoyed with how much sense my statement made, Kaga turned back to the centre of the room. ‘Is he really that easily annoyed?’ I chuckled to myself, not wanting to be reprimanded for intentionally frustrating my instructor.

The two of us were now alone in a dark room with nothing but a bed and mirrors on the ceiling. Not to mention a love hotel. I was painfully aware of what the room represented and everything that had ever happened in it due to the stillness in the air with the air-con off. Memories of what my father encouraged my sister and I to do in our youth flashed back, causing me to shake them out of my head. 

"Why're you so nervous?" Sitting on the large bed, Kaga raised his brow at me while I stood awkwardly away from him. I could see a concerned look on the Captain's face as he brought me back to earth. I could tell he wasn't concerned about my feelings, but rather about how naive and stupid I must seem. I didn't want to walk any further into the establishment than I had to, so I stuck my ground. 

"N-No reason." I grew shy, knowing I had no connection to my past life on my file and not wanting him to have a clue to think I would. 

"Oh?" A mischievous grin grew on my instructor's face and my senses heightened. With that, Kaga grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me down onto the bed aggressively. Even though he was only holding my wrist, I struggled to move. My heart began to race in fear of what he was trying to do. Growing up with the most erratic people as guardians, I didn't want to guess what his plan was. 

"This morning was totally screwed up, thanks to you." He frowned down at me, that same demeaning look conveyed on his surprisingly handsome face. You would never guess his personality was as cruel as he was if it wasn't for the eternal crease between his brows. Feeling the anxiousness of an expected punishment, my breath gets caught in my throat. 

"How do you plan on making it up to me?" His grin returned as he held my wrists harder than necessary. Despite the smirk, his eyes were cold and expressionless. There was no way I was going to allow what he was insinuating to happen, so I pushed against his hands with all my might while somehow snaking my foot high enough to push on his stomach. 

However, before I could attempt to catapult him off, he covered my mouth with his hand. I looked at him like he was crazy, but because I hadn’t done much training lately, I couldn’t push him off me.

"Don't talk." He hissed, rising up from being inches away from my face. Then, I saw him pull something from my ear. It was an earpiece, making me wonder when he was able to put it there, not to mention without my knowing it was there. "This will make for a huge amount of evidence." He explained to himself. My mind, already in disarray, went into a confusion like no other. "It was worth the effort of getting it on." He looked at me suggestively as I sat up with unsure thoughts. 

‘So... He didn't lead me here for something worse?’ My brows furrowed as I thought back to the moments leading up to this, embarrassed and angry that I thought it would come to that. It was concerning to see his demeanour change from what I just saw to the victorious look on his face. He looked down at me, still sitting on the bed with a dejected expression, seemingly noticing my staring. 

"What're you just sitting there for?" He laughed at my appearance, my apprehension rising due to how laid back he was. Maybe it was because of where I was, but I was more sensitive to the casual restriction he just put me in. I looked away, not wanting to say something I'd regret. 

Then, I felt him leaning over me and I quickly turned my gaze back to him. I panicked. His face was nearer than I expected it to be as he jerked forward. I jumped back, the memories of intimidation tactics used on me before resurfacing from my past. 

"Did you really think I was being serious earlier?" He almost laughed at the notion. "Unfortunately for you, I don't have any problems with women." He inched closer again and it took everything in my being to not smack that pretty face of his. If I assaulted a detective, I would be expelled from the academy and likely arrested. Not to mention the scene it would cause being dragged out of here. "I'm not so desperate that I'd go after some inexperienced brat." He smirked before getting up from the bed, talking to me like I was the idiot. 

"What did you bring me here for..." Having had the time to understand that I would be safe and de-escalate my anger, I quickly regathered myself and straightened my back. "...If not for my training?" Looking at his suited back, I started to think back to why I was actually here. 

"I've got more important things to do than that useless nonsense." He explained spitefully. 

‘Then why become an instructor?’ I scowled to myself, knowing full well this man had no intention of teaching anyone anything. 

"Well, thanks to you so boldly choosing me, I pulled off some undercover work." He turned with another victorious smile. I was frozen silent, not knowing what would come out of this intimidating man's mouth next. Then, he pulled out his cellphone. 

"It's me. Yeah... the bug was a success. I've got enough evidence, so I'm withdrawing. You keep on going, sneak in and stay on the guy's tail." When he ended the call with his subordinate, the Captain quickly headed for the door. I was still frozen, trying to calm my racing heart from the panic I was in before.

"What're you doing?" Kaga turned back to me. "Staying?" My gaze darted up at the horrifying idea. 

"If you are, go search the room next door. Make sure you come back here." At the mere notion of real detective work,. Before I could say a thing, the frowning returned. 

"Too bad. You're not ready." The curt response was a deep cut to my confidence. Searching a room for anything fishy was probably one of the only things I came to the academy being able to do. But, before I could speak my piece, Kaga turned and left. 

~~~~~~

By that night, the long, rigorous day had completely worn me out; I'm sure my classmates also fared the same. I arrived at the dorms the academy made us stay in and threw myself onto my couch. ‘Could Kaga's mission possibly be for an investigation on my father?’ I thought back to where the excursion took place and the idea made my heart flutter. For years I had wished and prayed for retribution for all the wrong-doings my father and his goons had accomplished. The thought of his vicious crimes being aired out like dirty laundry brought a smile to my weary face. 

Getting off the comfortable couch, I retrieved a box from under my bed. It was small and light; there wasn't much in it. I opened it to find loads of old photographs. Some of them were heartwarming: my twin sister and I playing around or hugging each other. 

But, I’d only put them in there to hide what I was really storing: Pictures of crime scenes my father had left out in our living room or secluded garden. I once caught him in the act; that photo was in there too. I had an old tie with blood on it. A passport with a different identity than I had registered into the academy with. My mother's ring was knocking around in there somewhere. 

I hardly knew my mother. There are no pictures of us together and no one talked about her after she left us. The ‘family’. She couldn't take what my father and his ‘brothers’ did any longer and ran away, leaving her two daughters behind. I'm pretty sure she's dead now. Otherwise my father would have found her at some point. 

I came to realise that soon before my 18th birthday that my father didn't really care about us; he just wanted a lineage. So, I somehow convinced my sister to run with me. I assured her that I had a plan that would get us the lives we wanted for a little while. I had trained to go on the run; my father taught me all the techniques the cops used to track fugitives. That, along with a little help from a friend from my youth judo club, was all I needed to get us new identities and places to live. It wasn't easy at first, having to split from the person you had literally been with since birth. But, it was the only way to ensure one of us would be safe if the other was caught. 

It was also difficult to work up a good enough resume to get myself into the police force. The name Atsuko Motomori had never existed before four years ago. It was risky to lie about the qualifications I had when, in my past life, I never gained any. I was homeschooled to ensure I wouldn't be coaxed away by true, lawful policemen investigating my father or my ‘uncles’.

Looking through these memories and reliving my awful excuse for a childhood, I happily remembered why I was condemning myself to this place and people like Captain Kaga. I wanted to make sure my sister and I would be safe. And the only way I could do that was by locking them all up for the rest of their lives.

As I mulled over the bloody scenes within the box, I heard a knock at my door. I jumped, not used to company, and knocked the box off my lap. 

"Crap!" I whispered to myself, trying to clear everything away as quickly as possible. 

"Who is it?" I called out after collecting most of the contents, having double-checked the area for any compromising pictures. 

"Atsuko~! I come with food!" The cheery voice of my only female ally chimsed from the other side of the door. 

"Naruko, what're you doing here?" I questioned while opening the door. The food she was trying to bribe me with was a pack of potato chips and a soda from the vending machines downstairs. 

"I'm pooped, so I thought you might be even more worse off." The bubbly attitude helped her push herself into my dorm room. 

"You're not wrong there." Happy to have some form of womanly friendship after so many years of trying to keep to myself, I lazily followed her to the couch. 

"So how was it with the Satan reincarnate?" She giggled to herself, lowering her voice at the insulting part of her question. Maybe she feared he would hear her. I wouldn't be surprised if they had us under surveillance to see what we did after hours. Or if the Captain had supersonic, selective hearing. 

"It was... an experience." Trying to keep up my half of the deal I made with my instructor, I put on a tired smile. Kaga promised to pass me if I didn't tell anyone he had bunked the undercover training. 

"You want a drink? I think I've got some tea somewhere." Quickly attempting to change the subject, I wandered off to the small kitchenette in the corner of my room. 

As I prepared the beverages, Naruko spoke up out of nowhere. 

"Oh, Atsuko, what's this?" She called out and my blood ran cold. ‘Did I miss a picture? Was it something possibly incriminating?’ Wild thoughts circulated my brain at the possibility of getting caught. Having gory images of dead men stored away in my room wouldn't be easily explained. 

Hesitantly, I turned with a questioning smile, just waiting for her to let out some form of horror or disgust. Instead, though, I found her looking at an old polaroid photo with a loving smile. 

"You didn't tell me you had a sister!" She asked and I cocked my head, glancing at the image she waved at me. It was of my sister and I, building sandcastles on a beach when we were kids. My heart stopped as I remembered the scene.

That picture was of the day before my mother left. She had somehow convinced my father to let her take us out- which was a strange occurrence. Even if my father wasn't overbearing, which he definitely was, she didn't like going out much. It was summer and hot, and we would only annoy him, being locked in the house. I'm pretty sure I remembered at least three bodyguards surrounding our section of the sand, though.

I smiled at the painful memory, a happy one buried underneath so much hurt, and looked at the brown-haired girl with two short pigtails, dressed in a pink bathing suit. I don't think I've had a smile that big on my face in a long time. 

"Well, I, uh..." Not knowing how to respond, I just made noises. 

"She must be so proud of you for making it into this academy." She laughed and the statement only hurt me. 

"She's not really in my life anymore." I smiled sadly sitting next to her so I could look at the picture more in-depth. I could see a sliver of a man in a suit to the left of the picture's edge, closest to where I was, and something was slightly poking out of his waistband. To Naruko, it probably looked like a shadow of a tree or something less sinister than what it was, but it was likely one of the bodyguards with a gun hidden away. 

"O-Oh, I'm sorry, Atsuko." Naruko sounded so sad to hear I wasn't in contact with my sister anymore. We did look really happy in that picture. 

"Nah, it's alright. That's just how life goes." I took the picture from her and looked at it for a bit longer, concentrating more on my sister's face, even though it was an exact replica of mine, before slipping it through the crack between the lid of the box and the box itself. I didn't want my new friend catching a glimpse of anything in there.

"You sound so wise," Naruko giggled, maybe trying to help me feel happier again and lighten the mood.

"You make me sound like an old man," I laughed, jokingly hitting her arm like I was offended. 

"You shouldn't say such wistful things then." She laughed back as I headed back to the kettle to pour us some tea. 

We chatted for a little longer, mainly about what her training had consisted of, before Naruko went back to her room. Once she was gone, I sighed, glad that the picture she had found underneath my coffee table wasn't anything more frightening. Sliding the small box back under my bed, I began getting ready for a good night's rest. 

~~~~~~

Waking up the next day was... rough. Staying up later, thanks to Naruko, and the subconscious worry I’d because of what happened at the love hotel, I’d probably only got a few hours of sleep. 

‘Right, I have to get today right, at least’, I told myself, throwing my legs over the side of my bed. Ishigami already had it in for me because of the train situation - I'm sure all of the special instructors did - but I wasn't going to let that stop me from doing my best. ‘For us.’ Thinking back to the picture that had been found on my floor, I used that as encouragement to continue my life as though nothing had happened.

~~~~~~

In my first class, I could see Naruko already sitting down. She commented on how she hadn't seen me in the cafeteria for breakfast. "I wonder whose fault that is?" I playfully blamed her for making me wake up late. As we continued to chat mindlessly, I couldn’t help but think back to the limited facilities the academy had for women. ‘Well, at least the food and living quarters are good.’ 

"The real lectures are finally going to start today." Likely having it easier than I had yesterday, Naruko had a fire of ambition in her eyes. Luckily, our first class was in the classroom and not martial arts training, otherwise her passion might hurt someone. Our lectures consisted of a wide range of expert topics ranging from using tracking equipment to how to de-escalate a situation to undercover work. 

As we discussed what we would be studying here, the memory of how I was handled yesterday manifested on my wrists. I rubbed them, trying to get rid of the feeling of Kaga's hands. 

"Something wrong?" Noticing my anxiousness, Naruko peered into my face. As I told her “I’m fine”, she remembered how we never talked about my experiences yesterday. 

"I'm pretty sure I passed. If not, I don't think I'd still be here." I laughed off the subject, knowing how strict the instructors seemed to my friend. 

"Did you hear? Students who failed were severely punished." An uneasy expression laid itself on Naruko's face and I also started to feel sympathy for those that weren't as lucky as us. As we wondered about what the punishments were, Naruko got that grin she’d had during the ceremony yesterday. 

"I wonder what kind of punishment I would have gotten." The excited aura she was giving off only made a chill run down my back thinking about how much worse the Captain could be.

Intruding on my thoughts, the instructor delivering our lecture walked in and started the lesson. When it was over, I rushed to change into the attire I would need for our next bout of training on the grounds.

~~~~~~

As Naruko and I arrived on the pitch, everyone was lined up in front of Instructor Soma. He frowned at us, stating how late we were. "Sorry about that, Instructor. We took too long in the shower room." Maybe too casual with the man because of his usual laid back aura, we both bowed deeply. 

"Yes, there's no women's locker room, is there?" A small smile finally returned to his face as we rose again. "It's the first time, so I'll go easy on you. But, I won't go easy on you next time." Even though he looked kind, anyone could tell he didn't give any leeway. 

"There won't be a next time, sir," I replied rather confidently and the instructor almost seemed amused.

Naruko and I went to line up in the very back. The girl who couldn't seem to keep her feelings to herself whispered to me about how nice he seemed and how good looking he was. Thinking back to how Kaga treated me, I couldn't help but quietly agree. ‘There would definitely be no such leniency with him.’ I thought about all the awful punishments or torture methods the Captain could know as we continued our training.

Soma had us perform a fitness exam. We hadn't had a break since the class started when he called out my name to be tested. I stretched the pain out of my legs quickly, not wanting to cramp up. 

"Woah, Atsuko! You have a scary look in your eye!" Naruko, as tired out as I was, laughed nervously. You might say I was competitive. I would say I was trying to prove my worth to the classes of men who didn't think I belonged here. 

"Just tryna keep my head in the game." I jumped on my toes as the instructor called out my name again. "Coming!" 

Jogging over to him, I noticed that even the guys were looking visibly tired due to our endless training. I, on the other hand, although exhausted, had trained like this since I could walk. I was used to being able to hide the physical pain in order to not get shouted at for being weak. 

~~~~~~

For our last lecture of the day, feeling like I had been brought through the wringer, we all filtered into the Monitor Room. Maybe too nervous yesterday to get a good look at the room, I overheard my classmates gossiping about the surveillance equipment surrounding us. Not only were there cameras of the school grounds, but some screens showed destinations all over the country. 

"Don't you think just using this room would make for an easy investigation?" Overhearing one student comment, I couldn't help but agree. Knowing how much the pictures under my bed were worth, who knows how vital a video of a crime would be to an investigation. You just needed to be able to prove they weren't doctored. 

As the instructor lectured, I noticed Naruko resting on my shoulder. "Come on, Naruko. Just a bit longer." I shook her while keeping an eye out for anyone that might rat her out. 

"You can talk. You're a machine, Atsuko," she whined under her breath.

Suddenly, before I could laugh at her comment, another voice spoke up behind us. 

"Sasaki, go to the medical office if you're drowsy." Instructor Shinonome piped up and we both jumped to attention, having not felt anyone around us. Even though the man was grinning, there was something evil behind that childish face of his. 

"Ah! S-Sorry! I'm okay!" Naruko instantly woke up at the prospect of getting punished. 

"If anyone else wants to sleep, you can tell me. They put you through it on the first day, so I expect you're all tired." Shinonome's offer almost sounded like a chance to get us expelled. Or, it did to me anyway. Everyone else looked relieved at the kind sentiment. 

"Okay, that's all for today's class then. Great work everyone." A cheerful smile returned to his face as I eyed him suspiciously. The man I saw in the shower room on my first day was hidden under that friendly persona he had on. 

"Oh, right. Can those who I call stay after class for a moment?" And there it was! The not so innocent catch to his kind offer. Those who would be called were definitely being thrown to the wolves in order to save the rest of us.

As Shinonome began to read out the list, he directed his gaze to the monitor. He called out a few names before looking directly at me. "Lastly, Atsuko Motomori." His face had no note of malicious intent, however, I couldn't help but not trust it. As I gasped to myself, he dismissed our classmates. 

"Atsuko, what did you do?" Naruko whispered as our free classmates shuffled out around us. 

"I-I don't think I did anything?" I panicked, thinking back over the day, trying to find anything that could warrant me being reprimanded. Looking over to those also called, I could see they were just as nervous. Why were we the one's held back? 

‘Maybe... Kaga's mission was discovered?’ I couldn't help but wonder if we’d been caught as Naruko left me sitting where I was. 

"Don't be so nervous. I'm not going to get angry." The happy smile on Shinonome's face helped calm the others in the room. Even I was somewhat relieved by his words. "How were they? The lectures?" Directing his question at me, Shinonome looked over. 

"Educational! It's wonderful how good the facilities are." Trying to get on his good side, I didn't want to let myself look withered as I kept my voice light. 

"Well, the class seemed sleepy. Sasaki looked like she was nearly asleep." The comment didn't sit right with me, this being an elite academy and all.

"Well, as you said, they put us through it," I laughed, trying not to put Naruko in any deep water. 

"So, are you going to fall asleep on us as well? I'd have to punish you then." Shinonome cast me a look that probably didn't seem like anything to the other men in the room. But, to me, it seemed as untrustworthy as the rest of him. 

"Don't count on it." Not wanting to divulge my past of intense training, I just showed a soft smile. To be honest, I wouldn't mind a nap right now, but I wasn't going to admit that. The thought of any kind of punishment, which would likely be some form of harassment from him, had me on edge. 

"Too bad. I wonder if any students who I can have fun with will turn up soon?" His mischievous appearance reminded me of the look Kaga gave me yesterday and my eyes darted away. Even though Shinonome seemed actually happy and there was no emotion in Kaga's eyes, the concept of teasing made me uneasy. 

‘It's scary how he can talk like that and still smile.’ I thought about how his words didn't match the expression as the doors of the Monitor Room opened again. 

Throwing my gaze to the door, I watched Ishigami, Goto and Soma make their way inside. "You're all immediately going to be assigned as student aides to the instructors." Ishigami didn't miss a beat as all attention landed on him. 

"Simply put, you'll help the instructors file documents, prepare lectures and such," Soma added, helping the confused students out. I was shocked. I hadn't done anything special to get me a close position to any of the instructors, let alone have to deal with their grunt work. "Since we must continue our normal duties as Public Safety officers while we teach, we won't always have the time." With that comment, I finally understood why Kaga would agree to become an instructor- so he wouldn't have to do any of the work if he had a capable enough aide. I pitied the person that would have to undertake that role. 

"This is good experience, so although it will be difficult, we ask that you try." The encouraging words from Soma were much more trustworthy to me than Shinonome's slightly eerie ones. 

"Each instructor will get a full-time aide. Following the instructors will be an important role." Goto, as blunt as he had been at the introduction ceremony, crossed his arms as he stared down at all of us. Somehow, the silence that followed was more anxiety invoking than anything Shinonome could say. Soma was right, though. Being so close to an instructor all the time would be a perfect learning opportunity. 

"We will now announce the aides," Ishigami announced, retrieving his clipboard once again. "Instructor Kaga's aide will be Atsuko Motomori." The Captain was as stoic as ever as he read out the list. I, on the other hand, couldn't be more shocked. ‘Kaga seemed so annoyed by even my mere presence yesterday, why would he want me as an aide? He already thinks I'm a screw up because of the train incident.’ 

"What?" Ishigami glared at me as he heard my wordless gasp. 

"Nothing, sir. Sorry." I bowed my head in embarrassment of drawing attention to myself as I pondered over the events in the love hotel that could get me the chance to become an aide. ‘Is it because I chose him yesterday?’ I panicked, thinking back to the misplaced bravery I’d had when picking an instructor.

"Isn't this a good thing? You're one of the few to come back with him safely." Ayumu smirked at my worrisome state. ‘The only reason I was safe is because he didn't actually train me. There was no chance to get in harm's way. Except for the possible fallout of someone recognising me.’ 

"Shinonome, refrain from talking." Ishigami quickly progressed through the list of aides. Once he finished, he turned to me once again. He explained that Kaga was on an investigation mission and that I should go see him when he gets back. I hesitantly agreed, glad to have the time to prepare myself while he was out working. Unlike our permanent instructors, the guys from Public Safety weren't always around, which is probably why they need the help. 

As we were dismissed, I tried to remind myself what a good learning opportunity this could be.

~~~~~~

When the time came to see Instructor Kaga, as Shinonome had told me back in the Monitor Room, I headed to their staff room.

"Excuse me." I knocked on the door before opening it to find an office-like space. Kaga was sitting at one of the many chairs at the large table in the centre of the room. I stood in front of him in order to introduce myself. 

"I'm Motomori. Starting today I will be serving as your full-time aide." Straight-backed and trying to not look uncomfortable under his discerning gaze, I explained why I dared talk to him. 

"Oh?" His brows frowned, once again judging me for all I was worth. 

"I just came to let you know Instru-." However, before I could blame Ishigami for sending me here, I was interrupted.

"A full time aide?" He even seemed to ponder the idea before flat out rejecting me. "Useless, I have no need for an aide, so go." His blunt response threw me off a little. To be honest, I was surprised he didn't unenthusiastically jump at the idea for someone else to do his work. Losing the optimistic view of this assignment, I tried to explain that it had already been decided. 

"Don't need it." He quickly interrupted me again before turning his back on me. "Tell Ishigami for me," was the final thing he said before expelling my presence from the room.

~~~~~~

‘That was rougher than I thought it was going to be,’ I thought as I stood in the hallway, looking at the door signed 'Staff Room'. ‘But, I can't afford to back down here.’ More afraid of what Ishigami would say than what Kaga could do, I raised my fist to knock on the door. 

After hearing no reply, I began to get desperate. "Instructor, please!" I call out, not wanting to go back to Ishigami empty-handed.

"Shut up." The door flew open and there's Kaga, glaring down at me. The sudden action made me jump out of my skin in the silent corridor. "Let me spell this out for you since you don't seem to get it." The oncoming lecture was apparent when I felt like he was going to start insulting me for being so persistent. 

"I have no need for some useless piece." 

I won't lie, that statement struck home. The whole 'chessboard' way of thinking about people lower than you was exactly how my father treated us. I once confronted him about my mother's disappearance and all he could say was "she didn't know how to play the game. She's useless to us if she doesn't want to compete." That wording was something I never understood. How were you supposed to lead anyone if you didn't think anyone less than you was capable enough? 

As I thought about Kaga's statement, I tried to ignore the relation to the man who raised me. "If you give me a chance, I'm sure it'll get Ishigami off your back. He'll only complain to you if I go back to him now." I tried to reason with the side of him that hated his Captain counterpart and a wave of irritation flashed through his face. "I can do anything! I can file for you. I'll even do chores. Please!" I begged, hoping I was getting through to him. Maybe the idea of a maid would make him reflect on the idea. Then, he finally looked at me without that concerned expression. 

"Anything, you say?" He looked me up and down as I agreed, not thinking about the consequences of those words. Then, he narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth. 

"You can be my servant." The growing smirk on his face made me a little uneasy. It was that same grin of victory he’d showed when he’d collected the evidence from the love hotel. 

"Excuse me?" Was all I could utter out to ensure I’d heard him right. 

"You can be my full-time servant. How many times do I have to say it?" The disconcerting frown returned as his eyebrows creased together again. 

[iamtrebleclefstories]

I Was Made For Loving You

Soulmate AU series where Jo and Alex discover that they are soulmates under different circumstances

Feel free to leave your ideas for different ways of discovering your soulmate!!

Part 1 - Where You Have Matching Soul Marks

His mark was tingling. It had been tingling for the past two weeks. It was strange. Never had his mark tingled before. Not as a kid, not when he was with Rebecca, not when he married Izzie (who wasn’t his soulmate but Denny died and Izzie no longer had a soulmate so he thought it could work). It didn’t tingle with Lexie or Lucy or any of the various women he had slept with in the past month. But occasionally, while he was in the hospital, his mark would tingle.

His soulmate was nearby. He knew that much. She was around here somewhere, just out of reach. He never thought he would meet his soulmate. The phenomenon was so rare. The only people he had know that found their soulmates were Meredith and Derek, and Mark and Lexie. Everyone had a soul mark, but not everyone would get the chance to meet the person with the matching mark. Mainly because, people are impatient. Even though everyone had someone designed specifically for them, people were too impatient to wait for that person. Everyone wanted the love and the fun quickly. No one wanted to do the work. So, eventually many people ended up in committed relationships with life mates.

Having a life mate wasn’t a bad thing. There were plenty of people that were perfectly happy living their lives with a life mate. It wasn’t uncommon. In fact, nowadays, you were more likely to find that people were settling down with a life mate than a soulmate. That’s why he married Izzie. Her soulmate died and he hadn’t found his, so he thought he could make them both happy. He thought he could be a good, decent, honorable man. But that went out the window when she left him.

Since then, he hadn’t really gotten into anything serious. He gave up searching for someone that might make him feel like a little bit less of a screw up. Sure he had a girlfriend or two, but he made it pretty clear that it wasn’t anything serious. He filled his loneliness with a string of one night stands and hookups. He never slept with a girl more than twice. They’re less likely to get attached that way. It worked for a while. He almost forgot about the constellation on the inside of his left wrist.

His mark was itching and burning like crazy. Not for the first time he cursed the fact that the mark was on his wrist and he was a surgeon who needed his hands to work. Resisting the urge to rub it, he hurried over to the pit where he was paged for an incoming trauma. He reached for a trauma gown and bumped into an intern he had never seen before. He pulled on the gown and gloves quickly without sparing a glance to the woman, “Do you mind?”

“Sorry.”

The sound of her voice made his heart speed up a little and his mark tingled. He ignores it and kept walking to the ambulance bay, noticing that she was trailing him, “Why are you following me?

“I’m your intern for the day.”

“Hello intern. You have a name?”

“Jo Wilson.”

“Nice. I like chicks with boys names.” He glances at her and feels his heart pick up bit, but ignores it. Again. She was pretty. Beautiful even. He was sure if he looked into her eyes they’d be beautiful too.

“Karev.” Callie interjects, pulling him out of his thought.”

“What? I do it’s hot,” He smirks and finally locks eyes with the beautiful young woman in front of him and it’s almost as if time stops. He feels it immediately. The burning sensation on his wrist as he clutches it tightly and gasps. He hears the intern exhale sharply and watches as she holds onto her side as if she just got the wind knocked out of her.

They stare at each other for a moment with equally terrified expressions when they hear a voice in the background, “Holy shit.” They break eye contact and look for the source of the voice, Callie Torres, who’s eyes are wide in shock. “You guys are... woah.”

He takes a deep breath and looks back at his intern. Jo. Her name is Jo Wilson. She looks like she might run. You and me both. He was too damaged for her. She was a nice, normal looking girl and all he had ever known was crazy. He couldn’t possibly be her soulmate. He was an asshole. He was the last person who deserved to meet their soulmate.

The sound of the ambulance arriving was enough to snap him out of his thoughts. Soon, he was so preoccupied with the sixteen year old girl’s injuries that he had slipped into attending mode and focused on controlling what he could. He sent her to work on his pre and post ops and watched her leave as the elevator doors closed.

“You can’t be serious,” Callie shakes her head. “You could’ve let her scrub in. You two could’ve talked and gotten to know each other in surgery. It would’ve been like the least stressful first date ever. She’s your soulmate for crying out loud.”

“I can’t right now Torres. I just can’t,” he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I know what they say about me. I know I’m an asshole and a manwhore. I’m so screwed up. She doesn’t need that crap. She’s a bright, wide-eyed intern that’s got a lot going for her and she doesn’t need me and my baggage messing it all up.”

“Alex,” Callie smiles softly and sighs. “Do you know how rare it is to find your soulmate? The one person who will put up with your crap no matter what? The person who was quite literally made for you? Now I don’t know much about this Wilson girl but if she’s your soulmate, I’m pretty sure she’s tough enough to handle it.”

The elevator doors opened to the OR floor and they hurried to scrub in. As he was prepping for surgery, he tested the waters to see if what he had heard was true. They say you could sense your soulmate. If you try hard enough you could feel them and sense what they were feeling. So he closes his eyes and reaches out in hopes of maybe finding the connection.

Within seconds, he feels confusion. Frustration. Nervousness. Excitement. Fear. Uncertainty. He chuckles to himself, yeah me too princess. He pushes all thoughts aside and begins to focus on the task at hand. About halfway through the surgery, he can feel her presence in the gallery. Sure enough, he looks up and sees her observing the procedure.

“You could tell her to come down here you know.”

He ignores Callie’s comment and proceeds to tell her to go check on his patients again. He knows he’s being an ass, but maybe if he’s enough of a jerk she’ll forget about him and just move on to someone better. He knows it’s futile though. Once you meet your soulmate, you can try as hard as you can to distance yourself and be with other people but it’ll never be right. Because your soul has already found its missing piece. Take Meredith and Derek for example. Derek was married and tried to stay with Addison, while Meredith tried to date and forget about Derek. In the end, the connection was too strong. The bond was too deep. The pain was too much to stay apart. Mark and Lexie were a mess but when she died, she died loving him. A part of Mark died with her and eventually he succumbed to his injuries as a result of heartbreak.

Hours later when the surgery is over and it’s time to check on his patient, he knows he’s gonna have to see her again. He knows the minute they are in the same room together his heart will race. He knows the minute they lock eyes he will feel as if all the oxygen in the world won’t be enough to restore his lungs after he forgets to breathe at the sight of her. But most of all, he knows he will feel like the worst person in the world for treating her badly.

He sees her talking to Torres outside the girl’s room. He breathes in deeply and walks over to them.

“Oh Alex! Your... intern brought you coffee.” Torres smiles and looks pointedly at the young woman in front of her.

“Cool.”

They look at each other awkwardly for a moment when Callie clears her throat, “Wilson here was wondering if she could scrub in on your next surgery.”

The young woman in question looks over to Callie and glares, shaking her head. “No... that’s not... I mean, I would love to scrub in on your next surgery but um, you don’t have to...”

“Can I talk to you for a minute? Alone?” Alex says.

The intern looks over at Torres again and who nods at her encouragingly, “Yeah... we can talk.”

He turns around and has her follow him down to the tunnels, where hopefully he could find some privacy for the two of them to have a conversation. It felt right to bring her down here. So many significant things happened down there in the tunnels, so it seemed appropriate to have his first real talk with his soulmate in the same place. He stops and sits in a gurney. Just as he’s about to open his mouth and say something, he’s interrupted.

“Look. You obviously hate me. I don’t know what I did to piss you off or what you might have heard about me that made you decide that I wasn’t worth your time but I’m not a bad person. I am a kind person. I am smart. I was valedictorian of my high school, I went to Princeton, and Harvard Med. So what am I missing? What am I not getting? Please tell me so I can move on.”

“I don’t hate you. You haven’t pissed me off,” he insists

“I haven’t?”

“No. I just... it may be possible that I’ve... dated other interns...”

“You mean Heather.”

“Yeah...”

“And Leah.”

“Uh huh,” he nods sheepishly.

“And Susan, Stacy, Tina, Irene. Don’t worry about lying to me or trying to spare my feelings. There isn’t much that I haven’t heard about you already since you’ve screwed every one of my friends. But I am willing to put all of that aside if you are.”

He stares dumbly at her for a second, “Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Okay.”

He wasn’t expecting her to know how big of a douche he was. He realized that he made a few mistakes but he hadn’t noticed that his reputation was scarily similar to what it was his intern year. If that wasn’t a slap in the face, then he didn’t know what was. “How about we start over. I’m Alex.”

One side of her mouth twitches as she reaches out to meet his outstretched hand, “I’m Jo.”

“Well, Jo, I have a Nissen tomorrow morning at 8am if you’d like to join me.”

Her smile grows wider and she nods enthusiastically, “Yes! I’d love to.”

“But for now, how would you feel about joining me at Joe’s bar for a drink tonight?” he asks, hoping she’ll say yes.

“Yeah, what time should I meet you?”

“I’ll come get you in the intern locker room at the end of your shift.”

“Okay. Yes that sounds good.” She gives him a bright grin and he decides that it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, and vows to make sure that as long as he’s around, she’s got something to smile about. “I’ll see you in a few hours, Alex.”

He takes a giant breath in and mirrors her grin, “See ya in a bit, Jo.” He turns and walks toward the attendings lounge, hoping to run into Meredith in order to share the big news. Alex Karev had found his soulmate.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

EIGHTY TWO - OUT

LEGACY: A Tony Stark Daughter Story

MASTERLIST

< previous

Word Count: 1,900ish

Summary: The reactor gets taken out of Bailey.

I was pulled out of the memory by my body being moved. Tony was trying his best to gently pick me up without waking me, but failed. When I opened my eyes, I saw that he had me bridal style in his arms and was heading for the elevator. He glanced down and noticed my opened eyes.

“Go back to sleep kid,” he whispered.

I shook my head. “No.”

“FRIDAY,” Tony called as we entered the elevator, “take us down to the Med-Bay.” The elevator started moving.

“Why are we going to the Med-Bay?”

“Because it’s time for your surgery.”

“No, it’s not. It’s still Thursday.”

“It’s Friday morning, kiddo.” Tony set me down on a bed once we arrived in the Med-Bay.

“I must have been in there for a while,” I mumbled.

“What was that kid?” Tony questioned as he pulled up a chair. A nurse walked in with a cart of stuff and started prepping an IV.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” Tony glared slightly and was about to say something when Helen Cho walked in.

“You ready?” She asked.

“Always,” I quickly answered. “And no offense Helen, if I don’t see you after this is out of me, it will be all too soon.” Tony laughed at my comment.

“I completely understand,” she laughed as the nurses started rolling me out the room.

“I’ll see you afterwards dad,” I said.

“I love you. I’ll be right here when you wake up.” Tony said. He stayed in the Med-Bay room as they pushed me to the operating room. 

The surgery went smoothly. The arc reactor came out without a hitch and my body healed itself quickly after. It was after surgery that didn’t. It had been three hours since the surgery ended and I should have woken up two hours ago. To say that Tony was worried was an understatement.

“Why isn’t she waking up?” Tony demanded an answer from Helen. Tony was sitting in a chair and my bedside holding onto one of my hands.

“I don’t know,” Dr. Cho responded. “All the tests are coming back that she’s fine. There’s no medical explanation on why she isn’t awake. I think—“ She paused to take a deep breath. “I think this has to do with her telepathic abilities.”

And Helen was right. My mind was lost. I knew that I should have been awake but I couldn’t find my way out. My brain was playing tricks on me. I was in a white hallway full of doors. I opened the first door slowly and watched my parents leave me with HYDRA. I quickly shut it as the tears began to roll down my cheeks. Somedays I like remembering everything, it makes me feel like I’m in control, this is not one of those days. I skipped the next 10 doors or so, fearing what could lie behind them. I finally got the guts to open another door. 

I was in my bed at the old Malibu mansion. Tony was watching me sleep, Pepper beside him. They just watched me in silence. But I could feel how scared they were. By the looks of it, this was the end of my first Christmas stay with them. They were scared to let me go back, but also scared to keep me. I smiled sadly, that feeling of being scared of what could possibly happen had never left them, even all these many years later. I shut the door and heard a voice in the hallway. It was Tony. He was trying to get me to wake. I followed the voice and opened the door. I saw Tony holding my hand as I lay in the hospital bed. He was begging me to wake. I wanted to wake up too, wanted to return to him. I don’t know how, but when I finally opened my eyes, it was mid afternoon. I looked over to see Tony still beside me with his head in one hand and mine in the other. I squeezed his hand gently.

“Hey there,” I whispered.

Tony quickly straighten up and looked at me. He put his other hand on my face. “Kid! You had me worried sick.” He kissed my forehead. "Please stop doing things like that.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened.”

“Something happened?” Tony was confused.

“Yes, but I don’t really know how to talk about it.” He was about to say something when I continued on. I put my hand on my chest and began to rub around where the arc reactor once was. “Just like new.”

“Just like new.” Tony repeated. He kissed my forehead again. I could feel he was wanting to continue talking about what had happened while I was asleep, but he didn’t bring it up again. It wasn’t the right time, he knew that. “You’re healing powers kicked in during surgery. Helen and her team were really impressed.”

“I’m glad.” I sat up and swung my legs to the side of the bed. “I’m going to go change and then do a few training exercises. I’ve been out of routine for too long.” I looked Tony in the eyes. “Is that okay?”

“As long as you’re feeling up to it. I have a few things to get done. How about we meet up for dinner? I’ll have someone pick us up some Chinese.”

“That sounds great.” 

I skipped out of the room in my hospital gown and booked it up the stairs. It felt so good to go that fast. When I reached my room, I quickly threw on a sports bra, tank top, leggings, and tennis shoes. The bracelet that calls my suit caught my eye, I slipped it on just in case then ran down to the training area. I went at it with some punching bags before going through some target practice with knifes, arrows, and guns. After hours of target practice and punching bags, I made my way outside. It had snowed last night and looked like it might snow again, which was fine by me. 

I looked to the facility gate. Reporters and photographers were still there. I rolled my eyes and started jogging around back and for the edge of the river. I ran as fast as I could once I hit the river’s edge, acting like I had new found abilities or something. I dodged logs and rocks, not missing a beat. I was quick. The cold air felt good on my body. Running outside felt like freedom. I ran for a while until the bracelet on my wrist beeped. I slowed down and it beeped one final time before I heard Tony’s voice.

“Hey, kid,” he greeted. “Where’d you run off to? I went down to the training rooms and you weren’t there.”

“Sorry,” I said as I caught my breath. “I got bored. I’m out on a run on the shoreline.”

“Well, the Chinese is here.”

“I’m heading in now.” 

I turned around and ran towards the direction of the facility. I entered through a different door than I had exited, to avoid any press. Once I reached the kitchen, Tony had all the Chinese take out boxes opened and had already dished himself up some food.

“You really couldn’t wait?” I asked as I opened a cabinet to grab a plate. 

“I’m starving,” Tony answered, taking a bit of food. “I don’t remember the last time I ate.”

“It was at this time last night,” FRIDAY chimed in.

“Set a reminder for Mr. Stark here to eat,” I ordered the AI.

“All over it, Miss,” she responded. “But I can’t promise that it will work.”

“I understand.”

“I don’t need a reminder,” Tony whined.

“Obviously you do,” I said as I put some food on my plate. “And I’m not your mother or your wife, so I refuse to be the one to do it everyday.”

“But you are my daughter. You should care just the same.”

I laughed and sat down on a stool next to him. “I do love you.” I stuffed some food into my mouth. “You still working on the nanotech?”

“Yeah, it will be a little while longer until it’s what I want it to be exactly. I made some adjustments to your current suit though.”

“Oh really? Like what?”

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.” He winked at me.

“Are you serious? You tell me that and then make me wait until when? Tomorrow? Until my birthday? That’s just rude.”

“It’s your birthday tomorrow?” Tony sarcastically asked. “I had no idea.” I playfully punched his arm. “Hey! That was uncalled for!”

“I think it was perfectly called for! You deserved it!” I laughed. “Do you have any fun plans for the rest of the evening?”

“Just finishing up a project.”

“Mmm… what project?”

Tony stood up and walked over to the sink. “If I told you, then I’d have to kill you.” He set his plate and fork in the sink.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“That’s stupid. You know I could figure out what you’re working on if I really wanted to, right?” I gave my head a little tap.

“You could. But what would be the fun in that?” He winked again as he started walking out of the room.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to the lab. And you are going to head to bed.”

“Am I now?” I gave him a questioning look.

He turned around. “Yes, you are. It’s going to be a big day tomorrow.”

“Is it really?”

He turned around and headed down the stairs. “Good night kid!”

I rolled my eyes, put my plate in the sink, and then put the left overs away. I headed up the stairs to bed as he told me to, knowing that he was watching my every move. I’m not stupid. I looked up at the camera next to the door to my room and stuck my tongue out, giggling to myself as I entered my bedroom.

“FRIDAY,” I called as I grabbed some pjs from my dresser. “Could you turn on the shower?”

“Of course,” The AI responded. I heard the shower turn on quickly.

“Thank you.” 

I walked into the bathroom. As I set my pjs on the counter top, I smirked at the realization that it was fixed from my punching it the other day. Sometimes I am shocked at how smart Tony makes the AIs. I had told FRIDAY that I’d call to get the counter top fixed but she did it any ways, knowing I would probably forget. I stripped and then quickly got into the shower. It was a nice place to think. I thought about Tony and how I hoped that this birthday would be better than some of mine in the past. As I thought about him, I focused in on his thoughts.

“I hope she likes it,” he thought.

I quickly got out of there, not wanting to spoil any surprises that he had in store. I wanted this birthday to be special, especially since he was going to remember it. I finished showering, got my pjs on, and crawled into bed. I hoped that I didn’t have a nightmare. And I didn’t, but I don’t know if the dream I had was any better. If you could even call it that.

next >

[icklemissmayhem]

BTS Fic - Stones Thrown - Chapter 2

(Chapter 1 HERE) AO3

T/W: Shooting at a concert, Injury, Angst, Hurt/Comfort.

He’s moving. Only… not. He’s lying down, so maybe he’s being moved, but why? Who by? And where to? He opens his eyes, but everything’s blurry, and trying to focus whilst being moved like this is making him feel sick, so he squeezes his eyes shut again, trying to work out what’s happening around him by listening as closely as he can. Nobody surrounding him is talking to him, though they seem to be worried about someone, it sounds like they’re helping whoever it is, and maybe it’s Taehyung, his brain helpfully reminds him, so he lies still and quietly, not wanting to interrupt if they’re helping Tae, until he feels himself come to a stop, though the noise continues, and he’s aware of a lot of activity going on around him. Suddenly there are voices he recognises. “HYUNG! Jin-Hyung, is he- what-?!” Jins eyes fly open suddenly, searching for- “Hope-ah” he says, and suddenly he’s there, above him, and Jin’s reaching for him, trying to sit up and check that he’s alright, but- Hoseok disappears from view as instantly as he appeared as people, strangers, crowd him, keeping him lying down, telling him to stay still, but they don’t know, they don’t understand- he needs to make sure they’re all alright, they’re his responsibility, he’s their hyung and they need- He tries to fight his way upright, but there’s too many of them to keep their hands away from him, especially when one of his arms doesn’t, isn’t… It hurts. He gives up, letting the strangers win, lets them force him to lie back down, and suddenly there’s a hand gripping his good one, squeezing it tightly and Hoseok’s back. Jin’s so relieved to see him. “Hyung, you need to relax, stay still,” he tells him. Jin doesn’t want to argue, doesn’t want to upset him, not when Hoseok, their Hope already looks worried, with red-rimmed eyes; but he needs to check on the others too, especially if all these people are surrounding him, Taehyung’s the one who needs help, he’s hurt, badly. “Hoseok, Taehyung needs-” he starts, before stopping as Hobi inhales sharply. Oh no. Oh no, no no, he- “Namjoon and JK are with our Taetae hyung, he’s… he’s ok. They’re taking him to the hospital soon. You too.” That makes sense, Jin can remember Taehyung being hurt, can remember trying to help him, but not being able to do much. He wants to go too, if it’s where they’re taking the others. “Helping him?” he asks, confused as to why all these people are surrounding him when Tae was hurt so badly. Hoseok smiles down at him, nodding and saying that they’re looking after Taehyung too, and Jin just hopes that he managed to be more reassuring to Taehyung, because he’s still worried. “Hope-ah. Go check.” he says, pulling his hand free to emphasize the point. Hoseok goes to argue, Jin can see it in his eyes, but he holds his eye contact, staring until Hoseok gives in. He nods, before turning, and beckoning someone over. Seconds later, Jungkook appears, as Hoseok smiles before disappearing out of Jin’s view. Not that he really notices, as JK- well, if Jin thought Hoseok looked upset, their youngest looks completely broken. It’s enough to fully rouse Jin, though he feels woozy, he fights it back in order to try and comfort the youngest. “Hyung..” his voice wobbles, and suddenly he’s sobbing, head resting on Jin’s thigh. Jin wishes he could use both his hands, he can’t reach JK with the hand he has free. “Jungkook-ah…” he starts, and is slightly relieved when he lifts his head, scrubbing at his eyes and his nose. “It’s alright JK, they’ll be fine.”

“I-I wanted to help, hyung. I could s-see you and Taehyungie back there and I… but hyungs- Hobi-hyung and Namjoon-hyung, they- they…” he trails off, choking back another sob.

“They did the right thing, making sure you were safe. Yah! Don’t argue with hyung!” he preempts, as JK goes to continue. For once it works as intended, Jungkook’s lips pursing, as he swallows audibly, breaking eye contact with Jin, instead watching whatever is going on around them. There seems to be less people gathered around Jin now, he realises, though he’s not sure what that means, if anything. Maybe it’s just because he’s not trying to fight them off any longer, letting them work around him without causing a fuss.

“Jungkook-ah…” he starts, doing his best to smile up at their youngest when he looks down at him. “How are the others? They took Yoongi to the hospital with Jimin, right?”

“Jimin-ah’s not hurt” JK begins, at which Jin nods, relieved. “He went in the ambulance with Yoongi…” he huffs out a breath. “He’s like you, hyung. He got hurt, he was bleeding and- and… but he was angry that hyung and Taetae weren’t- that... He was-” “Swearing?” Jin supplies, JK nodding with a watery smile. “Said he wasn’t leaving until he knew you were both ok. Namjoon-hyung said you were alright and that they’d get you and Taehyung, so he let them put him on the stretcher and took him.” “When you said he was like me..?” “Talking, moving around. Tae’s…” 

“Yah. Jungkook-ah. Taehyung will be ok. He was talking earlier. He’s just tired and needs help is all.” Jin says, masking the exact same fear he has over Tae’s condition to try and prevent JK from breaking down again. “He’ll be fine when he gets to the hospital. He will.” Jin still doesn't want- can’t consider the alternative. “Yoongi and hyung too?” “Yoongi’s probably already writing a Cypher.” Jungkook actually laughs at that, and Jin properly, honestly, smiles for the first time since the concert went to hell, even as JK claps a hand over his mouth, as if he’s expecting to get in trouble. “And hyung is still telling bad jokes.” He replies, cheekily. “And maknae’s still being rude to his elders.” he counters immediately. “Honestly... Any good, nice, caring dongsaeng would be asking what they can do to help, not being sassy, you troublemaker.” He’s relieved that JK seems to be cheered up by their banter, he shouldn’t have to worry about the elder members, he’s the youngest, they should be looking after him, so when he gets upset, it makes everything feel worse somehow, even though they’re all adults now, all equally responsible… As if proving the point Jin’s thinking of, Hoseok reappears, resting a hand on Jin’s wrist and squeezing lightly as he addresses them both. “They’re moving Taehyung now, need to get him to the hospital for surgery. JK, Namjoon says for you to with him and Tae to the hospital and I’ll go wi-” “Yah, Jungkook-ah! Let’s go!” Jin turns his head as Namjoon shouts across to JK, who cringes, frozen to the spot, the smile having disappeared from his face. It’s the first time he’s seen either him, or a glimpse of Taehyung since they were out on the stage, He can’t see much of Taehyung, as the people gathered around the trolley obviously preparing to move him, his face is further obscured by a mask, but if nothing else, Jin feels slightly reassured that he’s being cared for properly now, getting the help he needed so desperately, and will continue to get on the way and once he gets to the hospital. Namjoon looks- well, if Jin were able to, he’d go stand by him, bump shoulders with him and wait for him to spit out what was troubling him. But he can’t do that, and it’s not as if he doesn’t know the reason he looks so tense. Aside from his expression, and his stance, both screaming how rigidly he’s keeping hold of his emotions, he’s got blood smeared across the lower half of his face, no doubt because of the way he carelessly wipes at his nose and mouth with a handful of similarly-bloodied tissues, grimacing as he does so. “Hoseok - you go with Tae and Namjoon.” Jin quickly and quietly counters. “Jungkook’s coming with me.” As he turns to go, he raises his voice slightly - “and make sure he gets checked out too when you get there.” Hoseok turns back, just for a second, shrugs and smiles wryly, eyebrow raised, and yeah, Jin gets it. Namjoon is the hardest to look after, or to encourage to look after himself, especially if any one of the others is anything less than 100%. Even Yoongi is- well. Jin shuts his thoughts down there, not knowing, but worrying nonetheless about Yoongi, though he knows he was the first of them to get whatever help he needed, the fact he hasn’t seen him, doesn’t know for sure troubles him. He watches as Hoseok breaks into a jog, crossing the room just as they start to wheel Tae towards the door, presumably off to a waiting ambulance, resting an arm around Namjoon’s shoulder as he catches him up, Namjoon turning and frowning at Jungkook as Hoseok presumably explains the change in plan. Jin lifts a hand and waves him away, even as JK shrinks into himself beside him, noticeably cringing.

“He’s mad at me. Namjoon-hyung, he-”

“Won’t be mad at you. He’s just stressed, we all are.” Jin consoles almost automatically.

“No, you didn’t see when we got offstage, he yelled and he- Hobi-hyung had to- I- I think I- did you see his face?” Jungkook finishes, shamefaced. Jin hums, thinking of what best to say.

“I saw what happened when you were still on the stage. It was an accident Jungkook-ah. You didn’t know what you were doing, and…” he pauses, not willing to admit he was partly disappointed the other two had managed to wrestle the maknae off-stage earlier, knowing that wouldn’t make JK feel any better, would probably only make him feel guilty for another reason.

“Namjoon… you know he worries, even normally. When he calms down, later, talk to him, apologise and you know as well as I do he’ll tell you not to worry about it.” Jungkook mulls over that for a minute or so, working his tongue against the inside of his cheek as is his habit before nodding decisively.

“OK. Thanks hyung, I’ll- I’ll speak to him at the hospital.” Jin nods in return, smiling a little now JK looks slightly happier.

“Stick with Jimin til then. Let Hoseok look after Namjoon.” They’re interrupted then by people re-entering the room, heading their way. Jungkook steps away slightly as someone tries to slip a mask over Jin’s face, ending up goggling at him from down near his feet somewhere. He’s lifted on the stretcher, and placed on a trolley, before someone clips some straps across his body, none of which he appreciates, though he doesn’t fuss, not wanting to cause any trouble. He is still able to reach his face, so he pushes the mask down past his chin, keeping hold of it as one of the strangers protests and tries to put it back over his mouth and nose.

“Hospital?” He queries, and nods when they confirm his destination. He replaces the mask over his face, keen to get to the hospital and hopefully see the others once more, or at least find out how Yoongi and Taehyung are doing. Maybe he can even see them, if he’s lucky, though he expects all three of them will be kept separate whilst they’re treated. Still, maybe JK can message Jimin or Hoseok, find out that way.

He’s about to ask JK to do just that, when they’re moving him suddenly. He makes a grab for Jungkook’s hand, but misses, has to settle for watching him following behind as he is wheeled through the doors and down a short hallway outside. He does close his eyes, the motion of being lifted into the ambulance uncomfortable not just down to the pain of being jostled about, but also the motion doesn’t help the nausea he feels.

As he’s rolled into place in the back of the ambulance and jolted to a stop, he pulls his mask down hurriedly, certain he’s about to be sick. Luckily, a cardboard bowl is proffered, shoved against his face really as he starts retching, before being taken away after he- after he’s done. He looks up in time to see JK stood, wringing his hands in the doorway of the vehicle, until the paramedic practically manhandles him into one of the seats opposite Jin’s trolley. Now within reach, Jin reaches across, palm up, smiling when Jungkook grabs his hand and squeezes it tight.

“Hyung…”

“Jungkook, I’m-”

They both pause, before smiling grimly. Jin decides to be honest.

“Alright, I’m not ok, obviously-” he tips hIs head slightly towards his injured side, as far as he can without worsening the pain. “I feel pretty awful, actually, but I’m going to be ok after this, so don’t worry, got that?”

“Promise?” Jungkook whispers, and Jin, instead of answering, traps his little finger with his own, pressing their thumbs together.

“JK, can you text Jimin? Find out how Yoongi is..?” he requests, closing his eyes and grimacing as the ambulance starts moving none-too-smoothly as it pulls away. The paramedic fusses over him a little, before settling back and writing up some notes, watching him and the monitors he’s been connected to.

Jungkook dutifully takes out his phone, and focuses on the screen, and Jin lets himself drift a little, staring out of the tinted window above him, watching the streetlights and the flashing of the ambulances own lights as it weaves through traffic, occasionally the blare of the sirens making him startle.

It’s not until Jungkook curses loudly, then apologises to the paramedic for his outburst that he tunes back into his immediate surroundings, even if his scolding is basically an automatic reflex these days. He just looks at JK questioningly, as he scowls at his phone, tapping out a message rapidly.

“There’s press at the hospital. All the entrances.” he explains curtly. “They mobbed the others when their ambulance got there, there wasn’t enough security there yet to hold them back. Still isn’t, so…” He breaks off with an exasperated huff as Jin reaches across and swipes at his phone, missing, but it’s enough to get Jungkook’s attention.

“Jungkook-ah. Stop worrying about what can’t be changed. We’ll get there and it will be fine. Just keep together, keep hold of this thing-” he taps the edge of the stretcher “-keep your head down and just keep walking. Like we always do.” He’s not in the least surprised to hear that word’s got out and the press are waiting at their destination - hell, there’s probably hundreds of accounts, pictures, videos even of what’s happened tonight already on the internet, so he’s not all that bothered by the thought of a few more being taken of him between the ambulance and the hospital… these days they can barely breathe without it ending up online, if not on the news, so when something major like this happens- he’s not surprised.

Jungkook looks like he’s about to bite through his cheek with how close he is to letting rip, the presence of the paramedic with them the only thing stopping him, so it’s a relief when they’re both interrupted by said paramedic reaching up into a locker above Jin and producing a jacket which he proffers at JK.

“It has a hood” he explains, as Jungkook smiles at him in thanks, as he dons the jacket and zips it up. Jin’s not convinced by the deception, but anything that can help them avoid a scrum when they arrive is more than welcome in his eyes.

In the end, it doesn’t really matter. Seijin, upon arriving at the hospital has managed to cobble together enough of a team to hold back the reporters and photographers so that the trolley passes through the doors of the hospital without stopping once, Jin lying mostly covered with a blanket, oxygen mask back on over his face, JK leaning over him at the head of the trolley, until they’re safely out of sight of the doors, Seijin following, relaying information about the others, that he’s contacted Jin’s family, as well as Yoongi and Taehyungs families and will keep them updated as they travel to the hospital, before they pause at a set of double doors.

The paramedics look pointedly at Jungkook and Seijin, who nods at them as if understanding as he grips JK’s arm. “Jin, we can’t go further, I’ll come and see you after they’ve assessed your condition, but for now-”

Jungkook immediately protests, albeit quietly, refusing to let Jin go anywhere alone, so Jin intervenes, quickly reaching for JK’s hand, as their maknae reaches for his.

“JK, I’ll be fine. I promise. I’ll see you soon, Yoongi and Tae too, but for now can you go with Seijin-nim and make sure you and the others get something to eat and some rest?” He ignores Jungkook opening his mouth to protest, bulldozing right over whatever argument he’s about to come out with, continuing: “Please? Make sure Jimin eats something, help Hope-ah make sure Namjoon gets checked out, and make sure you all get some rest. Promise me?” He’s relieved when JK nods, even if he’s avoiding eye contact and not replying, he’s got his point across, and after nodding to Seijin, the paramedics push him through the doors which swing shut, cutting off the view as JK and Seijin watch him go.

[badacts]

eyes on me (pt.1)

this is a fic about Gotham’s revenant problem. set post-under the red hood but pre-death of the family

Tim’s language is information. The collection and the translation and the piecing together of the millions of fragments that make their way into his net each day. Tim’s not Oracle, but he’s no slouch - he can make the internet work for him, on top of the people he talks to and the whispers he catches from the air above alleyways at night. And then, once he has the data, he puts it together. He’s a detective.

He finds things he isn’t strictly looking for all the time. But it’s rare that one of those things makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

- boy, 15, found -

His comm hisses to life in his ear. “Red Robin. I have your position outside of your planned patrol route.”

Tim had been expecting Babs, not Batman, but he doesn’t reply. After all, it wasn’t a question. 

He wipes some rain from his forehead and keeps moving, flashlight aimed low. He’s out of costume - too conspicuous - but still, the last thing he needs is to attract attention. On the downside, his civvies are a long way from waterproof. By the time he gets home, he’ll be soaked to the skin.

“Are you working?” Bruce asks into the silence.

“Yes,” Tim says, which is mostly true. With them, the line between business and personal has always been exceptionally thin. 

Daniel de Silva...Mary Wolyncewicz...David Peter Andrews...Rachael and Lewis Therault…

Beloved, beloved, beloved. Rest in peace. And Tim’s personal favourite, devoted. 

He smells it before he sees it - under the scent of the rain, there’s dark earth, turning mud. He slows down, careful where he steps. 

The headstone lurches out of the dark, white as bone in the torchlight. Marc Rand, beloved son, apparently taken too soon. The dates confirm it - fifteen is very young to die.

It’s the ground before the headstone that Tim is interested in, though. The sod is folded backwards, dirt scattered in heavy clods on top of the grass. In the middle of it is a yawning hole, roughly made and already slumping back in on itself. 

In the bottom, Tim can see shattered wood and scarlet satin and no trace of a body.

That’s not much of a surprise to him. After all, that body was just checked into a hospital ten blocks away, complete with a pulse.

Tim hadn’t been looking. Instead, he’d heard that the Memorial Hospital had a sudden power outage that plunged the entire facility into darkness and silence for just under two minutes, when the electricity returned just as suddenly. The back-up generators had never come on. Three emergency surgeries had been interrupted and the intensive care ward had come back to life in a cacophony of alarms, but no one has died.

When Tim checked the revived CCTV cameras to find out whether the outage was intentional, he’d found one lone bed in the hallway of the emergency department, apparently abandoned in favour of people who could still be saved as ventilators sputtered out and vital monitoring equipment went dark.

The bed contained one John Doe, found with severe injuries and pronounced dead on the scene, according to the hastily-entered details in the records. Except, as Tim watched, the dead Doe sat up. And then the lights came back on.

Facial recognition had led him here, to a gravesite and a boy who’d died six months back, and a body that had either been forcibly dragged from the casket or climbed free under its own power. A body, or a boy, who’d apparently been walking into the middle of the street when a car hit him, killing him instantly. A body that had been transported to the hospital, forgotten on the way to the morgue, until it - he? - sat up and gave a passing nurse the fright of her life by asking for his mother.

Either Gotham EMTs are getting worse at telling a dead kid from a live one, or this is something in defiance of medical explanation. 

And this is Gotham. Anything can happen here. But something like this? Tim, with all of his experience with the crazy and the strange, can admit that the sight of a boy with half of his skull crumpled inwards, still wearing a mud-covered suit but sitting up under his own power, is fucking creepy.

So Tim’s here in the rain next to an empty grave, knowing there’s another empty grave a few rows over, and wondering if those two things are related.

Behind him, there’s a whisper of sound.

There’s a time and a place for a carefully maintained air of civilian reaction. A graveyard where the occupants seem to have trouble staying dead isn’t it. Tim spins, loosing the knife from its sheath on his forearm with a twist that drops the hilt into his palm, his flashlight going flying and flickering out as it hits the ground.

With it dead, the only source of light is the streetlight refraction from the clouds overhead. All Tim can see is a big, black shape behind him, and he strikes out and -

- stops.

It’s only many hours of blindfolded training in the cave that has him pausing in trying to push his knife through half an inch of woven kevlar into Batman’s throat underneath. That, and the span of Bruce’s hand, unmovable around Tim’s forearm.

For a moment, they’re both frozen. Then Bruce says, “A knife?”

Tim huffs a little, shaking the grip off his wrist and sliding the weapon back out of sight. “Sneaking up on me in a graveyard in the middle of the night?”

“It’s a fine piece,” Bruce notes, because he has a one-track mind and the advantage of the nightvision in his mask to actually see.

“I have expensive tastes,” Tim says automatically, which is actually only true in regards to clothes and cars. The knife, hilt detailed in delicate gold and green enamel and blade showing the ripples of quality steel, was a gift. It has the mark of the League of Shadows etched into the underside of the crosstree. “Why are you here?”

Bruce is silent, presumably because the answer is obviously I was concerned about you. He moves away briefly, and then returns to put something muddy into Tim’s hand that resolves into the flashlight after a moment of confusion. 

Tim flicks it back on, and as he does so the beam of light falls over the disturbed grave. Bruce, almost imperceptibly, stiffens.

“What is this?” he growls.

“I’m not sure yet,” Tim says, “But I’m going to find out.”